Bloodfire Quest (The Dark Legacy of Shannara, #2)(72)
Cymrian. She could not see him. She struggled against the blanket wrapped about her, aware that she was lying on hard planking. The smells of damp wood and caulking overlaid with pungent aromas of old-growth forest invaded her senses, and she remembered.
She sat up too quickly, struck her forehead against a low crossbeam, and was immediately dizzy. She slumped back, trying to find her balance. Hands caught her and held her. Cymrian again. “Steady.”
“Where are we?”
“Hiding. But it’s time to move along. It will be daylight soon, and that warship will be searching for us.”
She nodded, her head against his chest. She could smell the damp in his clothing. “The storm?”
“Passed about an hour ago. It went on for hours. Worst I’ve seen in quite a while.”
“But they didn’t find us?”
“They didn’t find us.”
She remembered the rest then. They had sprinted ahead recklessly to outdistance the larger ship, catching her off balance while she was still at half speed, and had reached a jumble of rolling terrain where they were able to slip down into a heavily shadowed gap in the forest. They could not have been easily seen from the air even in good weather. In the wildness of the storm, they were virtually invisible. Resting less than ten feet above the ground and surrounded by trees much taller than the ship’s mainmast, they had hovered in silence and watched the larger ship pass overhead without slowing.
Not wanting to risk discovery by moving again too soon and less than eager to put themselves back in the air in the teeth of that storm, they had decided to lay low for several hours. Cymrian had persuaded the sisters to bed down belowdecks, and Aphen had gone straight to sleep.
She lifted her head away from his chest, swallowing against the dryness in her mouth. “Arling?”
“Topside already. She was awake before you.”
She started to get to her feet, her dizziness fading. Cymrian’s hands still held her, even though she had not asked him to, guiding her from a prone to a standing position. Wend-A-Way was steady, no sway or rock to her, and even though she must still be hovering, it felt to Aphen as if they were settled on the ground.
“Did she come back again after missing us on the first pass?”
“The warship? No. We’ve been alone since then. I don’t think they could have retraced their route even if they had tried. Not in that storm.” One of his hands moved to her arm. “Come. Walk with me. Give your eyes a chance to adjust.”
She allowed him to guide her to the wooden ladder that led from belowdecks. She climbed obediently, catching a hint of light through the open hatch. But when she arrived on deck, she found the world a place of heavy mist and layered clouds that closed away the sky and shut out the moon and stars. Ambient light that lacked an identifiable source reflected off particles of rain and mist, a wraith’s glow that lit the whole of the hazy shroud in which they were wrapped.
Arling was standing by the port railing watching the Elven crewmen, who were changing out the diapson crystals. She turned at the sound of her sister’s approach and smiled. “You were so sound asleep, I didn’t want to wake you.”
Aphen laughed. “Do you see anything out there?”
“Only mist and more mist. Cymrian says we need to lift off and find our course again before it clears.”
One of the Elven crewmen glanced over. “The sooner, the better. That was a Federation vessel chasing us.”
Aphen turned. “Federation? You’re sure of that?”
The man nodded. “I’d know one of those black devils anywhere.”
“You have to wonder what they thought they were doing,” said another. “We’re too quick for anything that big. Too easy for us to hide, too, in these mountains.”
“Still,” said the first. “Better if we don’t take chances.”
“Let’s eat something before we leave,” Aphen suggested, turning away.
So bread, salted meat, and fruit were brought out from the food storage locker and consumed with glasses of ale. The crew joined the sisters and Cymrian, but no one had much of anything to say, content to remain in silence. Aphen’s dizziness had finally passed. When it was time to set out, she told Cymrian that she would man the helm. To his credit, he didn’t offer any objection and instead moved to the bow to take up the forward watch.
Arling moved into the pilot box beside her sister and stood without speaking as the anchors were raised and the airship began to lift off. The plan was to move back to the edge of the Westland forests in which they were hidden, continue south past Drey Wood and the Pykon, and make their way into the Wilderun. The heavy mist should hide them from discovery, and with any luck at all would last for a few hours past sunrise. The chances of encountering the Federation warship again would be lessened considerably if they flew low against the backdrop of forests and mountains and kept careful watch for what lay ahead of them. They would fly swiftly and without stopping until they were at the Wilderun, manning Wend-A-Way in shifts and outdistancing their pursuit using a combination of speed and endurance.
It was a solid enough plan, but like all plans it could go wrong quickly if chance and bad luck combined to thwart it. So no one was taking anything for granted, and everyone was prepared for the unexpected.
The sisters and Cymrian discussed using the Elfstones to track the progress and position of the Federation warship in order to gain an edge in the pursuit, but in the end chose not to. The problem was the same as before—using the Elfstones could give them away to any magic users looking for them, and they had no way of knowing if there was one such aboard the warship. Aphen was pretty sure there was magic at work somewhere in this business, given the nature of the attacks on her in Arborlon and the seeming ability of whoever was carrying them out to know each time exactly when to strike. It wasn’t a risk worth taking, especially since a single use of the Elfstones would not be enough to guarantee escape and more than one use would be tempting fate.