She shook her head. “You still have another half day left, plus two more unbounded favors, but tonight could be free if you let me have the big one for an hour.” Her eyes turned to focus on Tiny’s sleeping form.
“No.”
“Half an hour,” she countered. “He’ll thank you for it.”
“No,” said Will firmly. “Besides, he’s his own man. I have no right to barter him.”
Tailtiu’s features showed surprise. “Oh, but you do! Or didn’t you know?”
“Pardon?”
“The accord between Faerie and the mortal realm,” she said matter-of-factly, “is held in trust by your kind. Or rather, it’s held in trust by you, since you’re the last one.”
“The last what?”
“Wizard, silly,” she answered. “Once you’re gone, we can do as we please, for the accord will no longer hold force. Any humans that seek to deal with us will have to negotiate with their own strength—the strength of power—and from what I’ve seen, most of them have none. Didn’t Father tell you?”
“I’m barely a wizard.”
“But you’re marked as one,” said Tailtiu, “and that’s all that counts. The limnthal proves it. It’s a shame you didn’t give it to Mother. Then I wouldn’t have to ask.” Her eyes flashed. “I could just take what I want.”
“What about the wizards in Wurthaven?”
She cocked her head to one side. “Do they have it?” Tailtiu smiled. “I don’t think so.”
The simple, uncaring malice in her features made his mouth go dry. “I don’t need anything else,” he told her. “You should go.”
“Very well. Take good care of yourself, nephew. When you’re gone we will devour them.” With those parting words, she disappeared into the mist.
Will lay quietly in his bed, but the warmth was gone, replaced by an empty coldness that chilled him to his bones. He tried to sleep, but his mind was spinning. If mankind was protected by some ancient accord, what did that mean exactly? The fae couldn’t take humans without his permission? An evil thought came to him. Does that mean I could offer the Darrowans to them in exchange for getting rid of the invading army?
He shivered at the idea, and though he had no concrete knowledge, he suspected his grandfather would consider it a betrayal of the trust he had been given. Dealing with the fae was risky enough, but selling the life of a human to them was definitely an act of warlockry. Selling thousands was pure evil.
Will was unsure of the time. His body wanted him to return to sleep, but he still needed to figure out how to share the knowledge he had gained without getting himself into even more trouble. Campfires, he thought, but it won’t work after dawn. Shrugging off his blanket, he rose from his bed and headed for the latrine.
On his way back he began to run, assuming an air of urgency. “Lights!” he told the camp watchmen. “There are lights to the south!”
That got their attention, but when they went to confirm none of the night watch could see anything. The perimeter patrol also reported having seen nothing, but Will persisted, claiming he had seen several lights in the darkness to the south. After some argument, they took him back to his platoon’s tent and woke Sergeant Nash.
“Is it already time?” asked the sergeant groggily.
One of the patrollers spoke first. “One of your men is saying he saw lights to the south, but no one else can confirm his reporting.”
Sergeant Nash sat up, irritation on his face. “Who’s the jackass?”
“Me, sir,” offered Will.
The sergeant stared at him until his eyes focused in the dim light, then he groaned. “Goddamn it, Cartwright, not you again.”
“I really saw them, Sergeant,” insisted Will. “They put them out after only a minute or two.”
“What time is it?” Nash asked the guards who had come with Will.
“It’s the middle of third watch, Sergeant. Roughly an hour before wake-up call.”
The sergeant stared at Will, his expression unreadable. “Why should I believe you, Cartwright?”
“I have very good eyesight,” said Will. “I swear there’s an army out there. If we do nothing they’ll be at our rear tomorrow.”
“And yet none of the scouts found anyone to the south of us yesterday,” grumbled Sergeant Nash.
“They didn’t find the crossbowmen either, sir,” Will reminded him.
The sergeant got to his feet. “We’ll let the captain decide, but this is on you, Cartwright. If you’re wrong, I’ll make sure you wish you were never born.”
Sir Kyle was none too pleased to be woken early, but the knight hid his annoyance better. “I’m not rousing the entire camp early on one man’s word,” he pronounced. Glancing at Lieutenant Latimer, he ordered, “Send four men, two to the south-southwest, two to the south-southeast. Cartwright, you’ll go south on your own. Since you have such keen eyes, I’m sure you’ll be fine, and if not, you’ll be one less headache I have to deal with. Report back in an hour.”
Shortly after that, Will found himself walking alone by the light of the stars. There was no moon, but the sky was clear and Tailtiu’s mist had dispersed. Once his eyes had adjusted, he had enough light to walk without tripping, but the terrain ahead of him was just a mixture of blacks and grays. The turyn that flowed through the air helped slightly, and he hoped that by paying close attention to it he would be able to make out the positions of any guards that might lie ahead.
With only an hour to spend he did his best to make good time. From what Tailtiu had said, the enemy was three or four miles distant, an easy walk on level ground, but in the mountains, it was far harder. He had no way to track time, so he would have to guess at how long he had traveled.
After what he judged to be a half an hour, the landscape became more rugged and he doubted he had gone more than a mile. He saw no sign of the enemy, but he believed his aunt’s report, so he continued on. He kept going, determined to vindicate himself.
The sky was beginning to brighten in the east, and he knew he had probably been gone more than an hour before he saw the telltale disturbances in the flows that indicated men hidden ahead. Most probably they were enemy sentries. Just as Tailtiu had said, the land dropped away behind them into a wide crevasse of some type. They must be hidden down there.
Turning west, he followed it for several hundred yards until he could see the land was smoothing out. He guessed that the enemy must enter the deep ravine from there. With two hours gone and dawn rapidly approaching, Will knew the army would begin to march soon, so he turned and began running back.
The light made it safer to run, but the rough terrain made it tiring, even without his mail. He began drawing turyn in and focusing it in his legs and lungs until his fatigue vanished. Once the land smoothed out it was easier, but as the army came into sight he could see they were already forming up to march.
“I told you one hour, Cartwright!” snapped Sir Kyle when Will was brought before him. “The others were back two hours ago. I’d given you up as a deserter.”
“I found them,” said Will, still struggling to catch his breath. He did his best to describe what he had seen.