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around a bend in the walls, and he broke into a run.
"Pwr wa ladth& Pwr wa ladth& Pwr wa ladth& " Her song became a nervous chant or
a pleading.
Morgan skidded to a halt at the turn. 'Twas Llynya, aright, cornered by the
boar in a dead end of the maze, holding him off with the wrong end of her
dagger, which was doing the most peculiar thing. It was glowing.
Magic. He swore and crossed himself. Just his luck to fall for a pagan maid
who wielded magic with the grip of her blade. She had the beast transfixed
with the crystal light and her song.
Something was going wrong, though, for the rangy old boar was tossing his
head, slicing at the air with his tusks, and stepping closer, his cloven
hooves stamping up small puffs of dust. Her voice faltered.
Morgan did not hesitate, but moved in with his sword held high and brought it
crashing down in a mighty blow, slashing into the beast's neck with the force
of every muscle in his body. The cut was deep, severing the animal's spinal
cord and dropping him paralyzed to the floor. The boar's eyes rolled back at
him as blood gushed from the wound.
" 'Twas my duty& Rhuddlan told me& protect you," Llynya babbled breathlessly.
Morgan put his boot to the animal's flanks and shoved the beast off his blade.
"I thought to bait the boar, to keep you safe& I
thought I could "
With his sword free, he took two strides to her, gripped her chin, and
silenced her with a kiss. She grew utterly still, and when he moved his mouth
over hers, her lips parted, so soft and lush, for him to take his taste.
When the kiss was over, he raised his head and gazed into her eyes. "Sweet,"
he said, and would have said more, for all he'd felt, but words eluded him.
She was sweet, aright, like nectar before honey, and warm, with her heat
spreading out to wrap around him like a velvet cloak. Her eyes were the green
of forest leaves and shallow seas, filled with stars, beckoning, beckoning. He
bent his head to touch his mouth to hers once more.
"Morgan!" The call came from behind. He looked over his shoulder and swore for
the kiss he would not have. 'Twas Dain, and Ceridwen, safe.
He turned back to Llynya. "When Balor is behind us, I will come for you," he
promised. At her nod, he let her go and stepped aside.
Chapter 25
Llynya led them out of the maze and into a honeycomb of cave-ins and debris
that marked what had once been the path to theLightCaves from Carn Merioneth.
Rhuddlan had been right, Dain thought, the destruction had obscured any
clearly marked passage, leaving only rubble to be picked through and narrow
cracks to be squeezed through and even narrower ledges to be traversed above
seemingly bottomless chasms. Without the sprite guiding them from above and
the Quicken-tree working from below, they never would have found their way.
Snit had not come with them, but had disappeared within moments of leading him
and Ceridwen through the pit and to Morgan and Llynya. Long after Llynya had
brought them out of the pit, they'd glimpsed another blue light shining in
bits and pieces through the dark up ahead. " 'Tis Bedwyr," she'd said, and
been proven right when they'd finally spoken with the
Quicken-tree man through a pile of rocks and broken beams blocking the tunnel.
He'd helped each of them through with a warning to be careful, for the other
side was naught but a rock slide into a yawning chasm, revealing to Dain for
the first time the true breadth and depth of the caverns. The path they'd
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taken the night before with Rhuddlan, through the winding shafts of the
Canolbarth, had not shown so much.
As they neared theLightCaves , they were hailed by others of the Quicken-tree,
Liosalfar scouting the farthest reaches of the caverns, each carrying a
dreamstone crystal blade. Trig was among the five to reach them.
"You've done well," he said to the sprite, then gave orders for one of the
other men to backtrack
Llynya's path with Bedwyr and guard the trail. Two others of the Liosalfar he
directed with a gesture and a raised voice. "You know where you are needed.
Go, and tell Rhuddlan all are safe."
The blue lights converged in a line down the rocky slope, flickering with each
curve in the trail, until they disappeared into the abyss of darkness.
To the remaining man he gave a piece of material he pulled out of a pouch on
his belt. 'Twas white cloth, finely spun wool, patched together and sewn with
a shimmery thread of the Quicken-tree gray and green.
"Give this to Aedyth and see what she can make of it. Tell her we found it
near the Crwyn Track." The man left, and Trig turned to them. "We will await
Rhuddlan at the scrying pool so there will be no delay in the ceremony."
"So soon?" Llynya asked, casting a glance in Morgan's direction before
returning her attention to Trig.
"They are tired and have been through much. I thought there would be time for
all to rest."
"They can rest after the ceremony, if Caradoc is not already upon us. He will
not lose Ceridwen without a fight. Nor will the monk."
"But Dain has been hurt."
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