13

As more days wore on, the trails away from the main Spice Road, becoming more treacherous and difficult to traverse, Daras proved himself a fast learner when it came to trapping. Several times he had set snares in places that would not have occurred to Miraveh, finding some creature or another caught within the trap. He left the skinning to Miraveh, however.

Along the way, Miraveh defied Sialira's warnings and continued to practice dampening her magic. As expected, Sialira did not take kindly to that, spending more time away from the camp, practicing her own magic. Between Miraveh's attempts at suppressing her magic, she could feel an intensity to Sialira's magic that seemed to mirror her growing irritation with Miraveh.

Yet Miraveh's practice had results. The more she practiced, the easier it became to stem the flow of magic within her and, with each successful attempt, the rush of magic returning diminished to the point where it felt only as though she had taken a breath to pass by a particularly bad stench in a town. With a little more practice, Miraveh expected she could pass right by a Karline of the Hunters O' The Dark and not even cause a turn of the head.

It would mean nothing, however, if Sialira did not also train herself to hide her magic. Or it would mean little. Miraveh ran through her mind, often, how she could put in practice her idea for choking off the magic of others. More than once she had considered reaching out with her own magic, to try and suppress Sialira's, but she expected the young Witch would have a fit at the mere thought.

She didn't believe, for a second, Sialira's insistence that magic could not be used to harm someone. That would make little sense. It would mean that either the magic itself could choose how it was used, or some other power, perhaps one of the gods, could stop Witches from using magic in that way. Yet, Xirasir had not cut off magic from the world, himself. Not truly. That had been a consequence of those kin of elves, the Gaele, attempting to merge with, and usurp, the power of the gods, but blame had fallen upon the god, nevertheless.

Miraveh wanted to test Sialira's supposition. She wanted Sialira, regardless of how powerful or not she may be, to try and attack Miraveh with magic. She wanted many things and almost all of them were beyond her reach or abilities. Sialira would not countenance such a test. Miraveh knew that.

"Miraveh, you should see this." Daras, behind Sialira on their horse, turned back to call to her. Miraveh had let them press a little distance ahead as she continued to practice taming her magic. "I think we've found the beginning. And there's something else, too."

She eased her horse closer to where Sialira had brought her horse to a halt and saw what Daras had called her to see. A ravine opened up before them, wide and deep. Hidden by a slight rise in the landscape, if they had galloped this way, she didn't doubt they would not have seen it or managed to stop in time. Dismounting, she took careful steps to take a good look down.

Far below, a river raged between the two faces of the ravine, frothing and crashing against rocks that reached up from the waters, only to become overwhelmed as the rapids tossed and heaved as the river rushed westwards. They could not pass the obstacle here, but Daras waved to catch her attention, pointing further to the west.

There, straddling the gap, lay a rope bridge that stretched and swayed above the raging waters. Wooden struts passed between the two sets of ropes, giving any traveller the ability to walk across, though not without difficulty. Even from here, Miraveh could see several missing boards. Without thinking, she patted the neck of her horse, wondering if they would have to leave their mounts behind to continue their journey.

"I thought you said smugglers maintained these crossings?" The crashing of the waters below forced Miraveh to shout towards the young thief. "That looks ready to fall down. Do you think there are others we could use to cross the gap?"

"No doubt." Again Daras pointed and Miraveh followed the direction he indicated. "Though I think reaching them may prove difficult."

"Hunters." With a jerk of her chin, it almost seemed as though it pained Sialira to talk with Miraveh. "Lots of them."

Indeed. Though far in the distance, further along the ravine to the east, Miraveh could still see those white cloaks. Not to mention the the pennants and flags, that ruffled and fluttered above the tents, bearing the the symbol of the Hunters O' The Dark. The simple image of a black circle with a smaller, white circle within.

It was an encampment and, as far as Miraveh could see, a large one at that. It started at a point where Miraveh could only just see any kind of details and stretched on to the east, becoming less distinct with distance. The camp sat near a large stone bridge that stretched across the ravine. A far more sturdy path to the other side, but one they could not use. Not unless Sialira suddenly learned how to suppress her magic.

Upon that stone bridge, so far away that Miraveh could not tell if it were natural, or something built by artisans in the distant past, she could see movement. Not clear, or detailed, but it looked like a procession of people, carts and horses moving from the southern end of the bridge to the north and the Hunters' encampment.

As far as she had seen, which was not much, she must admit, the Hunters had shown no animosity to people without magic. Perhaps they allowed people passage through their camp to the other side? But, with her and Sialira's inherent magic acting like a beacon to any with magic of their own, Miraveh doubted they could reach the other side. Even with her practice, she couldn't hide her magic for long enough.

"Rickety rope bridge it is, then." Again, she looked over the edge, down into the ravine. "Any idea how we can reach it?"

"There's a, relatively, flat section of ground over there, but it's higher than here." Daras used his hands to illustrate the difference in height. "They might see us if we try to cross it during the day. And I do not doubt the way would be precarious, at best, during the night."

"I can help with that." Sialira stiffened as they eyes of Miraveh and Daras turned to her, before jutting out her chin in defiance. "I'm not useless! Or would you rather we charge into that encampment shooting fireballs and killing people with our magic?"

Miraveh ignored Sialira's tirade, handing the reins of her horse to Daras as she moved towards the rise that the thief had mentioned. It did climb far higher than where the trail had led them. A glance back and then over the rise once more told her that Daras was right. If they moved onto the rise, the afternoon sunlight would allow anyone for miles around to see them.

She scrambled back down from the rise and took a short walk back up the trail wondering whether they had passed a hidden turn off somewhere along the way. She didn't want to track back to find out. For all she knew, they could have missed the turn off days ago. Better to work with the situation they had, rather than second-guess their choices.

"Alright. We'll settle down here until dark." She shaded her eyes with her hand as she looked towards the encampment once more. "It's a full moon tonight, but we should have a few hours before its light can fall upon us as we move. Get some rest."

Daras dropped from the horse first, holding up a hand to support Sialira as she made a more controlled dismount. Soon, they had bed rolls spread upon the ground, horses tied to bracken behind a slight rise on the trail, hiding them from keen eyes. Miraveh, however, did not wish to rest. Crouching, looking towards the encampment, she fidgeted with a pair of stones, passing them from hand to hand.

"I know what you're thinking and you should stop." Sialira had left Daras to come stand a little distance from Miraveh. "Unless you want to get everybody killed?"

That made Miraveh wince. Memories of her nightmares came rushing back to her. Faces of the dead. Dead that she felt responsible for whether she was or not. Rationally, she knew Yusuvur shouldered far more of that blame, but Miraveh couldn't help but take on the burden of their deaths. She had never wanted anyone to die. Not Alran and not even the Hunter, back in Kubsa, yet death seemed to be a constant companion.

"You don't know anything about what I'm thinking." She dropped the stones, rubbing her hands upon the leather of her breeches. "If you have an idea to use magic tonight, you'll need rest."

"You're thinking you could sneak up to the encampment and test your choking idea." The young Witch raised an eyebrow as Miraveh swivelled her head to face her. "You can't. If you trust nothing else I say, trust that. I've studied magic all my life, all the old texts. Every one of them says Witches cannot harm with magic."

"That's the thing, though, isn't it?" Miraveh turned her back on the encampment and moved past Sialira towards the bed rolls. "I'm not a Witch."

She wasn't. Not in any real sense. She didn't know why, but she simply could not take that restriction of not causing harm as the truth. And, one day, she would prove it.

-+-

They spent the afternoon taking turns watching for movement from the Hunters encampment. Miraveh spent her watches trying to measure how many Hunters there were, but they were too far away and mingled often. If she had to guess, she estimated in the hundreds. An army by any other name and she now wondered whether Sialira was right after all. The north and the west needed to know about this threat.

Then again, she knew Yusuvur better than almost anyone. The Witch had travelled this way, spoken to Laloruntir and the elves, even mentioned Miraveh, herself. If she didn't know about the Hunters, and their strength in numbers, it would be quite unlike the woman that prided herself on her knowledge and her ability to strategise against anything that could threaten her.

The day wore on, afternoon turned to evening and the encampment became little more than a field of lights from braziers, torches and camp fires. Miraveh looked to the Moon and felt glad of a thick cloud cover that had rolled in from the Sea of Baerakis, allowing the reflected glimmer of the celestial object through on rare occasions. That would work to their advantage.

The wind that accompanied the clouds was a different matter altogether. The rope bridge they intended crossing stretched for a greater distance than Miraveh would like and she did not doubt the winds would dip into the ravine, funnelling along its length and cause the bridge to swing and sway. They would have to worry about that when they came to it.

"Ready?" She looked towards Sialira as they prepared to climb onto the rise that led to the bridge. "It's in your hands now."

"I'm ready." Even in the darkness, Miraveh could see Sialira's shoulders shaking. "Once I start, you and Daras lead the horses ahead of me."

Atop the rise, Sialira paused, shaking out her hands, stepping from one foot to the other. A quick glance behind, towards the encampment, and the young Witch raised her hands, palms parallel to the ground, fingers spread. At first, nothing happened. Then, Miraveh began to feel Sialira's magic begin to flow. It felt different from when the girl would take herself away to practice. More focussed.

The tell-tale pale green glow began to curl around Sialira's fingers. Tendrils of energy that appeared to have a life of their own, squirming and twisting. The tendrils reached downwards, as though searching for something to touch, reaching out, testing, until they touched the ground before Sialira and then began spreading outwards.

The tendrils flattened and merged, becoming a blanket, like a pale green fog that clung to the ground upon an Autumn morning. Except, this green fog did not spread out in all directions. Instead, it fell upon the ground and clung to every crack, every errant stone, every bump and every crevice. The blanket of magic brought into sharp relief every part of the ground before Sialira.

But only in a limited fashion. It looked a path, or a corridor. To both sides, where the magic did not touch, the ground looked as dark and featureless as ever. To the front, beyond where the magic blanket stopped, looked the same. Sialira stepped forward and the magically lit path moved with her. Sialira had given them a path to follow.

Daras crouched, reaching down to touch the magic before rising and rubbing his fingers, as though cleaning them of some kind of dirt or liquid. He shrugged, the green of the magic lighting up his face from below, giving his grin a sinister air, before beginning to lead his horse forward. Miraveh held back for a second, allowing them both to go on ahead and, as Sialira made more steps forward, the glow that she created became even more dull and indistinct. The Hunters would not be able to see the light from so far away.

Miraveh moved, then, to lead her horse and catch up to the others, satisfied that they had not alerted every Hunter within a mile to their presence. As she passed Sialira, she could see the intense concentration on the girl's face. Casting such magic had already begun to strain her, her lack of power now more than noticeable.

It took longer than Miraveh would have liked. Every so often, she would turn her head from the green path before them to look back to Sialira and every time, the girl looked more and more tired. Beads of sweat glistened upon her face, her hands shook more and more. If they didn't rest soon, she feared the young Witch would collapse through exhaustion. Not for the first time, Miraveh questioned her leadership and whether they should have traced their way back to the correct turning.

After what felt like hours, they reached a dip in the rise and gladly scrambled down into it. Miraveh called for a pause and Sialira gasped, her legs almost folding beneath her. Daras reached her first, wrapping his arms about the girl and lowering her to the ground before rushing back to the horse and returning with a water skin, holding it for Sialira to take a drink.

"You've done well, little one. So well!" Daras used the sleeve of his coat to wipe the sweat from Sialira's face. "Rest a while. Perhaps we have moved far enough that we can take the rest of the distance in the morning without fear of being observed?"

He asked that last question of Miraveh, but she remained silent. She peeked over the lip of the dip  in the landscape, looking back towards the lights of the encampment. She doubted they were far enough away. All it would take was one Hunter with keen eyes to catch their silhouettes against the sky and they could have any number of enemies to face.

She moved from one side of the dip to the other. Without Sialira's magical path, she couldn't gauge the distance they had left to travel. From memory, she didn't think it was far, but, as Alran had said many times, darkness stretches and squeezes all ideas of time and distance. For all she knew, the rope bridge stood only ten feet away, or a hundred feet, or a hundred yards.

The rising wind did not help, either, causing strands of her hair to flick into her face and eyes. With a silent curse, she ran her hand over her face and narrowed her eyes to try and find the bridge. The sounds of rushing water, down in the ravine, were no help at all and the spots of water from the spray had started to slick her skin. No, not spray from the rapids. Rain. She looked up, blinking.

"We need to move, now." She moved back down to the bottom of the dip, collecting the reins of her horse, ready to set off once more. "Sialira. We need your magic. This rain will make everything harder."

"Just a little longer, Miraveh." Daras held out his hands, using both to indicate towards Sialira. "The poor thing is near exhaustion. She needs rest."

"She can rest on the other side of the ravine!" She reached down, holding her hand out for Sialira. "Or do you want to spend another day playing hide and seek with the Hunters?"

"I'll be fine in a minute." The girl's chest still rose and fell noticeably. "You don't know what it"s like. The toll upon the body. Only a few more minutes."

Miraveh blew air from her nose. The wind had become even stronger in the seconds it had taken to try to get Sialira and Daras moving. The horses had started to become skittish as the rain came down with even greater force. Miraveh had never seen a great storm, the kind the Sea of Baerakis brewed often, but she had heard of them. Capable of lifting people bodily from the ground. If this were one of those storms, she preferred waiting it out on the other side of the ravine.

"Listen. I know, I do. I have fought before and felt that my arms and legs would fail me, but I had to keep fighting and you must too." Miraveh crouched beside Sialira, laying a hand upon her shoulder. "Without you, we won't make this. You are vital. I'm not lying to you when I say we will not go another day undetected. They will send out patrols and catch us. We, I, need you. I need your strength."

Sialira looked at Miraveh in a way she had not looked at her before. In the past, Sialira had looked at Miraveh in any number of ways, but never with any sense of admiration. The words had flowed from Miraveh's mouth with such ease that she almost believed them herself. She wasn't certain the Hunters would send out patrols, or whether they knew of these paths at all. The thing that shocked Miraveh the most was how similar she had sounded to Yusuvur.

She had heard words not that different in those times where Miraveh had felt she could not go on. Where Yusuvur would tell Miraveh how important she was, how much they all needed her, that, without her, they could only fail. At the time, she had believed Yusuvur. Only later had she learned that Yusuvur used words as weapons. People had died because of words like those.

Her words had the effect she needed, however. Sialira gripped Miraveh's hand, pulling herself to her feet, unsteady, slump-shouldered. Daras' forehead rumpled as he shook his head, watching as Sialira forced herself to head towards the other side of the dip, the wind picking at her clothing and hair.

When Daras bore his gaze down upon Miraveh, she stared back with a face set in stone.