The House On Durrow Street Part 42

"They haven't told me," Eubrey said, taking another step along the pa.s.sage. "At least not yet. However, I am sure I will find out more when they admit me into their circle-a thing they are bound to do if I succeed here today."

Coulten laid a hand on the rough gray stones and leaned through the doorway. "Really, this is madness, Eubrey. Rafferdy is right-the redcrests could come by at any moment. Surely by opening this door you've discovered enough to prove yourself to the sages. There is no need for you to do any more. Now come out of there!"

"This will only take a moment," Eubrey said, and he reached the tangle of branches at the end of the pa.s.sage.

Coulten looked at Rafferdy, his usually ruddy face grim and gray. "Good G.o.d, he actually means to do something. And he says I'm the foolish one!"

Rafferdy hesitated for a moment, then he stepped into the pa.s.sage. It was not long, being only as great in extent as the thickness of the wall, which was perhaps ten feet. At once he felt an oppressive sensation, like a kind of pressure pushing him back. He moved halfway down the pa.s.sage and stopped. Eubrey was just over an arm's length away. moved halfway down the pa.s.sage and stopped. Eubrey was just over an arm's length away.

"Eubrey, I don't think you should-"

Rafferdy bit his tongue, for the other young man was already speaking words of magick, his hands before him. He had stripped off his gloves, and the ring on his right hand flared bright. Quickly, the words of the spell rose to a crescendo. As he spoke the final runes, blue sparks flew outward from his hand, striking one of the trees at the end of the pa.s.sage, coiling and sizzling all around its trunk.

The words of magick echoed off the stone walls, then fell to silence; the blue sparks dimmed and were gone. The trees at the end of the pa.s.sage stood as they had before, motionless. Rafferdy let out the breath he had been holding.

"I don't think the enchantment did anything," he said.

"We cannot know until we test it." Eubrey took out a small pocketknife and unfolded it.

"Whatever is that for?" Coulten called out.

"I am going to test if the spell had any effect."

"How so?"

"Like this," Eubrey said. And with a single thrust he plunged the knife into the trunk of the tree.

Behind Rafferdy, Coulten let out a shout. Rafferdy nearly did the same. A shudder coursed up the trunk of the tree; at the same time a shower of dead leaves rained down from above. Rafferdy lunged forward to grab Eubrey's arm, then hauled the other man back out of the pa.s.sage into the sunlight.

To his great consternation, Eubrey was laughing.

"It worked!" he exclaimed, sounding not unlike the crows that circled in the sky above. "Do you see? The tree made no reaction at all despite my attack upon it."

"It shed a number of leaves," Rafferdy said.

Eubrey waved a hand. "No doubt those were already dead, and so were loosened quite naturally when the tree shook. But the tree did nothing in and of itself itself."

Rafferdy peered down the pa.s.sage. In the dim green light he could see that the flurry of leaves had ceased. The tree Eubrey had struck was immobile, the knife lodged in its trunk. could see that the flurry of leaves had ceased. The tree Eubrey had struck was immobile, the knife lodged in its trunk.

He glared at Eubrey. "What do you think it should have done?"

"I'm not certain, but so a.s.saulted it should have done something something, don't you think? If the historical accounts are true-and given recent events in Torland, we must believe they are-the Old Trees are capable of resisting a.s.saults. Only this tree has done nothing at all. The spell must have had some effect on it, rendering it quiescent. The sages will be very interested to learn this, I am sure. Now, if you'll release me, Rafferdy, I'll go retrieve my knife."

Rafferdy tightened his grip on Eubrey's arm. "I'll buy you another. I think instead you should close the door."

"I concur!" Coulten said, glancing nervously about them. "I can only believe the redcrests will be returning this way at any moment."

In fact, Rafferdy was surprised they had not done so already. The soldiers had been patrolling in both directions along the wall earlier. Why had they not come back this way?

Eubrey scowled. "Suit yourself, Rafferdy. However, it's an excellent knife of Murghese steel and has a pearl handle. It will cost you dearly to replace it. And do not think I will settle for something of inferior make!"

The crows continued to circle above, making a racket.

"Just close the door," Rafferdy said.

Eubrey studied the runes that blazed in the empty air of the opening. Then, as before, he incanted the words of magick, only this time speaking them in reverse. As he uttered the last one, his House ring gave a flash of blue, and a moment later the stones became faintly visible upon the air. They grew rapidly more opaque, until Rafferdy could no longer see through them. At the same time, the magickal runes flickered and were snuffed out.

Rafferdy gripped his cane and tapped its end against the red stones. They seemed quite solid. He gave a satisfied nod.

"Good, it is closed," Coulten said, his relief plain. "Now let us be away from here."

This received no argument, and together the three young men turned from the wall and started back down the path. They had gone no more than a few steps when they heard a sound behind them: a rushing as of a wind through leaves. turned from the wall and started back down the path. They had gone no more than a few steps when they heard a sound behind them: a rushing as of a wind through leaves.

Rafferdy glanced at the ground. The tall gra.s.s beside the path drooped in the heat of the long afternoon, unstirred by any breeze.

The rushing swiftly grew into a roar. It was accompanied by a groaning so low it was more felt than heard, as well as a high-pitched creaking that to Rafferdy sounded almost like voices crying out in pain. As one, the three young men stopped and turned around.

"By the hosts of Eternum!" Coulten cried out.

While Eubrey said, in a lower voice, "Now I understand what it was they meant."

Rafferdy thought this a peculiar thing to say, but it was quickly forgotten as a dread came over him-or rather, a sort of terrible awe. Above the top of the old wall, the crowns of the trees were tossing violently back and forth.

"Perhaps...perhaps it is a storm," Coulten called over the din, though these words sounded far from confident. "There's a dark cloud over there."

"No, it can't be a storm," Rafferdy called back. "There's no wind. Besides, that doesn't look like any usual sort of cloud." He held a hand to his brow, shading his eyes as he studied the smudge to the south. It was thicker than before, billowing up into the sky in a black pillar.

"May I suggest we retreat a bit farther?" Eubrey said, loudly now.

The tops of the trees continued to heave to and fro, as if propelled by a capricious gale. Then, as the groaning grew louder, branches bent and lashed, clawing against the top of the wall like thin black fingers.

Coulten's eyes were wide, and his usually ruddy cheeks had gone pale. "I don't think the trees cared for your spell after all, Eubrey. You had better undo it right this moment."

Eubrey made no answer. He only gazed at the trees, as if fascinated by them. The branches bent farther, making an awful creaking as they strained to reach over the top of the wall. Leaves fell all around like black snow. as they strained to reach over the top of the wall. Leaves fell all around like black snow.

Coulten grabbed his arm. "Don't just stand there, Eubrey! It was your spell that did this. Speak another spell to put a stop to it!"

"He can't," Rafferdy said.

"What do you mean he can't?" Coulten shouted.

Rafferdy held out a hand. One of the black leaves settled upon it. He rubbed it with his thumb, and it smeared into a sooty streak across his palm. The raucous noises made by the crows drew his gaze back up.

"Look there, above the trees."

The others did so. The black cloud had grown larger yet. Only it wasn't a cloud at all, Rafferdy knew.

"Eubrey can't stop it," he said, "because it wasn't his spell that did this."

And even as they watched, the column of smoke reached higher in the sky as the crows darted and wheeled.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE LONG AFTERNOON seemed to stand still. There was not a cloud in view, and in the fields all around poppies drooped their heads. It was as if all the world had fallen into a golden drowse, lulled by the drone of locusts.

Mrs. Baydon took a sip of wine and gave a sigh. "I really believe nothing could be conceived that would be more marvelous than this. Wouldn't you agree, Ivoleyn?"

Ivy could not deny it was all very pleasant; or rather, she knew that she ought ought to have found it pleasant. The maid and the driver had strewn blankets on the gra.s.s and heaped them with to have found it pleasant. The maid and the driver had strewn blankets on the gra.s.s and heaped them with cushions, so that all of the party were able to arrange themselves in the most comfortable fashion. There were niceties to partake of, and there was a plent.i.tude of wine, poured from bottles that had been kept cool in moist clay pots. Ivy should only have been content. cushions, so that all of the party were able to arrange themselves in the most comfortable fashion. There were niceties to partake of, and there was a plent.i.tude of wine, poured from bottles that had been kept cool in moist clay pots. Ivy should only have been content.

Instead, her own gla.s.s of wine remained full in her hand, and her attention kept roving down the path to the gray-green curtain of Madiger's Wall. She wondered what sort of things Lord Rafferdy, Lord Eubrey, and Lord Coulten had discovered in their exploration. In particular, she wondered if they had come upon any more red stones. Ivy was curious how a stone block that looked just like the ones her father's house was built from had come to be a part of Madiger's Wall.

"Ivoleyn?"

Ivy realized she had been staring at the wall again. "Of course," she said, and gave her friend a smile. "There could be nothing more lovely than this."

"I knew you would agree," Mrs. Baydon said, only then her own smile altered into a frown. "Do not be so greedy with the cherries, Mr. Baydon! I am sure others might wish to taste them."

Her husband responded with a look of indignation, though its effect was significantly lessened by the red stain on his chin.

"We must be sure to invite Lord Rafferdy with us on our next outing," Lady Crayford said. She was making a sketch in her book of a bouquet of poppies that Captain Branfort had brought her. "He would be a natural addition to our circle, given that both you and Lord Eubrey are already acquainted with him."

Ivy could only be pleased by this suggestion. "Captain Branfort knows him as well. And I would not be surprised if the same was true of your husband."

Lady Crayford looked up from her book. "What would make you say such a thing, Lady Quent?"

"I was only thinking it is possible that Lord Rafferdy has encountered the viscount at a.s.sembly."

"But that is not possible at all!" Lady Crayford exclaimed. "The viscount never goes to a.s.sembly. It is his belief that there are other and better ways to affect affairs in our nation." viscount never goes to a.s.sembly. It is his belief that there are other and better ways to affect affairs in our nation."

"What other way could there possibly be?" Mr. Baydon said, lowering a cherry he had been about to pop in his mouth.

At this, Colonel Daubrent, who was reclining on his back to gaze at the sky, gave a rare laugh. "Politics are far from the only way to affect the course of nations. Wouldn't you concur, Branfort?"

"I would," the captain said.

Mr. Baydon scowled. "You are both military men, so I can only presume you mean to imply that war can alter the fate of a nation. Yet you forget that all wars come about for some reason of politics or another."

Captain Branfort slapped his knee. "I do believe he has us there, Colonel! What can we poor soldiers do but go whither and fight whoever our government commands us to? We have no choice in the matter."

"No, we do not," Daubrent said. "Not unless we were to become the government ourselves."

Ivy supposed this statement was meant to be humorous. Except the colonel was not one for making jokes. She considered asking him to explain further, but at that moment Mrs. Baydon let out a sound of dismay.

"What ill luck!" she said. "I want only to linger here all afternoon, but I do believe a storm is coming. Look how the trees are blowing, and there is a dark cloud over there."

Ivy had been doing her best not to be fascinated by the wall, and to instead pay attention to her companions. Now she did look that way and saw that Mrs. Baydon was right. Above the wall, the crowns of the trees were tossing back and forth, and a dark smudge stained the sky.

Captain Branfort stood and lifted a hand to shade his eyes. "I say, that doesn't look like any sort of cloud."

Ivy felt a p.r.i.c.kling on the back of her neck and her arms. She looked at the fields of poppies around them; the flowers still drooped on their stalks, motionless. There was not a breath of wind. drooped on their stalks, motionless. There was not a breath of wind.

Yet the trees moved as if propelled by a violent gale.

Even as understanding came to her, she heard the first shouts. The others must have heard as well, for they all followed Captain Branfort and leaped to their feet. Now people were rushing up the path, fleeing away from Madiger's Wall in the most chaotic fashion.

"What's all this now?" Mr. Baydon exclaimed.

Ivy looked upward. The black stain continued to spread over the sky, and at the same time a terrible sound rose on the air: deep groans punctuated by a shrill creaking. There were no words in the sound, but Ivy comprehended it all the same. It was an expression of shock and pain.

And of anger.

Several redcrests went dashing by, running not away from the wall but toward it.

"Ho, there!" Captain Branfort called, stopping one of them with a raised hand. "Can you give me a report?"

The soldier eyed Branfort's coat and nodded. "You had best get your people away from here, sir."

"Why should we leave?" Mr. Baydon said, his voice pitched rather high now. "I demand to know what is going on!"

The redcrest kept his attention on Captain Branfort. "We have a report that someone has made an attempt to lob torches soaked with naphtha over the wall, and there's a fire. Nor have they caught whoever did it."

"A fire!" Ivy said, a horror coming over her. "You mean in the Evengrove?"

"No, as far as we can tell none of the torches made it over the wall. It was too high for that, but the field and bracken all along the wall is ablaze. And the trees, they...I had believed it of course, all the stories in Torland, only I never really..."

The man shook his head, at a loss, but Ivy understood him perfectly. The Old Trees, beaten back by flame and ax for so many centuries, had perceived the acrid smoke and the heat licking against the stones of the wall. They felt the fire was near. centuries, had perceived the acrid smoke and the heat licking against the stones of the wall. They felt the fire was near.

And they had awakened from quiescence.

"I must take my leave, sir," the soldier said. "I only left to fetch more men. There is a water tower near the wall. We are to form a brigade."

Captain Branfort gave a firm nod. "The colonel and I can lend a hand, can't we?"

"Of course," Daubrent said grimly.

"Mr. Baydon, please escort the ladies a safe distance from the wall," Captain Branfort said. "Several furlongs at least. Mr. Baydon!"

Mr. Baydon blinked, then managed to look away from the wall and the thrashing trees. "Yes, of course. At once."