The day was ending as it had begun -- no closer to finding them.
My wet clothes were sticking to my skin, and along with the evening breeze of the harbor, I was chilled, but I did not feel like leaving that place. It was quiet, I was alone with my thoughts and nature. In different times, this vantage of things would be awe-inspiring. The sunset was bleeding from orange to red to purple, and a storm front was rolling in.
I watched those clouds move from one side of the bay to the other.
We rode for days, pushing past the camp where we'd first met Gerard, moving onward without sleep. Fletcher had put his magics to work and rode on ahead to scout the way. Night flowed into day and back into night again, and the trail kept onward. Finally, Fletcher came back to tell us that the horses of the attacking party were found, but only a dozen or so of the savages were camped.
It took little convincing for us to subdue this group and start to extract information out of the remaining captives. With the assistance of my Tongues spell, Fletcher was able the make the shaman begin to see things our way. It had turned out that a group of individuals that he called "changelings" had made an agreement with the Wind Tamers to attack Amber with the guns. Along with whatever booty they'd gotten their hands on, the Wind Tamers were to capture Matthias and three virgins -- exactly what for was not gone into in detail. Matthias we could understand. Three virgins brought some horrible rites to mind. The shaman did not say if Syrana was a specific target or if it was just by chance that she was grabbed, but it made no difference now.
The changelings were described as humanoid, and one description in particular worried me -- a lithe blond woman, wearing a green silk dress and violet eyes. Other than the eyes, that was a description of Embeth -- and I could only worry more when Cecily revealed that in her world, Changelings was synonymous with faeries. I found it (and still find it) difficult to swallow that she would turn on us (me) like that -- although I admit that I know little of her true motives. Still, something could have happened to her, and perhaps the Changelings have the capability to mimic her...?
The sun finally dipped down below the horizon, and the sky was full of dark orange, pink and purple as dark violet clouds rolled in. The sky between clouds and sea wavered -- strong rain, I knew.
The bodies carpeted the cavern floor. We theorized that the changelings may have used glamours to turn the Wind Tamers on each other, betraying them after having gotten what they wanted. I felt nothing at these savage's deaths -- they'd gotten what they'd deserved. The unfortunate aspect that was our well of information had run dry. The shaman was speechless at the death of his people, and the paths that lead out of the caverns held no further path.
We'd failed.
Beaten, we'd saddled up and made the long trip back home. As remembered, there was not a lot said. I sat in my saddle and tried not to think of what had happened to Syrana, especially given the ominous overtones of why she was kidnapped. When we'd returned, and I'd learned she had been shot as well, it did not help things.
The sky has lost its color. Night awakes. Storms move toward us.
I'd decided that perhaps my last shot at this was to find out what happened to Embeth, for the good or bad. Fletcher is right in that this should not complicate all our lives, but I doubt they'll allow me to go alone.
Cecily should have an idea where to go from here.
Now it's dark.
No more will my green sea turn a deeper blue
I could not forsee this thing happening to you
Back to In the Blood
Ahead to Never Let You Go
Return to Diaries
Return to Griffin