Sarabande: River of Falcons Book 4

34. The Stone Spiral

Arty was pacing back and forth, reciting spells under his breath. "I hope we're ready," he said nervously. "I've never done either of these workings before."

"Um, what?" Ubi asked vaguely. He was sitting on a log, staring at the river.

"Did you even practice? We have to do the transvection spell, then go right away into a transportable concealment spell. If you mess it up, you'll give us all away!"

"Really, Arty," Ubi complained. "Why don't you ever trust me? I swear, you're the most suspicious person. I bet you're going to be the one who messes up. I wouldn't be surprised if you — Never mind. It's too horrible even to think about." Ubi scowled and broke a twig.

Arty stopped pacing and glared at him. "You weren't practicing, were you? What were you doing?"

"Um, just thinking." Ubi frowned. He had meant to recite the spells once more to make sure he remembered them, but he kept imagining his companions being struck down by spears and lightning. "I'm just worried," he told himself, but when he pushed those images away, another image came unbidden to him: A huge, stately old willow tree standing proudly in a meadow, its branches waving in the wind. There was a rainstorm, and the dark, hollowed out center of that tree offered the only shelter to be found. "It must be symbolic," Ubi muttered, "but of what?" He had no idea what any of these images meant, perhaps nothing at all, but they kept him from concentrating on the spells.

"Putridum nux!" Arty scowled at him. "You're daydreaming again! Did you even hear my question?"

Jasper stood up from where he had been meditating cross-legged on top of a broad stone. A frown crossed his face. "Arty, please don't raise your voice," he said. "We're trying to avoid being noticed by our enemies."

"Right," Arty mumbled, resuming his pacing.

"Ubi?" Jasper said, walking toward them. "Did you learn the spells?"

"I think so," Ubi said.

"It would be best to be sure."

"All right, I'm sure," Ubi replied. "But what about dinner? We can't possibly go until we've eaten."

Jasper frowned. "I don't think there's going to be any dinner."

"Ubi's ruled by his stomach," Nighthawk commented with a grin.

"I don't doubt it," Onuma replied with a smile of her own, "but still, he does have a point. We will probably be quite active tonight. It would be wise to eat before we set off into enemy territory. Nighthawk, will you help me gather?"

"Gather?" Ubi repeated, giving them a puzzled look.

"Yes," Onuma said. "Gather whatever looks good to eat. How's your botany? Want to help out?"

"I was thinking of a nice meal cooked in the Palace kitchens. We could fly up there, have dinner, then sneak back out," Ubi suggested.

"No we couldn't," Jasper said. "We've missed dinner at the Palace already. Besides, your mother probably wouldn't let you out again. Arty and I'll start a fire while the rest of you gather whatever you can find. Come here, Arty, and stop pacing. You're making me nervous."

As Arty and Jasper began to collect fallen branches, Onuma and Nighthawk headed off toward the river-bank.

What are you going to gather, Ubi?" Arty asked. "Time to earn your keep. Bring me something tasty, would you?"

"If you insist," Ubi said.

"We do insist," Jasper replied. "You're the only one still idle. And would you please find some birch-bark? We can use it for dishes. Thanks."