A few moments before Magus had broken through the gates, Jasper had slipped over the wall in the form of a Black Hawk, carefully maintaining his concealment spell. He had flown around to the rear of the advancing force and landed, then, very cautiously and taking the utmost care not to allow his concealment spell to flicker, he had shifted directly into the form of a Fisher. The big cat stood on its hind legs and sniffed the damp pre-dawn air, which was particularly good for carrying scents. He smelled the mass of sorcerers and Fena witches up ahead, their strong, angry scents intermingling and almost overwhelming him. There was blood in the air, too. But he did not smell the scent he was looking for. He stalked closer on large, silent, padded feet, then scented the air again. There it was!
A stray arrow came toward him and he leapt aside, narrowly avoiding being hit. His concealment spell flickered and a nearby apprentice shouted, "There it is again!" and sent lightning his way. Growling in irritation at himself, he tightened the concealment and slinked off, following the scent trail. In a moment, he had found the one he was looking for, but she was surrounded by a group of Fena witches. They were shouting out curses and hurling them toward the Palace, where Drift and Thistle were standing above the gates. The Fisher sat down.
*
Ubi was far from the fighting. He had decided, down in the Garden, that his sister had everything under control. She usually did, after all. Ubi had a great deal of faith in her. His faith might have faltered if he could have seen the attackers in action, and he no doubt would have regretted not being there to help when they streamed through the gates. However, he was unaware of these developments. All he was thinking about was how to avoid detection as he tiptoed around a dormitory at the Keep.
Ubi knew that the first bell would ring at sunrise, and he did not want to be caught in the midst of the dormitory when the bell rang and they woke up. But the problem was, they all looked alike in the dim light. To make matters worse, it was a cool, damp morning and most of them had their blankets pulled up over their chins. He tiptoed from bed to bed, examining each apprentice as best he could. Surely the one he was looking for would be there somewhere...
In exasperation, Ubi shifted into the little brown owl that Magus used to force him to become, back when he was a prisoner and had to spy for the sorcerers. The owl's eyesight was far better in the darkness than his own, and it was also much better at moving in silence. He flapped softly around the dormitory, circling over the sleeping forms of the first-year apprentices, until finally he spotted one that looked familiar, and landed on the pillow next to him.
The owl tugged at the boy's blanket with its sharp beak.
The boy pulled his blanket up again, his hand moving automatically in his sleep.
The owl nipped his ear, then flapped up to a perch on a rafter to await the result.
The boy sat up, rubbing his ear and staring around the dark room. He did not seem to notice that an owl was perched just above him.
Ubi flapped down to the floor and shifted into himself.
The boy let out a startled cry.
Ubi put a hand over the boy's mouth and whispered, "Shh. If anyone wakes up, we'll both be thrown in the dungeon." Then he slowly took his hand away from the boy's mouth.
"Who is it?" the boy demanded, sounding scared and confused. "I can't see anything, it's too dark."
Ubi stared into the boy's eyes and whispered, "Arcanus Discriminis, come with me. Do not make a sound. Quickly, now. Do as you're told." He had seen sorcerers compel others, and knew how effective compulsion could be, especially when you called the person by their true name. It also helped to be more powerful than them, and Ubi was much more powerful than this boy or any of the other apprentices, even though he was only the age of an apprentice himself.
He was pleased that he had taken the time to meditate repeatedly on the boy's true name, which had finally come to him in a dream several nights ago. It was useful to know it, and the boy's true name also told Ubi that his hunch was a good one. This boy would make a good spy: It translated roughly as "secrecy and risk," which suggested to Ubi that he was a natural for the role of informer.
The boy rose slowly from his bed and stood.
When Ubi turned and tiptoed down the middle of the dormitory, the boy followed.
YOU ARE READING
Sarabande: River of Falcons Book 4
FantasyDrift rescues Summer, the Fena witch who raised her, and the Queen--who claims to be her mother. But is anyone who they say they are in this compelling and sometimes shocking new chapter in Drift's magical adventures?