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have we come to this?"
"Do you intend to fight, or talk me to death?"
Andris came toward Matteo with a shallow, testing blow. Matteo's sword
flashed forward and slapped it aside.
"No one has to die here."
"Only Halruaa. Only her wizards, her laws, her lies!"
"I can't accept that," Matteo said, batting aside a couple of quick blows.
"Whatever ills Halruaa suffers, she won't die this day."
"She already has," Andris said, with a small, strange smile Matteo could not
begin to read. "She is just too stupid and stubborn to admit it."
In a skyship above the clearing, Tzigone leaned far out over the railing and
watched the battle. Farrah Noor, unnerved by this daring, stood behind Tzigone
with a two-fisted grip on her tunic. Tzigone gently brushed away the girl's well-
meaning grasp and turned to Basel. "I'm going down there."
The wizard shook his head. "This ship can't get in close enough. I'd have to
let you down in the valley, where the fighting is too intense. Even if you could
fight your way clear, you'd never get up the mountain in time to help."
Tzigone was not listening. Her eyes roamed the ship for a solution. "The
wind-dancer sail. I could hold it and jump. It will slow my fall."
"So would a feather-fall spell," Basel retorted, "and with far more accuracy
and safety."
Tzigone lifted one eyebrow. The wizard threw up his hands. "All right, there
is a way to get you down."
Basil hurried to his cabin and returned with a small scroll. Tzigone
memorized the simple spell and vaulted over the rail, chanting as she fell. The
spell took hold suddenly, and it seemed as if the air had become as thick as
cream. She drifted easily down, running even before both boots touched stone.
Spurring her on was the sound of swords clashing and pounding in furious battle.
She caught sight of the formidable gray warrior who stood over the mouth of
a spring, watching the two men battle and awaiting Matteo's death with eager
eyes. A soft cry escaped Tzigone. The gray woman glanced in her direction.
Tzigone dived behind a jagged pile of rocks. After a moment, the Crinti turned
her attention back to the two men.
Tzigone peered between two rocks, not at all certain of the battle's outcome.
Matteo and Andris were both superbly fit and trained. They fought together as
skillfully as dance partners, as attuned to each other's movements as source and
shadow. Tzigone sensed that the bonds connecting them were strong. Andris
seemed to be fighting to sunder them. No less desperately did Matteo battle to
keep his friend from slipping away.
Tzigone clung to the rock as if to hope itself. "Let him go, Matteo," she
whispered.
So intent was she on the battle that she did not notice the approach of the
Crinti. Suddenly a score of them slipped into the clearing and formed a ring
around the fighters.
Tzigone's heart plummeted to her boots. The Crinti would not let Matteo
leave this place whether he won or lost. There was nothing she could do for him
but watch him die.
Or was there?
Dhamari claimed the song of the Unseelie folk was enough to put the Crinti
to flight. She hoped he spoke the truth.
Tzigone edged away from the valley and scuttled up a rocky wall to the top
of a small cliff so that her song might dance between the mountains and
confound her hiding place. Her perch gave her a view of Matteo's battle, as well
as the larger conflict in the valley below.
She glanced at the main battlefield. Three of the sky-ships lay in smoking
ruins on the valley floor. The bodies of the slain were so numerous that the
remaining fighters could barely move among them. It seemed to her that most of
the survivors were Crinti. A few magical missiles fell from the airborne skyships
now that the fighting was not so close, but most of the wizards were still hesitant
to fire upon Halruaans who might yet be alive.
Still more Crinti emerged from the caves and passes, converging upon the
dying army. She could make them flee. All she had to do was cast the spell and
pray she still had the strength to banish the dark fairies once the deed was done.
Tzigone crouched down and began to sing the spell. All around her, the
mountains echoed as Unseelie voices echoed her song. The Crinti in the valley
below began to flee, but the circle that formed around the two jordaini held firm.
"Loyal, but not very smart," said a voice at her elbow. "The gate is thinnest
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