Ivy began to understand. The man in black had said that the doors on Tyberion all led to various places in the world. By them, magicians could have moved about swiftly. Logic implied that the doors here on Arantus were similar. However, it was her guess that these doors had not been intended to help magicians travel swiftly, but rather witches.

Long ago, she supposed, all of these doors had led to various places within the Wyrdwood. But over the centuries, so many of the Old Trees had been cut down and burned, and villages, towns, and cities had been raised in their place. Had there once been a grove upon the spot where the house on Durrow Street now stood? If so, a new grove now sprouted where the old had once grown.

She kept moving. Then her heart leaped as she came to another door that opened into a grove of trees. Though crooked and shedding their leaves, these trees were tall and powerful, woven into a dense fabric that had never been cut, never been frayed or torn.

The man in the black mask was right. She did did know. know.

Ivy cast a glance behind her. She could still see the door she had come through in the distance, and even a glimpse of the gallery beyond. However, it was to another place she had to go.

It was for this purpose that the way station had been constructed eons ago-so women just like her might move among the groves. The builders had placed it here, far removed from the world, so that the enemy would not know of it. While, in the end, the Ashen had discovered the way station on Tyberion, and had destroyed the doors there, it was clear they had never found what had been hidden on Arantus. Ivy turned to face the door. For a moment she stood there, bathed in the purple light of Dalatair.

Then she stepped through the doorway.

Ivy let out a breath of dry, frigid air one moment, then drew in one rich and moist and warm with life the next. She thought of the way the trees in the garden had lifted her up to bear her upon their branches. Then she reached out, touching the rough bark of the ancient trunks around her.

There are two magicians by the wall that bounds you, Ivy called out with her thoughts. Hurry-you must take me to them! Hurry-you must take me to them!

And the Wyrdwood listened to its witch.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.

THE MORE RAFFERDY watched the landscape out the window, the slower it seemed to creep by.

He slumped back against the upholstered bench. His head ached from the incessant vibrations of the carriage, and his throat was dry from lack of anything to drink. An hour ago, the driver had brought them to a halt at an inn by a crossroads, and he had climbed down to ask if Rafferdy wished to stop for something to eat. However, Rafferdy had no appet.i.te, not after the things he had witnessed that day. And while he would gladly have drunk down several gla.s.ses of whiskey, if given the chance, it was better that he kept full command of his faculties. There was no telling what he would have to do when they arrived at Madiger's Wall. He told the driver to climb back up to his perch, and to continue on with all haste. climbed down to ask if Rafferdy wished to stop for something to eat. However, Rafferdy had no appet.i.te, not after the things he had witnessed that day. And while he would gladly have drunk down several gla.s.ses of whiskey, if given the chance, it was better that he kept full command of his faculties. There was no telling what he would have to do when they arrived at Madiger's Wall. He told the driver to climb back up to his perch, and to continue on with all haste.

He winced as the carriage was jolted by a particularly deep rut. Outside, the hills and fields were beginning to fade from gold to ash gray.

"Come on, hurry it along," he said through clenched teeth, even though he knew the horses could go no faster than they were.

Besides, in his note, Coulten had written that he still had to go to the magus of the order to receive his instructions. Nor was it possible that he might travel to the wall any more quickly than Rafferdy; horses could only run so fast. Which meant Coulten could not be very far ahead of him. All the same, Rafferdy leaned forward in the seat, as if to be sure to arrive not a moment later than possible.

Ever since leaving the city, a dread had been steadily growing in him that he was already too late-that when Coulten went to the magus he had been taken to the inner sanctum to be made into one of the gray men. Or perhaps he had been delivered to Mertrand and the sages of the High Order of the Golden Door. As peculiar as Lord Farrolbrook had acted earlier that day, his words had all possessed a ring of truth, and he had said it was the Golden Door that was the source of many of the gray men.

By what terrible enchantment it was done, Rafferdy could not imagine, though he could guess Lord Mertrand's methods well enough. Young men who could trace their ancestry to one of the seven Old Houses would be recruited, enticed with promises of power, and eventually invited into a secret chamber. There, an eldritch symbol would be drawn upon their hand. Then, by means of some unspeakable magick, a daemon would be summoned and placed within the vessel of their body. Surely that was what had happened to the man who had tried to harm King Rothard at the opening of a.s.sembly, and to the man who had destroyed the Ministry of Printing. happened to the man who had tried to harm King Rothard at the opening of a.s.sembly, and to the man who had destroyed the Ministry of Printing.

And it was what had happened to Eubrey as well.

That the person who had heretofore resided within that mortal sh.e.l.l survived this process was impossible. Rafferdy had only to recall the dead look in Eubrey's eyes to know it for a fact. A shudder pa.s.sed through him, and he wondered-would he see the same flat, empty expression in Coulten's gaze if he did find his friend at the wall?

Only, he could not think that way. According to Farrolbrook, Lord Mertrand had made a bargain with the magus of another order-the Arcane Society of the Virescent Blade, Rafferdy was sure. Farrolbrook had said this magus was sending a magician to Madiger's Wall to perform an experiment, and it could only be Coulten. Eubrey had not yet been made a gray man when he was sent to the wall to do his task, and Rafferdy had to hope it was the same for Coulten.

The carriage gave a violent lurch, and Rafferdy supposed they had hit another rut. Only then the fields ceased to move outside the window, and the rattling of the carriage ceased. They had come to a halt.

Rafferdy was out the door before the driver could climb down from the bench. A purple gloom was thickening on the air. Across the fields, a quarter mile away, he could see a dark line surmounted by ragged shapes.

"I'm sorry, sir," the driver said from his perch, "but I don't believe I can go any closer. I've heard reports that no one is being allowed near Madiger's Wall, and I can see soldiers ahead."

Rafferdy could just make them out in the gloaming. There were several redcrests standing beside a wooden barricade that lay across the road. The men were lighting lanterns against the coming dark.

"Turn the carriage around," Rafferdy said. "Go back around the bend until you're out of sight of the wall, and then stop there."

The driver nodded, and Rafferdy climbed back into the carriage, going about it slowly to be sure the soldiers had seen him get in. The driver brought the horses around, and the carriage turned, going back down the road and away from the wall. Then it came to a halt, and Rafferdy climbed back out. The barricade and the soldiers were no longer in sight. going about it slowly to be sure the soldiers had seen him get in. The driver brought the horses around, and the carriage turned, going back down the road and away from the wall. Then it came to a halt, and Rafferdy climbed back out. The barricade and the soldiers were no longer in sight.

"Now what, my lord?" the driver called down. "Do we make back to the inn, or all the way to Invarel?"

"Wait for me," Rafferdy said, and without waiting for a response, he struck out across the fields, cane in hand.

He walked through the tall gra.s.s, going a full furlong perpendicular to the road before he turned to start making his way back toward the Evengrove. After some distance he crested a low rise and saw it again before him-the long line of gray stone, crowned by straggled shapes. He was now out of view of the barricade across the road, but in the gloom, he could see points of light bobbing as they moved to and fro. There were soldiers patrolling back and forth along the base of the wall. Rafferdy let out an oath. How was he going to get past them without being seen?

Even as he considered this, a column of blue light shot upward, cutting a livid gash in the dusky sky. For several heartbeats the column glowed hotly in the distance, somewhere past the soldiers' barricade, then it fell back on itself and was abruptly snuffed out. Rafferdy heard the faint sound of shouting. Now all the points of light along the wall were moving in one direction-toward the place where the gout of blue fire had sprung up.

Despite his dread, he let out a laugh. Coulten was cleverer than Rafferdy sometimes gave him credit for. In a recent meeting of the society, the sages had described how certain volatile chemicals might be placed in two chambers of a box, with a magickal barrier between them. If the enchantment was fashioned carefully, it would expire after a prescribed period, at which point the two chemicals would mix and react.

That Coulten had used this very method to arrange the diversion, Rafferdy was certain. What's more, it meant that Coulten himself could not yet have reached the wall. The soldiers would have kept him at bay. Only now all of the points of light had moved off into the distance, past the barricade. Along the section of the wall before Rafferdy, there were no lights at all, only gloom and shadow. moved off into the distance, past the barricade. Along the section of the wall before Rafferdy, there were no lights at all, only gloom and shadow.

Gripping his cane, Rafferdy started toward the wall at a rapid pace. He imagined Coulten had stationed himself as close to the door as possible, ready to dash to it once the soldiers all ran off toward the commotion. Which meant Coulten would likely get there first.

Rafferdy was right. He was still a good fifty paces from the wall when he saw a line of crimson sparks flicker into being. Glancing down at his ring, he detected a faint glow within the blue gem-an answering echo to the magick that had just been worked up ahead.

"Blast you, Coulten," Rafferdy growled under his breath. "Don't you dare step through that door."

Rafferdy picked up his cane and broke into a run as he crossed the last distance to the wall. He arrived just in time to see the last of the red stones fade away, leaving the crimson line of runes hanging in midair. A man with a tall crown of hair stood before the opening. He started to step toward it, only then he turned around at the noise behind him.

"Rafferdy!" Coulten cried, pressing a hand to his chest, then hurriedly lowered his voice. "Good G.o.d, but you gave me an awful fright. I thought that you were a soldier come upon me."

Rafferdy let out a breath, not only from exertion, but also from relief. Even in the dimness, it was clear from his words and the expression on his face that this was still the Coulten he knew.

"No, all the soldiers ran off in the other direction, thanks to your little diversion."

Now Coulten grinned, his teeth glowing in the light of the rising moon. "Did you see it? I must say, I thought it went off splendidly. And here Eubrey says I never pay attention at meetings."

Rafferdy could only cringe at the mention of Eubrey's name.

"Only, I say, Rafferdy, what the devil are you doing here?" His eyes went wide. "Did the magus send you here to help me? But that's capital-it means you're to be admitted to the inner circle of the society with me! Well, come on, then. We'd best get through before the soldiers come back. The magus says there is a path through the door." the society with me! Well, come on, then. We'd best get through before the soldiers come back. The magus says there is a path through the door."

With that, he turned and stepped through the opening in the wall. Not knowing what Coulten intended-or had been ordered-to do, Rafferdy hurried after him. The rough stone pa.s.sage was dark inside, but it was no more than a dozen feet long, and they quickly reached the end of it. Beyond was a tangle of black branches limned in silver moonlight.

Before them was the tall tree Eubrey had stuck with his knife, while past it was something Rafferdy had not noticed that lumenal. Perhaps the green shadows of day had made it blend in with the forest floor. Now the stray moonbeams that slipped through the branches gleamed off the red stones upon the ground.

Rafferdy followed the line of stones with his eyes. While the trees grew right up to the path, none of them grew over it. Instead, it ran straight through the forest, vanishing into the darkness. Given the color of the stones, Rafferdy could only suppose the path had been put here by the same magicians who had made the door in the wall. Yet for what purpose did they need a trail leading into the Evengrove?

"You're not intending to follow that path, are you?" Rafferdy said, laying a hand on Coulten's arm.

"Of course not, Rafferdy! The magus's directions were very clear-to open the door and wait for him at the start of the path. But didn't he tell you the same thing?"

Rafferdy only shook his head. "We have to go, Coulten. We have to leave and close the door. Now."

"What are you talking about?" Coulten said, his frown dimly visible in the gloom. "We can't leave before the magus gets here. If we fail at the task he gave us, then he won't admit us to the inner circle of the society and make us sages like Eubrey."

Rafferdy clenched his jaw. "Eubrey isn't a sage, Coulten. And they're not going to make us into sages either. That was never their intention."

Coulten shook off Rafferdy's hand. "Now you're making no sense at all, Rafferdy. Of course Eubrey's a sage! We saw him ourselves at the last meeting of the society." sense at all, Rafferdy. Of course Eubrey's a sage! We saw him ourselves at the last meeting of the society."

"Did we? We saw a number of men in gold robes and hoods, but did we really see Eubrey that night?"

"I'm certain one of them was him," Coulten said, though in fact he sounded less certain now.

Rafferdy drew in a breath. There was so much he had to tell Coulten. Only how could he begin? He didn't know, but he had to.

"Coulten," he said in a grim voice, "there's something you have to know. Eubrey is-"

A rushing sound filled the air, quickly rising to a roar, drowning out Rafferdy's voice. He looked past Coulten, at the tangled forest, and he was gripped by a sudden dread.

"By all of Eternum!" Coulten called out. "Not again!"

Beyond the tunnel, the trees swayed back and forth, their boughs shaking as if from the winds of a storm. Yet crazed beams of moonlight darted between the branches as they danced about; the night sky was cloudless.

"Come on!" Rafferdy shouted, and he seized Coulten's arm, pulling him back through the tunnel.

This time Coulten needed no encouragement. The two men dashed through the tunnel, out the entrance, and stumbled a dozen paces from the wall before turning to look back. Rafferdy lifted his gaze to the crowns of the trees. Just like before, the branches trembled and tossed. Only there was something different about their motions this time. They were not so violent and furious as they had been that day.

"Is it another Rising?" Coulten said.

However, at that moment, the agitation of the branches began to slow. The roaring noise dwindled. Then, with one last rustling sigh, several branches bent down and, with what seemed a strangely gentle motion, set something down on the top of the wall. Then a stray moonbeam gleamed off golden hair, and Rafferdy drew in a breath as wonder filled him.

"No," he murmured, "it's not a Rising."

Coulten had been looking through the tunnel. Only now, following Rafferdy's gaze, he began to lift his head to look upward. Despite Rafferdy's shock and confusion, one clear thought occurred to him: Coulten must not see what had alighted atop the wall. Rafferdy's gaze, he began to lift his head to look upward. Despite Rafferdy's shock and confusion, one clear thought occurred to him: Coulten must not see what had alighted atop the wall.

"Great G.o.ds, look there!" Rafferdy exclaimed, turning to point behind them. "Are those soldiers coming?"

Coulten's eyes went wide, and he spun around. "Where?" he said, peering away from the wall, toward the darkened fields. "I don't see any-oh." His words ended in a soft exhalation as he slumped to the ground.

Rafferdy gripped his cane, whose ivory handle he had just applied with some force to the back of Coulten's skull. Then he knelt down to make sure the other young man was yet breathing, and that he had not fallen in an awkward position. These things were readily confirmed. Coulten would be fine-though he was bound to have an awful headache once he woke.

"Do forgive me, my friend," he said in a low voice, "but I couldn't let you see her."

Even as he said this, he heard a rustling of leaves behind him. He stood and turned around. The top of the wall was empty now, and the crowns of the trees were motionless. Then a slender figure stepped out of the opening in the wall and into the moonlight.

"Mr. Rafferdy," she said with a smile, as if they had just encountered each other by chance while out for a stroll on the Promenade.

For his part, Rafferdy was beyond astonishment. "Mrs. Quent," he said, and gave an elegant bow.

Now she hurried toward him, her smile replaced by an expression of concern. "But what have you done to Lord Coulten?"

"I didn't think it prudent that he see you here," Rafferdy replied.

She hesitated, then nodded. "I suppose it is for the best that he didn't. But will he...?"

"He will be fine enough when he wakes. Though he will also be very angry with me, I imagine. Only that doesn't matter right now." Rafferdy took a step toward her. "What in the world are you doing here, Mrs. Quent? And more important, now." Rafferdy took a step toward her. "What in the world are you doing here, Mrs. Quent? And more important, how how are you here?" are you here?"

"I can explain everything, Mr. Rafferdy. But you must come with me. We don't have much time."

"Come with you? Where?"

She held out a small hand toward him. "Into the Evengrove."

ONLY SCANT MINUTES had pa.s.sed since Mrs. Quent had stepped out of the door in the wall, but everything had changed in that brief time. He had listened in both horror and fascination as she described all that had happened to her that evening. Now, despite the balmy night, Rafferdy suffered a terrible chill. Yet if she could be willing to do this, he must do the same. He gathered his courage, such as it was, then followed Mrs. Quent into the stone pa.s.sage.

"Should I bind the door shut behind us?" he said, his words echoing off the stone. "I don't want Coulten following us if he wakes up."

"No, don't close it," she said, touching his arm. "The man in the mask said it cannot be opened from this side. That's why Gambrel needed someone here to open it for him."

Rafferdy nodded. He knew now that was the real task Eubrey had been sent here to do that day-to make sure an initiate could open the door in the wall. Only, then Eubrey had been used for a different purpose, and so another initiate had been needed to perform the duty.

"I can make sure Coulten does not follow us," she said as they stepped from the pa.s.sage and into the forest. She turned, then laid her hand on the trunk of the large tree that stood before the opening. The tree gave a shudder, then all at once its branches bent down, weaving together in an impenetrable curtain, blocking the pa.s.sage through the wall.

Rafferdy watched all of this with fascination. "It seems magick is not the only way to bind doors," he said dryly.

"I suppose you're right," she said, giving him a fleeting smile. Then her expression turned grave. "We must hurry, Mr. Rafferdy."

"Of course," he said, and started down the stone path.

"No, not that way," she said behind him. "Walking will be too slow. We would never reach the tomb before Gambrel."

He turned to regard her. "Then how do you propose we get there?"

"Just as I got here," she said, reaching up to entwine her fingers with leaves and twigs. "The trees will know the way."

And before he could ask her what she meant, a number of branches reached down and plucked Rafferdy up off the ground.

He let out a cry of alarm and struggled to free himself, only it was no use. Strong green tendrils coiled around his limbs, and in a moment he was borne thirty feet off the ground, up to the very tops of the trees. The stars and moon glittered overhead.

"Don't be afraid, Mr. Rafferdy!" a voice called out.

He looked around wildly, then saw her only a short distance away. She seemed to float on the very tops of the trees, held aloft by the swaying motions of the branches.