The cursed towers 249
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Isabeau could not help being impressed. "A mistress o' illusions indeed," she said rather tartly.
"It took me some while to get used to doing it at will," Maya admitted. "I had to use a spell for quite a
time and then I managed one day to cast the glamourie without chanting the words and after that it
became easier and easier."
"And what about the spell o' transformation?" Isa-beau asked, every nerve in her body coiling tight.
Maya hesitated. "If I could have, I would have used it," she admitted. "There have been a few people I
would have loved to have turned into frogs or spiders, Margrit o' Arran among them, but I do no' know
how. I have always used the mirror ..."
Isabeau started to say something then changed her mind. Already there was a look of calculation on
Maya's face and Isabeau was afraid that once she realized she still had the power locked away inside
her, she would decide to practice on Isabeau herself. The young witch's thoughts had been on her father,
still trapped within the shape of a horse, and her longing to release him. Having Maya in full control of her
powers could well be dangerous, though, and so Isabeau bit her thumbnail and thought back over all that
Maya had told her.
"Why did Margrit o' Arran help ye then, if there was so much ill feeling between ye?" she asked
curiously. "By all accounts, she has no' got a sympathetic bone in her body."
Maya shrugged. "I went to Arran because I thought she had Bronwen there but it turned out to be a trick
o' Renshaw's. He fled there seeking sanctuary and she took him in because she thought it would be useful
to have Bronwen in her power. She was angry indeed when she found out Renshaw had deceived her."
She described the Grand-Seeker's macabre death and Isabeau exclaimed in horror.
"And ye say she sent a Khan'cohban warrior with ye?" Isabeau was puzzled. She could not think what a
Khan'cohban was doing in Arran or why he was in service to the NicFoghnan. Khan'cohban warriors
would never serve another unless they were in geas to them or unless that person was higher in the social
hierarchy. Only the First Warrior and the Firemaker were of higher status than a fully scarred warrior.
"O' how many scars?"
"Six," Maya answered with curiosity in her voice. "Why?"
"And ye say he recognized the Cursed Peaks?" Alarm suddenly ran through her. "So ye think the
NicFoghnan wants Bronwen for her own ends? Did the Khan' cohban throw ye out o' the swan carriage
so that ye could no' stop him from seizing her?"
Maya nodded. "Aye, I think so. But Bronwen is no' here with ye and I have the plait o' hair still, so I
canna see how he could find ye, or her for that matter . . ."
"But did ye no' say he recognized the mountains in the scrying pool as the Cursed Peaks?" Maya nodded
and Isabeau went on, her voice rising in alarm, "And if he comes from the Spine o' the World, he will
know about the Cursed Towers." Unconsciously she used the Khan'cohban term for the Towers of
Roses and Thorns. She got to her feet and began to pace in her agitation. "He threw ye out because he
did no' need ye or the plait o' bluidy hair to locate her. He knew where he was going!"
Maya stiffened in response. "Ye mean he knows where Bronwen is?"
Isabeau nodded and wrung her hands. "It's been almost a week since I found ye—could he fly the swan
carriage over the peaks? Do swans fly so high?"
Maya shook her head. "The plan was to alight some way up the mountain and send the carriage back to
