In the Hand of the Goddess by Tamora Pierce Page B

need,” she yawned disgustedly. “I didn’t think there’d be any fog tonight.”
    The mist rose quickly, smothering all the night noises. Everything sounded different: the river, thedistant camp, even the nearby waterfall. Alanna’s nose itched till her eyes watered. She felt like lying down right there and taking a nap. That would never do: She was on sentry duty! Where was the other guard? One should have come by now. Nervous, Alanna made her way to the river and splashed her face with cold water. That helped a little. Returning to her post, she discovered that she couldn’t waken Faithful. Something was very wrong; the itching of her nose meant sorcery, and Faithful seemed to be its victim. Should she go for help?
    The rock striking her head settled the question. Alanna dropped, and the men who had crept up behind her in the fog chuckled grimly.
    â€œHurry!” Jem Tanner hissed as they tied her hands and feet. “We won’t be safe from the spell much longer!”
    â€œWhat about the cat?” one of the men yawned. “He said to—”
    â€œForget the cat!” Jem snapped. “Just get the boy into the boat with the others!”

    A sentry on the second watch ran into camp, Faithful limp in his hands. “Squire Alan’s been kidnapped!” he told the prince, gasping. “The cat—he’s alive, butI can’t wake him! And the other guard who went out with the squire—he’s lyin’ in his tent. I can’t wake him either!”
    Jonathan took Faithful, reaching with his Gift into the sleeping animal. Without warning, his eyes rolled up and he collapsed. Faithful stirred and went back to sleep.
    The sentry brought Myles on the run. The knight wasted no time: He seized the water bucket and threw the contents over both Jon and Faithful. The cat only turned over and sighed. The prince stirred, gazing sleepily up at his friend. “Sorcery,” he whispered, sitting up. “Sorcery meant to make the cat sleep…” He grabbed the sentry, his face white. “Alan was kidnapped. You’re sure?”
    The watch captain ran into the tent. “Your Highness, Sir Myles—we’re missing three men along the river—two foot soldiers, Micah and Keel, and—”
    â€œAlan of Trebond,” Myles said grimly.
    â€œAye, sire. This blasted fog’s so thick you can barely see your hand before your face, but we found tracks. The sneaks landed below Micah’s post and worked their way to the falls, taking those three. I’ve got men watching for an attack now, and the camp’s on alert.”
    Faithful struggled to his feet and shook himself, his fur sticking out in wet points. Suddenly he let out a yowl of fury and dashed into the night. Myles and the soldiers stared after him in amazement.
    â€œSomeone knew he’d be on watch with Alan,” Jonathan said. Suddenly he looked old and grim. “They laid a magic that would affect Faithful in particular. When I touched him, I went under.” He bit his lip. “They may’ve taken three, but they wanted Alan. They knew he’d be there with his cat, and they took him.” He gripped Myles’s arm. “Myles, we have to do something! If they find out—”
    â€œHush, Jonathan!” Myles interrupted. “We’ll do all we can.”
    The sentry who brought Faithful cried out, “And that’s nothing ! We’re bound here by the stupidest lot of orders ever writ—” His captain and two noblemen were staring at him. He gulped and continued, “Saving your presence, Highness, my lord, but it’s true. Micah and Keel are chums of mine, and Squire Alan saved this eye, not two weeks ago, and we can’t help them!”
    Jonathan put a hand on the man’s shoulder, smiling tightly. “We’ll see, my friend.” He nodded to Myles. “I’m off to the fort. Maybe Roger will have some