Child of a Mad God

by R. A. Salvatore

  Talmadge shrugged. What did it matter? What did anything matter? “I am bleeding,” he managed to say.

  “Not enough,” the Usgar said, yanking out the crystal knife from Talmadge’s shirt and instead stabbing it hard into his side.

  How he screamed!

  The Usgar nodded, pleased. He twisted the knife a bit, eliciting more screams and setting it more firmly, then walked away casually.

  * * *

  The song grew louder, though it was nothing major—certainly no witch casting magic, she understood. She thought of the dagger, blessed probably, and nodded, thinking that might be the answer, the source.

  And she was getting closer, certainly. But then the song ended, abruptly, confusing Aoleyn. She slowed, but kept going in the same direction.

  There, in a tangle of birch and brush, she spotted the three warriors of Tay Aillig’s troupe. Just for a moment, though, for then a great darkness entered the birch, stealing her night vision, and even from this distance, she felt the magic of her levitation waver, just briefly.

  Before she could begin to sort out the riddle, she heard again the song, from not far away, and so she moved that way, circling wide the birch, to see a man, the victim, hanging from a tree branch. The song of Usgar came from him, from the dagger embedded into his side! For a moment, her heart fell; this was no Usgar, but neither was his head misshapen.

  But no, she peered closer, and it was not Bahdlahn.

  She looked back to the birch tangle, but saw only the darkness of night, and darker silhouettes, of the Usgar men, it seemed.

  Were they using a diamond to steal the light, as she had discovered?

  She shook her head. When she had used the diamond, it had stolen all light, but she could make out the forms, just not with her cat’s-eye magic.

  It made no sense.

  She used the garnet, and focused her thoughts on that tangle, and the strange sensation that came back to her sent a wave of nausea through her. A sensation she had never felt before, off-putting, unbalancing, and it seemed to her as if there was a song there, but … inverted? As though to perfectly complement and cancel the notes of her magic. An antisong, canceling the notes of Usgar’s refrain.

  Aoleyn shook her head. Was it the fossa? Was the demon among them?

  Had Tay Aillig somehow allied with the beast? And if so, then what was all of this? What was he luring to battle him and his new demonic ally?

  It didn’t make sense.

  None of it did.

  In the clearing under the tree, the prisoner wailed in pain.

  Aoleyn didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t let this stand. She flew out, away from the birch tangle, circling the prisoner in a widening perimeter, searching for the fossa, or for something, at least, to help her better understand.

  Not so far away, she found a hunter, no doubt lured by the smell of fresh blood. But it was not the fossa.

  Aoleyn took a deep breath, realizing the danger, but knowing that she was out of options.

  She set down on a low branch, not so high above a giant brown bear. The enormous animal snuffled about some brush behind a fallen tree, seemingly unaware, but only for a moment. Suddenly it turned and stared straight at Aoleyn, sniffing still, trying to figure her out.

  The bear showed no fear, and why should it? These great brown creatures had no rivals on Fireach Speuer, and even the Usgar hunters gave them a wide berth. More than a thousand pounds of power stared at Aoleyn now, barely ten strides away! She should have been terrified, she knew, keenly aware that the mighty animal could kill her with hardly an effort before she could bring any magic to her defense.

  And yet, she was not afraid. She met its gaze, eye to eye, and felt the resonance of the turquoise in it. She said not a word, thought not a word, and yet somehow she was communicating with it.

  The bear continued to sniff the air curiously. It rose up on its hind legs, head going up to perhaps thrice Aoleyn’s height—even on the branch, the bear was not so far below her.

  She continued to reach out through the turquoise cuff on her ear, trying to build some trust, some calm measure between them.

  So far, so good.

  But now came the test. Aoleyn thought of the poor man hanging at the tree. He needed her or he would surely die. Horribly.

  She gathered up her energy, called upon the song of the turquoise more fully, and on the magic of the wedstone set to her belly button. She let her spirit fly free of her corporeal form, gathered up the magic of the turquoise with that spirit, and flew missilelike at the bear.

  As soon as it realized the intrusion, the animal roared mightily in protest. It fell to all fours and swatted the fallen tree, tossing it aside like a hollow reed, and advanced upon the form of its tormentor.

  How strange for Aoleyn to watch her own body through the bear’s movements!

  Strange and terrifying, for the bear was stalking her, and she could tell that it meant to destroy her. She couldn’t reason with it, couldn’t bring it back from its defensive anger.

  So she didn’t try. Instead, she attacked, mentally.

  The hulking bear stopped and stood once more. It roared—because Aoleyn made it roar.

  It turned because Aoleyn made it turn.

  It headed for the tree and the hanging man.

  35

  POWER

  It heard the song flowing through the trees, calling to it. It felt the wind on the song, and heard the song on the wind, and it felt the burning desire, to consume that wind, to consume that song.

  It saw, clearly, for the first time in years, though it did not remember in years. It only saw the red-lit forest, the glowing patches of light and life, the animals tucked into their dens and hidden in their burrows. They feared it; it did not care for their fear. It did not care for their blood. Not now, not this night.

  The fossa cared only for the song.

  It slid through the forest, low and silent on padded feet, no more than a shadow under a bloodred moon.

  Other melodies played, some louder, some softer, but this one, this moaning magic carried on the wind, called most loudly though very distantly, and so it ran.

  And so the fossa hunted.

  * * *

  Aghmor swallowed hard when he heard the roar, so near and so full of strength.

  “Fossa?” Ralid whispered, but Tay Aillig snapped his hand up into the air, demanding silence.

  Another roar, deep and powerful.

  Aghmor noted the War Leader shaking his head, seeming less than excited. Tay Aillig didn’t think it was the fossa. Neither did Aghmor, and he surely hoped it was not.

  The four warriors stood in a diamond formation in the birch tangle, with Tay Aillig in front, flanked by Ralid and Egard, and with Aghmor in back, opposite the roaring. He clutched his lakeman’s sword, tightly, rolling his fingers about the leather-wrapped hilt. Despite his nearly paralyzing fears, he crept up closer to Tay Aillig, peering out from around the large man.

  He saw the prisoner struggling still, trying to keep one toe or the other on the ground. The man snorted and spat, and dripped a stream of blood from his impaled side, and every twist or turn brought a groan as his arms remained above, almost wholly supporting him.

  A rustle in the brush across the way caught Aghmor’s attention, a sizable tree shaking suddenly with more than the force of the night breeze.

  Aghmor heard his fellows suck in their breath when a form appeared, a huge silhouette, hulking and powerful.

  “Fossa,” Ralid breathed, and Aghmor shook his head, knowing it was not. He had seen the fossa, dragging his friend Brayth up the mountainside. It was nowhere near the size of this monster bear.

  Tay Aillig kept his hand up in the air, emphatically grabbing at the air to demand silence.

  Aghmor could hear the Usgar-laoch’s breathing, short and agitated, as the bear meandered into the clear area near the hanging prisoner, sniffing the air loudly and finally settling its gaze upon the birch tangle, upon them.

 
; Tay Aillig growled. “Drive the miserable beast away,” he told his charges. “Scream and jump and drive it away.”

  Aghmor could hardly believe the agitation in the man’s voice, but when he thought about it, it all made sense, of course. Tay Aillig had told them that he could kill the fossa, that he, and they, would become great heroes to all of Usgar.

  “Drive it away!” Tay Aillig demanded, shoving Egard, and then Ralid, out of the tangle, and pulling Aghmor out as well, pushing the man out before him.

  * * *

  She felt the power rippling through the bear’s limbs, through her limbs, with every stride. She came into the clearing and immediately looked to the birch tangle, and saw them, but more than that, she heard them, their every movement, every flutter of a leaf or crunch of a twig. And she smelled them even more clearly, four distinct scents!

  Aoleyn’s mind whirled at the amazing sensations. She thought of the owl’s vision and hearing, and now this. She had no idea that a bear could smell so keenly. She had no idea that the nights of Fireach Speuer were filled with such vivid and distinct aromas.

  It was that very thing, the smell of the poor prisoner’s blood, that reminded her not to tarry. She started for the hanging man, but paused and took a moment to ensure that she had full control of this mighty animal. One instant where the bear took control, where the predator breathed in that rich scent of blood so near, and the man would likely be dead.

  She rambled over, stood up tall, and with a single swipe of her powerful arm, raked the branch so deeply that she heard a profound crack within it. Her huge claws took the rope apart in two separate places, and immediately recognized her error. For the poor man tumbled, and the great bear wasn’t nimble enough to safely catch him, and he groaned all the louder when he hit the ground, and jolted in pain, for he fell onto his side with the embedded knife banging against the ground.

  Aoleyn wanted to help him, wanted to fly out of the bear and back to her own body and begin the healing immediately. She couldn’t, of course, for the bear would probably kill the man, and now, she noted, Tay Aillig and his warriors had come out onto the clearing.

  Aoleyn the bear reared on hind legs, towering above them. She hoped they would have the good sense to stay away!

  But no, on they came, with weapons leveled. She couldn’t believe it. She felt the strength of this form, and couldn’t believe they would be so foolish!

  Out ran the youngest to her left, Egard, and he hopped and shouted and clapped his hands together hard.

  Aoleyn felt the bear’s response, muted deep within by her overpowering possession. It felt a bit of alarm, perhaps, but more so, a sudden urge to run the puny man over.

  Out came Ralid, circling the other way, to her right, and with Tay Aillig and the fourth, Aghmor, coming straight at her. All of them started shouting, waving arms, even whistling. They were trying to confuse the bear, perhaps to chase it away.

  But Aoleyn wasn’t confused, and she wasn’t leaving.

  She decided to make that very clear. Nearest her was Egard, so she reared onto the bear’s hind legs and roared with all the power she could extract from this massive animal, a blast of fury that had Egard leaning back, then backpedaling fast.

  With frightening speed, the bear turned the other way, fell to all fours, and galloped at Ralid, who was too near the prisoner for Aoleyn’s liking. The young warrior fell back immediately, wisely, while Tay Aillig and the others began shouting, trying to distract the bear.

  Aoleyn wouldn’t be distracted. She charged at Ralid and had him in full retreat, closed on him as he neared some brush, and roared behind him, propelling him on his way as he dived over and through that tangle.

  Aoleyn felt a sensation of true power when she spun the bear about then, to see the other three warriors skidding desperately to stop and reverse their direction!

  Closest now was Aghmor, and Aoleyn knew all about Aghmor, the friend of Brayth. Never had that one been considered the bravest of warriors, and Aoleyn counted on that reputation now and burst toward him with frightening speed.

  The man was in a dead run in a heartbeat, straightaway and with no apparent desire to stop anytime soon.

  Tay Aillig, too, did not come in at the bear, though Aoleyn’s action had put the animal sidelong to him and open to a strike. He didn’t have a blessed Usgar spear, Aoleyn realized, and his present spear, stone-tipped, wouldn’t likely kill a giant brown bear.

  She turned on him and he hurled the weapon as she stood the bear up on hind legs once more.

  The missile struck the animal’s chest and started to penetrate, but Aoleyn brought a paw sweeping across to knock it aside before it could do any real harm.

  Tay Aillig drew a sword, a metal one that seemed well crafted, but backed away, and held back Egard as he started coming forward.

  Aoleyn dropped to all fours and measured her strides toward the duo, who backed equally as she approached.

  She focused on Tay Aillig, and the Usgar-laoch tipped her off, for he did not know that this was much more than a bear, after all! For he was looking past her, with just a hint of a sly grin spreading on his face.

  Aoleyn the bear whirled about even as the returning Ralid came rushing in from behind, leaping high, sword above his head for a devastating stab.

  Purely on reflex, barely aware of the movement, Aoleyn swiped across a huge paw, intercepting the flying assault. She had only meant to block the attack, and surely not to hit Ralid with such force.

  Such unbelievable power.

  He was in the air still, sidelong and spinning, his weapon flying aside, and he hit the same tree holding the prisoner in an awkward, diagonal position, crashing in with his arm and left shoulder and right hip with sickening, bone-crushing force.

  He hung there against the tree for just a moment, before rolling off to the ground, and only then did Aoleyn see the blood and the line of deep grooves the huge claws had inflicted across the man’s chest.

  He hadn’t even fully settled to stillness on the ground at the base of the tree when Aoleyn knew that he was dead.

  She was as angry as she was horrified, and she spun back to face the two Usgar warriors, both wearing expressions of sheer terror. She took no pleasure in seeing the awful Tay Aillig in such a state, not with the overwhelming smell of poor Ralid’s blood so thick in her borrowed nostrils!

  Up to her hind legs, she went, roaring and pacing forward determinedly. She didn’t want to kill these two, but she wasn’t going to let this play any longer.

  Mercifully, she didn’t have to, for both men turned and fled, and Aghmor, off in the distance still, was glad to join them.

  Aoleyn the bear gave chase, running them off for many, many strides and let them get far ahead before releasing the bear, her spirit exiting its mind, relinquishing control.

  She flew back effortlessly across the terrain, to the shining light she knew to be her own corporeal form, still sitting in the tree as she had left it. A dizzying sensation accompanied her back into that body, but she shook it away and jumped down from the tree, knowing the prisoner needed her immediately, and hoping against hope that she could help Ralid, as well.

  She ran into the clearing, saw the prisoner lying on the ground in a widening pool of blood, saw Ralid crumbled against the tree, unmoving, too still. She wanted to go to him.

  But he was dead, Aoleyn knew, and this man before her was not.

  She went to the prisoner and rolled him over, reaching into her wedstone. She sent the healing magic into him with full force, then again, then a third time as she eased the crystalline knife out of his side, sealing the wound even as her extraction opened it wide.

  The man breathed deeply and seemed to settle, and Aoleyn scrambled to the tree. Yes, Ralid was dead, she rationally knew, but she had to try. She jostled him and called upon her wedstone yet again.

  But there was nothing to heal, no hint of a life force she could latch onto and expand.

  The truth of it hit her, right in the face. Ral
id was dead, and she had done it. She hadn’t meant to kill him, not even to hurt him, her movement was simply intended to protect the bear from the man’s sword.

  She tried to tell herself that. He was dead, and Aoleyn had done it.

  She had killed a man. She had killed an Usgar.

  She couldn’t take her eyes from the wound, three deep gouges cutting from shoulder to halfway across his chest—so deep that she could see between his ribs at one point, to his torn lung.

  Tears welled in the young woman’s eyes. She knew that she had to hurry. The bear could be coming back; stubborn Tay Aillig might be coming back! But she couldn’t move. Not then. She couldn’t even blink as the enormity of what she had done assailed her.

  After Brayth had taken her that day in Seonagh’s tent, Seonagh had told her that she had lost her innocence. That had, in fact, been one of the last things Seonagh had ever said.

  But Aoleyn had never felt that way, not in the least. She had done as she had to do, and she had never done anything to hurt anyone else. She hadn’t enjoyed the experience, certainly, had hated Brayth for doing that to her, and Seonagh for letting it happen, but the word “innocence” meant to her that she would have had to do something proactive; she would have had to initiate the action.

  Now, though, staring at Ralid, Aoleyn knew the truth of it. Now, she had truly lost her innocence, and she could never retrieve it.

  She had killed a person.

  A groan from behind her shook her from her stupor, and once she glanced back at the prisoner, the spell of the sight of dead Ralid was broken.

  Aoleyn ran to him and he shied as she moved to help him sit up.

  Instead, Aoleyn cast another spell of healing upon him, and he straightened noticeably, and more of his wounds mended.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Tal—” he said, but he sharply inhaled and leaned back, trying to get his bound hands in front of him. His eyes went wide.

  Aoleyn glanced back to see the return of the bear.

  “He won’t hurt you,” she promised, and with confidence, because she understood this animal, and it wanted nothing to do with her. It moved across the clearing, still some distance from Aoleyn and the man, and began snuffling at the bushes.