by Dawn Cook
“No,” Redal-Stan snapped. “That’s Connen-Neute. Talo-Toecan is still in the mountains. Our time is up, Alissa. If he truly doesn’t know you, something is going to break.”
She turned to Lodesh, standing silently. His carefully chosen words still resonated in her thoughts, pulling at her, confusing her. Her mirth flower rested in her hands, a secret still. “I-I,” she stammered, not knowing what to say.
“Listen . . .” Beast whispered, and Alissa clenched in sudden heartache.
“Lodesh!” she cried, feeling herself go unreal. “Listen! It’s Strell!”
Redal-Stan’s eyes went wide in surprise.
“Can you hear him?” Squinting from a gust of wind, she turned to Connen-Neute as the raku landed beside them. “That’s Strell’s playing. Can’t you hear it?”
Not shifting, Connen-Neute nodded his great head, his golden eyes glowing in the dusk.
“I don’t hear anything,” Redal-Stan said.
“Alissa?” It was as faint as the brush of a moth. “Wolves. Alissa? Can you hear me?”
“Strell!” she shrieked, and the faint touch wavered. Immediately she took three quick breaths and slipped into a mild trance. The smell of mirth wood blossomed about her, and she felt Lodesh’s steadying hand. “Yes!” she sobbed. “I hear you, Strell.”
“Is Connen-Neute with you,” he said urgently, “and Lodesh?”
Her eyes cleared long enough to see three anxious faces peering at her. “Yes.”
She felt Strell heave a ragged sigh. “Don’t let them go anywhere. I know how to get you home. You’re in the field, yes? By . . .”
“ . . . the stream,” she finished aloud, their thoughts mingling freely.
“Then shift, Alissa! By all that is sacred, set your tracings for tripping the lines, and shift!”
Wild with emotion, she did. The lines glowed, and she disappeared in a swirl of nothing. Alissa fashioned mass about herself, breathless in hope. She winked into existence, her point of view having shifted higher but her situation not changing. It hadn’t worked.
“Connen-Neute!” Redal-Stan shouted. “She’s going feral!”
“No, she isn’t,” came the young raku’s bemused thought. “Hear her piper’s music?”
Lodesh backed up in wonder. “Alissa?” he breathed. “You’re a—Master?”
“It didn’t work!” she wailed, stretching her neck to the sky.
“It didn’t work, Lodesh,” she heard Strell snarl. He was speaking aloud, but they were linked so tightly, the echo of his voice rang through her thoughts. “Tell me what she did wrong, or I swear I’ll hit you again! I’ll hurt you so badly, you’ll wish you could die.”
Lodesh? Alissa thought. Her head swiveled to see him. His eyes were wide in shock, but he obviously hadn’t heard Strell. “Lodesh is with you, Strell?” she asked.
“Wolves,” Redal-Stan cursed, looking to the east. “It’s Talo-Toecan. Get her hidden, Connen-Neute. I’ll try to divert him.” In a swirl of gray and black, he shifted and flew.
Connen-Neute was frozen where he was crouched, his vacant stare telling Alissa he, too, was in a slight trance, straining to hear Strell’s music if it should start again.
“Strell,” she pleaded, beginning to cry. “It didn’t work.”
“She’s crying, Warden,” Strell said to the Lodesh beside him. “Can you hear her? Why are you doing this to her? She wants to come home! Tell me how!”
Alissa gasped as Lodesh’s awareness melted into hers. “It’s not right!” came his thought, ripping through her, stunning in its depth of misery. She looked down through her tears. The Lodesh at her feet was confused, not torn with grief. It had been the Lodesh from her home.
“It’s not right,” he cried again. “I shouldn’t have to live through this a second time. Wasn’t the first penance enough?”
“Then tell me!” Strell shouted.
Low and beaten, Lodesh’s thoughts drifted into hers. “She should follow your thoughts back,” he whispered.
Alissa felt Lodesh shudder, both of them. The Lodesh at her feet sat down hard, holding his head, his present and future thoughts mingling in a confusion of paradox.
“You understand, Strell?” came Lodesh’s thought, and the Lodesh at her feet moved his lips in tandem with the words. “She is to follow your thoughts in place of a memory. Oh, Wolves,” he moaned. “Why did I do this? Don’t do this again,” he said. “You hear me, Warden? Don’t do this again to her!”
“Strell. I don’t understand!” Alissa exclaimed.
Alissa heard Lodesh groan in mental agony. “Tell her to shift again,” he said. “Tell her to set her neural net to trip the lines using your thoughts in place of a memory.” He paused. “And tell her I’m sorry,” he whispered, “that I never meant for this to happen.”
“That’s it?” She stirred in excitement.
“Do it, Alissa,” Strell said fervently. “Now!”
And Strell gave her a memory of a time she hadn’t lived. Thoughts of a cold, black evening, dark clouds pushed by an angry east wind against a washed-out sky, and an empty city, bare of life. Her eyes rose, seeing it over the golden field.
Connen-Neute was there, and Lodesh. Their presence existed in both times. And Strell’s music dipped and swooped, pulling her back, filling her senses, taking her home.
And so she shifted. “Don’t forget your clothes,” Beast admonished, and Alissa thought she heard a chuckle from Connen-Neute as she swirled back into reality, sorry she hadn’t had time for a final good-bye.
Alissa clutched her arms about her in a new darkness as she opened her eyes, wondering if it had truly worked. The black shadow of Connen-Neute was crouched nearby, a feral beast lulled into a passive state by Strell’s music. Lodesh stood beside him. His clothes were torn and his face bruised. He stood stock-still, anguished and stoic. To her left, his eyes closed, playing his pipe was . . .
“Strell!” she shrieked, flinging herself at him. His eyes flew open. They met in a crushing embrace. She was picked up, swung about in a dizzying swirl, and plunked down hard enough to rattle her teeth. She didn’t care. Her head was buried in his shoulder, arms about his neck, exulting in the smell of hot sand that clung to him.
“I tried and tried to get back,” she heard herself stutter into his shirt. It was damp. One of them was crying. “Redal-Stan said I couldn’t, but I knew I could,” she babbled. “And then I heard your music, and—”
“Oh, do shut up,” Strell said, and before she knew his intent, he kissed her.
Softer than she expected, his lips met hers, then stronger, pulling a warmth from deep within. Heart pounding, she leaned into him, not wanting it to end. Strell stiffened as he sensed her willingness, as if only now realizing what he was doing. She opened her eyes to see his wide, alarmed stare. Reddening, Strell pulled away but didn’t let go.
Alissa blinked as the warmth from his touch seemed to grow, settling to a steady burn.
“He wants to ground you!” Beast hissed, and Alissa mollified her with a bemused thought.
“Hounds,” Strell turned even more embarrassed. “I missed you.” His eyes pleaded softly. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
Alissa said nothing. Her eyes filled, and she leaned back into him, hiding her smile. Ignoring Beast’s outrage, she exerted a slow, tentatively increasing pressure to pull his face back down to hers.
“Ow!” he yelped, then cursed quietly as she let go and backed up to eye him sharply. Her light winked into existence.
“You’re hurt,” she said in the stark brightness her light made. Her hand went out to run a finger under a swollen eye, and Strell winced. Only now with her light did she see his dirt-stained clothes and the bruises. Alissa reached to pluck a stem of grass from his hair. His hand rose to stop hers. It was bleeding from a skinned knuckle. “Let me fix it?” she asked plaintively.
“No,” Strell said grimly. “I don’t deserve it. I’ll wear my bruises until I heal myself.”
Fro
wning, Alissa took another step back. He and Lodesh had been arguing just before she returned. Her gaze darted to the clearing, empty of all but the feral relic of Connen-Neute. “Where’s Lodesh?” she asked. “You were fighting, weren’t you!”
Strell’s eyes went hard. “He wouldn’t tell me how to get you home.” He rubbed his hand and straightened his shoulders, a trace of pride and satisfaction seemed to cross him. Then seeing she was upset, he leaned forward, pleading. “Don’t be angry. I love you, Alissa. And I would have done far worse than hit him if I had needed to.”
Her eyes went wide, and quite abruptly her animosity shifted to something more enduring. “Hounds,” she whispered. “I missed you.”
Strell slumped. “Me, too.” His arms went about to gather her in, when a familiar, much too loud, mental shout nearly split her skull.
“Alissa!”
“Ouch,” she said, putting a hand to her head. That bruise still hurt. Pulling away slightly from Strell, she turned to see the gray shadow of Talo-Toecan streak low over the dark field from the east. He braked in a violent backwash of air that laid the grass flat. “Useless!” she shouted, covering her face from the eye-smarting upwelling of grass and dirt.
He shifted before he was even on the ground. Talon was with him, and she landed on Alissa’s shoulder, chittering wildly, her eyes whirling.
“Useless! I did it!”
“Useless?” came a confused whisper of thought.
“I really did it!” she shouted, nearly in tears as Useless took her in a fatherly hug smelling of wind and rain. Pushed from her shoulder, Talon hovered over them, squawking.
“So you did,” her teacher whispered fiercely. “So you did.” Smiling, he put her at arm’s length, his gaze running from her head to her stocking feet. “Thank you, Strell,” he said, never looking from her.
Alissa felt Strell grin, proud and pleased, and she turned to see him flushing.
“You,” Useless gave her a stern shake, “are more adept at the impossible than even my teacher.” Talon shifted herself between Strell and Alissa as if unable to decide who deserved her presence more.
“Um, Talo-Toecan?” came a gray thought. “What happened? You don’t look good.”
Alissa’s mouth fell open. So did Useless’s. Together they turned to the feral beast. The monster sneezed with a huge spasm. “Careful,” Strell warned, seeing the direction of their gaze. “He’s gotten used to voices, even loud ones, but he’s still feral despite his tame looks.
“Tame!” The grass was laid flat by a sweeping tail. “I don’t know how you got here, little man, but I’ll teach you the meaning of tame!”
“Connen-Neute?” Useless breathed, having turned three shades whiter.
The beast vanished in a swirling mist of pearly white. Connen-Neute winked back into existence not looking a day older than when she had last seen him.
With a small sigh, Useless collapsed. Talon started screaming, nearly falling off Strell’s shoulder. “Useless!” Alissa gasped, reaching too late for him. “Oh, Hounds, Useless?” On her knees, she gently patted his cheeks. He was out cold. Above her on the rock, Talon squeaked and jumped up and down, ignored as Alissa pulled Useless into a more natural position. Strell bent to help as Connen-Neute stepped forward looking tall and foreboding. Talon continued to scream, hopping on the flat rock as if she had gone insane.
“You’re Strell?”
Hearing the danger in his gray voice, Strell rose along with Alissa’s gaze. Oh, for Bone and Ash, she thought. Strell had called him tame. With a last look at Useless, Alissa stood. She had no idea how Connen-Neute had gotten here but had little patience for tender Master sensitivities right now. Lips pursed, she stepped between an angry Connen-Neute and a wide-eyed, white-faced Strell.
“Strell.” She cleared her throat loudly. “This is Connen-Neute, a student Master of the Hold who comes before me.”
Connen-Neute stopped short, his anger taking pause. Obviously he had never been introduced with such formality. He was the baby of the Hold, a hundred sixteen years old or not.
“Connen-Neute?” Alissa said into the new silence as Talon finally shut up. “This is Strell Hirdune, the last son of a great house of artisans.” She bent close and whispered loudly, “He took you for a feral beast his music has charmed in the past.” Alissa smiled. “You understand?”
The Master cautiously nodded.
“Could you please make me a paper cup?” she asked him. She could have made her own but this would be a subtle show of feminine dominance. She wouldn’t have them fighting like ill-raised children. A bright yellow cone filled her hand, and she gave it to Strell. His eyebrows rose. “Water?” she said, looking at the nearby spring. “For Useless?”
Strell nodded and stepped to the spring. Talon was silently watching her, and upon seeing Alissa’s eyes on her, she twittered and hopped to Alissa’s shoulder. Alissa’s eyes prickled as her fingers caressed Talon’s silky feathers. She had missed Talon more than she realized. A sharp pinch on her ear, and Alissa began to change her mind.
Connen-Neute offered his hand to help Strell up from the spring. “It’s a pleasure to meet the man who has captured the heart of so strong a flyer,” he murmured.
“Uh, thanks.” The two clasped hands, and Strell rose. “Likewise, I’m sure.” He hesitated, awkwardly. “Sorry about that feral business.”
Connen-Neute nodded. “Are you a sibling of Sarken Hirdune, joined to Marga Stryska?”
Strell’s eyes widened.
Having exhausted an entire day’s worth of words in a matter of moments, Connen-Neute simply smiled. The two returned, and the tension Alissa hadn’t known she had, eased. “Thanks, Strell.” She accepted the squishy cup, and sprinkled a few drops on Useless to no effect. Strell rocked back-and-forth on his heels, struggling to find something to say. Her light on the grass illuminated everything in a soft, white glow.
Connen-Neute sank into a crouch beside her, frowning as he took in Useless’s lined features. “I thought the idea was to send you back to your piper.” He warily eyed Talon on her shoulder. “Not bring your piper to you. What will he do when he realizes what’s happened?”
Feeling a flush of worry, Alissa arranged the hem of Useless’s vest. “I—uh—didn’t shift Strell,” she said slowly. “I shifted me.”
“But—” Connen-Neute stiffened.
Alissa sat back on her heels. “Look around. The city is empty. It’s colder than the Hold’s annexes.” She shrugged apologetically. “The clouds are thick, covering the setting sun. It was clear a moment ago. I think somehow your sentience was pulled back with me to slip into your feral skin.” She smiled weakly up at his pasty face. “Sorry.”
Connen-Neute scrambled to his feet, searching for the absent plumes of smoke from a thousand hearth fires. “The horses,” he breathed. “There are no horses.” He turned to her, his face drained of color. “But . . . how . . .” His eyes rolled back and he tipped forward.
“Look out, Alissa!” Strell yanked her out of the way as Connen-Neute came crashing down face first onto the cold ground. Together she and Strell tumbled into an awkward pile, coming to a rest with his arms safely about her. “These Masters don’t handle surprises very well, do they,” Strell said, his words a soft breath in her ear.
Alissa’s breath caught, and she turned to him. “Uh-uh,” she agreed. It was warmer on the ground in the lee of the stone, and she wasn’t going to move for anything.
“You all right?” He smiled, not loosening his grip.
“Uh-huh.” She grinned. Her eyes went to Talon, expecting the usual noise and bad temper the bird showed whenever anyone got close to her. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t glaring but was standing stiffly with her feathers raised, turned halfway about as if she didn’t want to see but was afraid to ignore them. Strell’s gaze followed Alissa’s. Never taking his eyes from the small bird, he slowly leaned closer as if to steal another kiss. They both watched as he shifted closer . . . and closer . . .
> “Awak!” Sharp eyes and a wicked beak turned to them.
Strell eased back with a forlorn expression. “I guess that’s my new limit, now, eh?”
“Yeah,” she agreed sourly. Stupid bird. She never seemed to get a moment alone with anyone. Someone always interrupted. If it wasn’t Talon, it was Useless, or Redal-Stan, or . . .
Her face pinched in worry as she turned to Strell. “Where’s Lodesh?”
45
“Stop, Alissa. I’m all right.” A long-fingered hand rose to envelop hers. “It’s a scratch.”
Alissa leaned back on her heels, her lips pursed disapprovingly at her instructor. “Quit fussing,” she complained. “If you would just let me see, I’d go away and leave you alone.”
His eyes widened. “Don’t ever do that. Stay right were you are.”
Smiling, she leaned forward again. This time he held still as she parted his short, white hair to find that, yes, the scratch was too small to worry about. Satisfied, she set her light down and tugged the blanket he had made for her closer. It was cold in the field. They hadn’t bothered with a fire as they would be leaving as soon as Connen-Neute finished his “nap.”
“So,” Useless’s white eyebrows jumped in delight. “You were Redal-Stan’s mysterious Squirrel.” His expression soured. “I should have guessed by the trouble he said you were.”
Alissa nodded, terribly pleased.
“I’d be willing to wager you were the one who slipped the warming ward to the Keepers.”
Her face fell. “No one told me to keep it a secret,” she said, and he grinned.
There was a rustle as Strell straightened from his crouch over Connen-Neute. “He’s coming around,” he said, backing up so Alissa could take his place.
Connen-Neute’s golden eyes focused on her. “Alissa,” he thought. “I had the oddest dream.”
From her shoulder came Talon’s chitter, sounding like laughter. Connen-Neute’s eyes widened, and he sat up in a rush. White-faced, he looked at Useless, then Strell. He fell back with a soft thump. “No dream,” he moaned aloud.
Useless extended a hand to help Connen-Neute back to a sitting position.
