by Maggie Furey
They had passed Athina’s lake before Corisand discovered that she had something far more pressing to worry about. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the pace she had set. She was slowing down; finding it harder and harder to keep moving through the air. Her body felt heavy and sluggish, and when she looked down she saw with a flash of alarm that the treetops were growing appreciably closer.
She was sinking. The flying spell was wearing off.
Then suddenly, Hellorin was gone. Iriana had won. Corisand felt it; felt the chains of his spell that had enslaved her people fall away at last. Since Tiolani was dead too, there was no one left to enforce the magic. The Xandim tribe behind her faltered as the Forest Lord’s iron grip was loosed from them, sensing that something profound had taken place but not knowing what, or why.
Right then, the Windeye had no time for celebration. Her own flying spell was still decaying fast, and it was imperative that she get her people out of the sky – and soon. Frantically, she looked down for a safe place to land the herd. She had a vague recollection that, while on the Wild Hunt as Hellorin’s mount, she had seen a cleared space somewhere in this area; an ugly scar across the face of the forest where the trees and vegetation had been consumed by a wildfire, probably from a lightning strike. It couldn’t be far away, and it was easily visible from the air.
Yes, after a few minutes she spotted it in the distance, off to the right; a long, black smear across the green of the forest. With a sigh of relief, she altered course, hoping that they could get there before the magic wore off entirely.
The fire must have roared unchecked through these woods for some time before finally being put out by rain, and the Windeye hated to think of all the destruction that had been caused, and the pain and terror of the poor woodland creatures who had dwelt there. Nonetheless, the location was easily visible from the air and had sufficient space to land the entire tribe. Corisand called back to them with a ringing whinny and led them down, for she was out of choices. Behind her, the glimmer of the flying spell was growing so dim that she could barely see the Xandim against the night sky. By the time they reached the edge of the great scar, they were practically brushing the treetops.
It was a risky landing. The devastated area contained so many traps and hazards in the form of blackened snags and stumps, and the charred remains of many forest giants that had come crashing down in flames. Though the fire must have happened some time ago, there was still, to the equine sense of smell, the faint acrid stink of burning vegetation and flesh.
The herd were uneasy; away from their familiar territory, out of their routine, and flying for the first time without riders to control and guide them. They had never known freedom before, and they were finding their first experiences of liberty alarming and strange. Only the power of the Windeye was keeping them grouped together, and Corisand hoped desperately that it would be enough. As long as they stayed together they had a chance to protect themselves from predators, but any who started to stray could be picked off one by one.
Though there had been a few stumbles and a number of scratches and scrapes, everyone had managed to reach the ground without breaking a limb – which was what the Windeye had been dreading. As it was, the smell of blood in the air from the various minor injuries stood a fair chance of attracting any local predators, and the Xandim could not flee over such treacherous, rough terrain. Since she could do nothing about it, however, she decided that there was no point in worrying.
As things stood, there was more than enough to concern her. Corisand was in a dreadful quandary. Would she be able to switch back to her human form without the Fialan? If she did succeed, could she then change back to a horse if the need arose? As a human, it would be difficult to hold the herd together, yet if anyone came along – for she was in the lands of the Wizards now and not sure how far she was from Nexis – she would need a human guise in order to communicate with them and explain that these animals were truly free beings, and not mere beasts to be captured and used.
For the present, at least, the Xandim were easy enough to handle. There was a small amount of regrowth, especially near the edge of the burn, where seeds had drifted from the unscathed areas of forest, and a scattering of grass blades were struggling to force their way through the ashy soil. There were drifts of fireweed with their long stems, their spikes of purple flowers and their long, pointed leaves that had a slightly bitter but refreshing flavour. The herd, weary from all their terrifying experiences earlier in the night, followed by a wild race across the midnight sky, fell to foraging, with the hungry foals being suckled by the grazing mares, and the stallions taking up their up their natural guard positions around the perimeter, but taking time to snatch a quick mouthful every now and then.
Corisand, her equine instincts strong while she was wearing this form, would have liked nothing better than to join them, but alas, as the Windeye, such luxuries were forbidden. She had finally decided that it was vital that she transform to her human aspect while some shreds of the Fialan’s power remained, for that would make her own powers as Windeye available, and also she needed to make some kind of signal so that Iriana and the others could find her when they returned – if they returned.
I hope they’re safe!
There was nothing she could do to help them, however, so she must concentrate on taking care of her own. If her companions hadn’t found her by daylight, it was unlikely that they would be coming back, and she would be forced to take the herd on foot through the forest until she reached the settlement of Nexis. Once there, she would explain matters somehow, and throw herself and the Xandim upon the mercy of the Wizards. They were Hellorin’s enemies – surely they would be willing to help some of his victims?
Suddenly, as she thought of Hellorin, she realised with a burst of joy that he was truly dead, and she and the Xandim no longer needed the Fialan to change shape. His evil spell was finally broken, and her people were truly free.
As she didn’t want to panic the tribe, the Windeye thought of drifting quietly away into the trees at the forest’s edge to make the change into her other shape, then decided against it. If they actually saw her undergo the transformation, they would at least recognise her, and that might make it easier for them to accept her authority.
If only equine communication wasn’t so limited! Life would be so much easier if Corisand could only explain everything to them. She remembered what a shock it had been, the first time she’d gone to the Elsewhere and found herself trying to balance unsteadily on two legs instead of four. How the entire Xandim race would cope when it finally happened to them, she couldn’t imagine – but she had a feeling that it was time to find out. She would have preferred to wait until she’d brought her tribe to a place that was sheltered, safe and secure, but it had to be now. Even though they would begin their alternative existences cold, hungry, naked and defenceless, she needed them to start remembering their heritage, and using their human minds once more.
She would start with herself. Corisand made the change right in the middle of the herd. The Xandim lifted their heads, tossing their manes, snorting uneasily and backing away, yet the power of the Windeye still held them together – at least for now. After a time they settled back to their grazing, but Corisand knew they were all covertly watching her, unsure whether she was one of their own, or some unknown threat. Her heart beating fast, she raised her arms and sent her power flowing among them like a gentle breeze, easing them through the change – and suddenly where the beautiful Xandim horses had grazed, she had a group of people in front of her, crying out in shock and dismay, overbalancing and sprawling on the ground and knocking one another over. She could see them desperately trying to cope with balancing on two legs instead of four, and the change to a whole new type of vision, with eyes set in the front of their heads instead of the sides.
While they were still overwhelmed by alien emotions and a foreign way of thought, while they were still confused, and groping to express themselves, as they
had never done before, in a spoken language that had been long locked away in their unconscious memories, she addressed them.
‘Don’t be afraid, my friends and herdmates. Tonight, at long last, the Xandim have come back into their heritage. I can see that the memories of who and what we were before the Phaerie enslaved us are beginning to return to you, as they returned to me when I first became Windeye. Before Hellorin’s spell chained us within our equine forms we were able to change from one shape to the other at will.’
She smiled. ‘You’ll still be free to live as you have always lived, if that is your wish; to roll in the summer grass, or race the wind, but this time it will be your choice – there will be no masters to compel or constrain you. We have a new home promised us, far to the south in a fair and fertile land. We must rediscover our true identity and find a way of life that suits us, but we will have friends of other races who will help us. We will not be alone. Now you are cold, bewildered and anxious, but I’ll take care of you.’ She used her magic to send a warm breeze circulating through the group, so that their shivering ceased.
‘For now, please take a little time to find your balance – both on your feet and in your minds. Find your companions and herdmates, and see what each other looks like in their human form. After a while, I’m sure you’ll have thought of many questions, and I’ll answer them as best I can.’
Though she had tried to comfort and reassure them, Corisand could still feel their nervousness and disorientation, and felt dreadfully disappointed. She had worked so hard and gone through so much to free her people: she had expected them to be delighted – or to thank her at the very least. Then suddenly she remembered what a shock it had been to discover her alternate form – and as Windeye, she’d had the advantage of knowing that possibility existed. She looked at the Xandim – really looked.
As she’d suggested they were searching out former companions and haltingly trying to speak to one another. One little filly, now a freshly blooming young girl, burst out laughing at something – and broke off sharply with a strangled squeak of fear at the alien sound that had come out of her mouth, while all the others turned to stare at her. Corisand knew that if they had still been in their equine form, their ears would have been laid back, and their eyes rolling anxiously with the white rims showing.
Suddenly it came home to the Windeye just how many difficulties lay ahead of her people. Even though Basileus had given them a home, they would have to learn to build shelters, to make clothing, utensils and weapons, to hunt or cultivate their food. She looked with dismay at all the pale, naked bodies stumbling around at the edge of the trees. Somehow she found that she could identify her former herdmates, even though their appearances were so different. She saw dark hair, blond and red; faces and bodies showing variations of tautness, sagging, musculature or wrinkles, according to the ages and health of their owners.
I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing them back. They looked much more beautiful as horses.
Her wry amusement at the thought was enough to cheer her a little. Everything would sort itself out in the fullness of time, she decided. And after all, the Xandim didn’t have to stay in these forms. They could change back at any time. Corisand had simply opened up the choice for them.
Taking a deep breath, she addressed her people once more. ‘It’s up to you, of course – you’re slaves no longer – but you might be more comfortable in the forms that you’re used to, for the present,’ she suggested. ‘We can work on the human side of things once we’re safe and secure. I simply wanted you to experience the choices that lie open to you now, and I hope that even when you transfer back to your equine aspects, your intellect, now that it has been triggered with the removal of Hellorin’s spell, will stay with you.’
‘So what happens next?’ someone called out.
‘Right now, we’re waiting for my companions to get here from Eliorand. As soon as they join us, we’re going back to the lands of the Wizards, to ask their help while we discover our true identities once more, and find our new place to live. In the meantime, what do you say to changing back? You’ll be warmer and less vulnerable, and there’s food here for a horse that a human wouldn’t be able to eat.’
‘I’m all for that – but how do we change back?’ another voice asked.
Corisand tried to put into words what she knew instinctively. ‘Just think of yourselves as you were before. You’ll find that the image is locked into your mind – it’s part of what we are. Then imagine yourselves flowing into that shape.’
Oddly enough, it was the older Xandim who found it easier to make the transformation. Corisand had been half-expecting the younger ones, filled with curiosity and expectation, to be more flexible in their thinking, but when it came to recovering their former appearance, the older members of the tribe had worn that equine form for a long time. Reverting to it now came instinctively to them. The Windeye had a feeling, however, that when they became human again, the opposite would be true and the younger ones would shine. Unable to resist the experiment (and surely it was important that they had a little practice in switching back and forth) she called out to them.
‘Now, can you please change back into your human aspects, just for a moment? I want to make sure you can move easily from one to the other. Just think of yourselves as you were a moment ago, on two legs and with your eyes pointing forward. Your instincts should do the rest.’
I hope.
It took them longer this time, and Corisand had been right: in general, the younger Xandim managed more easily. But she had found out what she wanted to know. They could transform at will now, without her help. The ability came as naturally as breathing.
‘Now what?’ an impatient voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see a short, stocky, brown-haired man whom she recognised as Alil, who had formerly been Kelon’s horse. ‘Well?’ he asked again. ‘What do you want, Windeye? Back and forth, back and forth – make up your mind.’
He was joined by a chorus of mutters and objections from the others, and Corisand couldn’t help but smile. ‘See?’ she said. ‘Your human characters are asserting themselves very quickly – you’re already learning how to complain.’ A scattering of laughter met her words, though she could feel their discomfort at the unfamiliar sound and emotion. ‘I’m sorry I had to pester you again. I wanted to be sure that that you could all make the change without my help, for the time will come when you’ll need to. I’ll leave you in peace now, to change back if you wish, and eat and rest. Let’s make the most of this brief respite until my companions come, for then we must be on our way once more.’
Leaving them to it, she turned away, looking forward at last to assuaging her own hunger and weariness. The basket containing Melik, which had been strapped to her back, had fallen to the ground when Corisand changed shape, and Iriana’s cat was wailing his protests from within. She didn’t dare let him out when the Wizard and Dael weren’t there, so all she could do was pray that they would come soon. Like all her companions, she had been carrying a small bag of trail rations, so she pushed a piece of dried meat through one of the air holes in the basket and hoped that the food would help to calm and quiet him until his rightful owner turned up.
After the battles of that night she was as weary and hungry as the rest of the Xandim, but before she could rest there was one more thing she must do. Summoning her Othersight, she tugged and twisted the silvery air currents, shaping them with her hands and mind until they formed the image of a horse. Lifting her arms she sent it upwards, high above the treetops, to mark her location to her friends. By now the flying spell would also have worn off for Iriana and her companions, so it was vital to have a beacon that could be seen from ground level.
Once she had her image in place, she finally sat down on the ground at the edge of the burn, leant back against a tree trunk and rested her weary limbs. Rummaging in her pouch she found some jerky, a hard and rather elderly piece of cheese and a handful of nuts, and fell on them like a s
tarving wolf. She was desperate for some sleep, but didn’t dare close her eyes while the responsibility for the entire tribe was in her hands. Besides, until she’d found out the fate of her companions, she couldn’t settle.
If only I could get to Iriana so that she could give me back the Fialan. I won’t rest until we’re safely back with the Wizards.
Though Corisand hated not being able to fly, she told herself that she had better get used to it. Once the Xandim had been liberated she had promised to give the Stone of Fate to Iriana. She dropped her head into her hands and sighed. No more soaring above those plodding people confined to the ground. No more flying among the stars and racing the wind.
Freedom came with a heavy price. She only hoped that when the time came, she would be able to pay it.
Suddenly she realised that she was not alone, and found a man sitting beside her. His hair, dark with the odd gleam of silver, swept back from his face and down to his shoulders. His chin was square, his cheekbones high and chiselled, and his grey eyes held an intensity and power that immediately made her think of a herd leader. Though he was human now, she recognised him as Aelwen’s former mount, the black stallion Taryn.
When he spoke, it was almost as if he had been sharing her thoughts. ‘It’s not going to be easy, is it, Windeye?’
‘No,’ she answered him honestly. ‘I thought that freeing everyone would be the hardest part, but now all manner of difficulties lie ahead of us – though at least we have a home ready and waiting for us.’
‘We do?’
‘We do, and it’s a lovely place – at least so I was told by the one who gave it to us. Sometime I’ll tell you the whole story, but it’s far too long and complicated a tale for now. But you’re right. We have a daunting task ahead, and so much to learn about surviving in our alternate forms.’
