by Dawn Cook
Talo-Toecan slowly rose. Strell hastily followed suit. “Already?” the Master asked. “I would have thought you would enjoy watching Alissa realize her new position.”
Lodesh arched his eyebrows knowingly, but then quite somberly said, “No, I must return to my city. It’s a long walk.”
“You must walk?” Strell stared at him in astonishment.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Lodesh said ruefully, “Don’t ask. I’m still learning the rules of being a revenant myself. It’s not much different than being alive. I get cold. I must eat. All the drawbacks of life,” he grinned, showing his teeth, “and possibly all of the blessings.”
Talo-Toecan raised a circumspect eyebrow as he assessed this newest bit of information.
“But you showed up so quickly,” the confused man said.
“Ah.” Lodesh wisely set a finger to the side of his nose. “I knew when to leave.”
“His timing has always been impeccable,” Talo-Toecan said. “It’s practically legendary.”
Lodesh’s hand went to his pendent, fingering the worked silver. As he did, he felt his posture droop, and his manner become grave. Feeling like the overburdened Warden of the prosperous and difficult population that he had been, he sighed. Somber and tired, he knew he appeared not only capable, but exceptionally so, despite his apparent youth.
“Bailic is in my city,” he explained. “I don’t like it. He has the First Truth. It’s Alissa’s now, regardless of what you may wish to believe, old friend, and it can be considered a token of Bailic’s authority to act in her stead, to claim due allegiance.”
Talo-Toecan nodded uneasily. He glanced from Alissa to Strell. The piper had turned to the young raku as well, an almost hungry look in his eyes. “If time permits,” Talo-Toecan asked Lodesh pointedly, “I would have a small word with you?”
Lodesh inclined his head graciously, and together they moved a short distance away. Strell took advantage of their absence to examine Alissa closer—now that he wasn’t in danger of being bitten or crushed. He picked a tentative path around her, his hands safely behind his back.
Watching his hesitant inspection, Talo-Toecan scowled. “I would ask a favor of you,” he began.
“Of course.” Lodesh, too, was watching the piper, but his thoughts were of patient understanding, laced with more than a touch of envy.
“You’re wiser than I in the foibles of men,” Talo-Toecan said. “I haven’t studied them as diligently as you.”
Inclining his head again, Lodesh acknowledged the compliment. “It’s my second craft,” he modestly admitted.
“M-m-m.” The old Master arched his shoulders painfully. “Ashes, I’m tired. I haven’t flown like that since Keribdis and I—in some time.”
Lodesh smiled. “Just wait. Tomorrow you will be sore.”
A smile flashed over Talo-Toecan. Then he sighed, his attention going back to Strell. “I’m fairly confident if the piper leaves, this infatuation will fade and free Alissa to find a more suitable match, especially now that she is caught in her raku form. Unfortunately, you may also be correct in that Alissa might abandon her new standing to follow him. Her will is even more obstinate than mine. It may be,” he confessed slowly, “in everyone’s best interests to make an exception of Strell so as to keep a watch upon her.”
“By the light of the Navigator!” Lodesh exclaimed in mock surprise. “Break your rules?”
“Please,” Talo-Toecan said, obviously pained, “if it ever got out—well, there’s no one left to bring me to task, is there.” He paused, his eyes lost in memory. “But before I open my Hold to any not of the Keeper’s persuasion, I must know the makeup of his character.”
Lodesh felt the corners of his mouth quirk. “Talo-Toecan! You take your parental duties seriously.”
“Lodesh,” The Master rebuffed gruffly. “She is my student. I’m only concerned. She’s young, and if you’re correct, her affections may be in danger of being gifted to a man who will live a fraction of her time.”
Lodesh didn’t like this at all. “You wish for me to pry?”
“No. I wish for you to evaluate.” Talo-Toecan turned and watched Strell shudder as he ran his fingers lightly over one of Alissa’s clawed talons. “Talk to him,” he said, his eyes unwavering from Strell as a slight rumble of warning escaped him. “You’re a better judge of the character of men then I am. I’d do it myself, but he is understandably wary of me.”
Lodesh ran a hand behind his neck. “I know already he is worthy of her,” he said shortly.
“Yes, it’s unmistakable,” Talo-Toecan admitted, and Lodesh eased. “I want to know if he can endure the rigors of acting as a Keeper without a functioning set of tracings, without a Keeper’s skills to protect him.” Talo-Toecan’s eyes went distant in recollection. “It’s a rough existence,” he said, “tagging along behind a raku. One is likely to get into the most interesting of scrapes and acquire the oddest of scars and ailments.”
With a nod of understanding, Lodesh looked to Alissa slumbering in the sun. “You’re worried about her losing her temper and accidentally burning him, and you want to know if he has the fortitude to stand up to her regardless, knowing the fatalistic tendencies of such actions?”
“That’s about it.”
“No problem, old friend,” he said. “I will find out if the lad is courageous enough to court your daughter.” Terribly pleased with his jest, he laughed.
“Lodesh,” Talo-Toecan grumbled.
Giving a last guffaw, Lodesh strode across the shattered clearing. “Strell!” he called, his voice ringing with a companionable sound. “Come with me. We have an unfinished task.”
Strell straightened from beside Alissa, his face awash with surprise. “But . . .” He gestured, apparently unwilling to leave.
“These two oversized lizards need their rest,” Lodesh quipped saucily.
“But Alissa—” This time he got a bit further.
“Will be fine,” Lodesh finished. Turning, he asked, “Talo-Toecan, will you catch us up when she wakes?”
“Aye,” he replied heavily. “But it may take a while. She will need to learn how to fly.”
Astonishment flooded Lodesh, and Talo-Toecan laughed. The rich sound of it filled the clearing, seeming to wash away the last ugly remembrances of the afternoon. Even Strell smiled. “Ha!” Talo-Toecan said. “You don’t know everything yet, do you?”
Lodesh scowled, then brightened. “I never claimed that,” he upheld firmly.
Strell picked his way to Lodesh. “She flew,” he said, catching himself as he slipped on a loose stone. “I saw her.”
Placing his long fingertips together, Talo-Toecan took on the air of an instructor. “That was instinctive, as a beast,” he lectured. “With awareness comes a healthy dose of fear. Alissa will have to overcome it. At the very least it will take some time for her to adjust to her new mass-to-size ratio. She will be lighter than she expects as most of her bones are nearly hollow. It may take a while,” he finished regretfully.
Strell winced and asked the inevitable, “How long?”
“I don’t know,” Talo-Toecan said sourly. “I’ve never done this.”
“You have no idea at all?” Strell pressed.
The Master hid his long hands in his sleeves. “It took me—and don’t repeat this, Lodesh, or I will hunt you down and butcher you like a sheep—an entire summer. But I was a stripling, barely big enough to reach—ah—never mind. Needless to say, I wasn’t very coordinated.”
“Talo-Toecan,” Lodesh exclaimed. “You were never young.”
Shooting him an exasperated look, Talo-Toecan continued. “I’m sure Alissa will pick it up quickly. She already has the coordination and strength, and she obviously knows how.” Stretching his back and shoulders painfully, he frowned. “She only needs the confidence.”
“That,” Lodesh asserted, “is something she doesn’t lack,” and Strell grunted his agreement. “So it’s settled then,” Lodesh said loudly, uncon
cerned he might wake Alissa. “Strell will accompany me, and the two winged dreamers will join us at their convenience. Just don’t take too long,” he advised darkly. “We may not leave anything for you.”
“Bailic will be there?” Strell asked, his face grim and determined.
“Yes,” was Lodesh’s soft reply.
“Then I’ll go.”
“I thought you would.”
Strell turned towards Ese’ Nawoer, then back to Alissa. “She’ll be all right?”
In answer, Talo-Toecan shifted to his raku form to stretch and settle in the sun. His tail curled over his nose, the blunt tip of it resting upon one of Alissa’s arms. Even if he slept, which he probably would, he’d know the instant she awoke.
Apparently satisfied, Strell gave Alissa a heartfelt look. She was shimmering and golden as life itself. “Good-bye, my love,” he whispered so quietly as to be unheard by all but Lodesh. “I will see you soon, I hope.” Then with a sharp nod, he turned. Together he and Lodesh headed east. At the edge of the clearing they stopped, and from the shade of the hemlocks they both paused for a last look.
The spring sun pooled warmly, filling the glade with the scents of wet earth and running sap. In sharp contrast were the splintered stumps of trees, their shattered remains littering the once pristine clearing. Rock chips were strewn to look like splotches of dappled sun. The birds had reclaimed the open space already—the presence of the men disturbed them, the rakus didn’t—and their thin, piping voices could be heard, discussing the exciting events of the morning. At the center of it were the rakus themselves, one old, one young, both golden, both asleep, a sight equally unreal and natural seeming.
“No one,” Strell whispered, “will believe me.”
Lodesh smiled. “That’s why such tales are told as stories to amuse children.” He clapped Strell across the shoulders, effectively beginning their journey again. “You really found her at the bottom of a ravine? What, under the open skies, was she doing down there?”
36
Oh, her head, she moaned silently, her eyes clamped shut lest they roll out of their sockets. This monstrosity of existence was unreal. Alissa held her breath, lest even that make it worse. But breathe she must, and ever so slowly, she let it out.
Aw, Hounds, she thought, as now it seemed someone small and without mercy was stabbing glowing needles into the backs of her eyes. She had been right; breathing made it worse. Alissa tremulously looked with her mind’s eye to find all her tracings were clear. The headache was from some unknown cause and would have to disappear on its own. She whimpered at the thought of her unending agony, and to her surprise she heard Useless soft in her thoughts.
“What is it, young one?”
“My head hurts,” she whined into his mind, sounding like a petulant brat even to herself, but her skull felt like it was in a vise, and she couldn’t help it. For a moment she wondered why they were talking wordlessly, but then she guessed Useless must be in his raku guise. She didn’t care. Actually she preferred it that way as she didn’t have to breathe to answer him.
“Here,” Useless thought, and her tracings began to resonate. It was a far-flung, horribly complicated pattern. Alissa stared at it hopelessly, trying to memorize it but not doing very well. Her head hurt that bad. Hoping it was something to make the pain go away, she set up the first circuit to try it.
“You found a resonance?” Useless asked in surprise, then, “No, don’t try it. Used improperly, the ward does more damage than good. Best you wait until I have time to explain.”
His field settled about her, as warm as a puddle of brown, sun-warmed water. The rich sensation swirled and eddied through her, fading to leave a faint tingle where there was once pain. Its absence was a blessing, and as she felt her muscles loosen, she practically melted into the ground. “Ah,” she sighed gratefully into his thoughts. “Thanks, Useless. What was that?”
“That was a ward of healing. Couldn’t you tell?”
“Course,” she mumbled, almost falling asleep again. For what seemed like the first time in months she was comfortable, and content, and warm. But something was nagging at her. She couldn’t set her finger on it, or perhaps she should say, her nose. Simply put, she could smell everything. There was the tacky scent of pine sap, the dry bite of cracked rock, and the bitter taste thawing earth. The breeze sifting over her was cool, carrying the hint of rain tomorrow. She could sense fresh herbs and grasses beginning to green up, and over it all was the unmistakable odor of—carrion.
Talon! she thought, and her eyes flew open. Sure enough, a few paces before her was the mangled, sad little body of a field mouse, its neck newly broken. Alissa cautiously looked for the great hunter herself, being careful to not move for fear of a return of that headache.
She was outside, which was puzzling, although she couldn’t remember why. It was late afternoon; her entire morning was gone. For some reason she was between her instructor’s forearms, because there they were, one nastily clawed hand to the right, one to the left.
That headache must have affected her vision because she was having a terrible time focusing. Anything closer than an arm’s length was a blurry mess. Beyond that it was crystal clear. Colors appeared deeper, more vivid somehow, and it seemed as if there were more of them. The sky beyond the shifting pine boughs wasn’t just blue, it was hundreds of shades of blue, the tints and hues drifting like fog.
Her hearing was off as well. Higher sounds were muted and dull as though heard through a pillow. Lower sounds she couldn’t even recognize were loud and obvious. Alissa blinked in surprise as she realized the muffled melody she was trying to place was a chickadee. “Useless?” she thought. “I had the strangest dream.”
“Do tell,” he prompted silently.
“I dreamed I was a raku. I could see the wind, hear the mountain groan, and smell the rain before it fell.”
“You couldn’t do these things before?”
“Before?” Startled, she sat up with a great rustling of sound. “Useless!” she shrieked. She wasn’t sitting between his arms. Those wicked-looking things were hers. She was a raku!
“Hush, you’re fine, child,” came his reassuring thought. Panic stricken, Alissa turned to see him curled up in the sun watching her, an amused smile in his eyes.
“What! How . . . It wasn’t a dream!” she shrieked aloud, but all that came out was a strangled-sounding gurgle. Embarrassed, she clapped her hands to her—Oh, Ashes! It wasn’t her mouth, it was a snout—and she had nearly put out her eye with an impossibly long, thin finger.
“Speak with your thoughts, Alissa, that’s why the Master of us all gave them to you,” Useless rebuffed. “Your vocal cords are all but—useless.”
In mounting panic, she swiveled her head on what she thought was an absurdly long neck to see what she could. She looked exactly like Useless, wings and all. Well, not entirely. She was smaller, a great deal thinner, smoother of skin, or hide rather, and her tail . . . Oh! How terrible, she thought. It was twice as long as his, tapering endlessly down to nothing instead of the blunted end he had. “Useless!” she wailed. “What did you do to me?”
“Me?” he said around a yawn. “I did nothing. You are what you see.”
“But—what happened?” Alissa looked over her shoulderand tentatively shifted her wings, needing to reassure herself they would respond.
Useless pillowed his head on his folded arms and appeared to go to sleep. “What do you remember?”
“I remember—the dirt under my nails,” she mused, bringing them close to her eyes, then pulling them away as they got fuzzy. There was a film of red under them that smelled of blood, and she winced at how long and savage they looked. “And the scent of mint.”
“That’s all?” Useless prodded, opening one eye.
She thought back. Her breath caught. “Strell fell asleep, and I didn’t notice!” she shouted. “Where is he?”
“He’s with Lodesh. We will join them shortly.”
Alissa relax
ed. If he was with Lodesh, he would be all right. Then she realized—Strell was with Lodesh—and she became worried. As she gazed about, she became more so.
They were situated in a tiny clearing. In the nearby distance, the Hold’s tower stood above the trees, that is, above the trees that weren’t demolished. Their shattered leavings were everywhere. It looked like a violent summer storm had gone through. What, by the Navigator’s Wolves, had happened?
And with a sudden implosion of memory, she remembered. Reeling from the shock, Alissa put out what was once her hand. Useless rose to steady her as if he had expected it. “I read my book of First Truth,” she mumbled soundlessly.
“Yes, your book.” Useless heaved a sigh.
“And I changed my mass to energy and back again,” Alissa said.
“That you did, young one.”
“And I flew . . .” Her eyes alight, she gazed hungrily up at the skies.
“And,” prompted Useless.
“You brought me down,” she accused.
Useless said nothing as he released her shoulder. Alissa stumbled as she caught her balance. “You three pinned me down!” it was almost a shout, “and made me remember!”
“What of it—student?” was his cold reply.
“You had no right! I was happy. I was free.”
“Are you unhappy now?” Useless asked. “Are there chains on your wings?”
“No.” Sitting back on her—she guessed they were her haunches—Alissa stared sullenly up at the sky. But it was hard to stay angry while watching the shifting streams of air. They were so inviting, it made her want to leap up and ride them again, just for the sheer enjoyment.
“Please,” Alissa heard plaintively in her thoughts. “You promised we would fly. . . .”
Alissa shook her head with a snort. Useless eyed her closely, but it wasn’t he who had spoken. It was her, but a part of her she hadn’t known existed, buried and hidden under a lifetime of civilization and society. “Who are you?” Alissa whispered into her darkest thoughts. Talking to yourself isn’t insane, unless you find something answering back.
“You forgot already? I’m your beast,” came a soft answer, and Alissa stiffened in a wave of panic. Wolves! It was real! She had gone mad! “Don’t tell,” the thought frantically warned, “or the old one will make you destroy me, and you—you promised you wouldn’t? Remember?”
