by Andre Norton
There was a great silence and then, even birds and hound were still.
“Weldyn.”
A single word, a name. I saw Yareth start as if a lash had been laid across his shoulders. His head jerked around, his eyes searching.
“Weldyn.” It was Arona who repeated that. “There is a challenge to be given.”
Almost I could hear heavy breathing, as if there were some animal—or man—crouched and waiting.
“By the Great Falcon, Weldyn,” she spoke again, “do you accept challenge? Come forth and try your strength if you are what you think yourself to be.”
“Against a female!” The contempt in that was as great as if it were the foulest of obscenities.
“Against me!” Yareth had leaped to his feet, his eyes still searching. “If I did not see you die, if it were all illusion—Yes, my challenge, Weldyn!”
That laugh again. “Not so, Falconer. Much as you have betrayed your kind, the kin-oath still binds you. Draw steel if you can!”
Yareth's hand did move towards sword hilt. Then I saw it stayed as if some great weight pinned it fast. There was a curdling of the air and from that formed one in Falcon helm and armor while the charnel odor grew stronger.
If Yareth could not move there were no such bonds on me. What stood there now was solid and real. Dark talent can be as great as any power if wielded strongly.
“You have done me well, half-breed.” The bird-surmounted helm turned and whatever lurked behind the eyeholes of that regarded the limp body of the child. “I live and will be about my battle.”
“There was a challenge,” I said. “And I am not bound by any oath, nor am I a woman—”
The head swung towards me with the speed of a striking snake. Eyes which were spots of unholy fire regarded me.
Once more that thing laughed. But it made no move to draw weapon. Instead, with an empty hand, it made a contemptuous gesture—followed by a bolt of fire. Only, that which I had earlier aroused and set on guard found me alert and ready.
It was a battle strange beyond all telling which we fought there. Twice was I very hard pressed and new energy flowed into me which I knew came from Nolar. The Witch took no part in our struggle; her light held steady over Eirran though it did not touch the motionless child whom I believed dead.
My weakened legs shook, I was drained. For the third time Nolar reached me. I saw the lips of that half-masked face form a snarl. Then the whole body of that apparition swung around, away from me, toward Anylse and the child. I knew what this thing which called itself by a dead man's name would do—enter again into that waiting body.
Only there was Arona, her wand held like the sword he would have denied her.
“By your strength, Lady, by your will!” She struck at that snarling face.
There was a jagged burst of darkness. I heard Arona gasp as her wand became flame and she had to hurl it from her. Only at the same time Galerider and Boldwing screamed and took to the air, circling the column of blackness which fell in upon itself and was gone.
Nolar caught at Anylse and clutched at the child, gathering the small form to her breast and running onward through doorway which gave upon the place of the Stone.
The last of the blackness was gone. Whatever had attempted to enter our world through the newborn had vanished from sight. I followed Nolar in time to see her kneel beside the Stone and hold out the unmoving body. The light was clear and bright upon the birthing cloth and its burden. But—if the child had been only a husk to hold that other—its true spirit dead before birth—
There was a cry, a wail. A small fist beat the air. Nolar gave a small cry also and caught that babe close to her. This was all human child. My thought had reached out and touched only that which was normal and right. The Stone of Konnard had completed our struggle and we of the Light had once more won.
Thus ends our Chronicles—each in a manner linked, close or far. And the rolls shall rest until there come those who may be of another kind, yet desirous to know of us who learned to change. It is fair and right that what was once be again known—and credit given to other days.
Duratan of Lormt
Acknowledgments
A very big acknowledgment is due to a very great lady, Andre Norton. Not only did she create this world and allow me to live in it for a while, but she also handed me Alizon as my own little piece of it to develop. Therefore, thank you, Andre. Thank you for everything.
—Sasha Miller
My thanks to Dr. Suzette Haden Elgin, inventor of Laadan, a language created by and for women, for her permission to use this language in “We, the Women.”
Thanks also to Linda Piper for the tale told by Arona to the travelers in Chapter 13, Toads.
—Patricia Mathews
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1994 by Andre Norton, Ltd.
ISBN 978-1-4976-5532-4
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