“How long?”
Rygel squinted briefly at the sun high overhead. “If we’re not back by dawn, come looking for us.” He pointed back toward the escarpment high in the distance. “Head that way. I hate to try the escarpment, since I know he’ll be hurt, but we might find an easier way down. Then we will have to hide here for a while.”
“Why hide?” I asked. “We should just start riding for Kel’Halla immediately.”
With more patience I would have accorded him previously, Rygel spoke quietly. “Princess, we have no clue what condition Wolf is in. He may be whole and healthy, he may only be slightly wounded, though I highly doubt it. Even if he is not, you and I are on the verge of exhaustion. Getting him away from the Tongu will be a miracle in itself, and none of us will have the strength to ride a mile much less all the long leagues to Kel’Halla.”
Shame flooded my cheeks. “You’re right, my lord. Sorry.”
“Give me a moment,” he said, rubbing his brow with long fingers, frowning slightly. “If I’m to have the power to change both of us into hawks, I’ll need to run through a spell to expel my fatigue. It will give me strength enough for what we have to do, but draws from areas of my body that shouldn’t be giving up strength.”
“My lord, is that wise?”
He smiled ruefully. “Nay, it certainly isn’t. I’ll be paying for it dearly later.”
He closed his eyes, Kel’Ratan and I exchanging concerned glances. My warriors ringed themselves around us, both as protection and curiosity. To see their Princess turned into a bird could be a tale worth telling and retelling, and none wanted to miss it. Even Bar stood just behind Alun, peering down over the tall warrior’s head, his eyes bright with interest.
At length, Rygel took a deep breath and dropped his hand from his brow. To me, his eyes appeared brighter, his skin less haggard and pale. New energy filled him and I could easily see his former impatience growing steadily.
“Ready, then, Princess?” he asked.
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. “What do I do?”
“Naught at all. Just listen to me and try not to be afraid.”
Try not to be afraid? What the bloody hell did he mean by that? Within a few moments, magic would change me from a human to a bird of prey and I was not supposed to be afraid? I swallowed hard, hearing a dry click in my throat. Ever the warrior, I let none of my anxiety show, and waited while Rygel gestured for Kel’Ratan and my boys to step back.
“She will need room,” he said tersely.
“Room—” I began, but had time for naught else.
Instantly I felt a bolt like lightning from a clear sky hit me. Rygel’s earlier healing magic felt fiery hot, embers tossed onto kindling. This felt cold, ice chilling my very bones as something in me changed. I tried to scream as my body collapsed in on itself, running, molding, melting like wax under the flame. Before my eyes, Rygel and Kel’Ratan grew tall, huge, as big as giants from the ancient legends. Nay, I shrunk, the blades of tall grass sweeping over me, surrounding, hemming me in. I struggled to keep my balance on feet that suddenly felt too small to hold me, feet that were no longer feet. I tried to break my fall with my hands, pinwheeling for balance. My arms failed to catch me as I flopped in the dust and grass. Dimly I heard shouts, saw human boots and legs near my head, but the panic held me in its merciless grip. I screamed.
What came from my mouth was not a scream, but a shrill screech. My arms flapped, feathers flinging dirt everywhere. Feathers? Wings, not arms. Pinfeathers, not fingers. Talons, not toes. A tail swung from side to side of its own accord, helping me find balance. I struggled, and screamed again.
“Ly’Tana!” Kel’Ratan’s voice broke through my panic. “Calm down!”
I saw him, bending low, impossibly huge, one hand reaching for me, the other wrapped in heavy leather. I fought to get away from those gigantic hands, fighting to free myself from the alien form that gripped me. I felt the hand bound in leather reach under and nudge my alien legs. Another nudge would have toppled me over. Frantic, I instinctively grabbed hold of the hard leather, suddenly finding my balance as my talons dug deep.
“Easy, my girl.”
I heard Kel’Ratan’s soothing voice murmur to me, calming my fears. Following his voice, I let his calm wash over me, easing my trembling. Opening my eyes, I found his face on level with mine, his familiar, well-loved and monstrously big face. Nay, that was wrong. I thought hard, gaining control of my fears, remembering now how Rygel turned me into a bird.
A hawk. I shook myself, feeling my feathers settle into place. I looked about me, seeing my warriors from the perspective of a bird on Kel’Ratan’s fist. I saw them staring in awe, Witraz and Alun making the sign against enchantment. Left and Right both grinned, wearing identical expressions of delight. Yuri and Yuras nudged each other, pointing. Rannon gawped, his jaw slack, his tonsils clear behind his white teeth.
As my fears lessened, I could look down at myself. Sharp talons dug into the leather, Kel’Ratan’s other hand gently smoothing my feathers. Red-gold feathers, I noted, similar in color of my hair. I tried to speak to him. What emerged from my beak was a chirp. I tried again. I chirped.
“What now, my lord?” Kel’Ratan asked, turning his head slightly, but not taking his eyes from me. I looked about me with a hawk’s jerky movements, from first one eye, then tilting my head to peer through the other, seeking Rygel. I could not see him. I turned about, my newfound balance improving as I quickly grew accustomed to my new form. My tail feathers spread of their own accord. I half-furled my wings, finding my equilibrium increasing rapidly.
I could get used to this, I though happily, my fear gone entirely.
Turning around again, I still could not see Rygel.
“I’m up here,” said a voice within my mind.
I looked up, seeing overhead the red-brown hawk I remembered from earlier. He circled lazily, his bright eyes peering down at me still perched on Kel’Ratan’s fist. Wings wide in effortless flight, he dropped down and circled once more, winging up behind Kel’Ratan. The backwash of air blew Kel’Ratan’s hair from his shoulders as Rygel backwinged and landed gracefully on his shoulder. Startled, Kel’Ratan jerked back with a curse, then caught himself. I expected Rygel to dig in his talons as I did, causing Kel’Ratan pain. For by now I recognized the strength and sharpness of my talons, and knew that without the heavy leather, I would have already cut his hand to pieces.
Rygel must have had more practice at standing as a bird than I did, for Kel’Ratan’s hand left my feathers and stroked gently down Rygel’s back. He showed no signs that Rygel’s talons hurt him.
“Well, Princess?” Rygel asked in my mind.
“How do you do that?” I asked, following his lead and speaking within my mind.
“I forged a mind link with you,” he said, his bright yellow eyes peering into mine. “We can communicate more easily this way, and I will teach you to fly.”
I tried to nod, but only bobbed my head. Still trying to communicate as a human, I thought ruefully.
“That will cease in time,” Rygel said.
“You heard my thought?”
“Indeed. And will until I break the link.”
If Kel’Ratan knew Rygel and I were speaking, he gave no sign. Rather he watched me curiously, patient, waiting for me to fly from his hand. Glancing around, I saw all my warriors watching with anticipation. Then I looked at Bar. He stood nearby, watching, his lion tail lifted, wings half-furled as my own were, an almost greedy light burning in his predatory eyes. Waiting. To fly. With me.
“Now watch me carefully, Princess,” Rygel said, tearing my attention away from Bar’s avid eyes. “Let your hawk instincts take over. Jump into the air and catch the wind.”
As I watched him carefully, he launched himself into the air with a sharp screech, his talons coiling up under his tail. Wings outstretched, he flapped mightily and rose, his wings beating the air until once more he circled overhead.
I can do this, I thou
ght.
“Of course you can. Now try it.”
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my wings and jumped as high as I could. Beating my wings hard, I succeeded in only flapping my way to the ground. I landed with a furious squawk, shaking dust from my head and eyes. I expected laughter to rain down from above as Kel’Ratan bent low and invited me back onto his leather-bound hand. I gripped tightly as he stood up.
“Not bad,” Rygel’s voice spoke encouragingly. “Try again.”
With a mighty jump, I launched myself into the air, fanning the air with my wings. This time I flew low over the heads of my warriors, who ducked as though fearing I would smash into their faces, before landing with a thump far behind them.
“Very good.” Rygel’s mental voice praised.
Good thing there were not any trees around, I grumbled inwardly. I would no doubt fly straight into one.
Now I did hear a laugh. “Why do you think I chose to teach you here, in a meadow? Now release your hawk instincts.”
Without waiting for Kel’Ratan or anyone else to pick me up, I jumped straight into the air, catching the light breeze. I let go of my human self, and surrendered to the hawk. Almost without effort, my wings captured the air, making it my servant, letting it lift me higher and higher. I beat upward, making for the sun, the earth dropping away below me. I should be afraid, I thought, all that emptiness below my feet. Instead, my heart surged within me, excitement, joy, all the happiness in the world lay in the thrill of flying.
I looked down, seeing my warriors as tiny specks against the green, the far off trees once more a gray-green fuzz. Yet, if I looked hard enough, my hawk’s vision brought everything to me in a rush. No longer specks, I could see mouths open as my warband gaped upward, searching for me, hands shading eyes. I even saw a ground squirrel many rods away from my people, sitting on its haunches and nibbling seeds. I resisted a strong urge to stoop down upon it and kill it. How did I go so high so fast?
“Hawks are born for speed,” Rygel’s voice spoke in my mind.
Startled, I saw him flying nearby, high against the sun. He dipped a feather and turned into a steep dive. I followed suit, my wings taking on a life and mind of their own as I hurtled earthward. Again, I resisted the urge to pin my wings to my back and dive to catch the ground squirrel in my talons. Once more Rygel laughed.
“You will have to keep your hawk instincts from taking that much control,” he said. “At least for right now.”
“But I’m hungry.”
His laughter echoed deep within my mind as I followed him. Together we soared, swooped downward, to soar again. In total, complete harmony, we danced the dance of wind and air and flight. I caught a warm updraft and allowed it to carry me higher, the colder altitudes no threat against my thick warm feathers. I circled, my tail dipping, steering, acting as a rudder would a ship. One tiny dip of a wingtip had me changing direction, first left, then right, up, then down. I soared up again, the sun in my eyes.
Suddenly, with no warning, a huge winged shape that dwarfed my tiny hawk body blew past at a blinding speed, catching me in its backwash of air. Caught unawares, I tumbled beak over tail, my wings losing their grip on the wind. I dropped like a stone toward the earth for long moments, my terror causing panic to freeze my mind and body. Then my hawk instincts took over, my wings once more caught the wind and I soared upward.
Bar laughed silently as he winged back toward me, his yellow eyes bright with amusement, his wings lifting him effortlessly against the sun. I screeched in shrill rage, flying straight and furiously into his startled face. Talons out and open, I sought to seize his beak, to rend and rip. He dove at the last instant, turning his tail to me, and he flew hard to escape me. I knew if he dove for the earth, I could never catch him. Yet, my smaller frame could climb faster than he and he beat for the sky. I chased him close to a mile toward the distant mountains, still screeching my fury. He fled, still laughing with parted beak as he looked back over his shoulder at me.
I caught him, my sharp talons digging into the soft fur and meat of his back just above his tail. Bar roared in pain, hunching his back, his tail lashing. I held on, letting him carry me down, folding my wings to my back as I rode him as I would ride a horse. He bucked and twisted, trying to get me off. I grimly held on, digging my talons in deeper.
“Perhaps he has been punished enough, Princess.”
I saw Rygel swoop nearby, his laughter echoing in my head. “You still need to learn how to land and we must go find Raine.”
Bar wailed his surrender. I released my talons, catching a fast glimpse of bloody furrows in his fur as Bar flew under me. He looked back, his eyes filled with reproach, but I was unrepentant.
“That should teach you, you big bully,” I snapped.
Bar gave no sign he heard me. Rather he flew sulkily ahead, shooting me sharp glances over his shoulder.
“Can Bar not hear us?”
“If I were able to establish a mind link with him, perhaps,” Rygel answered. “But there’s no time for that.”
“Will he go with us?”
I saw Rygel shoot a sharp glance at Bar as we winged in Bar’s wake. “Perhaps he would be of some help. Aye.”
Shooting past Bar’s bulk, Rygel led the way downward, spiraling ever closer to the ground. Bar swooped low over the heads of my warriors and I followed his example, cupping the air to slow my speed. Rygel was right, however: I had no idea how to land.
“Like this.”
I circled, dipping a pinfeather to keep myself airborne in a small circle; I watched as Rygel backwinged and settled once more on Kel’Ratan’s shoulder. Bar caught my eye as though recognizing my predicament, and also cupped his wings, flapping backward to land serenely on the ground. Remembering my ride on Bar’s shoulders and how his wings worked hard to break the wind, I flew slowly toward Kel’Ratan’s raised leather-bound fist. Backwinging looked easier than it was, but I managed to drop to Kel’Ratan’s hand without missing his hand and tumbling to the ground in embarrassment.
“I am impressed.”
Rygel’s awed voice cut through the wild cheers of my warriors as they yelled and applauded. Bar solemnly stalked up to me, nudging me gently with his beak, his eyes alight with pride. Even Kel’Ratan laughed in sheer delight at my performance. I could not seem to help it: I preened under their praise, settling my feathers into place one more.
“Be safe, you two,” Kel’Ratan said quietly, sobering quickly and glancing from Rygel to me and back again. “Send word if you can. We’ll be here, waiting.”
I chirped, and briefly rubbed my feathered cheek against his in affection and love. His lowered arm prepared me, so when he threw his fist, and me, into the air, I was ready with spread wings. I caught the air and beat upwards, toward the sun. Rygel flew beside me, just off my left wingtip. A glance down showed Bar flying just below me, his great wings sweeping slowly, his leonine legs and tail trailing him. With the sun on my wings, I flew into the west, toward the escarpment.
“It’s up to you now, Princess,” Rygel’s mental voice spoke. “Lead us to him.”
I looked down at the gray-green forest far below, at the huge escarpment running north and south for leagues. It was a vast forest in every direction, no landmarks, no roads, no signs pointing the way. I had no idea where in that vast expanse where to look for Wolf. In my panic aboard Bar’s broad shoulders, I never paid heed to just where on the escarpment we flew from, to perhaps follow my trail back. I began to panic.
“Relax, Princess,” Rygel’s voice soothed. “What took you hours to run will take but mere moments to fly. Take your time. We can see a long way with our hawks’ eyes.”
Reassured, I flew toward the area I thought Bar launched himself from, hoping I was close. The huge jagged cliff swept by under me, my tiny shadow far below on the rocks. I dropped lower as the forest edge loomed up, Rygel and Bar keeping pace. Westward, I flew, thinking hard. Wolf and I left Soudan not far from the south gates, and traveled east by northeast. If
I flew west by southwest, toward the distant city, I should be near where the Tongu overtook us.
“I know where you mean,” Rygel said.
I silently thanked Nephrotiti the gift of speech mind to mind, for it saved a great deal of time.
“Thank me, Princess,” Rygel said, amusement in his tone. “Not your goddess.”
I could not help it. I laughed.
My two shadows in my wake, I flew back and forth across what I hoped was my backtrail. To save time, Rygel flew somewhat north and I took the south, crossing each other’s path. Bar circled overhead, occasionally shrieking to get my attention if he saw a place he recognized on his own hunt for me. Below, I saw naught but a green and brown tangle of wood, branches and leaves. My hawk’s vision at its keenest, I saw hundreds of small forest creatures flee from the approach of three sky borne predators. I saw a fox gaze upward, halted in its own hunt, as we flew over. Deer fled in panic at Bar’s immense presence, bounding over logs and thickets, leaping to the west before scattering as he swooped low over their heads.
The forest looks so different from up here, I thought, peering down through the trees. I found if I focused on something below, my speed took me past it before it could register. Often, I circled back, looking again, seeking the tiny clearing where the Tongu captured us.
Wait. What was that?
“What?” Rygel circled with me, looking at me, not the ground.
Was that a faint tendril of blue smoke? I banked, turning about with a tiny dip of my wing. There. Rygel also peered down.
A small fire, held within the confines of a tiny clearing. Men sat around the fire, the faint hiss of their voices reaching my keen ears. I found him!
“Princess, wait!” Rygel called, as I swooped lower, seeing more details, hounds lounging indolently under the trees, men roasting meat on spits over the small blaze. I drifted over and past, searching for signs of Wolf, but not seeing him. I counted, one, three, five, six of the original nine who attacked us. I recognized the one who escaped Bar, still nursing the shoulder I struck. So he made it back. Four hounds still lived, also.
In a Wolf's Eyes Page 36
