Thrice Bound

by Roberta Gellis

  Their glances met and held, then Kabeiros nodded. "We have a goal," he said, "but I must warn you that I fled the west because they were even less accepting of the Gifted than those here in Ka'anan. It is not only the shape-shifters they sacrifice to the king of the dead."

  "But you said that there were great mages in Olympus."

  "Those of the west call them `gods.' Mostly they've forgotten the Mother and some wage war on those who still worship Her. My village was destroyed." His lips twisted. "Not that I was any favorite there either. Fortunately it happened after I had been driven out for being the black dog. I had actually started going north and east to look for Olympus, but I could never find it."

  "Are you sure it exists?" Hekate asked.

  "Yes. That's how I know the `gods' are great mages. I came across two of them in one of their temples. I smelled magic—" he smiled. "As the black dog, I smell all magic; as the man I see some things, like the blood of the earth in its veins and auras, but not most magic."

  "You smelled magic, so you went to see." Hekate shook her head and sighed. "As the black dog, you manage to get into more trouble than ten mischievous children. When we travel together I will have to leash you! How come you escaped with your skin whole?"

  "They weren't fierce or evil. The girl was so . . . so . . . I can't even tell you what she was like. I loved her. No one could help loving her. And the man . . . Holy Mother, he aroused lust in me, and I am no man lover; my taste was always for women." He sighed. "I don't know how long ago that was, but I'll never forget them."

  "But have they forgotten you? Did they notice you?"

  "Oh, yes. They were gathering up the offerings on the altar and when I first saw them I thought they were thieves and was about to bark, but the girl turned and put her finger to her lips, and the man smiled at me and mouthed `Hush, brother'—and they both disappeared with the offerings."

  "Disappeared?"

  "Vanished. Without a sound. They transported themselves elsewhere."

  "Transported themselves?" Hekate scowled. "I feel like an echo valley. All I do is repeat what you say, but I can hardly believe my ears and need to hear the words again. I can transport things with a spell—if they aren't too heavy—but how can one transport oneself?"

  "I have no idea, but it was a spell. I could smell the magic, but the magic was . . . was inside themselves, not pulling them away from outside. And they weren't thieves. They were the `gods' that were worshipped in that temple. I saw them drawn in the frescoes and carved into statues. Of course, the images couldn't really reproduce the beauty of the originals, but they were close enough to prove that the artist had seen the girl and the man."

  "Then why do you say they are mages and not gods? The Mother is over all, but there are other gods."

  "Like Kabeiros?" Kabeiros laughed. "What true god comes to take away the sacrifices? Does a god need to eat food like you and I? Does the Mother? Even the king of the dead isn't a god. Doesn't he send his people to gather up the grain and dried meat and fruit? So he eats too."

  "But the caves? They can undo the damage that sorcerer did to your Gift."

  "The caves are something else. I don't think what they do is owing to the king of the dead. I didn't smell any magic . . . except yours . . . when I changed to the black dog."

  Hekate nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "You may be right after all. As soon as your spell of terror and despair was gone, I felt comfortable here. Warm inside. Safe. To me that's a sign of the Mother. There's never any feeling of `magic' with her, only power . . . endless power. But the feeling was different from that of the secret shrine in the forest so I assumed it was owing to a kindly king of the dead. Still, the Mother has many forms."

  "If only the Mother can help me in the aspect that is manifested in these caves—"

  "We won't know, will we, until we look for another answer," she interrupted, then sighed impatiently. "Well, if those who live in Olympus are mages and not gods, so much the better for us; perhaps one has a Gift that will solve your problem and mages are easier to bargain with than gods. But if we can't find the place—"

  "I think I could find it as the dog. I was ages younger when I first sought Olympus and didn't think of changing to the dog and smelling for magic. Then the hound form was for play, to enjoy. Also I know better where to look, now. After I had come here to Ka'anan, I learned that Olympus is in a cup among the mountains between Hestiaeotis or Perrhoebia and Pieria. But by then I was enjoying my life here and I had no special reason to go back."

  "But now you do, and it's certainly worth trying to find such powerful mages. It's as good a place to go as any other, and if we can't find it or if no one there can help you, we can always come back here."

  Kabeiros looked away, ashamed. "Except that it's a very long way, and by the time we get to the lands of the west, I won't have enough mind left to remember what I'm seeking."

  "Yes, you will," Hekate said. "The reason you lost yourself to the dog was that you lost contact with humans. Few knew you were a dog and even those feared to show they knew you were also a man and didn't try to speak to you or make you think. If we talked together constantly—well, as much as we spoke in the caves, for example—neither of us would welcome constant chatter—you would never forget your humanity and the dog would never dominate the man."

  "You would extend my time, I'm sure, but without the power to reply to you and to present my own thoughts, I'm afraid my interest in what you said to me would fade."

  "But you would be able to reply! I meant we would speak together mind-to-mind."

  "I know that Gift exists," Kabeiros said, sighing, "but I don't have it."

  "Neither did I," Hekate replied with a grimace, "but that is not always a natural Gift. It seems it is also a skill that anyone's mind—perhaps only those who can use power, but you can do that—can be taught. My father forced it on me when I was a child the better to control me. It wasn't a pleasant experience. He might as well have raped my body."

  Kabeiros stared at her, appalled. "Have you known what I was thinking all the time we've been together?"

  "Of course not! Holy Mother, always knowing what everyone else was thinking would drive a person mad." She stopped speaking abruptly and her glance went past Kabeiros, her brow suddenly creased with thought. "Hmmm," she muttered, "I wonder if those who hear voices and are said to be mad have some kind of uncontrolled Gift . . ." She shook her head impatiently and waved away the idea with a quick gesture. "I wish I wasn't so easily distracted by this and that idea."

  "I am not so easily distracted," Kabeiros said, his voice harsh. "You did know what I was thinking."

  "Sometimes." Hekate raised her brows. "But that was from how you looked or held your body, not from listening to your thoughts. Nor will I be able to know what you wish to keep private after I show you how to hear me and send thoughts to me." She laughed bitterly. "Do you think my father would have taken any chance that I would learn what was in his mind? This is a skill, just like talking. You must think at me what you wish to say—and only I will `hear' you, no one else."

  "Truly? It will be like talking to you? That's all?"

  "Truly, but I'll tell you that giving you this skill will be very unpleasant, like having hot needles stuck through your skull—at least, that was how it affected me. I think I screamed for a week straight." She frowned. "Should I put a sleep spell on you?"

  "Will the teaching—or whatever it is you do—work through a sleep spell?"

  "Why not?"

  "Your father didn't use one."

  Hekate laughed again, a single bark of sound without mirth. "My father enjoys others' screaming. He may even have some way of gathering power from another's pain."

  Kabeiros wrinkled his nose, lifting his upper lip; if he had been a dog, his tearing fangs would have been exposed. "I am not of Perses' blood," he growled. "The `Kindly Ones' would not trouble me if I killed him."

  "He is not so easy to kill," Hekate said with a shudder. "Worse than the
tangling of your Gift might befall you if you tried to attack him."

  "What worse? He could kill me. That's all."

  "He could enslave you, turn you against me." She shuddered again and then her mouth thinned until only the sharp tips of her teeth showed; her eyes shone with a blue glitter. "And I'm not sure I want him dead so easily as a torn-out throat," she added in so sweet a voice that Kabeiros recoiled. "That would be too easy for him." Her eyes looked like polished metal, nor was their expression any softer. "He should live, utterly without power, utterly helpless under the control of one who really hates him, and knowing he will die a drooling nothing. No, I do not want him so easily or quickly dead."

  Kabeiros took a deep breath. "You know how to hate, Hekate."

  "I have learned, over long and painful years." She stood quiet a moment, breathing deeply, then shivered. "No, I am not yet ready to try my strength against Perses, and I won't risk you, my only friend, before I'm sure we have a good chance at winning. Let my power grow. Let me learn from other mages. When I'm ready, we will return."

  PART TWO: THE SEEKING

  CHAPTER 7

  Hekate discovered over the next ten-day that she had been a bit overconfident in her estimate of how easy it would be to give Kabeiros vision and mind speech. The problem for the vision spell was that, although Kabeiros had plenty of power, he couldn't use it while he was the hound. Hekate didn't know whether there was some lack in the mind of the dog or whether it was simply that a dog has no way of pronouncing spells and no way of gesturing. Perhaps either would have been sufficient—the spell spoken silently in the mind with the gesture to invoke it or the words spoken aloud with or without gestures—but the dog could manage neither. Once the spell was invoked, it could feed off Kabeiros' power and would not fade, but getting it invoked was tricky.

  Nonetheless, after a few false starts on the afternoon of the first day, the spell that was to provide vision went very well. The initial failures made Hekate understand that Kabeiros must invoke the spell just as he changed form. The next morning, she drew the lines of power on a flat rock with the dregs of their tea just after they broke their fast.

  Kabeiros watched, nodding as the designs became fixed in his mind and then repeating the words without the mental images so he would not invoke the spell. Then they tested how close to the edge of the cave he could come without changing. Finally he stood with one foot raised to take the final step, invoked the spell, and walked forward into the sunlight outside the cave.

  The hound Kabeiros took two steps, swayed dizzily, and fell over. Hekate rushed to his side. The white eyes were closed and the dog was panting hard.

  "Come. Come," she begged, trying to pull him to his feet without success—the hound weighed as much as the man Kabeiros. "Keep your eyes closed. I will take you to the cave so you can tell me what is wrong."

  He shook his head for no and after another few moments climbed to a sitting position in which he carefully opened his eyes. She saw him swallow convulsively and then begin to drool—a sure sign of nausea.

  "Is the spell hurting you?" she asked. "Come back with me to the cave. You can dismiss the spell and I will make a new one."

  He closed his eyes. Shook his head again. Climbed unsteadily to his feet and turned toward the cave. He lost his balance as he turned and fell, but recovered quickly and this time began to walk back and forth along the length of the cave mouth. Hekate stood by, watching him as the signs of nausea and unsteadiness slowly diminished. Then he walked into the small area of open land by the cave mouth and down to the stream. When he lowered his head to drink, he almost fell into the water.

  Hekate hauled him back, but he went forward again, bent, and lapped at the water. Finally he turned toward her, barked twice, and ran off into the wood.

  "Wait," she called, but her voice was cracked with anxiety and he was a huge dog, well away, and could not hear her.

  She stood by the stream for some time, wringing her hands and trying to think of a way to call him back, but she had no idea where he had gone and the aura by which she knew Kabeiros the man was gone. By midday she realized that standing or pacing by the stream or sitting on damp moss or wet rocks would not help in getting him back. She remembered he had told her he could smell the caves and the hound had gone there once for shelter. Perhaps he would return. Dusk had fallen and Hekate had nearly given up hope by the time he came loping out of the wood with two dead rabbits hanging from his jaws. These he dropped at Hekate's feet, looking up and wagging his tail.

  "Oh dear Mother," she breathed, "have you turned all dog again, so soon?"

  At that the hound's mouth opened and his tongue lolled out, lips drawing back. Even through her anxiety, Hekate could see that he was laughing.

  She rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me worse has befallen me and you have reverted to playing tricks and japes!"

  The hound laughed harder, but he also bent his head to seize the rabbits again and ran back into the cave. "I am very tired of dried meat," Kabeiros the man said, grinning at her when she followed him in. "So I thought I would just get us some fresh rabbit."

  "I'd like to murder you!" Hekate exclaimed. "I thought you'd gone mad or totally lost yourself and run off for good. I was frightened to death! What went wrong with the spell?"

  Kabeiros looked surprised. "But I sent my thoughts to you to say what I was about to do, and you didn't object."

  "Kabeiros!" Hekate exclaimed, quite exasperated. "We haven't got to the mind speech part yet. That isn't a simple spell—I told you that. All I heard was two barks." She breathed deeply, suspecting from the gleam in Kabeiros' golden eyes that the trickster was back, that some effect of the change woke a dangerously mischievous streak in the dog and that traveling with him might be a livelier experience than she expected.

  "Anyhow," she continued, "that wasn't what I meant. Why did you fall over and feel sick after the vision spell took hold?"

  Kabeiros laughed aloud. "Because you gave me the vision of a man, and dogs see differently. Dogs don't see much color and their depth perception is different from a man's. Dogs don't see well at all—that is, most don't. Maybe the sight hounds see better, but I think they mostly are able to catch movement. I'm not sure, and anyhow my form is more fighting mastiff than sight hound. I never saw any detail and now I see more perfectly than I do as a man. Well, the dog's mind couldn't cope at first." He smiled at her. "But I am a man, not a dog—whatever I look like—so I adjusted."

  "Maybe we should have worked on the mind speech first, so you could have told me what was going on," Hekate said, sitting down rather limply.

  "If you want to do the next spell now," Kabeiros said, "just let me skin and cut up these rabbits first so you can cook a meal for us."

  "The next step can wait until tomorrow," Hekate replied. "It isn't a spell. I'll have to invade your mind, and it will hurt." She hesitated, then frowned. "If I must work on the dog directly, will the dog attack me?"

  Kabeiros looked troubled. "I want to say `no.' But the hound's reactions are so much faster than a man's that the body could act before my mind could stop it."

  "Then let's hope what the man learns the dog will know also."

  While they talked about what sort of sleep spell to use, Kabeiros disjointed the rabbits and Hekate went through her pouches to find suitable spices. Then they went out to gather firewood; the rabbit could have been roasted over hot stones, but Hekate had a yen for meat that had felt the touch of flames.

  It gave Kabeiros another chance to adjust to his strange vision and to renew his acquaintance with the dog's body. He confessed to Hekate, when they were back in the cave and the rabbit parts impaled on spits and cooking over the fire, that he had forgotten some of the things he could do as a dog.

  "Some instincts are so strong that you follow them without planning—which was how I caught the first rabbit. It leapt away almost under my feet, and I seized it and broke its neck before I really knew what I was doing. The second I had to hunt for, using the
scent of the first as a guide. This last time we were out, I began to remember how to tell an old trail from a new one and how to set my feet and sense brush about me so that I can move in silence."

  "I begin to see how a man could forget he was a man," Hekate said thoughtfully. "I've never remained in an animal form long enough to learn about the body or of what it is capable. I only wanted to discover if I could choose such a form. There are intriguing puzzles an animal must solve. One could become so interested in honing the skills of the form that the doings of mankind became dull."

  She leaned forward and prodded one cooking haunch with a sharp stick, but it sank in only a little way and the fluid that oozed out was too bloody. Kabeiros turned the spit a quarter turn. They fell companionably silent and may have dozed. Eventually the meat was cooked and they ate, drinking fresh water from the stream. They had several skins of wine, but by mutual consent they left those for the journey ahead, at least that night, because they thought they would be on their way in a day or two.

  In the end, they drank the wine before they started. Both needed the support it offered because opening the mind of Kabeiros the dog to mind speech went very slowly, very painfully. At first Hekate thought it would be as easy as the vision spell. She induced sleep in Kabeiros and did to his mind what her father had done to hers. Kabeiros had a horrible headache when he woke, but a tisane of willow bark and other herbs helped, and by afternoon she and Kabeiros were having short conversations.

  Since using the skill renewed the pain, they left it there for that day and busied themselves with preparing for the journey. Kabeiros went hunting and the game he brought back was mostly cut into strips for drying, the gut carefully cleaned and conditioned for use in binding and tieing. The dog was large enough to carry a pack, but it would need to be secured to his body. Later if Hekate could earn some metal trading pieces, they might be able to get a small cart that the dog could pull.

  They went to bed in a very cheerful humor. Kabeiros' headache was gone by the time they sought their bedrolls, and the dog had had no trace of the man's headache right from the beginning. That should have warned them, but neither thought much of it. The dog had no headache, and it also had no mind speech. Worse yet, no sleep spell that Hekate tried had any effect on the dog.