Choices

by Mercedes Lackey

  :Mind-friend, hurry! Something comes!: It was harder for Rinton to read the bird’s mind-voice than Linx’s, but it was clear that the crow had no word to describe what came. And whatever it was, even aloft the bird feared it.

  Somehow, the Companion found an even faster stride, and Rinton flattened himself as much as possible over his back, one arm wrapped around the young girl, who clung to the pommel with one hand and Linx’s mane with the other. A detached part of his mind marveled at her current lack of fear, and he wondered if Linx had taken a stronger control of her mind so that their flight would be easier.

  :Yes, I have,: his Companion replied shortly before he could articulate the thought. :You have been trained to stay on my back at a gallop. She has never been on a horse before.: Then, silence other than the pounding of hooves and a new, strange whistling behind them.

  Fear crept up on Rinton, a different fear from Mirideh’s inadvertent projections, although like them, it came from outside of him. This dark dread clawed at his shields, fraying the very protections he set against it, as fatigue weakened him.

  :Hold on, Chosen.: Linx’s Mindvoice was sharper now, and he could tell that the Companion, too, felt that otherworldly fear. In the fading light, he could only marvel that Linx could see at all, much less run with such headlong speed, leaping obstacles and maintaining his footing on the other side. Even for a Herald, it was a harrowing ride, and it took all of Rinton’s concentration to hold up his own shredding shields and keep himself and the girl on Linx’s back. The dark terror kept growing, the strange whistling louder and closer, the silence other than the whistle and Linx’s hoofbeats more deafening, until he half-expected to feel claws in his back to match the claws raking at his shields. In desperation, he closed his eyes against the darkness, clinging to the girl and to his Companion, dread threatening to swallow him whole as Linx raced towards the border.

  To his mind’s eye, his Companion had always had a luminous glow to him, but now Linx shone like a blazing star. Even with his eyes tightly shut, Rinton could see the terrain ahead of them just by the Companion’s own radiance, could see faint lines threading ahead of them to pick out safe passage, where silvery hooves could find purchase to drive them forward ever faster. With this strange new vision, Rinton dared not turn to “look” behind them, fearing the shape the darkness might take if he saw it now. Instead, he drew from Linx’s strength to bolster his shields, to hold them against the terror that pursued them.

  There were no signposts, no markers in the forest to show where, precisely, they crossed into Valdemar, and yet they all knew the moment they did so. The horror behind them checked suddenly, as though it ran into a wall where they passed unhindered. The strange whistling peaked into an angry keening. A burning malevolence filled with fury and frustration washed over them, sharp threat still clawing toward their shields, and then it cut off into sudden silence.

  Kiyan cawed once, not a warning, nor yet a triumph, but with a note of relief. Linx’s breakneck gallop slowed to a canter, then a trot, then a much more sedate walk as he cooled himself off.

  :A rough camp again tonight, I’m afraid,: he said. :I would wish better for the young one.:

  Startled from his thoughts by the reminder of Mirideh, Rinton straightened from his hunched position, loosening his grip on the girl to support her lightly.

  “It is a poor welcome, little one, to Valdemar. But here you will be safe.”

  “What will happen to me?” Her worry was clear, even with Linx’s shields preventing her from projecting.

  Rinton’s hand swept through his hair as he always did when frustrated. :It’s a good question, Linx. I don’t even know for sure.:

  :We will take her to Haven, of course. She needs training in Empathy and shielding, at the very least. And, unless I miss my guess, she might be a Mindhealer, too. We were going to be meeting up with our replacements shortly anyway; we’ll just meet them at a different spot on the Circuit.:

  “We will go first to the city of Haven, to find those who can care for you. And you will learn, too, how to protect your mind, as Linx is doing for you now. But tonight we camp, and tomorrow we travel.”

  Mirideh nodded, leaning her head drowsily against his shoulder as the exhaustion of their flight caught up with her.

  It is a good enough explanation for now, Rinton thought. Tonight, the three of them—no, four, Rinton reminded himself as Kiyan swooped down to land on his shoulder—would sleep under the stars. The morning would be time enough to explain more to the young Karsite, to guide her into her new life. It would be a while, he expected, before she would understand that her Gift, which caused such fear and turmoil in Karse, would be welcomed and, if Linx was right, celebrated in Valdemar. Empaths and Healers were uncommon enough, but Mindhealers were downright rare.

  Besides, since Weaponsmaster Alberich’s Choosing, no Herald at least had used the old saw “nothing comes out of Karse but brigands and bad weather.” Perhaps young Mirideh would further help change Valdemaran minds about their southern neighbors. If, as Fidesa had said, change was coming to Karse, eventually it would also come to Valdemar.

  And, as always, the Heralds would be there to meet it.

  Feathers in Deed

  Jennifer Brozek

  :What do you think he’ll be like?: Hadara asked as they traveled the trade route through Rethwellan on their way to Bolthaven. :Old?:

  Kitha gave a quizzical whistle, then shrugged before answering in Animal Mindspeech. :Probably mysterious and wise. With white hair. Magic always shows in the hair. Right?:

  They were an unusual pair: a blind gryphon of a tawny mottled color with white crest feathers walking next to a half-Shin’a’in Change-Child who had the stature of a ten-year-old and the weight of a toddler.

  They’d spent weeks walking, flying, and gliding from the Dhorisha Plains to where they were now—just outside Bolthaven. The reactions to them along the way had been mixed and wary, though no one had outright attacked them. Strange beings traveled the trade roads since the Mage Storms. It was still fresh in everyone’s memory. As long as Kitha kept herself hooded and showed the mostly human side of her face, all was well.

  The gryphon was a marvel to see, and no stranger knew Hadara was blind. She wasn’t when she used Kitha’s eyes to see. And when the gryphon spoke for the Change-Child who wore the leathers and markings of the Shin’a’in, they didn’t need to see that she’d been warped by the last Mage Storms and melded with a hawk. The wild magic had stolen Kitha’s voice, her stature, and half of her face, but it hadn’t touched her determination or will.

  :It depends on the Mage, doesn’t it? Tayledras Mages always go silver. It’s part of their nature.:

  :I suppose.: Kitha glanced up at her lifebonded companion. She didn’t need to know what the gryphon was feeling or thinking to know that she was worried. The gryphon’s feathers drooped, her steps were slower than normal, and her head was down.

  They both worried about the same things. They worried that the vaunted White Winds Mage wouldn’t be able to fix either of their magical ills. Worried more that if he could, it would sever the lifebond they had. It was through Hadara that the outside world could understand Kitha. Not even Mindspeech touched her. Only Animal Mindspeech. It was through the lifebond that Hadara could share Kitha’s eyes and regain some semblance of sight. At least, that was their mutual understanding.

  Not that Hadara always used Kitha’s eyes. They’d both decided that that would be a bad idea. Blind or not, the gryphon was still competent. She didn’t need to become dependent on the Shin’a’in courier. Her other senses and gifts were still sharp.

  Just below the crest of a hill, Hadara stopped and listened.

  :C’mon you giant birdbrain. Stop dragging your feet. We’re going to see the Mage, like it or not.:

  “Hussshh,” Hadara said. “Liisssten.”

  Kitha tilted her head and listened. Th
ere, in the distance, a cry of distress. They both hurried to the crest of the hill.

  Kitha turned her hawk eye towards the commotion and focused in to see as if she were there on the sidelines. Four people in a fight. A tall man in a tunic of the Bolthaven colors of blue, gray, and white seemed to be protecting a young woman in light-colored robes from a man and a woman in the rough brown clothing and leathers of bandits.

  The protector took a double attack in the form of a dagger to the stomach and a couple of hard knocks to the face. He went to his knees and was clouted on the head with a dagger pommel.

  :Keep your eyes on them.: Hadara backed up a couple of steps, then took a running leap off the hill. She unfurled her wings and glided at the group in a silence belied by her size.

  Kitha, following at a slower pace, pulled her sight back a little to give Hadara a better view of her targets. She didn’t know what the gryphon was going to do, but she bet it was going to be painful. Both of them eyed the male bandit as the more dangerous of the pair.

  Even as Hadara glided in like an avenging angel, with Kitha sprinting behind her, the woman—a Mage!—was not helpless. She’d put some distance between her and her foes and brought up her hands. With them, a wall of flying debris—leaves, twigs, dirt, and small rocks—came up to form a moving barrier that blocked both thrown daggers and the bandits who tried to reach her.

  Then Hadara was there, punching the man with a clenched claw. Fist struck temple and the man crumpled. Hadara wheeled and set down, giving a scream of challenge.

  Kitha, running full at them with her cloak flying, answered with her own smaller challenge.

  The woman bandit saw the tide had turned, reached into a pouch, and threw something to the ground. The world exploded in light and sound.

  The Mage cried out and covered her face, dropping her protective wall. Hadara reared back, clawing at the air. For her, it was like being blinded once more and deafened at the same time. Kitha, still a distance away, was spared the worst of it. She blinked away tears as her ears rung.

  When the noise and light faded away, the bandit woman was nowhere to be seen.

  :Calm, Hadara. I’m here. It’s okay.: Kitha skidded to a stop and caught sight of something strange. The downed bandit. There was a shimmer around his silver belt buckle, then the buckle was gone. Fetched away. It seemed the woman bandit had a gift beyond the skill of fighting.

  The young woman Mage, hardly more than a teenager, blinked through watery eyes at the gryphon and the Change-Child. She didn’t flee, but she looked afraid and ready to continue the fight.

  Kitha took a look at the Mage’s downed companion and knew she didn’t have time to soothe nerves. She hurried to his side and pressed a taloned hand to the worse of the bleeding wounds and dug into her pouch for a bandage.

  The Mage moved in to protect the man.

  Hadara stepped up. “It’sss all rrright.”

  The woman looked as though she wanted to flee again. She stopped as she saw Kitha pressing a bandage to the man’s wound.

  :Ask her if she has any healing skills,: Kitha demanded.

  “Can you hhheal?”

  The Mage did not respond.

  Hadara shook her head. :I can’t hear myself. Not really. That explosion . . . :

  :Wonderful. You can’t see. I can’t speak, and none of us can hear.: Kitha peered at the Mage, who watched with a keen and wary eye. She crooked a single finger to beckon the Mage closer. When she complied, Kitha moved in a slow, clear motion to grasp her by the wrist and pulled the woman’s hand to the bandage.

  The Mage understood and pressed her hand down to stanch the wound.

  With the water she had left, Kitha cleaned her hands, then dug into her pack for needle and thread. The woman blanched and shook her head as Kitha held it up. Kitha made an impatient whistle.

  “Hhoold the flessshh togetherrr forrr herrr,” Hadara said, trying to help as she kept watch.

  The Mage threw a startled glance at the gryphon. “I can hear?” she asked, experimenting. “I can hear. Thank the Winds, I can hear.”

  Kitha nodded and pointed to the wound.

  “Yes. Of course. I’m Teralyn.” She shifted the bandage and the man’s shirt, then held the slashed flesh together. “This is Braden. Thank you for helping us.”

  Nodding again, Kitha mended the wound as best she could. She examined Braden and did what she could for the other wounds. As they turned him over to look at his back, they all saw the black dagger with a curved handle. It had a smooth edge and polished black horn for the grip. Well made, it didn’t look like something a common bandit would have.

  Kitha whistled low and took it. She offered it to Teralyn.

  Teralyn shook her head. “They both had daggers like that.”

  Kitha shrugged and stuck it in her pack. :Introduce us?: she asked Hadara.

  The gryphon fluffed up. “I am Hadarrrra of k’Leyssssha Vale. This is my companion Kitha ssshena Tale’sssedrrrrin.”

  Teralyn stood and gave a small bow. “I’m Teralyn of Bolthaven, apprentice to the Mage Quenten.” As she spoke, her hands moved in a series of complex gestures.

  Surprised, Kitha caught several of the words even as Hadara repeated them in Animal Mindspeech for her. The silent language? Kitha signed.

  “Yes, my brother cannot hear or speak. You know it?” Teralyn spoke aloud as she continued to sign.

  A little. Kitha signed then gestured to Hadara. :Tell her?:

  “Kitha wassss recccently afflicted. Sssshe is learning.” Hadara opened her mouth in a wide grin. “We ccould talk morrre on the way to Bolthaven?”

  Teralyn looked around, worried. “I’d like that. Please though, let me build a travois for Braden first.”

  * * *

  • • •

  “I must admit, the group of you made quite a sight arriving with my apprentice and her companion.” Across from Hadara and Kitha, Quenten sat behind a time-worn desk filled with papers, scroll cases, writing implements, and several things that could either be knickknacks or magical artifacts. Kitha couldn’t tell. The office itself had once been a meeting room, and was big enough to hold a dozen people with ease. She suspected he held lectures in here.

  The Mage was a lean man with a quick smile, wrinkles around the eyes, and red hair shot through with gray. Between the wrinkles and the smile, it was impossible to say if he was thirty or seventy or somewhere in between. Despite this, he radiated a sense of calm power and poise that only came with experience and knowledge.

  Kitha shrugged as she watched Quenten with interest and trepidation. Hadara felt both of their worry and fluffed her feathers as she resettled herself again.

  “In any case, thank you for assisting my apprentice. There have been dark rumors lately about a growing . . .” He cut off his own train of thought with an abrupt slash of his hand and shake of his head. “I will think on that later: the missing buckle and the dagger you’ve given me. Now, the two of you have come to see me for another reason.” Quenten spoke like a man who already knew what was happening.

  “Ourrr maladiessss.” Hadara turned her head to display her cloudy eyes as Kitha pulled back her hood to display her half-hawk face. “Both werrree magic borrrrn.”

  Kitha whistled once and held up a finger. Then she dug into her pouch for the letter written by Jerda shena Tale’sedrin and handed it to the master Mage. It introduced the pair and explained in succinct words what the two of them wanted to know: Could either of their problems—Hadara’s blindness and Kitha’s physical mutation—be fixed by magic? It explained the magical trap that Hadara had fallen into and the fact that Kitha had been warped in a Mage Storm. It also explained that the pair was lifebonded.

  Quenten’s eyebrows raised as he mouthed the words “Lifebonded.” He looked at Kitha’s Shin’a’in clothing, recognizing it for what it was. Glancing between the two, he asked,
“How long have you known each other?”

  “About fourrr monthsss,” Hadara responded before adding, “I wasss blinded about nine monthsss ago. Sssshe was caught in one of the lasssst Mage Ssstorrrms, about five monthsss ago.”

  “And you didn’t know each other before then?”

  Both Hadara and Kitha shook their heads.

  Quenten put the letter on the desk. He rose and walked around it to stand before them. “What do you fear?”

  Success, Kitha signed. After a moment, she added, Failure.

  Quenten nodded to Kitha. It was clear he knew something of the silent language. He turned to Hadara. “And you?”

  “The brrreaking of the bond.”

  The Mage rubbed his chin as he muttered to himself. Then he raised his head. “You both fear this?”

  They nodded.

  “And both fear that I might not be able to do anything to help you?”

  Again they nodded.

  “But you still want to see what I can do?”

  “Yesss,” Hadara said as Kitha signed the same word.

  “My question for you two is this.” Quenten paced like a professor giving a lecture. “If I cannot help you, what will you do?”

  Courier, Kitha signed.

  “We will continue asss we arrre and continue our plan to be a courrrierrr pairrr.”

  Quenten glanced between them. “And if I succeed?”

  Courier, Kitha signed again.

  “The sssaame.” The gryphon gave the Mage a head tilt and an open-mouthed smile. “We will be courrrierrrss.”

  “I see.” Quenten shrugged. “That makes my job a little easier. I’ll need to examine both of you and do some research. In the meantime, Teralyn will show you where you can stay. Also, my apprentice has offered to teach you, Kitha, all she knows of the silent language while you are here. In thanks for rescuing her.”

  Kitha signed, Thank you.