by Maggie Furey
Slowly, shyly, the Xandim began to mingle with Corisand’s companions both old and new, but suddenly the Windeye noticed an absence. Where was Aelwen?
She finally tracked the Horsemistress down a little way into the forest. Aelwen was sitting in the cavelike depression beneath the riven roots of a fallen spruce, all hunched up, with her hands clasped around her knees. Her eyes stared bleakly ahead of her, as if they saw a future filled with no hope, and there were smudges on her face where she’d wiped away tears with a grubby hand.
As understanding came to her, Corisand felt her heart go out to Aelwen. This woman had devoted her entire life to the care and well-being of the Xandim steeds. Even though she’d understood, once the Windeye had revealed the truth, that those she’d always looked upon as dumb beasts were anything but, the truth must only have hit home to her today, when she saw all the tribe turn into people; individuals who could make their own decisions and were no longer in her charge.
It was probably easier for her to explain me away, because I have a Windeye’s magic, but today she came face to face with the brutal truth.
Poor Aelwen! Not only had her great love and her whole life’s purpose been removed at a single stroke, but she must be wondering how she would be received by a race which she had trained, curbed and controlled; had bred to one another according to her own wishes, not theirs. No wonder she was here apart, uncertain of her welcome among them.
Corisand approached the former Horsemistress and sat down beside her. She didn’t speak at first – oddly, she found herself remembering the calm, unhurried patience with which Aelwen had always treated the Xandim when they were young, rebellious, hurt or afraid. So she waited quietly for her companion to speak, but when Aelwen, looking harried, muttered an excuse and leapt up to leave, the Windeye could wait no longer. She rose too and restrained the other woman with a hand on her arm.
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘They won’t blame you.’
‘How could they not?’ Aelwen flung back at her. ‘All these years I’ve treated them like animals. I’m the last person they’ll want to see right now.’
‘You’re wrong, you know. Don’t you understand, Aelwen? At that time the Xandim were little more than animals in their habits and ways of thinking. They didn’t understand, as I came to understand when I became Windeye, that they could be anything else. They were all instinct and very primitive emotions, fear being paramount. Horses are prey animals, herd animals. Their instinct is to run, fast and far from anything they perceive to be a threat, and once one starts running, the rest will follow.’
She swallowed to moisten a throat gone dry from talking. ‘You kept that fear at bay, Aelwen. You taught them when they were young that they didn’t need to spook at shadows, or leaves that the wind blew across their path. You nurtured and cared for them, and because your standards were so high, you and Kelon, you made damn sure that everyone in your employ did the same.’
‘So I was a thoughtful gaoler?’ Aelwen snapped. ‘It makes no difference. I was a gaoler nonetheless.’
‘If you’d known the truth about the Xandim, that would be correct. But you didn’t. You spoke up for those who were considered mere animals. As far as you could, you didn’t let the other Phaerie abuse us. And you instilled those same standards of care and respect into every Phaerie child you taught to ride.’
She stopped and took a deep breath, wondering what else she could say. Plainly, Aelwen was still unconvinced.
‘Look, why don’t you come back with me and talk to them yourself? You’ll soon see that I’m right.’
‘I can’t,’ Aelwen whispered. ‘I can’t face them.’
Corisand scowled at her. ‘I’ve had enough of this nonsense. You’re worrying yourself sick over something you don’t even know is true, and that’s just plain stupid. After all we’ve been through together, do you really think I’d put you in a position to be reviled and abused?’ Her voice softened a little. ‘When I was young, you were always leading me into unfamiliar situations that I was afraid of: having a bit put in my mouth, a saddle strapped around me and a rider on my back, to name but a few. In the end you invariably made me see that there was nothing to fear at all.’
‘Is that so? Well, why were you always so bloody difficult?’ Aelwen shot back. ‘Only Hellorin could ever ride you – I’ve never come across a more impossible horse to train.’
Corisand grinned at her. ‘I said you made me see that there was nothing to fear about being ridden. I didn’t have to like it, though. I suspect that there was some vestige of the Windeye in me long before Valir died and the responsibility passed to me. Somewhere inside I just knew that this situation should not exist. The others didn’t, though. It was different for them. Please, just come and talk to them. You’ll see.’
Taking her companion by the wrist, the Windeye hauled her back towards the forest’s edge where the Xandim had taken shelter. By now, many of them had turned back into horses in order to graze a little, and rest more comfortably, but as Aelwen approached there was a collective shimmer in the air as they all transformed at once.
‘Aelwen,’ a voice called out. It was the copper-haired Rosina. The slender young woman ran forward and threw her arms around the startled Horsemistress.
‘Aelwen, Aelwen,’ the cry echoed through the assembled Xandim. Then they were all around her. Some, like Rosina, who had been spending a great deal of time with people lately and understood the correct way to act, wanted to hug her, or pat her on the back, or shake her hand. Others, less versed in how to act in these new forms, hung back but smiled at her or looked on with shining eyes.
‘When my foal was turned the wrong way you helped me, and saved both our lives,’ an older woman with a shock of brown hair called out. ‘Now, at last, I can thank you.’
‘You did everything in your power to stop Tiolani abusing me,’ Asharal said. ‘I can never repay you.’
‘When I was a colt and stumbled in that rabbit hole and broke my leg, you wouldn’t let me be destroyed,’ another man called out. ‘You said, “He’s young, the break is clean, I think we can save this one.” You covered the break in some hard stuff till it mended, and held me up in slings, and fed me herbs to dull the pain. Thanks to you I can run again. Thanks to you, I lived.’
‘You walked me back and forth all night when I had colic.’
‘You wouldn’t let Ferimon breed me to his vicious white stallion.’
‘When my mouth proved too tender to take a bit, you made a special bridle, just for me.’
‘When Hellorin said I was ugly and wanted to cull me out, you saved my life.’ That was Alil.
‘You always gave us the best of food and shelter.’
‘You took care of every one of us when we came back filthy, aching and exhausted after the Wild Hunt, no matter how long it took or how tired you and the other grooms became.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you.’
On every side the voices rang out. Aelwen, with tears in her eyes, was surrounded by her Xandim; horses no more but finally able to express their love for her. ‘There’s no need to thank me,’ she said in an unsteady voice. ‘I loved taking care of you. I love you all.’
Smiling, the Windeye slipped away.
It took them four more days to reach Tyrineld. When Corisand asked them, the Xandim readily agreed to convey everyone back to the city, and they had all agreed to miss Nexis completely, avoiding any further delays, and hurry back. They were driven by anxiety to reach safety at last, and also by Avithan’s desperate need to be with his mother, who must be grieving over Cyran’s death. Sharalind was still assembling her army, too. It was important that she know there was no longer any need.
By the time the city came into view Iriana, her companions, the Winged Folk and all the Xandim were dragging with weariness. Even though they had taken a number of brief rests on the way, the pace had told on all of them. The Skyfolk bearers had been spared a great deal of effort, as Yinze had ridden ba
ck on one of the Xandim, but they all, Crombec and Kea included, looked pale with exhaustion.
Corisand was worst off, for she had the burden of maintaining the flying spell for her entire tribe. Though she had the Fialan to help her, and Iriana, who was also attuned to the Stone and could bolster the Windeye’s power with some of her own, Corisand’s movements were becoming increasingly slow and stiff, and her elegant grey head was beginning to droop. The Xandim who followed her were in a similar state, and the foals and older members of the herd were struggling to keep up at all.
‘Oh, thank providence for that,’ Iriana said. ‘I was so desperate to get away from Tyrineld – I never thought I’d be so glad to see it again. Just a little further now, Corisand, and we can all rest.’ But as they drew closer, they heard the alarm go up in a great blowing of horns and ringing of bells, and suddenly there was a rainbow glimmer in the air above the city as a great magical shield snapped into place.
Iriana clapped a hand to her forehead and spat out a curse. ‘They think we’re the Phaerie! Stop, Corisand. Stop, everyone, before they start firing spells at us.’
Avithan rode forward. ‘We should land,’ he said. ‘We won’t look so threatening on the ground. If Crombec and Kea are willing, I’ll get into Yinze’s net and fly into the city with the Skyfolk. My mother won’t attack them, and we’ll soon make her understand what’s really happening.’
Crombec nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. You had better hurry, Avithan, because if Sharalind has sensed your presence here she may think that Hellorin has captured you.’
Avithan nodded. ‘I’ll get into mindspeech range as quickly as I can, and straighten this thing out.’
The Windeye began to lead the Xandim quickly down, and their other companions, including the Skyfolk, landed with them. The bearers spread out the net, and Crombec and Kea came forward. ‘We’ll wait here with Yinze,’ Crombec told the winged girl. ‘Our Artefact must still be created, and if there are any misunderstandings as we near the city, there’s no sense in putting ourselves in the line of fire until we must.’
‘I’m sure it won’t come to that,’ Avithan said.
‘I wouldn’t be quite so confident if I were you.’ Taine gestured towards Tyrineld. Spreading out like a great dark stain from the city’s inland gate was an army of Wizards. Though their appearance was distorted by the shimmer of magical shields, the glitter of sunlight on more conventional weapons could be clearly seen.
With a curse, Avithan leapt into the nest of furs in the centre of the net, just as Yinze scrambled out, carrying his precious harp that he had brought with him in case he’d needed it to help Iriana. The bearers left the ground in a thunder of wings and took up the slack. As fast as their weary wings could go, they headed towards the swelling ranks of the Wizard army.
As he neared Tyrineld, Avithan began shouting out in mindspeech, as loud as he could. ‘This is Avithan – Avithan! You felt my return last night. You felt my father’s death. These flying steeds are not the Phaerie – not the Phaerie! There are no hostile forces here. Hellorin has been defeated and all the Phaerie have been wiped off the face of the earth by our own Wizard Iriana and the other people who came with me. This is Avithan – Avithan! Where is Sharalind?’
Suddenly he heard his mother’s voice in his head, so choked with emotion that her mindspeech was barely comprehensible. ‘Avithan? Avithan? Is it really you?’ There was a thunderclap of displaced air and Sharalind appeared below him. Avithan’s eyes widened. She hated apporting! Quickly he gestured his bearers to the ground. Almost before he had time to disentangle himself from the net, she launched herself into his arms. ‘Oh, Avithan,’ she sobbed. ‘Where have you been? Are you all right? We all felt your passing – what happened to you?’ She turned a ravaged face up to his. ‘Your poor father . . .’
‘Alas, there will be no returning for him,’ Avithan told her as gently as he could. ‘He came all the way through the forest trying to find out what had become of me, and was captured by the Phaerie. Taine – one of the people I came with—’ He gestured back towards the Xandim and their handful of riders. ‘He rescued my father from the Forest Lord’s dungeons in Eliorand, but when Cyran was free, he slew Hellorin’s daughter, Tiolani. Then he battled with Hellorin, but Hellorin proved too strong.’
He took a deep breath. ‘It’s too complicated to tell you all at once, for I don’t understand it all myself, but Iriana fought the Phaerie Lord and somehow defeated him, then Eliorand and every one of the Phaerie – they just vanished from the world. They’ve gone, Mama, really gone.’ Suddenly aware that he was babbling, he wound down into silence.
‘Gone? Truly gone?’ Sharalind seemed to be struggling to understand. She pointed at the Xandim, still shimmering from the flying spell. ‘Then who—’
Her words were drowned by a shattering roar. The massive, misshapen, nightmare form of Ghabal was suddenly towering over the city, drowning the shining white buildings in black shadow. ‘Give me back the Fialan,’ he roared. ‘The Stone of Fate is mine!’
Iriana, still on Corisand’s back and watching through her eyes, clenched her fingers tightly in the Windeye’s mane and cursed. ‘He must have known we’d come back here. He’s been lying in wait.’
‘Denali did warn us,’ her friend replied grimly. ‘We knew we’d have to fight him again.’
‘But not here,’ Iriana protested. ‘The damage—’
Her words were drowned in a great roar as the gigantic Ghabal stamped down hard, and a section of the city walls and the buildings behind them vanished in a cloud of dust, ground into a powder by his colossal foot. The earth shook and the tallest structures collapsed, including Ariel’s Tower, which toppled from its promontory into the sea. The death agony of dozens of Wizards struck all at once, and Sharalind’s army was thrown into disarray, with many being knocked off their feet by the psychic shock of so many simultaneous deaths.
Iriana cried out in agony, slumping weakly over the Windeye’s neck. Quickly, Corisand summoned her Othersight and spun a reflective shield around her companion. Though it would be unseen by anyone but the Windeye herself it would ward off the worst of the pain and trauma for Iriana. Sure enough, the Wizard gathered herself after a moment, though she was still shaking. ‘What did you do?’ she said gratefully.
‘I’m protecting you from the pain,’ Corisand replied. ‘But don’t ask me to do it for all the others – one is all I can manage.’ She rose a little way into the air, so that they could see better. ‘We’re going to have a fight on our hands, my friend.’
‘GIVE ME THE STONE!’ the Moldan roared, drowning the screams of terror and anguish coming from the city. He reached out, and the great twin-bladed axe that Corisand and Iriana remembered from their battle in the Elsewhere appeared in his hand. He took a great swing, and smashed the weapon down into the midst of the city. Great chunks of white masonry flew into the air, and a cloud of dust arose. Even above the shattering noises of destruction, the screams of Wizards rent the air as more and more of them died.
Ghabal took another step, crushing more of Tyrineld into rubble, and his axe came down once more – right on the Luen of Warriors. The sight seemed to free Sharalind’s army from its trance of paralysed horror. With a howl of outrage, they began to hurl spells at the Moldan. Massive vines caused further damage in the city as they erupted from the ground through pavements and buildings. Huge chunks of fallen structures, turned into projectiles by the enraged Warriors, hurtled through the air, impacting Ghabal’s rocklike hide with so much force that they shattered into pieces, doing more damage to fellow Wizards than to their target. Beneath the Moldan’s feet the earth was quaking and cracking, causing him to teeter and flail for balance, causing more destruction to his surroundings.
‘The idiots!’ Iriana fumed. ‘They’re just making matters worse. And Avithan’s down there with his mother.’
Thoughts started to fly faster than arrows between Wizard and Windeye.
‘Take the Fialan,’ Corisan
d said urgently to Iriana. ‘Show it to him. We’ve got to lure him away from the city.’
The Wizard reached down into the leather pouch around the Windeye’s neck and grasped the Stone of Fate, which glared like a baleful green eye as if it recognised its ancient enemy. ‘One to shield, one to attack as we did with Hellorin?’
‘No, we need to split apart, so one can distract while the other attacks.’
‘I’ll need eyes then. Can’t use yours if we’re splitting up.’
‘Who?’
‘Taine, if he will. And we need to be Ghabal’s size.’
‘You have a plan?’
‘Take me to Taine, then go round to the north-east but stay this side of the walls. We don’t want Ghabal taking any more short cuts across the city.’
‘Then?’
‘We make it up as we go along.’
As soon as Iriana and Corisand had returned to their companions, who still waited on the hilltop that overlooked the city, the Wizard wasted no time. ‘Taryn?’
‘Lady?’ The black stallion changed to his human shape so fast that Iriana blinked in surprise.
‘You and Aelwen get the Xandim back out of danger. Yinze, go with them—’ She looked around for her brother, only to find that he had vanished. ‘Where in perdition is Yinze?’
‘He went to help Avithan when the Moldan came,’ Taryn said. ‘We couldn’t stop him.’