Heritage Of The Xandim

by Maggie Furey

Night had fallen. The form of the eagle melted back into the glimmering swathes of Aurora’s many colours that stretched across the star-scattered sky in streaming curtains of coruscating light; great looping, twisting ropes of rainbow hues that undulated across the firmament like smoke. One of these streams of radiance swirled down to where Corisand and Iriana stood upon the bridge of air, and coiled about them. Strange buzzes, crackles and a sound like distant thunder reverberated through them as they were lifted gently into the sky, and they could feel the tides of energy and power surging through their bodies, linking them to the Evanesar with bonds of magic.

  With Taku’s farewells ringing in their ears, they learned what it was like to fly with Aurora.

  As they looked down, the world was tinted with shifting, drifting shades: red and purple, gold and green and blue. The lakes and mountains passed beneath them, and they swooped down across the ocean, then turned northward up the coast with its forested inlets, its clusters of tiny offshore islands and the glaciers tracing glittering paths from the mountains to the coast. And all around them, the colours of the world kept shimmering, flowing, changing. They flew high upon wings of wonder over a land of heart-wrenching beauty, the memory of which would remain bright and precious to the ending of their days.

  It seemed forever, yet somehow was only an instant, before they found themselves drifting earthwards once again. In the distance, another range of mountains descended like a barrier to the coast, and both of them knew, without being told, that there lay their destination. Aurora set them gently down, both of them breathless and bright-eyed with the wonder of it all. ‘Farewell,’ she said. ‘May good fortune attend you. Remember, the futures of many races, not just your own, hang on what you will do next.’

  With that she vanished. The sun lifted its head over the land, turning the mountains to rose, the sea to burnished copper and the sky to gold.

  ‘Well, thank you for that, Aurora,’ Iriana grumbled. ‘You’ve made me feel so much better.’

  Corisand smiled. ‘We’re an unlikely pair to be holding the fates of entire races in our hands.’

  ‘It’s like the stories we used to read when we were children - the unlikely heroine saves the world,’ Iriana replied. ‘There are times when I can scarcely believe we’re doing this - I keep thinking that I’ll wake up in my bed in Tyrineld, and everything will have been a dream.’ She sighed. ‘I only wish a lot of what happened had been a dream. Losing Esmon and Avithan, not to mention my poor, dear animals. All my life I read those old tales, looking through the eyes of one creature or another, and I longed for all those amazing things to happen to me. But those stories didn’t say enough about the dark side of adventures: the conflict, privation and loss. Or maybe they did, and I was so desperate for something exciting to happen in my life that I just wasn’t paying enough attention.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about any old stories,’ Corisand said stoutly. ‘In my childhood I was only a foal among other foals. When the dark things happen, I sometimes wish I had never become the Windeye, with the sheer crushing frustration and responsibility of it all. But then I think about all the wonders I have seen, such as our journey with Aurora; the incredible things I can do, and the friends I’ve made.’ She squeezed Iriana’s hand. ‘Then I know I could never go back to the old way - and do you know what? Neither could you.’

  The Wizard’s shoulders straightened. ‘In Tyrineld I was caged and thwarted; smothered by the loving care of well-meaning but misguided folk. And you’re right. You’re absolutely right. No matter what the cost, I couldn’t go back to that either.’ She took a deep breath. ‘So - we’d better go forward.’

  She looked at the rugged, rocky coastline stretching far ahead, with the wide river mouths, the tumbled boulders big as houses, the uprooted trees piled haphazardly along the waterline like a giant’s game of jack-straws, the glaciers that dropped into the ocean as precipitous cliffs of solid ice, all the coves and firths that would double the distance they had to travel. ‘My, but this is going to be interesting.’

  Corisand shrugged. ‘Well, we’re not going to get there just by looking at it.’ She strode forward. ‘I had better cut myself a staff like yours and—’

  ‘Wait, wait.’ Iriana tugged at her arm. ‘Maybe there’s a better way.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You remember how you made that bridge of air, back at the lake?’ Iriana spoke quickly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Well, what about building another one that will take us right up the coast, over all these obstacles?’

  Corisand thought for a moment. ‘There would probably have to be a series of smaller bridges - I don’t think my power will stretch all that way in one go - but it should be possible. There’s only one thing that worries me: what happens if Hellorin attacks again while we’re on the bridge? We’d be fearfully exposed and vulnerable up there. And if he forces me to fight, or even just defend myself, it could shatter my concentration. The bridge will disintegrate and we’ll both fall.’

  ‘Plague on it,’ Iriana said. ‘It was such a good idea. But maybe . . . Wait a minute, let me think.’ She turned and stood looking out to sea, while Corisand fidgeted impatiently, anxious to be gone.

  Then: ‘I know!’ the Wizard shouted. She turned back, grinning with excitement and talking very fast. ‘Why does it have to be a bridge at all? You could make a boat, couldn’t you? I read in my studies at the Academy that the Old Magic cannot cross water, so we’d even be safe from Hellorin ...’ Her words ran down into silence as she saw the Windeye’s face. ‘What’s wrong, Corisand? Why are you looking at me as if I’ve gone mad?’

  ‘What’s a boat?’

  Iriana blinked. ‘What do you mean, what’s a boat? They float, on the water. They can be big or small and people travel on them. You must know—’

  ‘I grew up as a horse, in a forest, in the mountains far inland,’ the Windeye pointed out. ‘How the bloody blazes am I supposed to know what a boat is?’

  The Wizard burst out laughing. ‘I never thought of that,’ she confessed. ‘It already feels as if I’ve known you forever. It seems incredible that our backgrounds should be so different - and yet before we came here to the Elsewhere, I only knew you in the form of a horse.’

  ‘Trust me - my background is different from anyone you’ll ever meet.’ Corisand joined in the laughter. ‘Now, suppose you explain to me exactly what this boat thing is?’

  It took them a while to work it out between them. Iriana, concentrating hard, put the image of a little single-masted sailing boat into the Windeye’s mind, and Corisand worked and manipulated the fresh sea breeze to duplicate the design. When it was done, it looked beautiful, glistening like spun silver and riding lightly on the water like a swan.

  Nevertheless . . . ‘It’s just as well the thing is made from air and magic, and not real wood,’ the Wizard said, surveying it critically, ‘or it would never float.’

  ‘So long as my magic holds it together, it should be all right.’ Corisand sounded doubtful. ‘Maybe we’d better try to keep close to the shore, just in case.’

  ‘Good plan. Well, shall we?’ Iriana bowed and gestured to the Windeye. ‘After you.’

  ‘No, after you.’

  ‘Let’s go together.’

  36

  ON A KNIFE EDGE

  From the air, in the strong noon sunlight, the graceful, soaring towers of Eliorand glittered like a cresting wave that poured down the face of the steep hillside. Notwithstanding the beauty, Aelwen viewed the sight with mixed feelings. Three nights before, when she and Kelon had made their desperate bid to escape, she had never expected to see the city again. On the one hand, it lifted her heart to return to her birthplace, her home and her beloved horses. On the other, she was sick with trepidation. Having finally made the difficult decision to leave, it felt like a mistake to be returning. Everything was different now. Her entire life had been a lie.

  She had lain sleepless at Taine’s side throughout the previous nig
ht. It saddened her that Kelon, who had been her friend for so many years, had parted from her on such bad terms, but that choice had been his to make. Worse was the sick feeling inside her, because now that she knew the Xandim were not mere beasts after all, it cast her own life in a very different light. All the while she had been thinking of herself as their caretaker and nurturer, she had been nothing but a gaoler.

  It shook her life right down to the foundations.

  The shining city below concealed so many shadows: rivalry, envy, lust and betrayal. Murder. Aelwen had sense enough to know that not all the evil would have vanished with Ferimon’s death. How many of his supporters remained down there? How would they react to the news that he was dead? And the Forest Lord still had his realm’s loyalty. Now that she herself was returning in a traitor’s role, the Horsemistress knew that she would have enemies on every side. Many years ago, Hellorin had put a price on Taine’s head, and there were plenty of folk in the city with long memories. Would Tiolani be able to protect him, and was she strong enough to return and take back her rule? More to the point, could she be trusted?

  Well, Aelwen thought, as they began their descent into the palace, we’re about to find out.

  Their approach had clearly been spotted. In the absence of Tiolani, the Phaerie were without flying magic, so no one came to meet them, but the wide plaza was thronged with members of the court, and many were still swarming like brightly coloured ants out of the great carved doors. Even at this distance, Aelwen could hear their cries of relief and puzzlement. Among the gay rainbow hues, however, she also saw the shimmer of silver mail, and the bright flashes of sunlight on keen-edged swords, and her stomach clenched in trepidation. As they landed, the Phaerie scattered to give the horses room, and into the resulting gap stepped Cordain, with a troop of soldiers at his back. You could take them for an honour guard, Aelwen thought. If you were that stupid.

  Beside her, she felt Taine stiffen, and from the corner of her eye she registered his hand inching towards his weapon. But her attention was fixed on Cordain’s face. Dismay and annoyance, she saw there - and, more significantly, guilt. He’d believed Tiolani to be dead. He had been counting on it. When she first came to power, she had removed him from his exalted position of Chief Counsellor and put Ferimon in his place, so he held a grudge, but it was more than that. The girl had turned out to be an unstable, unpredictable killer. Aelwen understood completely why, as the Forest Lord’s oldest friend and most loyal vassal, Cordain had decided that the Phaerie would be better off without her.

  Cordain stepped forward, his smile as false as the grinning of a skull. ‘My dearest Lady, we had despaired of your life. We are all delighted to welcome you back. You must be exhausted after your terrible ordeal.’ He took her arm, to outward appearances all solicitude and courtesy. In reality, his fingers were like bands of steel, grinding flesh into bone. Tiolani, instinctively about to strike back, suddenly found herself surrounded by the putative honour guard. When she saw the drawn weapons and the clear, merciless intent in their eyes, she turned pale, and went very still. Aelwen and Taine found themselves similarly surrounded.

  ‘Come, Lady,’ Cordain said again. ‘You will want the comfort of your quarters. And I am sure we can also find some comfortable accommodation for your companions.’

  Aelwen cursed herself for not having anticipated this. Though she had thought that Hellorin’s daughter might experience some resistance to her rule, she had not expected such cold-blooded treachery from Cordain, of all people. But with Ferimon dead, Tiolani was suddenly vulnerable, and the wolves were closing in.

  We’ve failed, she thought. Even before we’ve started, we’ve failed. Even if, by some miracle, they could turn this disaster around and return Tiolani to power, they would still lose valuable time - maybe even long enough for Hellorin’s healers to bring him back from the brink and undo the time spells. Even if Corisand and Iriana succeeded in taking the Fialan, he could follow them back to the mundane world.

  The consequences were unthinkable.

  Then Cordain noticed Taine, and Aelwen saw cold recognition flash across his face. Her heart began to race with fear.

  He was Hellorin’s loyal supporter. He would obey the Forest Lord’s orders, no matter how many years ago they had been given.

  Unless she could think of something fast to get them out of this, Taine was as good as dead already.

  When Corisand and Iriana shimmered out of sight, Dael found himself alone with Athina once more. For a precious instant, everything seemed back as it should be - then the Cailleach gave a little gasp and crumpled, grey-faced, to the ground.

  ‘Athina!’ Sick with fear, Dael knelt beside her.

  ‘Help me.’ Her voice was a thready whisper. ‘Get me back to your chamber, Dael. My power is fading fast. I must leave now.’

  Though in his head he had known and accepted that this moment must come, his heart felt as if it were being ripped out of his chest.

  ‘Now, Dael. Hurry.’ He heard the desperation in her voice, saw the shadow of fear in her eyes - and put his own fear and grief aside.

  For her.

  She weighed next to nothing as he scooped her up into his arms and ran back to the tower, scrambling and stumbling as fast as he could up the airy spiral of the metal stairs. Shouldering open the door of his chamber, he carried Athina to the bed where Avithan lay and sat her on the edge, with an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

  She held on to him, dropping her head to his shoulder. ‘You’ve been a son to me.’ Her voice was fading now. ‘Before you, the only joy I knew was that of creation; the only sorrow that of setting my creations free when I was done. You taught me how to feel. How to love. I love you, my Dael. Down all the endless stretches of eternity, I will always love you.’

  Even as his eyes blurred with tears, Athina was gone.

  Where she and Avithan had been was just an empty bed in an empty room, in an empty world. Deal buried his face in the coverlet, and wept.

  Athina found herself lying on the floor because she was too weak to stand, and blinded by her tears. She needed no vision to tell her that she was back home, in her Tree in the Heart of the Wood. She could feel its life and power pulsating through her in the same way as it pumped in shining streams through the walls of the massive hollow trunk.

  Suddenly there was no more urgency. Here beneath the Timeless Lake, she had all the time in the world. Athina simply lay there, letting home restore the power and the energies she had lost, and wept for Dael, the child of her heart that she would see no more.

  ‘Your folly astounds me.’ The harsh voice that broke through her weariness and grief belonged to Uriel. Once more he had taken his favourite form, a column of scintillating, multicoloured energy - a beautiful sight, but one that could not have been less welcome to Athina, in that moment. She scrambled to her feet, thankful that she was beginning to regain her strength. She had not yet recovered enough power to withstand Uriel - but did he know that? She took her natural form once more, her face growing leaner and more raptor-like, her eyes taking on the fierce, wild, golden glare of the eagle. ‘What do you want now?’ she snarled. ‘I did as you asked, Uriel. I have returned - and your involvement ends here. Get out of my home.’

  The soft hum of Uriel’s energy rose to a threatening buzz. ‘Oh, you did as I asked, my sister - after you had done as you wished, and only when you finally had no choice. And even now, you persist in this insane involvement with your primitive creation.’ He drifted across to the still form of Avithan, who had lain, until this moment, unregarded on the floor. ‘What is this?’

  The Cailleach stepped between her angry sibling and the Wizard’s helpless form. ‘What I do in my own place is my own affair. I owe you no explanations. As you demanded, I have left the mundane world and my involvement there has ceased. You have triumphed.’ She could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘Now be content and go.’

  ‘Athina, I am not your enemy.’ His voice was edged
with frustration, and a rumble of thunder sounded overhead as his temper frayed. With an effort he brought himself back under control. ‘My dearest sister, I am simply trying to warn you, and to help you. You, of all our brethren, were always the most prone to being ruled by your emotions. Now they have led you to a forbidden place, and as a result, your perceptions have become skewed. Do you truly not see the danger here? That in acting to prevent your premonitions from coming true, you might have been instrumental in bringing about the dreadful future you foresaw?’

  ‘No! That cannot be. I went to stop it. The Phaerie are the chief danger, but if the Xandim are freed, their power will be cut off at the knees. I needed to warn and help the three who will be pivotal to the fate of the world.’

  ‘And in helping the Wizard and the Windeye, you have risked them bringing an artefact of unspeakable power out of the Elsewhere, where it belonged, and into the mundane world.’

  ‘They will use it to avert the disaster, not to bring it about. With the Fialan gone from the Elsewhere, Hellorin will be imprisoned there for good, and one of the greatest dangers to the world will have been removed.’