Riders Of The Winds

by Jack L. Chalker

  She had just the right image, which was why the fake origin was picked, but there was still a real risk. Agents of Klittichorn might not know her appearance very well, all things considered, but Crim had had that run-in with Zamofir who had told him pretty much everything, and somebody was certain to be suspicious of the fact that the Navigator had now suddenly left his train and was heading in a general westerly direction in the company of a Kudaanese woman.

  Sam came back up from the woods near where they camped to see Kira checking supplies. "Something up?" Sam asked her.

  Kira nodded. "The hub's filling with all sorts of strange and not-so-strange faces," she told her. "There's also a rough sketch of your face making the rounds, unofficially. It's not very accurate or very good but it won't stop them from looking hard at every—heavy—young woman they come across. You look different but it's a no-questions-asked reward and many won't bother to ask questions. A number of short, fat women have been reported disappearing, and the police and militia here are as corrupt as the rest. We have what we need and we've been here long enough. Once we get into the colonies on the other side they'll have a hard time finding us. There are just too many possibilities, even if they know our direction. It's only in the hubs that we have to really worry. Get a good night's sleep. How are you feeling?"

  "Pretty good," Sam told her, " 'cept it seems like I got to pee every twenty minutes. Maybe that's the price of girls havin' muscles. I dunno. Why do you ask?"

  "Because this is still a big place and it's our turf, as it were. We have as many people bought here as they do and we know the land better. That's why we haven't run into ugly scenes so far. But those who hunt us know that as well, and they also know that the one place we have to show up is at the exits. There are only eight possibilities there and you can bet that there's a ton of people looking over the most likely exit points and enough looking even at the out-of-the-way ones."

  "Can't you just avoid the guard posts?"

  "Not without ditching the wagon as well and cutting our way through fencing. Then we'd have to take random choice on whichever colonial 'petal' was up and we'd be reported there sooner or later by any officials or Guild trains we might meet. And, going west and north, we're going to be out of our normal and familiar grounds ourselves, and that means we have to watch it. Some of these places are pretty dangerous."

  Sam looked at her. "You got any bright ideas?"

  Kira shook her head. "No, and I've been thinking of little else. Maybe Crim will come up with something in the morning."

  "The problem," said Crim, "is the wagon and supplies. Two of us on horseback wouldn't have much trouble sneaking out of here, although we'd have to take pot luck on which petal happened to be up. When you start getting into unfamiliar territory, though, it's best to stick close to the main roads and have the bare essentials with you, and for this type of journey I don't want to ditch the wagon and head for the hills until we have to. The worst thing this rebellion business has done is to bury honor. There are lots of possible friends and allies out there but we can take none of them for granted. That means going legitimate whenever we can. And that means going right through one of these checkpoints."

  She stared at the map. "What about doing a go-'round?" she mused aloud. "I mean, you go through there, alone, with the wagon, and I go through on the side, here, by cuttin' through the fence and meet up with you out in the misty zone. I know there's bound to be a border checkpoint wherever we're goin', but there's a pretty long distance between the hub and the colony."

  He shook his head. "No, it's not that easy. First of all, they stamp your identity papers when you go through. Yours wouldn't have the exit stamp."

  "Then maybe I go all the way myself. You know, like paralleling you, keepin' you in sight but off a bit. I sneak in the other side when you bring up the right world and meet on the other side of the border."

  He frowned. "I don't like it. First of all, that's over forty leegs to cross, and you'd have to be pretty far off me to avoid being seen. Maybe a lot of magicians could make a horse invisible but I never got that far in the course. Second, things seem to have a way of happening to you. If we get separated at this point and you wind up in some other, nastier world all alone, I might never find you, and while I wouldn't help the other side on a bet I'm doing this for profit, remember."

  She was undaunted. "The big thing is just to be close enough to you to be sure I can get over to you but without them guys seein' me on either side. How close could I get in that mist without gettin' caught up in the wrong world?"

  "Fairly close. You can see where the connection is made because the mist doesn't sparkle and it's darker. Why?"

  "Well, why can't I try it on foot? I got myself built up pretty good."

  He sighed. "That's not across the street, you know. I know you've been running a few leegs a day and walking more, but it'll take you some time to make it that far. Too risky."

  "Not near as risky as goin' through a hole where there's bound to be a bunch of tough guys waitin' for me who'll take no chances, maybe with the guards lookin' the other way and you with a bullet in your head. Uh-uh. I been in that crap before. It ain't so bad. Just gimme a canteen of water and some candy for energy and I'll make it. You said it yourself—once we get clear over there we'll be harder to catch, and once we cross out of this turkey of a kingdom it'll be even harder."

  He still wasn't convinced. "That's the region where two alien air masses meet, remember. There are always clouds and sometimes storms. If they get any idea at all that you're there, the Stormriders will be on you."

  She thought about it. "What are these Stormriders?"

  "Creatures. Some say they used to be warrior magicians who went too deep into the black side of their arts and became inhuman. Others think they're renegade demons. Whatever, they're Klittichorn's protective guard and they're fiercely loyal to him."

  "Can they be killed?"

  He shrugged. "Nobody knows. Unlike the Sudogs, which are minor spirits requiring the storm's energy to feed them and the clouds to give them shape, they're independent and only draw additional energy from the storms. They can exist by day but are far more powerful by night. I've seen one, once—-there aren't many of them, but you don't want to meet them."

  She fumbled and brought up the white cotton hood. "Well, with this on and short as I am I ought'a be pretty hard to see in daylight, and if they got less power then it's when we should cross. I'll take a pistol and a spear. The spear's light enough to carry easy and I'm gettin' pretty good with one. And don't worry so much. Up to now I been a pretty naive kid lettin' other folks and events push me around. Now it's my turn. How in hell am I gonna take on that Storm Princess or anybody else with power if I can't even manage this?"

  It was a good point. "Okay, then, we'll adjust to camp just before the border tonight. That'll give us a chance to see what we're up against. If it looks in any way bad, then you'll be off just before dawn. I can't give you but a few hours' head start, though, or I won't get across in daylight at the speed I can go with this rig, and I can't stall much in bringing up Briche, which is the land we're going to use. You must be there when I get there. Understand?"

  She nodded. "I understand. What's this Briche like?"

  "Not too bad. Heavily forested, a number of small towns and one or two big trading centers, but pretty peaceful. The natives are formidable-looking, I'm told, with hair all over. They're supposed to look something like giant apes only with a more human build. Civilized, though, and pretty peaceful, really. I was warned not to eat with them, though. Among other things, they make soups and pastes out of hordes of insects and flavor them with tree leaves and grasses."

  "Yuck."

  "There's also a lot of fog and rain in there, but seldom a thunderstorm. As soon as you enter start heading for the road and come into it as close as you dare. It's pretty easy to get lost fast in a forest, particularly when you can't see the sun and you don't know all the rules in force there."

&nbs
p; She nodded. "Let's do it, then. And I'll put in extra hours today gettin' myself up for this."

  The edge of any of the worlds of Akahlar was always an eerie sight no matter how many times you saw it. The land just ended, and below and stretching out far into the distance was a flat plainlike region covered with a thick white mist that rose perhaps three or four feet from the ground, and within which were little flashes like hidden Christmas lights turning randomly on and off under the white shroud. In the distance, on the other side, you could see another land rising up out of it, but every few minutes that land would change. Where there were mountains there were suddenly valleys, and where there were farms there might now be the shore of a vast sea. It was almost never sunshine on a border, either; clouds always boiled and churned as two alien and incompatible air masses met but, somehow, did not quite mix.

  From time to time there'd be a crossover of insects or birds or other such things, even rarely some plant spores, but nothing actually lived for long in the transition zone. There was nothing really to feed or nurture life, and nothing at all would grow there.

  A small wire cutter was the only thing needed to breach the long fence that surrounded the hub. It wasn't really there to keep people in or out; those who were not of the Akhbreed were prevented from entering by the spells of the chief Akhbreed sorcerer. Crim and Kira could enter and leave the hubs only because they were truly two different people who were both Akhbreed. The spell might exclude a curse or change wind-induced departure from the norm, but when Crim entered he was just Crim to it.

  The fence was basically there to bar wild animals who might wander across from getting in, and as a political statement. Colonial races who could not enter a hub could never attack, let alone overthrow, a seat of power.

  Kira was as dubious about all this as Crim had been, but just a casual visit to the border station convinced the both of them that this was the only way. Mashtopol was corrupt as hell; the guards had a picture of the Storm Princess herself hung in their entry station, and around and nearby were a number of shifty types apparently idling in the area for no particular reason. So it was that Sam, when it was just turning light enough to really see but before dawn broke, had received a kiss and hug for luck from Kira and slipped through the opening in the fence and down onto the mist-covered floor. It felt as wet and spongy as she remembered it, but it was firm enough. The far horizon was still dark, although you could occasionally see isolated lights here and there when one or another world would come up. Looking back from perhaps half a mile, Sam could see the lights of the entry station for the hub, and even farther out that glow always kept her oriented.

  As the sun rose she conserved her pace and repressed the urge to sprint or hurry along. Forty leegs was about twenty miles, give or take.

  Once she felt she was out of sight of any but someone looking directly at her through field glasses, she stopped and removed all her clothes and put them in the small backpack Kira had fashioned for her. Better not to have to deal with a skirt and top until you had to.

  Crim had worried about her ability to cross in the needed time, but she was having no trouble and feeling very proud of herself for that. The big problem, which they'd also discussed, was the lack of a far reference point in the ever-shifting landscapes beyond. That meant, as soon as it was fully as lit as the cloud-shrouded nether-region ever got, picking an area on the fixed hub and checking back every once in a while to keep herself in line with it. She picked an odd-shaped bluff just beyond the entry station that was shaped kind of like the face of a fat guy doing a big pout. It was fairly easy for a while, but the farther across she got the harder it was to make out that feature or distinguish it from the other bluffs and crags of Mashtopol's end. She began to get a little worried and disoriented as now the far "shore" appeared closer, and she slowed to an easy walk.

  Ahead of her now was the shore of a vast ocean, filling the horizon and making orientation even more difficult. There was no entry station in sight, either, which didn't mean much. If you were coming along here you'd better have a boat waiting or you'd be stuck anyway.

  She took a drink and decided to walk diagonally to her right and wait for something better to use. She was walking for some time when the scene flipped, showing some barren, yellowed hills leading down to an ugly-looking lake. The air coming from it reached her, smelling foul, sort of rotten-egg type, and both hot and humid. She could hardly wait for that one to be out of the way.

  Suddenly she heard noises of animals and equipment and shouts of people and stopped dead. For a moment she couldn't see them, but then, suddenly, they were there, coming almost right at her! One of the wagon trains, damn it! She was too far over, maybe right between the two stations!

  There wasn't a whole hell of a lot of time, but she dashed back the way she came at top speed and the sprint, after all the rest, finally got her winded and feeling a bit dizzy. She collapsed to her knees, breathing hard, and tried to let the mist cover her, peeking up just enough to see how close they'd come to her.

  It was pretty damned close. The outriders on this side almost trampled her, and she could see the wagons clearly and the people in them. This was one of the passenger types like she'd started out with, and it contained a fair number of families and tough-looking men and women dressed in various garb. One man sat on a wagon seat holding a furry creature that seemed all eyes and teeth. The thing seemed to sense her presence and its cold eyes looked where she was, then as the wagon got closest it tried to leap from the man's grasp and come after her. Instinctively, she grabbed the spear and crouched down.

  My god, it's all mouth! she thought nervously.

  But the man held on, and the pet or watchdoglike thing or whatever it was finally gave up.

  Then the train stopped. The Navigator, she knew, was going to pull his magic trick, not tremendous as the sorcerer's went but one hell of a trick nonetheless. She turned and watched it, always fascinated.

  The scene changed. First slowly, then more quickly, worlds flashed by, mountains rose and fell, seas stretched out and receded, trees grew and then shrunk, summer turned to snow and then to torrential rains. Suddenly it slowed again, settling on a peaceful-looking meadowland with lots of flowers and gum trees and plenty of green. It looked like a pretty nice place, and off in the distance the sky was even blue.

  There was a series of shouts echoing up and down the train and then, slowly, it began to move once again, off the mist and onto a nicely maintained road, and within ten or fifteen minutes tops the whole train was out of transition and into the new world.

  Almost immediately after the traditionally buckskin-clad Navigator made his final checks and rode in himself, the world was lost, but this time not to just another scene. Like a deck of playing cards bent partway at a cut point to expose a single card and then let go, the rest of the worlds held there now began to snap back as the vast worlds piled upon worlds of Akahlar sought equilibrium once again. Scenes, whole worlds, flashed by, dark, light, cold, hot, wet, dry—all the combinations, going by too fast for the eye to gain more than a general impression of the place before it was gone. She had never seen this end result of a Navigator's magic before and was fascinated by it.

  Suddenly, all around her, was the sound of thunder very close, and lightning split the heavens again and again. She whirled and looked up to see ominous black clouds and a tremendous display of energy, and then something else before sheets of pouring rain hit her. There were things up there! Things with great, leathery wings and heads on long necks that looked like chisel-points, with glowing coals for eyes, atop which were strange, wraithlike giants in saddles riding them as if they were horses. The riders were transparent, outlined by pulsating borders of energy that seemed to form both body and some semblance of armor.

  Stormriders! Made visible by the Navigator's work and all the turbulence it set up and now drawing on that tremendous energy.

  The rain was still driving, but the lightning was no longer striking the ground but rathe
r seeking out those great black things with their ethereal riders, who grew brighter and more horrible as they absorbed each bolt.

  She dropped down below the mist, the rain so hard it was almost stinging her, afraid to look up, afraid that one of those things up there would instead look down and spot her with those cold, empty outlined eyes. Above, there came the noise of horrible screeching that pierced even the noise of the storm as the ghastly black mounts screamed their defiance of storm and all else in creation.

  And the strange thing was, she didn't have to see. In her mind, throughout her body, she felt the storm and its deadly occupants in ways she could never explain, almost as if she and the storms were one and the riders were tearing at her. Somehow, she and the storm were one, and she felt almost violated that they were draining the energy from her even as she lay there, frightened. She wanted to lash out at them, order them to stop, or, at least, to divert some of that energy to herself, but she dared not. If they knew, if they so much as sensed, that she was there or anywhere about then the talons of the leathery-winged creatures would be upon her in an instant.

  It seemed to rain for an eternity, although it probably wasn't more than a few minutes, but even after it tapered off suddenly, then stopped, she lay there, in what was now a couple of inches of water, listening for more of those screeches and afraid to stick her head up.

  There was a slight but steady current to the water, and it began to recede quickly, going off towards the nearby land. Soon there was little left, save that the ground was kind of squishy, like a sponge, and oozed water wherever it was pressed.

  After a while, she knew she had to risk looking, and fumbled in her now thoroughly soaked pack for the white hood that might give her a little extra camouflage. It was soaked through, but so was she, and she wrapped it around her head and then, very cautiously, peeked up.

  She could still see them, but they were not close and seemed to be going away from her. She decided not to move, though, or do anything, so long as any of them were in sight, and the clouds, going back to their usual swirling gray, now seemed more menacing, as her mind feared a great black shape with an electrified neon warrior atop it hovering just above, waiting . . .