The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2)

by Elizabeth Kerner

  I shivered, not with cold. For I had found her, in all the great world I had found her in a matter of days. That was sickeningly not right. What was guiding me? What was pushing me, and why?

  I shivered again as a pain cramped across my gut. Oh dear Goddess, sweet Lady Shia—ahhh!

  Oh Hells' teeth. The pain hit me worse every time I prayed, or even thought sincerely of Shia—a spasm clenched me even as I realised.

  I drew in my power again, ignoring the weakness that demanded I stop at the appearance of the merest nimbus. I am a Healer of the third rank, I can heal broken bones in minutes, knit torn flesh, relieve fevers—I. had saved Lanen's life when she was very near to death indeed.

  It was a struggle, but finally at least a useful portion of my corona surrounded me. I gathered my courage as I had gathered my power and looked with the healing sight into my own body.

  I spewed forth my meagre meal and kept heaving long after there was nothing more to come. No one should have to see that in themselves. Oh Mother, oh kind and blessed Lady of the ground below and the water around and the moon in her gentleness above, keep me man alive long enough to fight back.

  Wrapped around my gut, with claws in my spine and a spiked tail flicking back and forth, was a demon. I had not called it, I had not allowed it into my soul much less my body, it had been put there against my will. By Berys, of course.

  I had heard of such things, but I had never believed that it could—it never happens to you, does it? It was a Sending. A major demonwork that cost the summoner dear one way or another, but not nearly as much as it cost the chosen host.

  There was no way to be rid of the thing. It was the cause and the force behind the compulsion that had made no sense. I didn't know why Berys wanted me to track Lanen, to be near her when she stopped, but I "knew" it was something I had to do. No, I corrected myself. It was something that Berys, through the demon, wanted me to do.

  The only way to be rid of a Sending is to kill it where it sits, but the victim cannot do it for himself, for the demon will sense the threat and stop the muscles from completing it. If I could not find anyone to kill it for me, I would simply have to wait for it to become active and kill me when it emerged. A Sending is death one way or another. For me, it would have to be the worse of the two.

  It was a terrible moment, that realisation, alone in the cold on that barren hillside, without even the comfort of a fire. But I resolved the very next instant, with every fibre of my being, with all the strength of my soul, that I would fight its every move and deny it to the limit of my strength. That might not last very long, but every delay was a gain, a victory over that which would destroy me in the end no matter what I tried to do. At the least I would go down fighting.

  I had just made that decision when a wave of unbearable pain swept through me and I fell senseless to the ground.

  I dreamt of fire and darkness.

  Salera

  When the sky darkened I left them. Every moment with Him was a joy, but I was called also to be with my brothers and sisters. I ran for a little time when I left them until I found a good jumping-off place, and then I flew high in the dying light until I crossed the sharp teeth of stone and came again to the high field where we had gathered.

  I knew joy at seeing them again, so many of us in one place. More had come even in the last few days. I had never dreamed there were so many of us. I remember looking to see if any of the Hollow Ones had come, but I saw none. I greeted those I had flown with, those I knew best of these my newfound kinfolk.

  We did not know why we were there, it was joy to be together, but we did not wonder at the "why." I tried to shape sound at some of them. I spoke the sound that was me, and the impossible sound that was Him, and tried again the noise of the Silver One who wore the wrong body. I think some tried to speak after me, but we were not used to such things and it was so hard then.

  I looked up at the moon, older now and moving towards the full, and smiled at the smiling face that gazed down at me. They would come, the next day they would come, and all would be well. I drank, and slept, and missed Him even while I dreamed in the midst of my own people.

  Will

  Salera left us at twilight on the second day, but I watched her hurrying upwards and guessed we'd meet her at the pass. We had made good time—the shelter of the high field was no more than a long morning's walk from here. It would be a good place to stop, and from there it was an easy day's journey to Rowanbeck.

  Jamie, Rella and I were in the lead, mounted when the road was not too steep, leading the horses when it was. The two of them divided their time between bouts of scouting ahead and around, and bouts of old-fashioned chattering. They had both done a great deal with their lives and I was happy enough simply to listen much of the time.

  I hadn't forgotten the two in my care. Aral quite happily spent the journey walking with me, walking with Vilkas, and pestering Varien and Lanen. Their story amazed her and she spoke to them about it as long as they could bear. Lanen eventually had enough and sent her away, kindly but firmly. Aral didn't seem to mind.

  The one I worried about was Vilkas. He had kept to himself even more than usual, and even Aral had trouble getting through to him at first. Aral had told me what had happened, that Vil had managed to tap into some of the great store of power that he hid even from himself. It seemed to me a cause for rejoicing, but Vilkas seemed to spend an awful long time thinking about it.

  By the time we lit a fire that night I found myself shivering, deep inside. I was pleased to be going home but there was more to it than that. I couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation or just plain cold, but as the night went on every part of me took up the shaking. I felt like a bee sounds in a clover field. It wasn't anything you could see, but it kept me awake most of the night. I wasn't the only one.

  Vilkas

  I walked along in silence for most of the journey. I was aware of a growing wrongness in the air and almost mentioned it, but I have learned over the years to conceal my feelings. I could have been mistaken. It might simply have been the altitude. Besides, I was in the midst of trying to understand so much all at once that I might only have been sensing my own roiling emotions. Aral spent a little time with me, enough to realise that I was restraining myself. She occasionally dropped back to walk with me in companionable silence, for which I was grateful, and once she muttered something along the lines of "You're doing well, Vil. I know it's hard, but best to wait until we can stop for a while." It did not make things any easier, but it was gratifying that she was aware of my self-control.

  In fact she had no idea how controlled I really was. It had been simple enough for her to tell me to let loose my power that night, but I was the one who had actually done it. The thought still made me shake inside.

  I had dared to harness the sky god, or forced me Death of the World to do something useful if you looked at it that way. I had undone the work of a decade to meet Lanen's desperate need, and not only had both the world and I survived, it had worked.

  I was still in a kind of shock. It was not possible to do what I had done. I had changed that woman's blood to some unheard-of mixture of human and dragon and she was still alive. That wasn't possible. I felt that I was walking simultaneously in two worlds, the one that surrounded me at the moment, and the other in which reason had its way and she lost the children or died or both. Those were the only possible outcomes of her condition. At best I might have helped her to live, but the babes would die and life would go on.

  That hadn't happened. I had let loose more of my power that night man I had dared to use for many years and the woman lived and would bear her children. What they might become I could not imagine, but that they would live was my responsibility.

  Deep within me, where I could just bear to listen to it now, arose the thought that I might just be able to accept my power and use it, all of it—

  All of it —and choose the way of the sky god after all. Lanen was a good person. With just a portion of t
hat power I had kept her and her children alive and healthy.

  What is the point of being the Death of the World in any case?

  There's never anyone around to see you succeed.

  By the time we camped the second night I had come to my own peace with what had happened, but I appeared to be in the minority. Will volunteered to take the first watch and we let him; anyone could see he had no chance of sleeping. Lanen and Varien weren't far behind. Only Rella and Jamie seemed to sleep well that night. I wondered if anyone's conscience could be that clear.

  Aral had come and sat beside me when the fire was starting to die down. "Vil, I know you feel it," she said softly. "What in all the Hells is going on?"

  "If I knew that I'd do my damnedest to do something about it so I could get some rest," I replied. "I've been trying to ignore the lot of you for hours now. You are a dear friend, Aral, but please, I haven't recovered yet from that healing session." It was a polite lie, but still it was better than simply asking her to go away. She raised an eyebrow at me, expressed dubious sympathy and left.

  I lay down and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the atmosphere. Ever try to sleep through a night filled with a wildly raging wind? It was much the same thing.

  Lanen

  Dawn couldn't come too soon. I had managed a few hours' sleep at the tail end of the night, but I woke feeling more weary than when I went to sleep and Varien wasn't much better. The misty grey morning didn't help any of us— we all woke slightly damp and a lot colder than we had been. Will had kept the fire going all night, which was a blessing. I wondered how he managed—he said he hadn't had a wink of sleep but he seemed more alert than the rest of us.

  Oh—except for the old campaigners. Rella woke with her usual stiff back, which Jamie was learning to loosen; he said his side was paining him, but I caught his eye. "You're just out for any sympathy going," I said, laughing at him over my second mug of chelan.

  "You know me too well," he said, stretching. "Next time I'm leaving you behind."

  I would have kept on teasing him but to my astonishment Idai's voice interrupted me. "Varien? Lanen? May I bespeak you?"

  "Of course, Idai," replied Varien, who had taken to wearing his circlet at all times. "What is the trouble I hear in your thoughts?"

  "Have you heard from Hadreshikrar?" she asked, and now even I could hear the concern in her mind-voice. "I bespoke him just now and I heard him begin to respond, but after that came only silence."

  "I have heard nothing, Lady," said Varien. I was staring at him, completely confused, but he took my hand and muttered aloud, "Not now, I will tell you in a moment."

  "I take it you fear for him," he added in truespeech.

  "He should have been there by now, Akhor," said Idai. I managed to keep back a yelp, but not very well. Fortunately, Idai heard nothing but Varien's voice reassuring her. "We will find him if we can, Lady," he said. "Shikrar has not called to us either—perhaps he rests after his journey?"

  "That might be, Akhor, but I like it not that I cannot hear him. I pray you, take the time to find him, and rouse him if you can."

  "We will do what we can," said Varien. He winced, and I realised that his head must be throbbing now with the pain of traespeech. It seemed worse for him at the moment than it was for me, and I found it hard enough.

  "We thank you, Lady, for letting us know your concern. Let us all seek him and who finds him first tell the others," I said, and released the link as she agreed.

  Varien took off the circlet and rubbed his temples, grimacing.

  I just stared at him. Eventually he looked up at me. "What do you—ah," he said.

  "Ah, indeed," I said, not knowing whether to be amused or annoyed or delighted. "How long have you known that Shikrar was on his way here?"

  I gathered from the subdued spluttering noises that Rella had overheard.

  "I have only known that for—ah—Lanen, in my fear for your safety I have neglected to tell you—a great deal has been happening among the Kantri of late," he ended lamely, looking for all the world like a small child who has forgotten to carry out its mother's errand. "Lanen—perhaps you should sit down." He smiled then, almost a mischievous grin. "It is a truth and it is most definitely spiky. In fact, it is also horned, tailed and taloned, and it is not he, it is they."

  "They?" I asked weakly. "They who?"

  Not to be outdone, Rella moved up to join us and added swiftly, "They who what?"

  "They who will arrive here in Kolmar in a short time, although I know not precisely when. If Idai is correct, Shikrar should be here already."

  "Who are they?' I all but shouted.

  "The Kantri," he said, almost as if he did not believe it himself. "The Kantrishakrim, my people of old. They are coming here. The Dragon Isle, as you call it, is overrun with fire and ash and would have killed them all if they had stayed. There is nowhere else for them to go. They are coming here. The Kantri are coming to Kolmar."

  I would have bet that six people could not stand silent that long for anything, and I would have lost.

  Rella

  When I could breathe again I laughed, long and loud. One of the Healers sent what I suspect was a treatment for shock to all of us, but I kept laughing.

  "Either tell us what's so funny or stop cackling like an old hen," said Jamie dryly.

  "Berys—it's Berys," I gasped out. "Oh, Lady, I'd give a year's wages to see his face when he finds out!" The others waited. "Don't you see?" I said, "He's got all his hopes pinned on his demons, that's the one thing he has that almost no one can challenge, and now—hahaha!—oh, now the creatures who can get rid of the damned things with a breath are coming here and there's nothing he can do about it! Oh, it's wonderful!"

  Well, that seemed to cheer everyone up. I kept laughing on and off for an hour or so, while we got moving. Trust Varien to forget to mention it to anyone!

  Seems my friend Shikrar was going to be the first to arrive. I had spent more time with his son Kedra than with him, but I respected Shikrar. He was a fair soul. The only problem was that he was a fair soul in an absolutely huge body. He was half again the size of his son. He had been fine on the Dragon Isle, but I was having a hard time imagining him in Kolmar. He seemed to be made to a different scale entirely. Still, see him in Kolmar I would, if they could find him. According to Lanen and Varien there was no sign yet.

  The cloudy morning brought in a sunny day, like the old songs say. I was glad of it as well, my bones aren't as young as they used to be and the cold was getting into them. Still, I walked rather man rode all morning as we went higher and higher. It was getting colder, and the air a bit thinner too, when Will pointed up ahead and said, "At last! That's the entrance to the high field."

  "Not a minute too soon, I'm starved," said Lanen cheerfully. "But where, Will? I don't see any entrance, just more rocks."

  He grinned at her. "That's the beauty of it. Unless you know it's here you'd never find it—follow me." He mounted one of the horses and went on a little ahead, and before our eyes he seemed to disappear into the rocks. I thought it would be easier to see the entrance as we came closer, but until we were right on top of it you'd have sworn there was nothing there but stubborn rock. We went in, one by one, leading the horses between us—it was a narrow entrance— and found ourselves in a great round green field surrounded by high rock. At the end farthest from the entrance and a bit to the left there was a small wood, but it was half hidden by one of the two spurs of black rock mat curved down from the high walls into the green grass. They almost looked like great ramps, dwindling swiftly to nothing from the great height of their origins in the cliffs and mingling with the ground.

  All this I saw in the first moment—it's the Service training, you get used to looking for the lay of the land and a quick way out. I saw no exit at first glance, and then I stopped looking.

  The whole place was brimful of Saleras.

  Maikel

  When I wakened I was already walking, down the valley, up the far
hill, following. I did not remember rising or taking food, and I did not have my pack with me. Alone, then, without aid, without even the most basic necessities, I began the war.

  At first it was not so hard. A little delay here, a forced rest there where I did not need one, anything that would slow it down and keep it from its goal. It wanted me to walk quickly so I concentrated on walking slowly. I learned then that if I thought of my fight in the abstract I would lose it—"walking slowly" could speed up without my noticing it until I was at the speed the demon wanted. So I took each step, each single step, and slowed it down. I forced myself to concentrate on every single step.

  Sweet Shia, it was hard. Still, from the way the demon fought back I must have been accomplishing something, so I bent all my will to it.

  I had worked hard to become the best Healer I could be, taking my natural talent to its utmost limit through study and perseverance. It had been difficult but I had learned a great deal about bending my own will to a task until it was completed. That training stood me in good stead now, when every step took concentration and dedication. The demon fought, of course, but I used one of the techniques we were taught to overcome its first struggles. If the Healer is wounded he cannot work as well, so we learn first to heal ourselves. If there is no time for that, there is still a way to ' distance yourself from your own pain. I used that distance now to protect myself, though I knew that I would pay for it later.

  I nearly laughed. The habit of life is so strong! For me there would be very little "later."

  I discovered then the truth of the old saying that he who has nothing to lose is most to be feared, for he fears nothing. To prove the point I stood still, ignoring the desperate demands of the demon, concentrating on simply gazing about me on the new-blown spring, hearing the song of the small birds, breathing in the clear air filled with the spices of life and living. I stood on that sunlit hillside and wept, but not from the pain.