by Dawn Cook
Saddened that he was barred from journeying with his kin, Alissa bowed her head. A single tear came unbidden to splash upon the ground.
“Here now,” Lodesh admonished. “I’m not worth raku tears.” He tilted her head to force her to look at him. Gazing into his clear, green eyes, she read the peace in his heart, but under it was a longing and regret he couldn’t hide from her. “I am content,” he murmured for her thoughts alone. “To serve such a beast as you will be a pleasant task.”
Alissa caught her breath as he had given the word beast an unusual amount of importance.
“It’s a dangerous pact you have made with yourself,” he continued silently, confirming her anxious thoughts.
“You know of Beast!” she blurted into his mind, and he nodded, his face deadly serious.
Glancing at Useless, who was frowning up at the night sky, Lodesh continued. “I spent many hours with Keribdis,” he explained silently. “I learned much of rarities such as yourself. She did so take her responsibilities seriously, and they were never far from her thoughts. You’re lucky she isn’t here. She would spot Beast in an instant and force you to destroy her.”
“She is part of me,” Alissa argued weakly. “Losing her would make me less and serve no purpose.”
“Yes. Well. I can keep a secret,” Lodesh said aloud as he straightened. “I just feel bad for Keribdis.” Lodesh grinned wickedly as Strell approached, his arms full of wood.
“Keribdis?” Useless murmured. He looked darkly at Strell’s wood, and Alissa guessed what his frown meant. She knew Useless would want to return to the Hold immediately, and she didn’t relish the conflict that was brewing.
Lodesh beamed. “As I was telling Alissa . . .” He winked at her. “Keribdis would be most unhappy to find all her studies and preparations were for naught.” He chuckled. “Imagine, spending hundreds of years preparing for an event and then skipping out at the last moment, leaving it for your—”
“That will do, Lodesh,” Useless interrupted sharply. “They’re gone. It’s impolite to speak of them.”
Shrugging, Lodesh crouched to arrange the precious mirth wood for a slow-burning fire.
Alissa’s hand began to throb dully. She had forgotten about it, but now it was clamoring for attention, just besting the complaints from her tail. Holding her hand close, she ignored it for a little longer and tried to help Lodesh. Useless took on a disapproving stance, his slippered feet planted firmly on the moss. Alissa sighed heavily. He wanted to go. She, however, couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. She was staying, at least for the night.
Useless grimaced. “Let’s go back to the Hold. Even walking, we can be there in time for a late supper.”
Without a word, Alissa wound her battered tail about herself and curled up, placing her head on her unhurt hand. She set the wood to burning with a quiet thought. Ignoring Useless, she gazed into its glowing existence. A weary sigh escaped her, nearly putting out the fire.
Strell shook his head at Useless. Sitting cross-legged next to Alissa’s head, he slipped his new mirth wood pipe from his coat and began inspecting it for damage.
Lodesh was on her other side. He stretched his feet to the bright flames, his breath leaving him in a puff of weariness. “What a day,” he mumbled. Sitting up, he unlaced his boots, pausing as Alissa raised an eye ridge and rumbled questioningly. With a small grunt, he reconsidered and left them on. There was, after all, a lady present.
The three of them ignored Useless as he stood, his hands upon his hips, watching them settle in for the night. “I suppose,” he said dryly, “it would be useless to protest?”
“I’m staying with Alissa,” Strell said. Apparently satisfied that his pipe had survived intact, he began a soft tune. Alissa felt a tear threaten as he played with his old proficiency, every note true and sure upon his new mirth wood pipe.
Useless turned to Lodesh. “Warden?” he asked.
Lodesh settled back on the mossy ground and turned his eyes to the flowers drifting down. “Do you really think I will leave when my trees are in bloom?” he asked, and then louder, “I, too, choose to stay with Alissa. Besides, you won’t be sleeping in your bed tonight.” He arched his eyebrows. “Slivers . . .” he said mysteriously.
“Oh, very well,” Useless grumbled. There was a tug on Alissa’s thoughts as several thick blankets appeared along with a dull, lumpy cushion. Useless commandeered the latter, and still out of sorts, he sat down across from her with very little grace.
“Now isn’t this cozy?” Lodesh quipped as he reached for one of the blankets. “I have always said a raku makes the best of traveling companions.”
Strell paused in his playing to rub the back of his head. “I would beg to differ,” he said.
A familiar chitter drew Alissa’s eyes upward to see Talon. She hovered and fussed until Useless held up a long-fingered hand for her to alight upon. “You fly at night?” he murmured, stroking her gently to settle her. “Why not?” he said as he set her to perch on the firewood.
Everyone was accounted for, and Alissa was absolutely and utterly exhausted. The mirth wood burned, sending the smell of autumn apples to drift upon the cold, early spring air. The fire was unique and would probably never be repeated. Mirth wood was too precious to burn, but it had lain for decades and was good for little else. Strell continued to play, lulling her to sleep as he often did when he wanted to avoid a reading lesson. Tonight, she expected he simply wanted her to rest. Too exhausted to ask Useless about her hand, she blinked sleepily and shut her eyes. Her last sight was of Useless, his fingers steepled, gazing deeply into the fire.
“Did you know,” he muttered uneasily, “that she eats nothing with feet?”
Lodesh laughed, and with that pleasant sound drifting in her ears, Alissa succumbed to a restful and unbroken sleep.
39
White, she thought. Everything is white. Blinking in the late-morning sun, Alissa raised her head and looked around. Mirth flowers slipped from her in a soft hush to pool about her folded arms. Their spicy aroma filled her nostrils, and she breathed deeply, enjoying the chill air.
Falling blossoms had covered everything in a gentle blanket of fragrance during the night, yet the branches above seemed full, barely diminished by what had already fallen. Her injured hand had been expertly wrapped in a bandage of black silk. It looked like it had originally been one of Useless’s sashes. The binding was so tight, she could only manage the smallest of twitches. It didn’t hurt at all, and her tail was only a dull throb. Alissa smiled. Useless must have healed her as she slept.
Their camp was deserted, the blankets stacked neatly on Useless’s cushion. Even Talon was absent. The ground where the flowers had been recently disturbed was green with the fresh color of new moss, but it was disappearing fast as the petals continued to rain down in a lazy, sedate shower. It was simply breathtaking.
She looked to find Useless in his raku guise, sitting at the edge of the grove in the rising sun. He, too, sported a thick layer of white and must have been unmoving nearly half the night to have acquired such a heavy covering. Alissa stretched, sending the last of her flowers to join those on the ground. “Good morning, Useless,” she greeted him softly with her thoughts from across the distance. “Thank you for mending my hand and tail.”
With a gentle rumble, Useless turned, causing his blanket of white to slip away and reveal his true color. His scratches were gone, and he looked as he always did. “Good morning, Alissa,” he murmured silently. “Don’t thank me for your hand, though. It’s still broken. I’ve only deadened the pain. And your tail was only bruised.”
“Broken?” She froze, almost afraid to move. “I thought you used a ward of healing again.”
Sensing her distress, he sent a comforting thought. “Your hand will heal without permanent impairment. I set the bones last night as you slept. What you feel is only a deadening of pain. I couldn’t safely give you a second healing ward before your body had time to replenish its reserves. Three
days, at the very least. Everything has its limits.”
“Oh,” Alissa thought. “So that’s why you didn’t heal your scratches yesterday. You wanted to wait until after—” She stopped, not wanting to say his name.
Useless slowly blinked. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I was waiting until after Bailic.” Unperturbed, he returned his attention to the sky. “How does the day find you?” he asked, somehow managing to look regal despite the flower now perched rakishly above his left eye ridge.
Alissa flexed her wings, and with one downward thrust, she made the short hop to where he stood. Petals whirled up, obscuring everything in an explosion of white. She landed lightly and smiled in intense satisfaction as the fragrant blossoms swirled and danced, creating a singular sight. “I’m hungry,” she thought brightly, enjoying the novel sensation of falling flowers upon her back. She held her injured hand tightly to her. It didn’t feel broken.
“Yes . . .” Useless drawled as the self-made storm subsided. “What will you eat?”
Alissa turned a hopeful expression to him. “Fish?”
His eyes pinched dubiously. “I know where you can find a wild sheep, or even a—”
“Fish,” she affirmed, trying not to shudder.
“Fish.” Useless drew back in dismay. “I suppose you can catch one?”
“I’ll have to. I’m not suited for pancakes anymore.” Suddenly suspicious at his less-than-enthusiastic response, she eyed him closely. The last thing she wanted was to appear odd again. Her eyes set her apart enough. “Why?” she asked warily. “Is there a problem with eating fish?”
Useless snorted in alarm, quickly turning from the sky to her. “No!” he shouted. “Eat what you want. It’s just— all that water.” And he actually quivered.
Alissa was going to ask him if an aversion to water was endemic to all rakus or just him, when a soft scuffing came to them. It was Strell, still at the far end of the grove. Even from there she could tell the night’s rest had done him good. No longer sporting that ghastly shadow of a beard, he looked as she recalled him from their weeks of travel: relaxed and sure of himself. Bailic was gone. He could be himself again. Somewhere he had found a new set of clothes, exquisitely tailored in that shade of dark green that suited him so well. He looked absolutely wonderful to Alissa’s love-struck eyes, and she caught her breath as he strode confidently through the drifting, white flowers and waved his distant greeting.
Seeing her reaction, Useless frowned. “You didn’t listen to me.”
“Your warning came too late,” she said softly, her gaze fixed firmly upon Strell, the beginning of a smile in her eyes.
“I can see no further good coming from this unfortunate tie,” Useless continued.
“I don’t care,” she whispered. His words of doom fell on deaf ears as Alissa tentatively waved back with her good hand.
Maneuvering his massive bulk gracefully, Useless tried to block her view. “He will grow old, while you will appear to age but a few years.”
Alissa tore her eyes from Strell. “I don’t care,” she wailed. “Is there no way?”
“I cannot break the laws of nature, child,” he said gently.
“But you can bend them,” she pleaded.
Useless started slightly. “Odd,” he mused. “That’s exactly what Strell said last night.”
“You talked of us last night?” she thought in alarm. The idea of how that conversation probably went filled her with a thick sense of foreboding.
“Of course. We all did.” Useless chuckled. “There was little else of interest to discuss.” Then he turned to Strell, leaving her alone with her troubled thoughts.
“Good day, Talo-Toecan.” Strell greeted her teacher first as was proper, but his eyes never left hers. “Good morning, Alissa,” he said, lowering his voice and gazing intently at her.
Alissa caught her breath and dropped her eyes. It was as she feared. Somehow, in less than a single day, Strell had picked up some of Lodesh’s mannerisms. His words weren’t as flamboyant, but his look was just as inviting, just as warm, and said what his speech couldn’t.
“Hello,” she murmured shyly into his thoughts.
He jumped, startled at the sensation, and Useless chuckled. Still laughing, he shifted to his man form so he could speak with Strell. “It takes getting used to, doesn’t it?” Useless said as he coalesced back into existence, referring to the wordless speech she was forced to use now.
“Yes,” Strell muttered. Brightening, he turned and favored her with one of his largest grins. “I’m just glad we can talk at all. I don’t care how we manage it.”
Her instructor’s smile vanished. Alissa knew he wasn’t enthusiastic about her and Strell’s new mutual understanding, but at least he could try to accept it. It wasn’t as if anything had really changed. Stuck as she was as a raku, there wasn’t much chance their relationship would develop any further. She grimaced, and Useless harrumphed in understanding. Alissa had a suspicion he was glad she couldn’t shift back. It made his task of keeping her respectable a lot easier.
Useless looked Strell up and down. “You,” he said, his eyebrows raised, “look like an entirely different person.”
Strell ran a finger between his neck and the collar of his shirt. “Lodesh showed me his family’s holdings this morning.Did you know there’s a well for every ten houses?” he said, his eyes wide in astonishment. “And the spent water runs in great covered ditches under the street to irrigate the field we’re now standing in! Can you believe it?”
“Really?” she said quietly so as not to startle him, pitching her thoughts so both Strell and Useless could hear her.
“And Lodesh found me something to wear,” he continued, fingering the fine cloth.
“You look just like him with that emblem on your shoulder,” she pointed out.
Strell shifted nervously and peered down at the ornate needlework. “Ah—yes.”
Useless bent close and sniffed in consideration. “I’m surprised,” he said, his eyebrows jumping in agitation. “Only the Wardens and their immediate family are allowed to wear the image of the mirth flower.”
Strell became even more uneasy, his eyes going everywhere but to Alissa’s. “Ah,” he stammered. “Lodesh seems to believe—well—he thinks we’re related.”
“Really?” she exclaimed as Useless snorted his disbelief and looked at the sky.
“Through his youngest sister.” Strell winced. “The one who ran off with my supposed great, ever so great ancestor.”
His eyes on the updrafts, Useless rumbled his opinion.
“That would make him your great, ever so great uncle?” Alissa guessed, not sure if she liked the idea.
Laughing now, Strell shook his head. “It’s sand in the wind, if you ask me.”
Useless turned to Strell with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Can’t you trace your lineage back that far?” he asked, clearly jesting. After all, it was almost four hundred years.
“Well, yes,” Strell admitted to Alissa’s surprise. “But to tell you the truth, I’m afraid to.”
With a guffaw, Useless nodded. “I understand,” and he looked at Strell appraisingly.
“Understand what?” Lodesh stepped from behind a tree. Still waiting for a response, he went to stand by Strell. Alissa raised an eye ridge as she looked at them, then Useless. “Well?” she privately asked her teacher.
Not saying a word, he simply shook his head. Seeing them standing next to each other, the similarities were unmistakable. True, Lodesh’s hair was blond where Strell’s was brown, but it curled in the same fashion. Their eyes, too, were unalike, but they both glinted mischievously when they thought they had gotten the best of a situation. Being nearly the identical size and build, they looked like dissimilar brothers from the same family. They even stood the same way, confidently poised, wondering why Useless and Alissa were staring at them.
“I can’t imagine why you would have to chart your family line, Strell,” Useless said around a dry chuckle
. “Just look at you two.”
Taken aback, the two men eyed each other. Then Lodesh grinned as Strell grimaced, and the effect was spoilt. “No,” Strell asserted with a slight shiver. “It must have been some other Hirdune.”
“Harrumph,” Useless grumped, seeming to not care one way or another.
Slowly, an uncomfortable silence descended. Alissa wanted to talk with Strell, but not with Useless and Lodesh lurking about. She hadn’t a chance to speak with him since yesterday and didn’t quite know how to gracefully excuse herself. Eyes pleading, she looked to Lodesh. Strell, too, seemed uncomfortable, and he cleared his throat as he shifted from foot to foot.
Lodesh glanced from Strell to Alissa and back again. A slight smile hovered about him. “Talo-Toecan,” he said overly loud. “I’d have a word with you concerning that question of yours?”
“Can it wait?” Useless asked irately, obviously reluctant to leave them alone.
“M-m-m . . . no.”
Frowning, Useless turned to the grinning Warden. “Oh, very well,” he agreed. “Let’s go see if there are still any fish in that puny ditch of yours you so elegantly name a spring.”
“Fish?” Lodesh cried as they moved away. “Of course there’re fish. It wouldn’t be a spring without fish.”
Alissa laughed silently for a moment, then slumped.
“Oh, Alissa,” Strell said ruefully. “We’ve got ourselves in a nasty tangle.” Collapsing where he was, he lay back to look dejectedly up at the branches thick with flowers.
Curling up, Alissa rested her head on her tail. Her eyes were nearly level with Strell’s now, and she could almost forget she was stuck in this leathery excuse for a body. “Useless warned me,” she thought wearily, “but I don’t care.”
“Me neither.” Pulling his gaze from the heavens, he met her eyes. “Talo-Toecan says it will be years before I see your face as I recall it.”