Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXIV

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Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXIV Page 9

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  But when she opened her eyes again, she was still only herself, a lost girl standing on rocks, all alone in the dark and foolish. She should have gone to Bobcat Clan and asked for help. If she started back down the mountain now, perhaps she could reach them by midday tomorrow.

  But then she remembered the daylight's painfully burning light, how it had driven her back into the trees' sheltering shadows. She was changed. That way was closed to her.

  You are so close, child, the voice said.

  She knotted her fists and stared up into the endless night sky. "Tell me what to do, Lady Owl!"

  Unfurl your wings.

  As if it were that easy—just decide to have wings and then fly! Anger flooded through her, white-hot, searing, like a river that was about to carry her away.

  And who is the object of your anger, child?

  Not Lady Owl. Though Jolice didn't understand how the Lady intended her to rescue her family, the spirit at least had not turned her away. "I'm angry with Elk Clan!"

  Are you?

  She remembered what she had seen on that dream visit. The men of Elk Clan were mired in loss, much as she was now. Their wives had all died along with their sisters and daughters. Elk Clan's whole future had passed away while the other clans went on with their lives and refused even to trade with them, lest they put themselves at risk too. Elk Clan had done a terrible thing, but they had suffered as well.

  But the anger was still there, molten and pent up. If she wasn't angry at Lady Owl and at least understood why Elk Clan had been so desperate, then all she had left as the focus of that anger was-

  "I am angry," she said slowly, "because I was gone when it happened, because I couldn't stop them from killing my father and taking my mother and sister." She fisted her hands. "I should have been there!"

  But then you would have been cowering in that Elk Clan lodge with the rest, your hands bound, your face wet with tears, the voice said.

  The acknowledged anger stiffened her shoulders, made her hold her head tall.

  Now, child, fly.

  She raised her arms and it seemed the stars whispered encouragements in hard bright little voices. The wind gusted at her back, pushing, and then she leaped out into empty air-

  Falling, falling. She had no wings. Air streamed through her outstretched fingers. Sasalla had lied. The rocks rushed up at her and then—

  And then—

  Something deep within her breast tore as though she were coming apart at unsuspected seams, a terrible wrenching, rending of heart, blood, and bone as Lady Owl's great cruel talons reached inside her body and pulled.

  She blinked, suddenly freed, and then flew, wings angling up into the night sky, light as gossamer, light as breath itself. Down below, she heard something thud onto the rocks. The bitter scent of blood seeped through the air, oddly exciting. Jolice soared up the mountain, then circled back.

  Take a last look, Daughter, then come away and look no more, the voice said.

  The body of a girl sprawled across the rocks, arms akimbo, legs badly broken, brown eyes staring up sightlessly. The body wore her leggings and the decorated tunic her mother had made for her just last harvest. It wore her face.

  "Am I dead?" she asked as she wheeled above the rocks.

  Not the part of your that matters, Lady Owl said. Fly higher. Inhabit all of the sky as do your sister owls.

  Jolice angled her wings upward so that the snowy mountain below dropped away. Abruptly, she was falling up into the starry night sky. With a shudder, she lost focus and could not remember how to fly. Her wings flailed until finally she leveled out.

  You hold back, child, the voice said.

  "I am—afraid," she said, gliding just above the pines.

  That is because you cling to being merely human.

  "I will stop if only you will tell me how," Jolice said.

  You must find that path within yourself, Lady Owl said. Now go and rescue my children.

  * * * *

  She soared back down to the valley, passing over her burned out village, then following the trampled snow to Elk Clan. The night was fine, the wind bold and pine-scented. She felt gloriously free as she stretched her new wings and yet troubled. Even if she rescued the women and girls of Owl Clan, her father and the rest of the men would still be dead. Nothing could ever be as it had been.

  She found the village again, its watch fires banked, the guards nodding off. Dawn was near. She would have to hurry. She landed in the snow close to the pole and its overseeing elk skull. With a flutter, dozens of owls swooped out of the sky and joined her, each as snowy white as the Lady Owl herself.

  The instant their talons touched the snow, they transformed into women. Long white feathers crowned their heads and their eyes were hot gold. "Youngest sister, what would you have us do?" Sasalla said.

  Jolice looked down and saw that she had hands again instead of wings. "Over here!" she whispered and led them through the maze of lodges to the one where the survivors of Owl Clan were imprisoned. She used her belt knife to cut the hide wall, then slipped through the jagged tear. Inside, she could see perfectly well despite the lack of light.

  One by one, she pulled the sleeping women and girls to their feet, slit their bonds, and guided them out through the torn wall to her sister owls.

  Dazed with misery, the captives stumbled and fell, clung to her for support, asked who she was, snuffled and wept. Elk Clan had taken forty-three prisoners in all, including her mother and young tousled haired sister, Larsi. To the last, they seemed smaller and more fragile than she remembered. She could hear the blood pounding in their veins, the thud of their frightened hearts. Outside in the snow, the captives shivered in the moon shadows, then gazed at the owl rescuers with disbelieving eyes.

  "Jolice, is that really you?" Larsi reached up and touched her sister's cheek with her fingertips. "What happened to your hair?"

  Her mother held Jolice close, as though she were only three again. "Child, child, what have you done?"

  "I went to Owl Court and gave myself to the Lady Owl," she said into her mother's familiar hair which was still redolent with the scent of blueberry soap. Her mother seemed so short! "We must go before the Elk Clan men wake."

  "Go where?" her mother said, releasing her. She brushed at her tear-stained face. "They killed everyone, including your father, and burned our lodges. There's nothing left."

  Two villages, each cut in half, Jolice thought. Her mother was right. Nothing could mend that.

  Sleepy voices came from the front of the lodge. Footsteps stamped toward them through the snow. Larsi hugged Jolice's waist, sobbing.

  "They have taken everything from us," her mother said, "including our future. They don't deserve to walk this earth with decent folks!"

  Humans always want blood revenge, the Lady said, but Owl Court is concerned with justice. These are my blameless daughters. Find a way to make them whole.

  Her former self, what she had been holding back from the Lady, that bit, like her mother, also craved revenge. She felt the truth of that down to her toes.

  The older man who had been on guard the night before, the one called Brujel, darted around the lodge, torch in one hand, sword in the other. "Get back in the lodge!" he shouted. Several men joined him and she could hear more startled voices as the rest of the village awoke.

  The Owl Clan women and girls huddled, helpless and terrified. Jolice smoothed Larsi's hair, then passed the child to their mother. "These Owl Clan daughters are not yours to command," she said, turning back to Brujel. She held her head tall and proud, for had she not flown the skies this night?

  Her long head-feathers trailed in the wind and she saw his eyes widen as he realized they had come from Owl Court.

  "They are Elk Clan now!" he said, his face reddening.

  A line of pink glimmered along the eastern horizon. Jolice thought the humans would not even notice it yet, but the faint light was glaring to her new eyes. There was not much time left this night. "They are und
er the protection of the Lady Owl," she said, squinting.

  He seized Larsi by the hair and dragged her close. The child sobbed hysterically. "Leave now or we will kill them all!"

  He gave off fear-scent like the hare she had killed in the Lady Owl's forest. He was prey. She felt her interest sharpen, remembered the hot taste of blood. "Give back what you have taken," she said, circling him as though he were only a cornered rabbit.

  Fear glinted in his eyes. He rotated, always keeping his sword between them though the tip wavered. "We did what we must—to survive! Their men would have done the same!"

  She felt the fiery breath of dawn growing. She and her sister owls could kill these brutes, and part of her longed to just tear out their beating hearts or drive them over a cliff, but that would not provide for Owl Clan women and children who had no one now to fill their lodges with meat or protect them from further attacks.

  Truth is a terrible thing, Lady Owl said. Most prefer to look away.

  The truth of what they had done. Jolice saw in Brujel's eyes that he thought only of his own grief, his own need, his own future, as did they all.

  The Owl maidens looked to Jolice with their gleaming golden gaze, hands clasped, waiting. With a flash, she understood. This was her justice, as they each must have had their own such moment when they gave themselves to Owl Court. She must shape this justice herself.

  The night wind coursed through the valley, carrying a hundred intriguing scents. The Elk Clan men's eyes glittered with the last of the reflected starlight. Everyone, man, woman, child, and owl watched her. She gazed from face to face to face, trying to work out what to do.

  Jolice's mother reached for Larsi, then dropped her hand. "You're just one girl," she said in a trembling voice. "Go back up the mountain. Live out your life with Lady Owl. We will take care of ourselves."

  They would give in, she meant. They would lie with these criminals and bear them Elk children while Owl Clan's burnt lodges and dead husbands rotted in the snow.

  She would not let that happen! Jolice cocked her head, then seized Brujel's wrist in cool implacable fingers. "Bring them and follow me!" she cried to her sister owls. She reached and then the men were all suddenly elsewhere standing in a burned-out village, the snow dark with frozen blood, the air acrid with ashes.

  The startled Elk Clan men stared, each in the grasp of an owl maiden. Brujel gave a startled cry. "Wha-?"

  She forced him across the blood-saturated snow to stand over her father's grisly corpse. Brujel struggled against her grip, but this new form had strength far beyond that of her old body, lying now broken upon the rocks. "See what you have done, Elk Clan," she said. "Look upon your deeds with other eyes."

  Brujel fought harder to free himself, striking her over and over, though she did not feel the blows. She reached back in time, as Sasalla had shown her, and found her father's last minutes, seeing the carnage through his eyes as he seized his sword and ran to fight off Elk Clan's attack, feeling his fear for his family, then moments later the stark agony of his wounds as he sprawled, bleeding away his life in the snow.

  Crying out, Brujel lurched back and then Jolice let him go. Many of the Elk men collapsed to their knees in the bloody snow. "You can never return what you have taken." Her voice rang through the darkness. "But justice demands that you make amends. You will build Owl Clan a new village at a location of their choosing, and then you will hunt for them, protect them against attack, carry out all the homely tasks their men would have done, never asking anything in return."

  She stalked through the men still shivering from the pain they themselves had inflicted, each step precise. If they would not look at her, she pulled their fingers away from their faces. "You will take none of the women to wife unless they desire it," she said, "and I cannot imagine after what you have done that they ever will. None of their Owl daughters are to be promised to your Elk sons."

  Brujel staggered toward her. "But how will Elk Clan survive?" His face had gone utterly white.

  "You may not," she said. "Or perhaps the other clans will eventually take pity if you respect your new obligations. In the end, the Lady Elk and Elk Court will decide your fate."

  She took the nearest man's arm, reached, and then they were back in Elk Clan's village. With a cry, the men dropped their swords, staring at their hands as though they were drenched in blood.

  Jolice turned to her mother. "They will honor you now," she said, and her voice sharpened toward a screech. "It's little enough after what they have done, but it is all that I can give you."

  Dawn was a hot red line along the eastern horizon now, the sky above brightening to gray. Her eyes had to turn away.

  "Come with us!" her mother begged. Larsi was sobbing again.

  "That life is over," Jolice said, feeling the enthralling lure of the open sky. "I have another now."

  Larsi caught her hand and pressed it to her wet cheek. "Won't you ever come back?"

  "Not unless you need justice," Jolice said.

  The child's touch anchored her to the ground when she longed to fly. Freeing herself from Larsi's fingers, she felt the last of her humanity slip away. With a full throated cry, she leaped up into the sky and then soared on gossamer wings with her sister owls back to the cool green-black piney silences of Owl Court.

  Nellandra's Keeper

  by Teresa Howard

  As anyone who has a sister knows, the answer to "am I my sister's keeper?" is a resounding yes, especially if your sister isn't doing what your family wants her to do. The mystery, however, is why adults think a girl can control her sister's behavior.

  Teresa Howard is a teacher and school technology coordinator by day. Nights and weekends she morphs into a con-going Fantasy and SF fan and writer whose stories cover a wide range of speculative fiction and children's stories. The world of Aldebar and the magical Nelari people feature in many of these stories, and she is currently working on a novel set in this world. She shares her home with SuzieQ, a loveable Tibetan terrier. She says that she made the mistake of reading the bios of former "Sword and Sorceress" authors and is both honored and intimidated to be included in their numbers.

  #

  "Where is Nellandra? I told you to guard her until after the wedding." The high priestess's mind voice prickled uncomfortably in the back of my head.

  "I'm sure she's just gone for a walk. I can find her." My answer was much calmer than I felt, a little trick of mindspeak that I employ from time to time.

  "Nellandra should be preparing to meet her bridegroom, not wandering off. She must not be late for the betrothal feast, too many people will be watching." I winced as I felt her annoyance.

  "Yes, Grandmother, I'll make sure she's there."

  From the beginning, I had disagreed with Grandmother's decision to send Nellandra to the Degg Homeland for two years. She had resisted coming home. Now, Nellandra was back in Nelar and I was again her keeper and protector, a job I wouldn't wish on anyone. After assuring Grandmother that Nellandra wouldn't be late, I set out to bring the truant bride back from her wandering.

  I pulled a transparent blue stone from its resting place in the bag at my waist. Rubbing it gently, I hummed the ancient seeker's song. The stone warmed in my hands until it gradually gave off a soothing heat of its own.

  I have always had a special bond with Nell that even our Grandmother, the High Priestess, can't match or explain. If anyone could find the reluctant bride it's me, and finding Nell was my mission, at least part of it. I suspected that I would also have to convince her to go through with the marriage.

  I focused on a mental image of Nellandra's face. Ah, there she was. I could see her in my mind, and seeing her, knew at once where she was hiding. I began moving purposefully in her direction.

  Pushing through a tangle of creeping vines and leafy bushes, I spotted Nellandra stretched out lazily on a bed of blue-green egat moss beneath an ancient tree.

  Alerted by my approach, she sat up and spoke wistfully, "I've missed this pla
ce." She stroked the velvety moss and continued as if I wanted an explanation. "Rishal is so dry."

  "I thought you wanted to stay in the Degg Homeland?"

  "I do, but I love Nelar too." She brushed back dark auburn curls from her fine-boned face and smiled.

  I couldn't help noticing how the moss almost matched the color of her eyes. No one could dispute Nellandra's beauty. And being taller than many Nelari men, she carried herself with an easy grace and assurance.

  Recalling the purpose of my mission, I delivered my message. "Grandmother has been calling for you. You're late and if you don't hurry back, everyone's feast meal will be cold before we're dressed."

  I watched embarrassment color her cheeks.

  "Oh! I'd forgotten the time. I'd better hurry. Thanks, Galley!" She jumped to her feet and hurried away at a graceful sprint, heedless of the tangle of bushes that I had carefully maneuvered through.

  Smiling to myself, I watched her retreating figure. That's Nellandra, brains, beauty, grace, but not a smack of magic in her bones. I ran after her, sure that she would need my assistance before long.

  "You're not going to appear at the feast looking like that, are you?" I was out of breath when I caught up with her, but still mindful of my duties. "Your blue is faded."

  Nell shrugged giving me a sideways glance. "In Rishal I hardly ever wear the blue. No one wears it there."

  "Well, this isn't Rishal."

  Nell nodded in understanding, and we walked in silence to the room we shared. She rubbed the silky cream into her skin until it shone blue and smooth. As she did so, I combed special oils into her auburn hair until it hung as black and sleek as my own. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, I noticed there was a frown on her face. Surely she realizes how beautiful she is. Her bridegroom can't help but love her, even after he finds out how we've tricked him.

  "I don't understand the hurry for this wedding." There was sadness in Nell's voice, as if marrying the most eligible bachelor in the Western Nelari Kingdom was some horrible sacrifice she was being asked to make.

 

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