Path of Fate

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “The Blessed Lady,” she breathed. “And then?”

  The image this time was nothing Reisil could make out. A blur of colors and patterns; then suddenly she cried out and staggered. She was falling, falling, falling. The sickening drop seemed to go on forever; then she was brought up sharply. Now she was circling. Below her was a woman—no, not a woman. It was herself, watering her garden, the day Saljane had erupted into her life.

  The image faded before those moments could be replayed, but Reisil could feel the bird’s fury whirling hotter.

  She blinked and climbed to her feet. Her throat was still in her mouth and her whole body trembled. She hated heights. Why would the Blessed Lady pair her with a bird—any bird?

  Reisil bent and put her hands on her knees, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, telling her stomach get back down out of her throat.

  “I suppose I deserve that. Are you going to keep doing that the rest of our lives together?”

  The rest of our lives together.

  Reisil shifted so that she could no longer see her cottage, greenhouse and garden. She’d said good-bye to those already. She was going to accept the Blessed Lady’s gift and begin her new life dry-eyed and square-shouldered.

  “The ahalad-kaaslane serve the Blessed Lady and Kodu Riik. I thought I could serve better as a tark. But there’s trouble here and I need you. There’s going to be war again with Patverseme if we can’t get Ceriba back and find out who kidnapped her.” She shook her head, face set. “Kodu Riik needs peace. As just a tark, I can do nothing. But maybe that’s why the Blessed Lady sent you to me now. Maybe this is what she wants us to do.”

  Reisil looked at Saljane. The bird dipped her head as if nodding. Reisil took a breath to steady herself, hoping she’d have the courage to carry it through. “All right then. Let’s go.”

  She lifted up her leatherwrapped arm and Saljane dropped heavily onto it. Her talons closed around Reisil’s arm and the girl gasped as she staggered under the weight and pressure. She lifted her arm, using her other hand to brace it, letting Saljane climb onto her shoulder. Sweat ran down her back and between her breasts as the morning warmed, but she was glad of the padding and protection the winter vest provided her shoulder as her companion’s talons clamped down.

  It would have been easier to let Saljane fly, but Reisil thought she ought to make some effort to show her repentance and commitment. She hoped her new companion recognized what she was trying to say in leaving the cottage with nothing but the clothes she wore and her ahalad-kaaslane on her shoulder.

  Saljane sat quietly, her feathers rustling in Reisil’s ear. As they turned onto the road, the goshawk stretched her head down and rubbed her beak gently on Reisil’s cheek. Reisil felt sudden tears rise in response to the caress and dashed at her eyes. Ahalad-kaaslane don’t go around crying like children, she told herself sternly. But her heart lightened. She wasn’t alone.

  “Does that mean you forgive me?” she asked, turning her head to peer up into Saljane’s brilliant eyes.

  ~I am yours. You are mine.

  The words retained that sharp, steely tang, though they no longer cut with fury.

  “I guess that’s yes. Or as close to as I’m going to get for now. Maybe I’ll ask again later, when you learn to trust me a little more.” She was silent a moment, thinking.

  ~Can you understand me? she asked Saljane in her mind.

  ~Yes.

  ~Do you know what I’m thinking?

  Curiosity. ~What?

  ~No. Do you know what I think when I think it? Or do I have to tell you?

  ~We are young together. We will fledge together.

  “I take it that means no for now, maybe later after we bond more closely. That’s probably a good thing. I don’t know that you’d like to be inside my head that much, but I know being in yours is going to take some getting used to.”

  By the time she reached Kallas’s gates, her shoulder and neck ached from the unfamiliar strain of carrying Saljane’s weight. The bells had ceased to ring and she heard only eerie silence from the other side of the walls. No one greeted Reisil. She stood for a moment, heart pounding. She wiped her palms against her thighs, squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.

  “This is it. Are you ready?” she asked Saljane. The goshawk roused her feathers and gave herself a little shake. “All right then.”

  Reisil once again pounded on the gatehouse and called out. A guard appeared.

  “Let me in,” she demanded.

  “Town’s sealed. No one goes in. Go away.” He vanished with a clink of arms and Reisil felt her temper rising. She banged again but got no response. They thought they’d ignore her.

  “We’ll see about that,” she muttered. “Saljane, can you fly up there? There’s at least one guard who knows me. I want you to find him.”

  Agreement.

  “I’ll need to see through your eyes. Can you do that?”

  Suddenly Reisil felt Saljane in her mind. Again that sharp tang of alien thinking. Reisil’s sight shifted and doubled. Her stomach lurched as she fumbled to make sense of the images coming simultaneously from two sets of eyes.

  Reisil shut her eyes and still saw, but this time from just Saljane’s point of view. Everything stood out with a clarity and sharpness she had never before experienced. She could see ants crawling along the wall fifty feet away. Across the fields she could see each leaf on the trees as if she stood right before them.

  “Let’s do it then.”

  Reisil put her arm up so that Saljane could climb onto it, then, remembering the vision of the Blessed Lady tossing Saljane into the air, Reisil did her best to emulate her. The goshawk gave a tremendous leap as Reisil swung her arm up. Massive wings beat the air and the wind of it buffeted Reisil.

  The walls rushed past as she streaked with Saljane into the air. Keeping her eyes closed, she sank cross-legged to the ground. Blue sky, bright sun, up and up. Wheeling around, skimming the air, Kallas far below, streets empty. Reisil marveled at the view, seeing all of the town at once. Almost she could forget how high up Saljane was.

  Her stomach lurched again. Almost.

  She put her hands flat against the road, feeling the dust and grit beneath her palms. She remained safely on the ground, she told herself, teeth grinding together. Saljane was born to fly. No danger, no danger.

  Saljane circled, hovering over the gate. Reisil could see herself on the ground, head bowed as though in prayer. Needles prickled all over her skin. She felt herself panicking, struggling against Saljane’s hold on her mind. The bird clamped down, pinning her as though she were a fat rabbit. On the ground, Reisil retched, her body trembling with racking effort.

  Saljane continued to make lazy circles, waiting for her ahalad-kaaslane to find equilibrium. Reisil gulped air, unable to close off their shared vision, unable to withdraw from Saljane’s steel-taloned grip on her mind. Fear clawed at her and she battled it back.

  “You’d have had help with this if you hadn’t been so stubborn,” she chastised herself sourly. “And you wouldn’t have had to do it in the middle of a road in the middle of a crisis. So get a hold on yourself and get on with it. Saljane’s waiting. So’s Ceriba.”

  Reisil forced herself to sit back up, breathing slow, measured breaths. The earth wheeled around her and she fought her sense of vertigo. She concentrated on feeling the ground hard beneath her. Slowly she settled back into Saljane’s mind, hands clenching with effort.

  ~All right, ahalad-kaaslane. Let’s get on with it.

  Approval.

  Then Saljane dropped down, scanning the battlements. Men called out and pointed as Saljane swooped past, searching. Finally Reisil saw Leidiik. He was talking to a sentry a quarter of the way down the wall. His square, seamed face was bleak. He nodded to the sentry and moved past, heading away from Reisil and the gates.

  ~Turn him back, Saljane.

  The goshawk stooped and Reisil’s stomach rushed into her mouth. She clamped her jaws shut.
r />   “You can be sick later, when there’s time,” she promised herself.

  Saljane swooped in front of Leidiik, who stopped, surprised. She came at him again, flapping her wings in his face and nearly gouging him with her talons. He took a step back. She landed on the parapet.

  Kek-kek-kek-kek.

  Leidiik took a step forward and she leaped at him, shrieking, wings battering his head and shoulders. He fell back again and Saljane perched back on the wall. He took another step back and Reisil could see him putting the pieces together.

  Good. He wasn’t a stupid man.

  Saljane crooned approval and fluttered closer. He retreated further and Saljane followed, driving him back to the gates.

  Reisil heard the sounds of running feet and surprised voices as the other guards witnessed the spectacle of Leidiik backing along the wall, pursued by Saljane, her wings wide as she snapped her beak.

  ~Very good, Saljane. Reisil felt a startling rush of affection, pride and elation for the bird. Saljane felt it too. She radiated pleasure at Reisil, who found herself smiling a lopsided grin. In those shared moments, there had been an echo of that belonging from their initial meeting. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

  ~Let me go now. It’s my turn.

  Saljane released her mind and Reisil snapped back to herself. Carefully she opened her eyes and blinked. She wiped her mouth on her arm, wrinkling her nose at the smell of her vomit. She clambered to her feet and dusted herself off.

  “Leidiik!” she shouted. “Leidiik!”

  He appeared above the battlements, face bemused. Saljane came to perch a few feet away, preening beneath her wing.

  “Reisil? What do you want?”

  “I want in, Leidiik. Open the gates.”

  “I told you, no one—”

  “That was before,” Reisil said. “Things have changed.” She pointed to Saljane. “I have the right to come and go as I please now. And I please to come.”

  She forced herself to speak loudly and imperiously, feeling herself cringe inside.

  “I have my orders,” he began again, but Reisil stopped him.

  “Your orders don’t apply to ahalad-kaaslane. And I am ahalad-kaaslane.” She lifted her arm and called to Saljane, who hopped off the wall and floated down to settle on Reisil’s stiff wrist. She waited, staring up at the bemused Leidiik, her arm cramping as she fought to hold Saljane steady. Like everyone else, he’d participated in the endless speculation about the goshawk’s choice. Confronted with Reisil, he hardly knew what to do. He rubbed a thick hand over his chin.

  “All right. But you’re going to go directly to Varitsema and I’m sending an escort with you.” He signaled to open the gates.

  Reisil nodded and transferred Saljane to her shoulder. The inset pedestrian gate swung open a bare crack and she scraped through. Guards met her, closing around her in a loose circle. She stopped, waiting. Leidiik descended the zigzagging stairway.

  “I’ll take you myself,” he announced. Reisil nodded and followed.

  The streets of Kallas were eerily empty. Woodsmoke curling from chimneys gave the only evidence that the town was inhabited.

  “Inside, by order of the mayor and council,” Leidiik said, when Reisil asked where everyone was. “And they’re making house-to-house searches. If the Vadonis girl is here, they’ll find her.”

  “Who could have taken her?” Reisil wondered aloud, curious about Leidiik’s opinion. He was an experienced soldier. He’d fought the Patversemese in the early years of the war, returning to Kallas with a pike wound through his shoulder. He’d recovered eventually, and gone into service to the town. He had a lot of reason to hate the Patversemese, Reisil mused. It would be useful for kidnappers to have someone at the gate. Was Ceriba still in Kallas?

  “I’ll tell you what I think,” Leidiik said after a moment, weighing his words. “I think that this kidnapping was well planned. Which means no matter what the council wants to believe, the girl isn’t likely to still be in Kallas. Unless she’s dead, which isn’t likely. More leverage if she’s alive. Kidnappers would’ve had an escape route well established, and that means a way out of Kallas.” Which meant at least one guard was in on the plot. Leidiik sucked his teeth and spat and Reisil knew that the idea that one of his fellow guards might have betrayed the town left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “My guess is they put her on the river and she’s leagues away by now and getting farther away by the moment. That kind of execution requires a lot of people—from both Kallas and Patverseme.” He glanced at Reisil, blue eyes grave. “People you wouldn’t ordinarily suspect. But there’s a lot of folks in Kallas that don’t want to see Kodu Riik get into bed with Patverseme. I doubt the Patversemese are happy about it either. The Dure Vadonis has a lot of enemies at home and in Kodu Riik he’s got a lot more. Remember the saying: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I think that there’s been another, temporary treaty, one written in blood. I think you’re about to step into a nest of vipers and you’re not going to know who your friends are. If I were going to give a raw ahalad-kaaslane a piece of advice, I’d tell her to walk softly and trust no one until they can prove to you that they had nothing to do with taking the girl.”

  “Not even you?”

  He shook his head. “I know what I’ve been up to, but you don’t. You know I was in the war, you know I have a reason to hate the Patversemese. But I don’t truck with cowards who steal girls. If I’m going to pick a fight, I’m going to do it face-to-face. But I could be lying. Don’t let your emotions for me or anyone else cloud your judgment. That’s the reason why the ahaladkaaslane don’t get to call any place home. Can’t afford to get too attached to anyone—or to hate anyone too deeply.”

  “At least I can trust the other ahalad-kaaslane,” Reisil said confidently, though she thought of Juhrnus and wondered.

  “Can you? If you thought that this treaty was a horrible mistake for Kodu Riik, wouldn’t you do something to stop it? Wouldn’t you be obligated to? I’m not saying that any were involved, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”

  Reisil fell silent, a cold knot settling in the pit of her stomach. Leidiik’s argument made sense. Too much sense.

  “What makes you think they’ve taken her out of Kallas?” Reisil asked him finally.

  “Isn’t any reason to keep her here, and a lot more to get out. They have to buy time to get the war going again. Messages have to be sent to Koduteel and Vitne Ozols. Then councils have to be called, and armies have to be mobilized. It all takes time. That’s the good news: You’ve got a little maneuvering room to find her before everything falls apart. They’ll keep her alive for now, trying to figure out how best to use her. But sooner or later they’ll have to kill her. She knows who they are and getting caught is sure death. That’s the bad news: You’ve got time to find her, but you’re already running out of time. No dispatches have been sent yet, but when they’ve turned Kallas upside down, you can bet your teeth it’s going to get ugly.”

  They had arrived outside Varitsema’s villa. Patversemese and Kallas guards surrounded the place. Leidiik ignored them all and walked straight up to the door. One of the Patversemese soldiers stepped in front of him, face belligerent.

  “This house is off-limits.”

  Leidiik straightened, his bull neck tightening. “The ahalad-kaaslane go where they please in Kodu Riik. And she wants to go inside.”

  The guard eyed Reisil over Leidiik’s shoulder and spat. Saljane mantled and gave her strident cry. It echoed along the deserted street.

  “My orders are that no unauthorized personnel are allowed.” Reisil sidled past Leidiik before he could respond. She stood toe-to-toe with the Patversemese guardsman.

  “Quite right. But I am authorized. I am ahaladkaaslane and I am in Kodu Riik. So I go where I please. I please to go inside. I suggest you step aside, or there’s going to be a brawl.” Reisil met his sneering gaze squarely. Inside she trembled. It was though she had donned a mask. If he pushed any more, tore it as
ide—they would all know she was faking this bravado. A brawl? She’d be bowled over in a matter of seconds. Fight? Never in her life had she so much as slapped anyone. Not even Juhrnus.

  The Kallas guardsmen had begun to gather around, eyeing their Patversemese counterparts with patent loathing. Reisil clutched her shaking hands together. She glared at the guardsman, praying to the Lady that he’d back down. At last he stepped back and pounded on the door with his fist. Reisil felt weak at the knees with relief.

  “You can go in,” he said to her. “But not him.”

  Reisil turned to Leidiik. “I’ll remember what you said.”

  He nodded and gave her a salute. “Good luck, ahaladkaaslane . May the Blessed Lady smile on you and Kodu Riik.” He marched off, returning to his post. Reisil entered Varitsema’s villa. The door swung shut behind her with a thump. Patversemese guards in the lobby eyed her coldly, but said nothing. Varitsema’s steward, a thin, harriedlooking man, gave her a short bow, staring at Saljane with wide eyes.

  “Follow me. This way.” He led her up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. It was a very plain house, Reisil noted, though peaceful and cool. Moss-green tiles lined the floors, and the walls were painted creamy white above a honey-colored wainscoting. She caught a glimpse of bright-colored paintings and tapestries before the steward stopped at a set of double doors and knocked softly. The door opened and he spoke to someone within. The door closed and they waited for a few moments. The steward shifted back and forth, running a finger around the top of the wainscoting, tsking to himself. He brushed the dust from his hands and flashed a nervous look at Reisil. Saljane ruffled her feathers and the little man started. The door opened again and the steward motioned for Reisil to enter.

  ~Here we go. Are you ready for this?

  Saljane’s reply broke over Reisil like a drowning wave. No words, just animal ferocity, hunger for the enemy, willingness to rend, tear and kill.

  Reisil faltered in the threshold, caught herself and continued on. The door closed behind with the echo of a tomb. She resisted the urge to turn and hammer on it. Ceriba, she reminded herself. And war. You are ahaladkaaslane. However much you fought it, you must behave as such now. She heard Elutark’s voice in her mind. You are what you pretend to be.