He passed over three or four spots that looked perfectly acceptable to me, before swooping down to land.
“Why this place?” I asked.
“There were three young kishorn hidden in some trees, back there. This is far enough away from them.”
“I didn’t see them – oh, you can connect to kishorn, too?”
He nodded, grinning. “It is one of the benefits to being byan shar.” A shadow crossed his face. “Perhaps the only benefit. You did not detect them?” He tapped his head.
“No. My ability is much weaker than yours. I can only connect with a few beasts, and I can’t find mushrooms the way you can.”
The smile returned at once. “That way, just beyond that huge boulder. There are some berries left on the bushes just downstream, plenty of herbs and any number of rodents underground.”
“Rodents?” I pulled a face.
He laughed at my dismay. “They are delicious, cooked the right way. Not as fine as plains moundrats, but these are a similar type, only smaller. Can you gather some firewood while I prepare the fireplace? And some sticks about this long, quite thick and not too flexible.”
“Quite thick and… Hmm. Should I ask?”
“To skewer the rodents, of course. We have no cooking pot for a proper stew, so we will cook them over the fire.”
Once the fire was ablaze, Ly said, “You stay here and warm yourself. I am going to sit over there and call some rodents.”
He picked up the pile of straight of sticks and took himself a little way off, sitting cross-legged on the ground, his back against a rock, eyes closed. He stayed unmoving for some time, and I wondered whether he’d dozed off. Then I noticed movement near his feet. Rodents. It was true, they were very like the giant moundrats of the plains, but smaller, not much bigger than a hare. There were several of them, their brown fur almost indistinguishable from the winter grass and bracken, so that they were invisible unless they moved.
Ly opened his eyes and held out one hand. Immediately one of the creatures hopped into it. Ly’s other hand shot out, his knife flashed and the animal lay still. The others scattered. Ly moved to another spot and repeated the procedure. Again they came, and another creature’s throat was slashed. When he had four, he took them to the river, gutted, skinned and cleaned them, and skewered them for the fire. The whole process had taken perhaps half an hour.
He was right, they were delicious stuffed with herbs and berries. Ly heated a stone to cook the mushrooms in the dripping juices, and they were wonderful too.
When Ly had finished eating, and I was just nibbling at the bones, I said, “How does it work, this memory business? Doesn’t it drive you mad, having your head filled with so many other people’s memories? And how do you ever sort them out?”
He hesitated. The flickering flames gave his face a grotesque appearance, and I couldn’t tell whether he was upset or irritated by the questions. The Blood Clans were a secretive people, and even though I was Ly’s wife, there was much he wouldn’t – or couldn’t – share with me.
“It is not quite like that,” he said slowly.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance, hurling the rodent bones into the fire, where they spat and sizzled. It was astonishing to me how many things in his culture were ‘not quite like that’. I could never work out whether they really were that vague and uncertain, or whether it was just a polite way of refusing to tell me.
He was sitting cross-legged beside me, his arms wrapped around his knees, but now he half rose, and knelt in front of me. “Princess, I wish to hide nothing from you, but I do not know how I can explain something I do not understand myself. I am so sorry.”
Even in the ever-changing firelight, I could see the distress written in his face. “Hush.” I put one finger to his lips. “We’re both tired. Let’s get some sleep, and get this mission over with, and when we get back to the Keep, maybe we can talk about it again. If you wish.”
“Yes.” His expression lightened. “It is easier to think at the Keep. There is not so much going on around me.”
“Going on?”
“The kishorn are moving about. There is a cougar following them. A couple of foxes, some wild goats, any number of hares, two owls…”
“And all those rodents.”
He nodded. “I should like to sleep now, if you permit. Diamond and Sunshine will keep watch. You may take the shelter. I will sleep under those bushes.”
“Nonsense! We will share the shelter. It’s too cold for you to sleep in the open.” He opened his mouth to protest, but I held up a hand. “No argument. It’ll be warmer if we cuddle up together.”
After a tiny hesitation, he said, “As you wish, Drina.”
The shelter was no more than a skin sheet, stretched on poles at an angle from the ground, like half a tent. Not sophisticated, but it would protect us from the worst of the weather. With bracken beneath us, and blankets and cloaks to wrap in, it would serve the purpose.
Ly curled around my back as usual, and even through my winter clothes I could feel his state of arousal. I rolled round to face him.
“Would you like to do something about that?” I whispered, rubbing it gently.
His intake of breath was audible, but he said softly, “It is not my night.”
“Does that matter? We’re here together, we’re married, why shouldn’t we if we want to?”
“Because when we go back, I want to be able to look Arran in the eye. Tonight you belong to him. Three nights from now – that will be my time with you.”
He would never give in, I knew that, not unless I forced him. He was so easy-going and gentle, in many ways, but utterly unyielding in others.
“You know, Ly, it’s been five years. Don’t you think you’ve been punished enough? You don’t have to suffer for the rest of your life.”
“Yes I do.” His voice was a mere thread. “I did terrible things, and many people died. I can never be punished enough for that evil.”
“Will you hold me tight, then?”
“I will.” He pulled me closer, murmuring in his own language, “Goodnight, sweet Princess. Thank you for saving me.”
Eventually, I slept.
~~~~~
The cold woke me long before dawn. The fire had died down almost to nothing, Ly had rolled away from me in his sleep and I was frozen to my very bones. I crunched through heavy frost to the fire and tossed some wood onto it, crouching as close to it as I dared. Above me, a canopy of stars sparkled in the darkness.
Sunshine was asleep, but Diamond, Ly’s eagle, clicked his beak at me in contentment, not in the least discomfited by the cold. Oh, to be wrapped in feathers, snug and warm! Even my fur-lined jacket and boots were not enough to keep the frost out. Diamond inched closer, and then settled on the ground, the invitation in his mind quite clear. Gratefully, I snuggled next to him, half-buried in feathers, luxuriating in the warmth that emanated from him.
I must have dozed off, for the next thing I knew, it was light, and Ly’s concerned face hovered above me, a steaming mug in one hand.
“Your herbs, princess. Are you… all right? Did I offend you?”
“I’m fine. I was cold, but Diamond kept me warm.”
“You should have woken me.”
“No need. Thank you for the herbs.”
Apart from the drinks, our morning meal was cold. We ate quickly, keen to get airborne and fly away from our frosty little valley, still shaded by the hills to the east. Ly began to pack our things.
“We could leave everything here,” I said. “We’ll be staying here again tonight, after all.”
Ly shook his head, his soft curls bouncing. “No. Always take everything with you, because you never know what might happen to change your plans. You might decide you have seen enough by noon, for instance, and then we could be half way home by nightfall.”
I shrugged. He was the expert on camping in wild places, after all. Besides, it was not much of a camp, so we were aloft in less than an hour. We spiralled hi
gh over the foothills, and I looked through Sunshine’s eyes at the town on the far side of the river. In one corner was what looked like the original walled town, large enough to enclose a village, a few fields and some grazing land. Then a second wall increasing the size perhaps fourfold, as the little settlement grew.
But the third wall enclosed a vast area, ten or perhaps twenty times the previous size. Fully half of it was the army barracks, a monstrous complex that sprawled in an endless array of low, rectangular buildings and watchtowers arranged around courtyards. I tried, and failed, to count windows and estimate the number of soldiers who might be accommodated there. And how much was hidden underground?
I needed to get closer. Through Sunshine, I connected mentally to Ly and told him what I planned.
“Stay high!” he said in my mind, the words infused with excitement and a little worry.
I knew enough to keep out of arrow range, but I had to fly lower to see more clearly. With the thought, Sunshine began to glide down towards the town. We crossed the river, brown and turgid, flying low enough for me to make out trains of wagons splashing through the ford, and rafts being punted across. On the banks, work was going on to build a bridge.
Almost before I was aware of it, we flew over the outer wall of the town, and were above the barracks. A lazy flap or two of her wings, and Sunshine gained a little height, but we were low enough for me to see clearly through her keen eyes. And now that I could see all the windows clearly, my heart sank, for there were far, far more than I could count. How many people must live in such a complex? Thousands, many, many thousands—
Something crashed into me.
That was what it felt like, anyway, a heart-stopping jolt that almost kicked me out of the saddle. One moment we were flying peacefully at a good height above the barracks, the next we were hurled into a maelstrom that sent us careering and spinning wildly, winds battering us relentlessly.
Sunshine screeched, her great wings struggling to escape the power of the storm, but we were buffeted here and there, tossed upwards to a great height, and then spun down again, then upside down and falling, falling. All the while unearthly winds hammered at us from all sides. I could do nothing but cling desperately to the narrow leather strap and hope that Sunshine could fly us out of the whirlwind.
Closing my eyes, I hung on, trying to soothe the panic in Sunshine’s mind. But something tickled at me, something warm and tingling. Magic. This was no natural storm. I couldn’t focus on it, not when I didn’t even know which way was up, and terror was rising in my throat to choke me.
Sunshine screamed in pain. I felt it as much as she did, the sudden lack of balance, her wing broken by an even greater burst from the gale.
Anger washed over me. Someone had created this evil storm to hurt us, maybe to kill us, but I was not going to give in tamely. Magic I could deal with. Fate, or the gods, had given me a defence against it.
Shutting Sunshine’s agony out of my mind as best I could, I opened myself to the magic in the wind and drew it all into me.
Instantly the wind was gone.
But we were not safe. Sunshine could not fly, could barely glide. We careered down and down, lurching this way and that, one moment level, the next practically sideways. The river glittered below us, then open grassland and in moments we were above the hills, gashed with ravines and littered with boulders. The jagged rocks rose up to meet us.
Then there was only pain, and darkness.
4: Healing
I don’t remember much. Ly’s white face bending over me, eyes wide with fear. Saying something… Couldn’t focus, too much pain, Sunshine’s agony blending with my own. Ly’s voice again, louder. “Mage, Drina! Send a mage for Sunshine!”
Two or three times I half woke, finding myself tightly strapped to an eagle’s back. Not Sunshine, she was broken. Must have been Ly’s eagle. Rain stung my face, but the pain was easier, just a dull ache in one arm and my side. My body was warm, full of the magic I’d taken from the wind.
Then many hands lifting me, shouted orders, people running. Pain again. Several eagles screeching.
The next thing I knew, I was in bed, a face bending anxiously over me. Arran’s face. Thank the gods! I was safe.
“She is awake,” he said.
Another voice. “I will fetch her.” Then boots rapping on the floor, a door opening and closing with a click. Eagles screeched in the distance.
“Drina? How do you feel?” That was Arran again.
A second face leaning over me. Flenn, one of the younger mages, one of the few who’d learned to fly an eagle.
Urgency prickled at me. “Mage…” I murmured.
“Yes, Most Powerful?” Flenn said. “I am here. What do you need?”
“Sunshine…”
“Sunshine?” He turned to Arran in bewilderment.
“Her eagle. Drina, where is Sunshine? And Ly?”
“Hurt…”
“Ly? Something has happened to Ly?” His voice was sharp with fear.
“Sunshine. Mage. Broken wing. Needs mage.”
“But where? How can I find her?” That was Flenn again.
“Diamond,” I muttered.
“Ly’s eagle,” Arran said. “He is still up on the roof. He will show you where to go.”
Flenn whisked away, and I lay back, exhausted but satisfied. Diamond would take Flenn to Ly and Sunshine, and my eagle would be healed by Flenn’s magic. Arran helped me to sit up, gave me sips of water, stroked my hair and kissed me softly on the forehead, but he said nothing, asked no questions. In one corner of the room, my bodyguard stood, impassive. In another, two waiting women whispered together. It was blessedly peaceful. I had no pain, no discomfort, just a fuzziness in my head and the residual warmth of magic.
The door burst open and Yannassia swept in with Torthran, followed by a retinue of bodyguards, mages, waiting women and scribes, most of whom were promptly chased out again.
“Drina!” Yannassia said. “Thank all the gods! How do you feel?” She was wearing her most formal regalia, all stiff brocade, lace and gold thread. She must have walked out of an assembly as soon as word came that I was awake.
“I feel… a little tired.”
“No pain?” she said, perching on the edge of the bed. “Flenn said your arm was broken in three places, and ribs, too. He spent an age putting you back together.”
I smiled at that. “Should have sent for Mother.”
Yannassia made a non-committal grunt. “Kyra may be the world’s most powerful mage, but even for her, bones are tricky things to mend.”
“But she is coming,” Torthran added, one hand resting on Yannassia’s shoulder. “We sent word straight away.”
I smiled, but so much talk had exhausted me. My eyes closed.
“She needs to rest now, so you had better leave,” Arran said, and if I’d had the strength I would have laughed at him ordering the Drashona out.
“One more question. Drina, what of Ly? Is he injured too?”
“Think he’s all right,” I whispered. “He put me on Diamond. Sent me home.”
“Flenn will tell us when he gets back.” That was Torthran again, always the calm voice of reason.
“So he will.” The bed shifted as Yannassia got to her feet. “Sleep now, dear, and tomorrow you shall tell me exactly what happened. As soon as Ly is back, I shall order a festival of celebration for your safe return.”
She swept out as briskly as she’d arrived, back to whatever important ceremony had been disrupted.
As the room fell back into calming silence, I became aware of the faintest whisper of a voice in my head, thin and distant.
“Princess? Princess! Are you all right?”
~~~~~
The following morning, Mother arrived in a lather of indignation that anyone or anything had dared to injure her daughter. She’d even flown to Kingswell by eagle, something she would only agree to in an extreme emergency. She bustled in, pushing Arran aside, and plonked herself down on the
bed. “Well, you look better than I expected. May I?”
She reached for my hand, resting it in both her own, brown against white. No one to look at us would guess that I, so dark, came from someone with such pale skin and red hair. In looks, I was entirely my father’s daughter.
As soon as she touched me, her magic fizzed around me, golden and healthful. Mother was a natural mage, one of only a few people able to connect directly to magic and hold it inside herself. Officially, she was called a Fire Mage, and the mage mark on her forehead was a tiny flame. My father had had the same ability, before he died. As a child, I’d needed Mother’s magic to keep me well, but now I had Ly’s magic for that, and I was still full to overflowing with magic from the unnatural storm.
“Well, that seems to be in order,” she said. It always amazed me that, just by touching, she could see inside and identify any illness or weakness of the body. And heal most things, too. “But whatever happened to you? Did you fall off Sunshine?”
I explained as best I could, although I didn’t understand it myself.
“A magical wind? How strange!” she said.
“Could you do that?” I asked.
She pondered, head tipped to one side. “Possibly. It’s not something I’ve ever tried, but moving air – yes, that could be done. I’ll experiment a bit. Maybe there’s another natural mage out at – where was it? Something Ford?”
“Greenstone Ford. Maybe, but I’ve never heard of mages out on the plains before. The Karningers don’t even believe in magic. All the natural mages we know about came from Bennamore.”
She chewed her lip, frowning. “I’m sure there was one from the coast, years ago. Before I came to Kingswell.”
“Yes, I read about him. He was born in Bennamore. And conceived here, more to the point. The Blood Clans believe that where a child is conceived affects what beast or plant it will have a connection to. You must have been conceived close to a strong source of magic, like a scribery.”
“I don’t know. Maybe on one of my father’s visits to Ardamurkan.” She shrugged.
“Don’t you ever wonder why you’re so different?” I said, smiling at her. “Almost every other mage needs a vessel full of magic to power their spells, but you don’t. Natural mages are so rare – but why are there any? It seems unnecessary to me.”
The Second God Page 4