The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  The sun was well above the horizon before we quietened down, curled up in a heap like moundrat pups, and gently drifted into a contented sleep.

  ~~~~~

  I’d imagined that the effects of Ly’s blood would show themselves slowly, over the whole moon of our bonding camp. But as soon as I woke, I knew I was wrong. It was as if the whole world had shifted very slightly overnight, so that it was essentially the same, and yet unutterably different. There were scents and colours and an awareness of every living creature that I’d never had before. It was hazy, but there was so much out there that I wanted to explore.

  Closing my eyes again, I let my mind reach out. And the first thing it encountered, faint but sure, was Arran. He was right beside me, still slumbering, and if I’d rolled over I could have reached out to stroke his face. Instead I touched him with my mind, so delicately that I wouldn’t wake him. I could detect his consciousness now, just as I could the eagles or Ly. Ah, where was Ly?

  There he was, not far away, near the fire. His magic blazed as fiery as ever, but his mind was open to me as well. I detected a deep contentment in him, but also a little pain. His hand was still sore. I reached out to make contact with him. He responded with a fizz of excitement, mingled with amusement.

  “Good morning, Princess.” The words were in my head as clearly as if he’d spoken them.

  “Good morning. Is the brew ready yet?”

  Stronger amusement. “It has been ready for some time. Arran?”

  “Still asleep.”

  “Will you not come and join me? I am on the far side of the fire.”

  “I know where you are.”

  That brought another burst of amusement. I slipped on my clothes and edged past Arran’s recumbent form. He was lying on his side, one arm stretched above his head, the other sprawled out in front of him. His hair was tousled and I had a sudden urge to run my hands through it, and kiss him hard. But perhaps we’d done enough of that for a few hours.

  I ignored the ladder, which was rough and splintery, and jumped down to the sand below. I found Ly crouched beside the fire, feeding it wood. He was right, the brew had been steeping for hours, so it was thick and bitter. I didn’t mind, as long as it was hot.

  “How do you feel?” Ly said quietly, smiling up at me.

  It was a broad question, but I had no idea how to answer it. How could I explain that I was strangely aware of the world this morning? It was too vague. So I stuck to the simplest response.

  “I’m fine. And I can detect Arran. And you. Apart from your magic, of course. I can always detect that. But before, I could only contact your mind when you let me. Now – it feels different.”

  “You will always know where I am, Princess, and Arran too. And I will always know where you are, however far apart we may be.”

  “And Arran? Will he know where we are, too?”

  He hesitated. “That remains to be seen. I cannot predict his response to my blood. You have long had a connection to me, and to your eagle, so it is easier. But are you truly well? You look it, but—”

  “If last night didn’t convince you that I’m perfectly well, nothing ever will.”

  He actually blushed, but there was another burst of amusement in his mind. “Yes, you seemed quite energetic. But your hand – how does that feel? Does it hurt a lot?”

  I wiggled it experimentally. “Actually, it doesn’t hurt at all. Is that a good sign or a bad sign?”

  He frowned. “I am not sure. May I remove the bandage and have a look?”

  But when he did, all that remained of the deep gash was a thin white line. The cut had healed completely.

  “Interesting,” Ly said. “Do you normally heal so quickly?”

  I thought about that. As a child, I’d been so lethargic that I never ran around or climbed trees like other children, so I escaped the usual grazes and bumps. If ever I was ill, my mother would bustle in and fill me with her healing magic, which she was allowed to do for anyone in the mages’ house, even without paying the usual silver. So I never had an opportunity to heal naturally. At Kingswell, the worst I could recall was stabbing my finger once with the nib of a pen. But now that I remembered, it was sore for a ten-sun or more, and eventually festered and had to be treated by the mages.

  “No, or at least I never used to heal fast,” I said. “But when… when I was taken to your home by the great lake, I noticed then that my injuries were almost gone the next morning.”

  “Injuries?” His face was pained. “You were hurt? I did not know.”

  “Your people… your lion guard tied me up and dragged me to that castle building, remember? One of them hit me, and they pushed me around quite a lot. I was bruised in a lot of places, but they were better the next morning.”

  “I did not realise you were hurt. I am sorry, Princess.”

  I shrugged. “Long time ago. You were distracted by everything else going on at the time.”

  “Yes, my magic was… more difficult to manage then. Especially when you were around. But this healing power – you never thought to mention it?”

  “I’d forgotten about it, to tell you the truth. Isn’t it just that I had your magic in me after we’d… you know?”

  “No, no. That is not how it works. My magic cannot heal. That is why I came to Bennamore in the first place, remember? We needed your mages. But if you have healing power…” He shook his head, and his expression was worried. “This is very strange. I do not know what it means, but I do not like it.”

  “Isn’t it a good thing, healing?”

  “The healing is a good thing, yes. But that you can heal – that is a very bad thing, Princess.”

  17: The Black Eagle

  Our time at the bonding camp passed too quickly for me. I would happily have stayed there for ever with no one but my two men for company. I had no responsibilities, no calls on my time. Each sun brought something new, some advancement of my abilities, some new plant I could identify, or creature I could call to me. The mass of sensations in my mind resolved itself so that I could, like Ly, detect mountain lions roaming nearby, or decide to summon rodents for our evening meal, or find berries in one of the valleys that ran down the slopes from our hilltop. Herbs were beyond my skill for the moment, and I was happy to leave that to Ly. And it delighted me beyond measure that I always knew where Arran was and, from his mood, what he was doing. Even when he was far away from me, I could still be with him.

  Arran’s abilities grew much more slowly and sporadically. At first, there seemed to be no change in him at all, but on the third morning, he woke and was aware of me. A sun or two later, Ly. And then, in little bursts, the eagles, lions and other creatures. It was a long time before he could communicate with his mind, as Ly and I did, until I remembered how difficult I’d found it at first.

  “I couldn’t talk to Ly at all,” I said, as we bathed in the lake one afternoon. “It was so maddening, because he was in my head, but I couldn’t find a way into his head. But one time I just spoke aloud, and that worked.”

  “Oh. So if I think it and say it? Like this? Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I said, laughing, “but you’re right beside me. Try Ly.”

  “Oh. Ly, can you hear me? This is Arran.” His face lit up with delight. “It works!”

  And from then on, he was constantly in my head when we were apart, a gentle burble, telling me whatever he was doing.

  Ly was the least changed, but that was only to be expected. He was the one with the magical blood, and although he now had our blood in him, there was no power in us to share with him. It enhanced our communication, but it gave him no added benefits. There was one change, though. Ever since his magic had returned, he’d been terrified to touch me because of the desire it awoke in him. It happened with every woman – the touch of a byan shar was irresistible, on both sides – but my unique need for magic drew him in its own way and amplified the effect a hundred-fold. But now that was gone. I could stroke his cheek or pat his hand without an
y fear of setting him instantly on fire. He still felt desire, of course, but it was the normal reaction of any man. And I found I could take as much or as little magic as I needed from him. It no longer resisted me.

  “I have left behind all trace of the age of regeneration,” Ly said. “I see now why the elders arrange to bring so many women to the byan shar at first. The magic has its own drive to reproduce, and it is easier not to fight it. As I tried to do, with disastrous consequences. I am so fortunate that I had you to save me, Princess. But now, my magic has matured and I can use it as I wish. It no longer drives me.”

  It was delightful to be able to kiss Ly whenever I wanted, and even more so when Arran was there and I could see in his mind no hint of jealousy. He could look into Ly’s mind and see the happiness that such a simple pleasure brought, and he knew that I liked it, too. So as often as not, he would rub my back and then say, “My turn.” Each evening after our meal we would walk round the lake, all three of us holding hands, kissing now and then, and it was wonderful, and the nights even more so.

  “Do you not find it strange?” Arran said to me one afternoon, as we sat dangling our feet over the edge of the platform. Ly had gone off to forage for food alone for a change.

  “Everything is strange at the moment,” I said, with a bubble of laughter. “Did you mean anything in particular?”

  He looked sideways at me with that smile that always made my heart turn over. “You know… the bed business. Being in each other’s head when we do things. It is very weird. Do you like that?”

  “Oh yes. Don’t you?”

  He reached for my hand, and began playing intently with my fingers, head down. “Yes, but… it makes me realise that… there was a lot I was not aware of.” Lifting his head, he looked me in the eye. “In bed, I mean. Pleasing you, without magic. I had no idea, and you never said anything, and—”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” I leaned forward to kiss him softly. “It never mattered to me.”

  “But Ly knew. All this time, I was just… just using you, selfishly, and he has been able to please you.”

  “Well, for a long time, that was the only thing that made sleeping with him bearable,” I said sharply. “I only ever wanted you, and at first it was torture to spend the night with him. It’s taken me years to grow to like him and eventually to love him, too. But you I loved from the first moment I set eyes on you, and I’ll love you until I go to the gods, and sex has nothing at all to do with that. I just want to be with you, always. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, and hugged me very tightly.

  There were only a few small troubles to worry us. Several times Arran had a strange kind of sweating, without fever or any sign of illness. He shrugged it off, but Ly was concerned about it, I could tell.

  Then there was the matter of the eagles. Although Arran could detect them very well, he hadn’t yet been able to bond fully with any of them, so there was no possibility of flying one.

  “It will come, in time,” Ly said, but Arran was dejected about it, all the same.

  But Ly was right. Three suns before the end of our bonding camp, Arran woke with a yell. “An eagle! I can talk to an eagle!”

  “Midnight? At last!”

  “No, not Midnight. I do not know this one. He is new.”

  I stretched out my mind and there he was, new to me as well. “He must be a wild one, attracted by the others.”

  “No, he has come for me,” Arran said. “He was in my dreams. I could fly, Drina! I could look down on the world, see all the hills and forests and river valleys spread out below me like a rug. And the camp! I could see the camp, and Ly fetching water from the lake. And this great mind, reaching out for me, welcoming me. And when I woke up, he was still there, I could still see through his eyes, and I could talk to him. He is happy to be with me.”

  I tried to look through the new eagle’s eyes, but I wasn’t able to, even though I could touch his mind. The eagle registered surprise at my presence, then something that could only be amusement. But he gave me a greeting of sorts. He was quite different from Sunshine, and from Diamond, too, and I could see exactly what Arran meant by the ‘great mind’. Eagles are intelligent birds in general, but this one was far superior.

  “If you go outside the shelter and look through the eagle’s eyes, you’ll be able to see yourself from above,” I said.

  Arran leapt up at once, and ran out onto the platform. And through Sunshine’s eyes, I could see him, small, naked, looking up at the sky, at his eagle.

  I followed him outside, and my breath caught in my throat. Arran’s eagle was a splendid creature, far larger than Diamond, and black from wingtip to wingtip, with just his beak and claws showing yellow, and a hint of a golden ruff around his throat. He circled once round the camp, then came into land with a great churning of air and sand and dust.

  “Look at the size of him!” Arran whispered. “Why would such a magnificent animal choose me?”

  “Are you expecting a compliment here? Something about your own magnificence, perhaps?”

  He turned a shocked face to me. “No such thing, Drina. I am as insignificant as a beetle beside him. But he chose me.”

  “Then put some clothes on and go to your eagle, my love. He’s waiting for you.”

  Ly and I watched from a distance as Arran got to know his bird, which lowered its great head so that the golden eye was level with Arran’s own.

  “I do not like this,” Ly said. “He is different, this bird, not like ours. Where has he come from? I have never seen one so big.”

  “Don’t they get huge when they bond early, and have many years to grow? Isn’t that the point of the byan shar breeding all those babies, so that their bonded animals are massive?”

  “Yes, but… there has not been enough time for any of the babies I sired to have created an animal of this size.”

  “Eagles are long-lived. Perhaps this one dates from the time of the last byan shar.”

  “Ah, yes. That would make sense.” But it didn’t ease the worry from his face.

  When Arran waved us over, we went to pay homage to the great creature. Above us, the other eagles glided in formation, their minds as full of awe as ours were. Respectfully we stroked the soft feathers, admired the brilliance of the bird’s eye, and shared the joy in Arran’s mind.

  “I have never seen a black one before,” Ly said. “At least you will not have to think up a new name for him. Midnight will suit him very well.”

  “Oh, no. His name is Kalmander,” Arran said.

  “Kalmander? What made you choose that name?”

  “I did not choose it,” Arran said. “It is his name, he told me so. He comes from the mountains of Shi-fashaa, and he has never been so far south before. He is very pleased to find someone to talk to.”

  We smiled and riffled the eagle’s feathers and made no comment, but it was a strange business, and it made Ly and me uneasy. Eagles were not normally so communicative, and Ly had never heard of one that knew its own name before.

  The following sun, Arran had his odd sweating again, but the sun after that he was well and he flew on his eagle for the first time, his excitement filling my head and making me laugh with joy. He had wanted this for so long, and now, seeing him up in the air, swooping and plunging and then rising again, those great wings carrying him effortlessly, I wept with joy for him. Once we were sure he had the hang of it, we all took to the skies, and wheeled and dived in unison. It was an exhilarating moment, but also a sad one, for that was to be our last night at the camp. Tomorrow we would leave.

  ~~~~~

  It seemed an age since we had left Lakeside, on foot, burdened with all that we needed for our time in the wilderness. We returned in style, Arran’s great eagle leading the way, Ly shadowing him on Diamond and poor Sunshine struggling to keep up. On either side, clusters of wild eagles that we’d acquired on our trip. Altogether, an impressive procession.

  This time, we were not going to the Bennamorian town. Our destinati
on was the Clanfolk’s trading village across the lake. Once, it had occupied the prime site south of the lake, level and open. But the war had brought changes, and the original clava had all gone, replaced first by the Bennamorian army’s supply camp, and now by the thriving new town. The Clanfolk had rebuilt on the far side of the lake, squeezed onto the narrow strip of land between the shore and the black-bark forest. Their building was easier than ours, for skin tents are quickly constructed, and they were well settled now, while Lakeside town would echo to the sound of the stonemason’s hammers for many years to come.

  There was no open space within the village suitable for eagles to land, so we drifted down some distance along the shore, and left the birds there to sun themselves. A bird as imposing as Kalmander was bound to attract attention, and a large crowd had gathered to greet us by the time we reached the edge of the village.

  It was my first experience of a crowd since the blood-sharing, and the many minds, human and animal, of a Clan village jostled in confusion in my head. At first, the noise was overwhelming and I had to shut them out, and I could see from the horrified expression on his face that Arran was having the same problem. I had learned to shut Ly and Arran out of my mind when I wished to, but there were too many individuals here for me to do that. I breathed hard and hoped that in time I would be able to cope with it better.

  The first face I saw, right in the centre of the group, was Ly’s mother, a small, plain woman, dressed in the standard skirt and tunic, with a scarf over her head and glass-bead bracelets tinkling on her arms. You’d have thought she would have been glad to see her son again, but no. There was not a hint of a smile on her face.

  “I greet you, my mother,” Ly said, with a formal acknowledgement, touching one hand to his forehead. He spoke in his own language, but I understood it perfectly. There were disadvantages to having such a powerful mental capability, and perhaps I would never be able to say more than a few basic phrases in the Clanfolk’s language, but the speaker’s intent would always be clear to me. I would not miss any subtle nuances for lack of knowledge.