"Grab his mane! Jump! Hold on with your knees."
She did as he said, found herself on the horse's back, and nearly fell off his other side. She clamped her legs around him and he sprang forward. Both the reins were on one side of his neck—Wess knew that was not right. She pulled on them and he twisted in a circle and almost threw her again. Aristarchus urged his horse forward and grabbed the stallion's bridle. The animal stood spraddle-legged, ears flat back, nostrils flaring, trembling between Wess's legs. She hung onto his mane, terrified. Her broken ribs hurt so badly she felt faint.
Aristarchus leaned forward, blew gently into the stallion's nostrils, and spoke to him so quietly Wess could not hear the words. Slowly, easily, the troll straightened out the reins. The animal gradually relaxed, and his ears pricked forward again.
"Be easy on his mouth, frejojan," the troll said to Wess. "He's a good creature, just frightened."
"I have to find my friends," Wess said.
"Where are you to meet them?"
Aristarchus's calm voice helped her regain her composure.
"Over there." She pointed to a shadowed recess beyond the tent. Aristarchus started for it, still holding her horse's bridle. The animals stepped delicately over broken equipment and abandoned clothing.
Quartz and Chan ran from the shadowed side of the tent. Quartz was laughing. Through the chaos she saw Wess, tagged Chan on the shoulder to get his attention, and changed direction to hurry toward Wess.
"Did you see them fly?" Quartz cried. "They outflew eagles!"
"As long as they outflew arrows," Aristarchus said dryly. "Hurry, you, the big one, up behind me, and you," he said to Chan, "behind Wess." J- They did as he ordered. Quartz kicked the horse and he sprang forward, but Aristarchus reined him in.
"Slowly, children," the troll said. "Slowly through the dark, and no one will notice."
To Wess's surprise, he was quite correct.
In the city they kept the horses at the walk, and Quartz concealed Aristarchus beneath her cloak. The uproar fell behind them, and no one chased them. Wess clutched the stallion's mane, still feeling very insecure so high above the ground.
A direct escape from Sanctuary did not lead them past the Unicorn, or indeed into the Maze at all, but they decided to risk going back; the risk of traveling unequipped through the mountains this late in the fall was too great. They approached the Unicom through back alleys, and saw almost no one. Apparently the denizens of the Maze were as fond of entertainments as anyone else in Sanctuary. No doubt the opportunity to watch their prince extricate himself from a collapsed tent was almost the best entertainment of the evening. Wess would not have minded watching that herself.
Leaving the horses hidden in shadow with Aristarchus, they crept quietly up the stairs to their room, stuffed belongings in their packs, and started out again
"Young gentleman and his ladies, good evening."
Wess spun around, Quartz right beside her gripping her sword. The tavern-keeper flinched back from them, but quickly recovered himself.
"Well," he said to Chan, sneering. "I thought they were one thing, but I see they are your bodyguards."
Quartz grabbed him by the shirt front and lifted him off the floor. Her broadsword scraped from its scabbard.
"I forswore the frenzy when I abandoned war," she said very quietly. "But you are very nearly enough to make me break my oath." She opened her hand and he fell to his knees.
"I meant no harm, my lady—"
"Do not call my 'lady'I I am not of noble birth! I was a soldier and I am a woman. If that cannot deserve your courtesy, then you cannot command my mercy."
"I meant no harm, I meant no offense. I beg your pardon ..." He looked up into her unreadable silver eyes. "I beg your pardon, northern woman."
There was no contempt in his voice now, only terror, and^to Wess that was just as bad. She and Quartz could expect nothing here, except to be despised or feared. They had no other choices.
Quartz sheathed her sword. "Your silver is on the table," she said coldly. "We had no mind to cheat you."
He scrabbled up and away from them, into the room.
Quartz grabbed the key from the inside, slammed the door, and locked it.
"Let's get out of here."
They clattered down the stairs. In the street, they tied the packs together and to the horses' harnesses as best they could. Above, they heard the innkeeper banging at the door, and when he failed to break it down, he came to the window.
"Help!" he cried. "Help, kidnappers! Brigands!" Quartz vaulted up behind Aristarchus and Chan clambered up behind Wess. "Help!" the innkeeper cried. "Help, fire! Floods!"
Aristarchus gave his horse his head and it sprang forward. Wess's stallion tossed his mane, blew his breath out hard and loud, and leaped from a standstill into a gallop. All Wess could do was hold on, clutching the mane and the harness, hunching over the horse's withers, as he careered down the street.
They galloped through the outskirts of Sanctuary, splashed across the river at the ford, and headed north along the river trail. The horses sweated into a lather and Aristarchus insisted on slowing down and breathing them. Wess saw the sense of that, and, too, she could detect no pursuit from the city. She scanned the sky, but darkness hid any sign of the flyers.
Abandoning the headlong pace, they walked the horses or let them jog. Each step jarred Wess's ribs. She tried to concentrate on pushing out the pain, but to do it well she needed to stop, dismount, and relax. That was impossible right now. The road and the night led on forever.
At dawn, they reached the faint abandoned trail Wess had brought them in on. It led away from the road, directly up into the mountains.
The trees, black beneath the slate-blue sky, closed in overhead. Wess felt as if she had fought her way out of a nightmare world into a world she knew and loved. She did not yet feel free, but she could consider the possibility of feeling free again.
"Chad?"
"I'm here, love."
She took his hand, where he held her gingerly around the ,waist, and kissed his palm. She leaned back against him, and he held her.
A stream gushed between the gnarled roots of trees, beside the nearly invisible trail.
"We should stop and let the horses rest," Aristarchus said. "And rest, ourselves."
"There's a clearing a little way ahead," Wess said. "It has grass. They eat grass, don't they?"
Aristarchus chuckled. 'They do, indeed."
When they reached the clearing, Quartz jumped down, stumbled, groaned, and laughed. "It's a long time since I rode horseback," she said. She helped Aristarchus off. Chan dismounted and stood testing his legs after the long ride. Wess sat where she was. She felt as if she were looking at the world through Lythande's secret sphere.
The sound of great wings filled the cold dawn. Satan and Aerie landed in the center of the clearing and hurried toward them.
Wess twined her fingers in the skewbald's stripped mane and slid off his back. She leaned against his shoulder, exhausted, taking short shallow breaths. She could hear Chan and Quartz greeting the flyers. But Wess could not move.
"Wess?"
She turned slowly, still holding the horse's mane. Satan smiled down at her. She was used to flyers being lean, but they were sleek: Satan was gaunt, his ribs and hips sharp beneath his skin. His short fur was dull and dry, and besides the scars on his back he had marks on his ankles, and around his throat, where he had been bound.
"Oh, Satan—" She embraced him, and he enfolded her in his wings.
"It's done," he said. "It's over." He kissed her gently. Everyone gathered around him. He brushed the back of his hand softly down the side of Quartz's face, and bent down to kiss Chad.
"Frejdjani. . ."He looked at them all, then, as a tear spilled down his cheek, he wrapped himself in his wings and cried.
They held him and caressed him until the racking sobs ceased. Ashamed, he scrubbed away the tears with the palm of his hand. Aristarchus stood nearby, blinki
ng his large green eyes.
"You must think me an awful fool, Aristarchus, a fool, and weak."
The troll shook his head. "I think, when I can finally believe I'm free . . ."He looked at Wess. "Thank you."
They sat beside the stream to rest and talk.
"It's possible that we aren't even being followed," Quartz said.
"We watched the city, till you entered the forest," Aerie said. "We saw no one else on the river road."
"Then they might not have realized anyone but another flyer helped Satan escape. If no one saw us fell the tent—"
Wess reached into the stream and splashed her face, cupped her hand in the water, and lifted it to her lips. The first rays of direct sunlight pierced the branches and entered the clearing.
Her hand was still bloody. The blood was mixing with the water. She choked and spat, lurched to her feet, and bolted. A few paces away she fell to her knees • and retched violently.
There was nothing in her stomach but bile. She crawled to the stream and scrubbed her hands, then her face, with sand and water. She stood up again. Her friends were staring at her, shocked.
"There was someone," she said. "Bauchle Meyne. But I killed him."
"Ah," Quartz said.
"You've given me another gift," Satan said. "Now I don't have to go back and kill him myself."
"Shut up, Satan, she's never killed anyone before."
"Nor have I. But I would have ripped out his throat if just once he'd left the chains slack enough for me to reach him!"
Wess wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ease the ache in her ribs. Suddenly Quartz was beside her.
"You're hurt—why didn't you tell me?"
Wess shook her head, unable to answer. And then she fainted.
She woke up at midafternoon, lying in the shade of a tall tree in a circle of her friends. The horses grazed nearby, and Aristarchus sat on a stone beside the stream, combing the tangles from his fur. Wess got up and went to sit beside him.
"Did you call my name?"
"No," he said.
"I thought I heard—" She shrugged. "Never mind."
"How are you feeling?"
"Better." Her ribs were bandaged tight. "Quartz is a good healer."
"No one is following. Aerie looked, a little while ago."
"That's good. May I comb your back for you?"
"That would be a great kindness."
In silence, she combed him, but she was paying very little attention. The third time the comb caught on a knot, Aristarchus protested quietly.
"Sister, please, that fur you're plucking is attached to my skin."
"Oh, Aristarchus, I'm sorry. ..."
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know," she said. "I feel—I want—I. ..." She handed him the comb and stood. "I'm going to walk up the trail a little way. I won't be gone long."
In the silence of the forest she felt easier, but there was something pulling her, something calling to her that she could not hear.
And then she did hear something, a rustling of leaves. She faded back off the trail, hiding herself, and waited.
Lythande walked slowly, tiredly, along the trail. Wess was so surprised that she did not speak as the wizard passed her, but a few paces on, Lythande stopped and looked around, frowning.
"Westerly?"
Wess stepped into sight. "How did you know I was there?"
"I felt you near. . . . How did you find me?"
"I thought I heard someone call me. Was that a spell?"
"No. Just a hope." •
"You look so tired, Lythande."
Lythande nodded. "I received a challenge. I answered it."
"And you won—"
"Yes." Lythande smiled bitterly. "I still walk the earth and wait for the days of Chaos. If that is winning, then I won."
"Come back to camp and rest and eat with us."
"Thank you, little sister. I will rest with you. But your friend—you found him?"
"Yes. He's free."
"You all escaped unhurt?"
Wess shrugged, and was immediately sorry for it. "I did crack my ribs this time." She did not want to talk about the deeper hurts.
"And now—are you going home?"
"Yes."
Lythande smiled. "I might have known you would find the Forgotten Pass."
They walked together back toward camp. A little scared by her own presumption, Wess reached out and took the wizard's hand in hers. Lythande did not draw away, but squeezed her fingers gently.
"Westerly—" Lythande looked at her straight on, and Wess stopped. "Westerly, would you go back to Sanctuary?"
Stunned and horrified, Wess said, "Why?"
"It isn't as bad as it seems at first. You could learn many things. ..."
"About being a wizard?"
Lythande hesitated. "It would be difficult, but—it might be possible. It is true that your talents should not be wasted."
"You don't understand," Wess said. "I don't want to be a wizard. I wouldn't go back to Sanctuary if that were the reason."
Lythande said, finally, "That isn't the only reason."
Wess took Lythande's hand between her own, drew it to her lips, and kissed the palm. Lythande reached up and caressed Wess's cheek. Wess shivered at the touch.
"Lythande, I can't go back to Sanctuary. You would be the only reason I was there—and it would change me. It did change me. I don't know if I can go back to being the person I was before I came here, but I'm going to try. Most of what I did learn there I would rather never have known. You must understand me!"
"Yes," Lythande said. "It was not fair of me to ask."
"It isn't that I wouldn't love you," Wess said, and Lythande looked at her sharply. Wess took as deep a breath as she could, and continued. "But what I feel for you would change, too, as I changed. It wouldn't be love anymore. It would be ... need, and demand, and envy."
Lythande sat on a tree root, shoulders slumped, and stared at the ground. Wess knelt beside her and smoothed her hair back from her forehead.
"Lythande. ..."
"Yes, little sister," the magician whispered, as if she were too tired to speak aloud.
"You must have important work here." How could she bear it otherwise? Wess thought. She is going to laugh at you for what you ask her, and explain how foolish it is, and how impossible. "And Kaimas, my home . . . you would find it dull—" She stopped, surprised at herself for her hesitation and her fear. "You come with me, Lythande," she said abruptly. "You come home with me."
Lythande stared at her, her expression unreadable. "Did you mean what you said—"
"It's so beautiful, Lythande. And peaceful. You've met half my family already. You'd like the rest of them, too! You said you had things to learn from us."
"—about loving me?"
Wess caught her breath. She leaned forward and kissed Lythande quickly, then, a second time, slowly, as she had wanted to since the moment she saw her.
She drew back a little.
"Yes," she said. "Sanctuary made me lie, but I'm not in Sanctuary now. With any luck I'll never see it again, and never have to lie anymore."
"If I had to go—"
Wess grinned. "I might try to persuade you to stay." She touched Lythande's hair. "But I wouldn't try to hold you. As long as you wanted to stay, and whenever you wanted to come back, you'd have a place in Kaimas."
"It isn't your resolve I doubt, little sister, It's my own. And my own strength. I think I would not want to leave your home, once I'd been there for a while."
"I can't see the future," Wess said. Then she laughed at herself, for what she was saying to a wizard. "Perhaps you can."
Lythande made no reply.
"All I know," Wess said, "is that anything anyone does might cause pain. To oneself, to a friend. But you cannot do nothing." She stood up. "Come. Come sleep, with me and my friends. And then we'll go home."
Lythande stood up too. "There's so much you don't know about me, little sister. So
much of it could hurt you."
Wess closed her eyes, wishing, like a child at twilight seeking out a star. She opened her eyes again.
Lythande smiled. "I will come with you. If only for a while."
They walked together, hand in hand, to join the others.
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