by Andre Norton
“That’s it, Alysen. There is no more time. I will leave you.” I meant the words this time, and perhaps she sensed that, as she turned and finally got on the pony.
I kneed the cob and flicked the reins. The horse required no urging, fully realizing the threat and fearing for its life. It galloped north, faster than it should have given the darkness and the tangle of undergrowth and the promise of broken ground in the distance. But I did nothing to slow it. Dazon sped up, at the cob’s shoulder and easily keeping pace despite being worn down by the long day. I listened for the draft, close behind, and for the fell pony. Though I’d made a vow to keep Alysen safe, I had meant what I said about leaving her. There was no use in all of us dying just to settle her curiosity about the fose-bear or the strength of her magic.
I felt a drag upon my energy, from being awake so long and from tasting the breeze so often. A cold pain announced itself in my head and quickly settled into a punishing ache. Would the Green Ones’ will see us through until dawn?
Grazti whimpered and reached to its sides, grabbing the material of my leggings in its small hands. The creature prodded me with a claw, and when it had caught my attention, its wide, round eyes looking up into mine. It raised a webbed arm and pointed northeast. Grazti jabbed a squat finger with force for emphasis.
9
The path the bird-creature indicated was not quite the direction I’d intended to take. For some reason, however, I was willing to accept its guidance. We’d found Grazti in these woods, so perhaps the little beast was far more familiar with them … and I was far too tired not to consider its help.
The way slanted upward, and after well more than an hour of fast travel—I guessed at the passing of time because time and distance were fuzzy to me now—a section of the woods parted to make way for a small, rocky ridge. The ache in my head lessened, and I was entertaining thoughts that we’d managed to elude the fose-bear. The cob and Dazon appeared less nervous, too, though foam flecked Dazon’s mouth from the exertion.
We needed to stop and rest.
The dark seemed more intense here because of the shadows cast from the stone and because the clouds were thickening overhead, blotting out most of the starlight. What scant light found its way to the ground was made ghostlike by a low-lying haze.
Just staring at the haze relaxed me a little. It was shifting layers, thin ribbons of pale blue and eggshell white, twisting ever so slowly in the breeze.
There is magic in the world beyond my wyse-sense and beyond what the Nanoo master. It is greater than anything I can conjure, ancient and complex, and at the same time it is simple. The magic is nature itself, the beautiful haze that eased my mind away from thoughts of the fose-bear and the dead village, from Lady Ewaren’s corpse.
For the briefest instant I pictured the foot.…
There would be time to mourn, I promised myself, after Alysen and Grazti were with the Nanoo and I was on my own.
Then I let the haze hold my attention as the cob slowed, and Dazon slowed, and I heard the clip-clop of all the horses become rhythmic and almost restful. The peaceful night scene was lulling all of us, even Grazti.
All of us caught by the magic of the world.
I slipped from the cob’s back, taking Grazti with me, cradling the creature in my left arm and holding the reins with my right. The cob would do well to travel for just a little while without my weight on his back.
So drained.
I felt my shoulders slump, and I rolled my head to work a crick out of my neck. I managed a shuffling walk as I kept my eyes trained on the rocky ridge and the ribbons of haze. The last bit of fear for the fose-bear drained away. I knew if the monster was intent on us, it would have caught us by now.
I strained to make out features in the ridge, a futile attempt for the most part, but I could see two high-standing fangs of rock, the space between them doubly dark. Grazti stabbed its stubby finger directly at the dark spot.
I paused, then took a step in that direction, nearly stumbled and with effort regained my balance. I was so very, very tired.
“This was once a road.” Alysen’s words startled me.
She was right; my boot heel scraped on a relatively smooth surface. I steadied myself against the cob. In that instant Grazti gave a determined push on my arm, and then another, and the creature was out of my hold and down on the ground. It held at my ankles, alternating between looking up at me and pointing to the dark space.
“Grazti wants us to go there,” Alysen said. Then she moved her hands, quick, swift shifts here and there. No loom stood before her, but her motions were those of a weaver. Her fingers plucked at the air, drawing to her the ribbons of haze. It was as if she used the tendrils to craft something, the haze seeming to pass through her fingers, added to more ribbons, sparks of light emerging within them and growing brighter.
Grazti crouched at Alysen’s ankles now, wide eyes fastened on the square of light she was weaving. She finished by drawing the last ribbon to her, now hardly more than an eggshell white thread, weaving it into place, then rolling all of it into a ball and holding it above her head and away from her body.
Her magical creation was as bright as a full moon, and it allowed us to see the gap between the gate rocks. The road we stood on twisted into that gap, and we could tell it was no flattened merchant’s trail we stood on but an old thing of flat stones fitted together, the stones smooth from the long years.
“All right,” I said. “Let us follow this old, old road and see where this bird-beast intends to lead us.”
The road climbed as we neared the ridge, but it never presented a sharp angle that would give us weary travelers difficulty. By the time it ended at the gate rocks, my eyelids were fluttering and I was yawning. It was all I could do to keep setting one foot in front of the other and pushing on. Alysen was exhausted, too, her light-globe flickering. Grazti walked on its own, close to Alysen, sometimes darting a few feet ahead, then scampering back. The bird-creature had a rolling gait like a bulldog, but at times it reared back like a horse and took several steps on its hind feet.
“Eri, I’m tired.” Alysen dropped the ball of energy and wilted.
Despite my own weariness, I caught her and held her up. After a moment, she steadied herself and I reached down and picked up the ball. The light was faint, but I focused on my wyse-sense and fueled the ball with my own fading energy. It brightened, and I put my arm around Alysen’s shoulders. Supporting her, I held the ball as if it were a torch, and we shuffled ahead.
I knew if we didn’t rest soon, we were indeed finished.
Grazti seemed familiar with the area and paused only a moment between the stone fangs before edging beyond them. A cave stretched beyond, massive and with a ceiling. Dazon and the other horses refused to pass through the fangs, until I handed the globe back to Alysen and tugged on their reins. I didn’t want to leave Dazon outside, fearing he might stray. Once Dazon was in the cave, I brought in the other horses.
It looked as if the cave had been formed by an earthquake, a tumble of stones settling against one another, the walls end-locked at sharp angles. Grazti led us straight to a sheltering corner. I settled Alysen and the light-ball there, retrieving her blanket and spreading it out. She rolled onto it and fell instantly asleep.
I tugged the horses in close, took the packs and saddles off them, and then stretched out next to Alysen, too tired to bother with my own bedroll. The light-ball, no longer feeding off my energy, sputtered out.
Blackest black surrounded us, and I dreamed of the Village Nar, populated with corpses.
10
I awoke warm, the sun filtering in through the cave mouth and stretching to touch me. Over my face hung a small black paw that bore the faintest outline of a leaf from my spell last night. Grazti’s feathered face came closer. The greasy balm remained, and had done its work. The bird-creature looked completely healed.
I sat up and stared. Such a badly organized camp I’d made last night! Any Moonson would feel shame.
In my exhaustion I’d haphazardly dropped the packs and the saddles off the horses. I’d made no sense of anything.
Water …
My mouth and throat demanded it.
Grazti withdrew at my stirring and trotted to the packs.
The bird-beast looked over its feathery shoulder at me. I couldn’t read the creature’s expression, but it apparently could read mine. It rummaged in the pile and retrieved one of the water bottles, grabbed it in a clawed hand, and returned on two feet to me, moving awkwardly for the weight of the bottle. Grazti stopped short and dropped the bottle, then edged it toward me.
I picked it up eagerly and drank deep, relishing the feel of the water flowing down my dry throat. I forced a limit on myself and finally stopped, catching sight of Alysen.
“Lie-a-bed,” she accused.
“That may be,” I returned. “But I’m not a slug-a-bed.”
Alysen brought from around her back a long, thick leaf filled with bulbs scraped clean of their skin. “Murrows,” she said.
I reached for the nearest, smelled it as I brought it up to my lips. I didn’t hesitate. I crunched, and the sweet-sour essence of the ground fruit filled my mouth. These nut-bulbs had not come from our supplies.
“Where…?”
“I found them growing in the high grass along the ridge,” she answered. “Not far from this cave.”
This fruit was the food of nobles, I knew from the days I’d visited with my father last year. I’d not had it since then, and I savored each bite, calling on my enhanced sense of taste so I could thoroughly enjoy it. I could easily become drunk on it. Alysen ate one, too, enjoying it nearly as much as I.
Grazti, however, had other fare in mind. The bird-beast pounced with one hand and grabbed a beetle that had been skittering across the floor. Grazti held it up for inspection, then clamped its beak on the beetle and swallowed with a satisfied purr. Suddenly, Grazti’s head snapped to one side; the creature was obviously listening to something outside the cave.
I hastily swallowed my mouthful of fruit and extended my tongue. The breeze that seeped into the cave carried the faint stench of the fose-bear, and this sent a shiver down my back. But it was not a strong smell, and the hunter in me knew the monster had not come this way, rather the breeze just held a reminder of it. I detected no other menace, and so I coaxed my wyse-sense to tug some of my energy so I could taste for other things.
I didn’t get the chance.
Grazti gave a harsh, raucous cry that echoed off the nearest wall. The bird-beast repeated it, as if it were a broken string of words. And it was answered with the beating of wings. Shiny black insects the size of bats displayed a jewel-like luster in the sunlight.
“Death-eaters!” Alysen shouted, dropping her fruit and dropping prone to the cave floor.
They poured in from cracks in the ceiling, scavengers known to live in the woods and to come out only after the sunset. But the cave must have been dark enough for them, and they made straight for Alysen’s leaf-tray of fruit.
They landed one after another on the wall near our niche, on the floor all around the nut-bulbs, wings folded and heads turned in our direction. They had no scent; this I knew from encountering them in the woods during evening hunts with Bastien.
But had I tasted the breeze earlier, searching for danger, I would have detected them … at least in this number. There were dozens and dozens of them, their hard-shelled bodies as long as my hand. Their legs clicked across the stone as they hurried to the fruit and fought over it. Their mandibles opened and closed. The ones on the wall started toward our packs, and this spurred me to action.
I leapt to my feet and crunched several beneath my boot heels as I rushed to our pile of belongings. I felt, through my leggings, several of them crawling on me. I shuddered; they were filthy things and said to be dangerous not because of their bite, which I was feeling now through the material on my legs and back, but because of the diseases they carried in the faint slime that covered their bodies.
Normally they feasted on the remains of animals, but I knew that when corpses were scarce they were capable of eating anything. Since there was no half-rotted feast here, they were going for our food—and perhaps us.
“Eri!” Alysen was rolling on the cave floor, trying to knock the insects off her. There were cuts on her arms and cheek, and I couldn’t tell if they were from the stone floor or from the death-eaters.
I started stomping on the ones within reach, and brushing the ones off the packs. I didn’t want them to get at our food supplies, but that wasn’t paramount in my mind right now. I reached over Alysen’s satchel and grabbed my weapons belt. I strapped it on and pulled my long knife from its sheath, then I used it to stab at the ones on the satchels. At the same time I continued stomping on them.
“Eri!”
I’d expected her to use a wyse spell to deal with the insects swarming her—she’d been so quick to use the magic last night. But it took concentration to shape wyse-energy, and I realized she couldn’t concentrate with the insects crawling over her. I made my way toward her, crunching more as I went, flailing out with the knife when one flew off the wall and went straight for me.
I saw Grazti hopping and pecking at an insect. The bird-creature drove its beak down, splitting the death-eater in two and whooping in triumph.
“Stay still, Alysen!” I used the flat of the knife blade to brush the insects off the girl, then stepped on them and pierced their shells with the knife tip. Within a few moments she was free of the death-eaters, and I’d returned to our belongings, slaying the insects still crawling there.
I heard Alysen behind me reciting arcane words, and I knew she was starting another enchantment.
“Stop,” I told her. “Magic does not answer everything. Save your energy for something more threatening than insects.”
Her words faded and I heard her stomping the death-eaters, too.
I felt one bite my neck, and I cringed. I reached up with my free hand and grabbed it and threw it against the nearest wall. I’d killed more than half of them by the time they fluttered to the cave ceiling and found their way into cracks I hadn’t noticed the night before.
“They are supposed to be scavengers,” Alysen grumbled.
“Hungry enough to go for living things,” I returned as I looked over my arms and felt my neck.
I’d been bitten several times, and I suspected Alysen had also. There might be nothing to worry about; catching a disease from them was not a certain thing. Still, I would not take a chance on it. “Where you found the ground fruit, Alysen, were there other plants growing, like the kinds around the Village Nar?”
She looked at me oddly, then nodded, and brushed at the cave floor with her feet to clear the broken death-eaters off her blanket. “Why? Why think of plants and fruit where there’s all … this to deal with?” she asked after a moment. She didn’t raise her head, just kept on brushing at the insects, trying to push them into a pile. Grazti helped her, munching on one of the death-eaters as it went, making a sucking noise to get the juice out of the shell. “Why do you want to know about the plants, Eri? There’s more fruit there, but not much of it is ripe.”
“Not for the fruit,” I returned.
Alysen raised her head then, the expression on her face a mix of surprise and pain. She swayed and fixed me with a piercing look. I took a long stride to her, and she caught at my upper arm. She only now realized the insects had truly hurt her.
“The death-eaters,” I explained. “They can make you sick … as quick as the bite from a venomous snake might work, the insects have a poison—”
“And I am poisoned. The plants, Eri…”
“There might be something there to help you.”
“Bastien. He taught you about plants.”
“He taught me about a lot of things, Alysen.” I helped her out of the cave, and sat her on a flat rock not far from the entrance. Then I retreated into the cave and brought the horses out, Grazti following and settling
next to Alysen. I made one more trip into the cave, just to make sure no more death-eaters had returned, then I brought out a couple of the packs and dropped them near Alysen. I’d go back for the others after I’d looked for some herbs.
The air was sweeter away from the cave, and I breathed deep to chase away the scent of the crushed insects. I would have taken time to enjoy this place, and the feel of the wind teasing my face, were I not in a hurry to help Alysen.
I worked quickly and deliberately, on my hands and knees searching through a riot of plants that grew at the edge of the rocky ridge. The soil was rich here, and moist, but it wasn’t swampy like the land we’d traveled across when we found Grazti.
Saw grass was predominant, and in it I found a row of the nut-bulbs Alysen had fed us. This had been a cultivated field at one time, else the plants would not have been growing so uniformly. All the fruit I found was not yet ripe, but I made a note to come back and pluck some of it anyway before we left, hoping it would ripen in the sun.
Ranging a few dozen yards farther away I saw smatterings of soapwort, absinthe, birthwort, and hollyhock, also growing in rows, and all of the plants nearly choked out by weeds.
I inhaled deeply over a row of meadowsweet and lavender, treats for my senses, which had been assaulted by so much death yesterday. I inhaled again, drawing as much as I could into my lungs, then I scolded myself for taking such a liberty when Alysen was in trouble.
I continued to search through the incredible variety, and at the same time I looked inward. I, too, was feeling something from the bites and scratches of the death-eaters. My face was flushed, and there was a hotness in my limbs, a fever I’d need to get rid of quickly. Meadow clary and common valerian, mallow, bear’s foot, meadow rue, and feverfew. I found all those things and wondered at who could have lived here so long ago to plant a garden of aromatic and medicinal plants.