Kelder and Irith both shook their heads. Kelder resisted the temptation to comment that "the best in Amramion" wasn't saying much; one of his own neighbors, back in Shulara, had claimed to make the best oushka in five kingdoms.
Asha shrugged. "Well, he sells some, but he drinks an awful lot himself." She shuddered, and Irith tossed her mane in response.
Kelder just nodded.
"He's drunk most of the time," Asha said. "Ever since our mother died. She was having another baby, and something went wrong, and she and the baby died. Abden—I mean Abden the Younger, my brother; Dad's Abden, too, of course, so my brother is Abden Abden's son. I mean he was. Anyway, Abden said that when our mother was alive our dad didn't drink anywhere near so much, but I don't really remember that. I was four when she died, and I don't remember her much."
"I'm sorry," Kelder muttered.
Asha ignored him.
For a moment they continued in silence; then Kelder said, "Your father beats you?" His tone made it a question.
Asha asked, "You saw the marks?"
"Yes," Kelder admitted.
Asha nodded. "Yes, he beats me. He used to beat Abden, too, but finally Abden ran away. And that cheered me up a lot, you know? It meant I could get away eventually, too. So I did, I ran away to be with Abden, but then he got killed." She sniffled slightly, and Kelder realized for the first time that she was crying.
"Don't worry," he said as reassuringly as he could, "you don't have to go back to your father."
"I can't live by myself," she said, snuffling. "I'm too young, and I don't know how."
"We'll find you someplace," he said.
He had absolutely no idea how he could carry out such a promise, but he intended to do it somehow.
After all, wasn't he a champion of the lost and forlorn?
Maybe those yet unborn who were to honor him someday would be Asha's children.
"Thank you," Asha said.
They plodded on together.
When they reached the town of Sinodita, Kelder tugged at Irith's mane. She stopped and turned a questioning look toward him. He reached up and lifted Asha down; the little girl had been half asleep and woke up with a start.
"We're here," he said, setting her on her feet.
"Where?" she asked, looking around.
Irith transformed back into her natural form—or, Kelder corrected himself, at least her usual form, that of a beautiful teenage girl. All her clothes seemed to be back where they belonged, and her hair was unmussed.
It had occurred to Kelder that he had no way of knowing whether it was her natural shape or not. He had never dealt with shapeshifters before; he wondered if there were established protocols about such things.
And if her natural form wasn't human, did he want to marry her?
"Why did we stop here?" Irith said.
Kelder blinked, puzzled. "Because this is Sinodita, isn't it?"
"I thought we'd go on to the Flying Carpet," Irith replied. "It's up toward the other end of town."
"Oh," said Kelder, "that's an inn?"
Irith nodded wearily. "About the only decent one in this whole town," she said.
"Oh," Kelder said again. "I didn't know."
Maybe, he thought, looking at Irith's face in the dim moonlight, she wasn't really fifteen at all. Maybe she was an old hag who could transform herself into a girl again.
Did he want to marry an old hag?
"Well, it is," Irith said.
"Come on, then," he said.
"I'm not turning back into a horse," Irith said warningly.
"That's fine," Kelder said. "Asha can walk—can't you, Asha?"
The girl nodded, and the three of them trudged onward.
A few minutes later Kelder rapped at the door of an inn; above his head a signboard creaked in the warm breeze that blew from the east. Kelder hadn't been able to make out the picture on the sign, but Irith assured him this was the right place.
Dinner was cold and greasy, and the only room left was a garret where Kelder was unable to stand upright without hitting his head on the tie-beams.
The innkeeper was apologetic. "We weren't expecting anyone so late," he said.
"At least they weren't completely full," Asha said sleepily, before toppling onto the down pillow the innkeeper had found to serve as her mattress.
That left Irith and Kelder sitting on the two straw ticks. Irith was massaging her legs; Kelder looked at her curiously.
"Horses use their leg muscles differently," she explained, glaring at him. "I'm not used to walking so far in horse shape."
"Oh," he said.
After a moment of awkward silence, he added, "Thank you very much for carrying Asha."
Irith shrugged. "It wasn't anything much," she said, rubbing her shins.
After another moment Kelder asked, "Can you turn into anything?"
Irith sat up and looked at him. "What?" she asked.
"I mean, well, you turned into a horse, and I didn't know you could do that. I mean, I knew you could grow wings, and you said you were a shapeshifter—can you turn into anything you want?"
"You mean, could I turn into a dragon and burn you to a crisp?" Irith asked, smiling at him in a way he didn't like at all.
He nodded.
"No," she said, turning her attention back to her legs. "I have seven shapes, and that's all, and a dragon isn't one of them."
"Oh." That was a relief—if it was true. "So you can't disguise yourself as someone else?"
"No. Why would I want to?"
"I don't know; I was just curious." He was not about to admit that he had suspected her of being an ancient crone.
"Well, I can't."
"Seven shapes?"
She made a noise he took for agreement.
"Well, a horse is one," Kelder said.
"And this is another," she replied.
He considered, and asked, "Wings—is that three?"
She nodded.
"Uh . . . what are the other four?"
"None of your business, that's what they are," she said, straightening up and then lying back. "Go to sleep."
"But . . ." As her future husband, he felt that they certainly were his business, but he didn't want to tell Irith about his plans for her, her prophesied role.
"Shut up and go to sleep, Kelder. I'm too tired for this." She curled up on her bedding and closed her eyes.
There was another matter he had wanted to discuss with her, as well, and now he wished he had brought it up first. Mentioning it now seemed impolitic.
It would have to come up eventually, but he was too tired to worry about it; he would leave it until morning.
It would need to be discussed then, though.
The matter was money; he didn't have any more, beyond a few copper bits. He had no way of paying the bill at the inn if it was anything like the last few.
Fortunately, given the accommodations, it would probably be somewhat less.
Life was becoming very complicated, even with the prophecy to guide him. Irith was clearly the one he was destined to wed, and she was as beautiful and cheerful as he could wish, but marrying a shapeshifter with a secret past was not altogether a reassuring prospect. Asha clearly provided him with someone lost and forlorn to champion, and freeing her brother's soul was obviously the way to be honored by the dead, but catching up to the caravan and getting Abden's head from it might not be all that simple.
Well, Zindré had never said that his life would be easy.
And could he refuse his promised future if he wanted to? If it was all too much for him, could he just give up and go home?
Well, who was going to stop him?
And for that matter, maybe it was all coincidence after all; maybe Zindré was a fraud, in which case he was fooling himself, and going home would be the only sensible thing to do.
With a sigh, he leaned over and blew out the candle, then stretched out on his own ticking.
He thought he
would be awake, thinking about money, and about Zindré's predictions, and about Irith, for hours.
He was wrong; within three minutes he was sound asleep.
Chapter 11
"That's all you've got!" the innkeeper demanded.
Kelder nodded silently. Behind him, Irith muttered, "Oh, gods, how utterly embarrassing! Kelder, I can't believe you're doing this—and in the Flying Carpet!"
Asha had the good grace to keep her mouth shut, for which Kelder was grateful.
The innkeeper glared at the coins as if they were a direct personal affront.
"Oh, come on," Kelder said. "It's only three bits short, and I swear, it's all we've got."
The proprietor let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Oh, all right," he said, "but I really shouldn't. Now, go on and get out of here, and don't you ever tell a soul I was so soft-hearted and stupid!"
"Thank you," Kelder said with a bow. "May all the gods bless and guard you, sir!" Greatly relieved, he turned and hurried for the door, before the man could change his mind.
When they were safely out of the inn and on the streets of Sinodita, Kelder turned left. Irith corrected him, grabbing his arm and turning him around.
"That's west," she said. "We're going east."
Kelder stood where he was and shook his head. "No, we aren't," he said. "Or at least, I'm not."
"You're not?" Asha asked, looking up at him.
"No," he said, "I'm going home, to Shulara."
Irith put her hands on her hips and snorted. A lock of hair fell across her face; she blew it out of her way and glared at Kelder.
"What about me?" Asha asked timidly. "What about Abden?"
Kelder looked down at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I'm tired, and I don't have any more money, and I can't see what we can do, anyway. If we caught up to the caravan, what would we do? Why would they help us? And how long will it be before we catch them, anyway? Where will we eat and sleep?"
"I don't know," Asha whispered.
"Neither do I," Kelder said, "and that's why I'm going home. I can sleep on the grass by the roadside and pick a little food from the fields, and that should last me long enough to get home to my family—if I turn back now." That probably meant giving up on Zindré's prophecy, but just now, tired even after a night's sleep and humiliated by his experience with the innkeeper, Kelder didn't care.
And maybe he could try again in a few years, become the champion of the lost and forlorn then. It was much easier to be a hero when one had money.
"What about me, though?" Asha asked. "I can't go back to my family!"
Kelder frowned. "Don't you have any relatives except your father?" he asked.
Asha shook her head; a tear ran down one cheek.
"Kelder of Shulara," Irith said, with her hands on her hips, "if you think for one minute that I'm going to let you break your promise to that poor child, then you're a complete blithering idiot! We, both of us, are going on to Shan with her, and we're going to find her brother's head and bring it back and build a proper pyre! And after that we'll find someplace for her where she'll be safe. And then, if you want, you can creep back home to your stupid little farm in Shulara and let your mommy and daddy take care of you—but not until then! Do you hear me?"
Kelder blinked. "Irith," he said tiredly, "I don't. Have. Any. More. Money."
"Well, so what?"
"So I can't go anywhere."
"Kelder, you're being stupid! What do you need money for? We aren't just any bunch of travelers, you know; you aren't in this alone. You're with Irith the Flyer!"
Kelder looked at her for a long moment, then asked, "So what?"
"So, you silly ass," Irith replied, "I'm a shapeshifter and a famous magician! Everybody on the Great Highway knows me. I can get money any time I want!"
"You can?"
"Of course I can! Do you think I've lived all these years off people like you?"
Kelder had not thought at all about how Irith supported herself; the question had simply never occurred to him. Now that it had been pointed out, he felt rather foolish.
"Oh," he said.
He thought for a moment.
Asha was staring up at Irith now, and the expression on her face and in her eyes looked suspiciously like adoration. Kelder felt a twinge of envy; wasn't it he who was supposed to be the honored champion?
"I must be just as stupid as you said," he said. "I don't see how you can get money any time you want."
Irith let out an exasperated hiss and turned away in disgust, then turned back to say "I work for it, silly! I can do things that nobody else can!"
"But how do you find work?" Kelder asked.
She shrugged. "I ask around. And if there isn't anything handy, I borrow money—people know I'm good for it."
"Oh," Kelder said again. He hesitated and then asked, "Do you have any money now?"
"Of course I do!"
"You do?" Kelder's weariness and confusion began to give way to annoyance. "You do?"
"Yes, of course!" Irith repeated.
"Then . . ." Kelder stopped, calmed himself, and tried again. "Then why . . ." Again he paused, but finally the entire thing burst out, unrestrained.
"Then why in all the depths of Hell didn't you TELL me that before I embarrassed us all in front of the innkeeper?" he shouted.
"Because you didn't ask!" Irith shouted back. "I didn't know you were out of money! You didn't tell me! The first I knew of it was when you counted out your coins for Bardec!"
"Well, why didn't you say something then?" Kelder yelled back.
"Because I was too embarrassed, that's why!"
Kelder started to say something in reply, but no words came; his breath came out in a rush. He took another breath, but it, too, came out as wordless noise.
"Are you really going back to Shulara?" Asha asked.
Kelder looked down at her, and his anger dissipated.
"I don't know," he said.
"It's only two days from here to Shan," Irith said. "At most; we could make it in less if we pushed."
Kelder looked at her, remembering the long walk from Shulara, and then looked down at Asha again.
"No," he said, "no, I guess I'm not going back to Shulara. Not yet, anyway." He turned back to Irith. "Two days?"
"Less, really," she said. "It's three and a half leagues to the Castle of Dhwerra, which is right on the edge of the desert— after that we're out of the Small Kingdoms entirely. There's nothing but the Great Eastern Desert from there to Shan—it's about another three and a half leagues. Seven in all. Most people make it two days because of the heat."
"What heat?" Kelder asked.
"The heat of the desert, of course! But it isn't bad this time of year, really."
"Seven leagues," Kelder said, considering.
Irith nodded. "I could fly it in a couple of hours," she said.
"And we've come how far since we met?"
She shrugged. "Oh, I don't know," she said. "Maybe fifteen leagues?"
Kelder thought for a moment longer, then asked, "Do you really think we can do anything for Asha?"
Irith pursed her lips. "Well," she said, "I don't know about anything really, you know, long term, or anything, but it shouldn't be all that hard to get her brother's head back and build him a pyre."
Kelder mulled this over, and Irith added, "Besides, don't you want to see Shan on the Desert? I mean, it's a really interesting place. The market—they call it the Bazaar—is wonderful. They specialize in sorcery, or at least they used to."
That did sound interesting—one of the great cities he had been promised.
Really, the prophecy was still holding up just fine. His bride, the cause he was to champion, a great city to be seen—it was all coming together, wasn't it?
He couldn't just give it all up and go back to being a boring old farmer, with no special destiny.
"All right," he said, "let's get going. We'll all walk at first, and if you get too tired, Asha, we can stop, and
maybe Irith can turn into a horse again . . ."
Irith glared at him.
Kelder glared back.
Asha ignored them both and started walking, and a moment later they followed.
Chapter 12
The Castle of Dhwena, unlike most of the castles along the Great Highway, was not actually very near the road. Instead it was built atop a huge mass of rock that thrust up from the sandy earth, half a mile or more to the northwest of the highway's closest approach.
The highway was no longer heading east. From Amramion to Sinodita it had run east by northeast; from Sinodita it had run due east for three leagues; now, though, it curved around and ran due north.
In doing so, it described a quarter circle around the Castle of Dhwerra and around the great stone promontory upon which the fortress was built. Along that arc were located a dozen or so inns, but no real town.
And at the end of the arc the road arrived at the top of a long, steep escarpment.
Kelder had grown up among mountains—small ones, but mountains—and was not particularly bothered when land went up or down, but he had never seen anything quite like this particular feature of the landscape. The cliff seemed to extend endlessly in both directions, a dividing line across the World, as if something had long ago split the World in half and then put it back together without lining the pieces up properly. The higher portion, where he stood, was sandy, but still mostly green, and had various features of interest—the castle soaring up on his left, the inns behind him, the occasional bush.
The lower portion, at the foot of the slope, consisted of nothing but golden sand, shining so brightly in the midday sun that he could not look at it without squinting.
It was undoubtedly a vast plain—another phrase fulfilled, at least in part.
"The Great Eastern Desert," Irith said. He turned, startled; a moment before she had been a horse, with Asha on her back. Now she stood on two feet again, instead of four, and Asha stood beside her.
"But it's north," Kelder said.
Irith glared at him. "Don't be stupid," she said. "The boundary isn't perfectly straight, silly! There's a piece of the desert that sort of sticks out to the west, and Shan's in the middle of it, and we're on the south edge of it, here."
Taking Flight Page 9