Taking Flight

by Lawrence Watt-Evans

  Did that qualify as a strange beast, in the terms of Zindré's predictions? Did those peculiar bottled things? Certainly there was much magic here, though he didn't know how mighty it was.

  "Is there anyone you think might know the countercharm?" Irith asked. "We're heading west—we thought someone in Ethshar might know."

  Perina considered that carefully, as Kelder moved on to an­other bookcase. This one actually held books on most of its shelves, which seemed less dangerous.

  "I'm sure there are people in Ethshar who would know," Perina said. "That nice Thorum the Mage, on Wizard Street—if he doesn't know himself, I'm sure he can find someone who does, he's just the sweetest man."

  Irith nodded. Kelder tried to read the titles on a few bind­ings and found most were in unfamiliar languages.

  "Iridith of Ethshar, if you can find her," Perina went on. "She seems to know just about everything, I think. But I don't have any idea at all where she lives—she won't say." She smiled oddly and said, "And of course there's always Fendel the Great himself—the rumor is that he's still alive, living like a hermit somewhere in Tintallion or some such place."

  Kelder looked up at that, then back, and blinked. Hadn't that title been different before?

  "For that matter," Perina mused, "is your old master, what was the name?"

  "Kalirin the Clever," Irith supplied.

  "Yes, Kalirin—is he dead?"

  "Oh, I think so," Irith said. "I heard that he was, and I haven't seen him since, oh, 5025, I think it was."

  "That's almost two hundred years ago," Perina said, "so I suppose he must be dead." She sighed.

  Kelder decided that maybe he would do better to just look out a window and strolled over to one.

  "So you don't have any more ideas?" Irith asked.

  "No, I'm afraid I don't," Perina admitted.

  Kelder looked out the window and decided maybe that was a mistake after all, because it wasn't Krithimion on the other side of the glass at all, it was someplace where waves were smashing against black rocks at the foot of a high, curving cliff and ancient, crooked buildings of rough stone stood atop it; the window seemed to be somewhere on the clifftop, look­ing along the rim, with the sea to the left and the buildings to the right.

  That was mighty magic, he was fairly certain.

  "As long as we're here," Irith said, rising, "Kelder and I are a little short of money just now. Were there any little er­rands that you'd like done?"

  Kelder stepped to the next window and was relieved to find a perfectly normal view of Krithim, laid out below them like a collection of toys; the only unsettling thing about it was how very high up they were. The wizard's workshop was clearly atop the tallest tower in the castle.

  "Oh, I can't think of any just now," Perina said, as she, too, got to her feet, "but I can loan you a few pieces of silver if you like, and when you find that countercharm that will cover it. It would be worth, oh, I'd say ten pieces to me, and I could give you half of that now."

  "What if we don't find it?" Kelder asked, breaking his si­lence.

  "Oh, Kelder, don't be such a bore," Irith said.

  "Then you'll find some other way to pay me back," Perina said, dismissing the problem with a wave.

  Kelder hesitated, but he was tired of doing stupid little jobs and constantly worrying about where the next meal was com­ing from. Five pieces of silver—that was fifty in copper, four hundred bits. Added to the handful they had, that would make life a good bit easier all around.

  Irith threw him a questioning look, and he nodded.

  "Thank you, Perina," the shapeshifter said, "that would be wonderful."

  "Wait right here, then," she said, "I'll get my purse." She hurried to the spiral stair.

  That left Irith and Kelder standing a few feet apart, with no one else in the room. Kelder said quietly, "She seems to know a lot."

  "Hmm?" Irith looked at him questioningly.

  "Well, I mean, all this magical stuff here, and all those powerful wizards she was talking about—if she doesn't know the countercharm it must be pretty obscure."

  Irith shook her head. "Silly," she said, "don't let Peri fool you; she's not part of any inner circle or anything. She inher­ited all this stuff from her mother—she was a great wizard. And she collected stuff, weird stuff—a lot of it is accidental one-of-a-kind things that nobody knows what they do, things that happened when a spell went wrong. It's not Peri's magic. Peri's just a name-dropper; she met all those people when she was little and they visited her mother, or her mother took her along visiting them, or maybe she just heard her mother talk­ing about them. She probably hasn't seen Thorum in fifteen years, and she probably never met Fendel at all. She probably hasn't read half these books. In fact, she probably hasn't read any of them."

  "Oh," Kelder said.

  "The countercharm could be in one of them," Irith said, "but we'd never find it. We'd probably get killed by some silly warding spell if we tried to look for it."

  "Oh," Kelder said again.

  Then Perina reappeared, descending the stair, a velvet purse in her hand.

  "Here we go," she said, pulling out a handful of coins.

  When the money was safely tucked away—three pieces in silver in Kelder's purse, two in Irith's, and the rest back where it came from—Irith kissed Perina good-bye and stepped to the window.

  "Must you go?" Perina asked, as Irith opened the case­ment.

  "I'm afraid so," Irith said, as wings sprouted from her shoulder blades.

  "Well, take care." She and Kelder watched as Irith stepped up on the sill and then flew away.

  Feeling suddenly awkward, Kelder said, "Well, I guess I'll be going, too."

  Perina smiled at him. "Oh, I'm sure," she said. "Tell me, though, lad, how did you meet Irith?"

  Kelder shrugged. "Just bumped into her on the highway," he said.

  "You've taken a fancy to her, haven't you? I can always tell these things." She smiled a smile that Kelder supposed was meant to be conspiratorial; it came off as condescending, instead.

  "I suppose," Kelder mumbled.

  "It shows," Perina said. "At least, to someone as experi­enced as I am it does."

  "I'm sure it does," he muttered, embarrassed.

  "I might be able to do something for you, you know," she said.

  Kelder blinked.

  "I really don't know Fendel's Infamous Love Spell," she said, "but I do . . . Oh, it isn't you she used it on, is it?"

  "No, of course not!" Kelder said uneasily.

  He didn't think Irith had used any spells on him, but how

  could he be sure she didn't have others, less powerful than the

  one she had used on Ezdral? That was an unpleasant notion.

  "Oh, good, I didn't think so," Perina continued, smiling—

  smirking, almost. "Well, then. I don't know that one, but I do know some others. There's the Infallible Love Philtre, and, well . .." She paused and cleared her throat. "There's the Spell of Aroused Lust, which isn't exactly a love spell—and others, too. And I was wondering whether you might be inter­ested."

  "To use on Irith?" Kelder asked.

  Perina nodded, her smile coy.

  For a moment, Kelder seriously considered the idea. He wanted Irith, wanted to marry her, and if she were enchanted, the way Ezdral was, he could have her, for as long as he wanted. She wouldn't argue with him anymore. She wouldn't get bored and fly away. She would be very much in his power.

  It was tempting, no doubt about it.

  But it would also be cruel, and unfair, and disgusting. And it might well cause just as much trouble in the long run as the spell on Ezdral. It would be far better to let Irith make up her own mind. She liked him, he knew she did. She would marry him, eventually, without any spells. She would come back to Shulara. Zindré's prophecy said as much.

  Of course, this might have been part of the prophecy, this offer of a love spell; by turning it down he might be voiding Zindré's promises. All the
same, he was resolved to do so. Magically-induced love was not what he wanted.

  And then, after he had decided that he wanted Irith to love him naturally if she was going to love him at all, he remem­bered something.

  Spells didn't work on Irith anymore. Wizardry could not affect her. She had challenged wizards to magical duels and then laughed at them as their spells left her untouched. Any love philtre, potion, or aphrodisiac would be utterly useless on her.

  Did Perina know that? Was she trying to trick him?

  Or did she have some other purpose in mind?

  "I don't have much money . . ." he began.

  She waved that away. "No, no," she said. "For you, it's free."

  "Um . . . Why?"

  "Because I just want to see you youngsters happy, that's all!"

  "Well," said Kelder, "thank you, I appreciate it, and I'll think it over."

  "You do that," she said as he made his escape, out the door to the stairway.

  The question of just why she had made the offer gave him something to think about all the way to the bottom.

  Chapter 29

  The question of Perina's motives stayed at the back of Kelder's mind for the rest of the afternoon, nibbling away at his attention as he met Irith at the gate and led her to Senesson's shop. This time he knocked, and the two of them were admitted to the wizard's presence.

  Senesson was a bent, gray old man; Kelder wondered if he might have found some way to live past his time, but without ever learning any youth spells, because he could easily have been a century old—Ezdral would have seemed to be in the very flower of youthful vigor by comparison. The wizard had no teeth, making his speech hard to understand, and a strand of spittle hung swaying from one corner of his mouth. He cackled when anything amused him, which was often. He leered at Irith in a truly offensive manner, and Kelder could understand why Azraya had stamped out in a rage.

  Senesson, who was only recently arrived in Krithimion, claimed to have met Irith before, long ago in another king­dom, but she didn't recall any such encounter. The wizard in­vited Kelder to take a seat in the shop while Senesson and Irith talked business in the workroom.

  Kelder sat and mulled over Perina's offer, while in the next room Irith fended off the drooling old fool's lecherous ad­vances and determined, at least to her own satisfaction, that he knew no countercharm for Fendel's Infatuous Love Spell. Kelder did pay attention to the conversation, however, and in­tervened when Senesson's lust threatened to get out of hand.

  Irith was not as angry upon departing as Azraya had been, but she came close.

  By the time Kelder and Irith sat down for supper at the Leaping Fish, he had come to the conclusion that Perina had either hoped to dupe him into giving Irith some other potion completely, not a love spell at all, or that she had some idea that if he used a love spell to control Irith, she could then control him, and thereby have the services of a remarkable and talented creature at her beck and call.

  Kelder was not sure just what Perina would want with a tame shapeshifter, but he supposed there would be uses for one. With that out of the way, he began wondering whether Azraya would show up.

  Asha and Ezdral arrived more or less on schedule; Asha was smiling and happy, Ezdral drunk and morose. The old man all but flung himself at Irith when he spotted her, and Kelder saw Irith flicker, as she started to turn herself invisible and then changed her mind.

  Kelder pried Ezdral away from her, got the entire party seated around the table, and saw to the distribution of the meal the inn had supplied.

  Azraya did not come, and even as he admired the way the lanterns lit Irith's hair, Kelder found himself a little disap­pointed.

  Beautiful women, plural, Zindré had said—Kelder had not immediately thought of Azraya as beautiful, but now he real­ized that she qualified. Another phrase had been fulfilled, then. If the contents of Perina's tower counted for strange beasts and mighty magic, then the whole prophecy was com­ing along nicely. Another great city, another vast plain, then a triumphant return home with Irith as his bride, and he would have made the entire prediction come true.

  That was just as well; he was beginning to tire of traveling, of eating and sleeping in inns like the Leaping Fish.

  The food was good, if unexciting, and the meal uneventful, save that Ezdral's hands were so unsteady that he kept drop­ping things; every so often the clatter of a fork or mutton bone dropped on his plate would interrupt conversation.

  After supper, the drunkard passed out on the floor of their L-shaped room before anyone could suggest he sleep elsewhere; Asha took the little featherbed that had been crammed onto the window seat in the dormer at the narrow end.

  That left Irith and Kelder to share the big bed at the other end, out of sight of Asha even should she wake. Ezdral was obviously not going to awaken. The two made good use of this unexpected privacy, their first in days.

  "It's only seven miles to Bugoa Castle," Irith said as they gathered up their belongings the next morning, "and maybe another eleven or twelve to Syndisha, so we should get at least that far today, shouldn't we?"

  Ezdral groaned, but when Irith looked at him he immedi­ately muttered, "Whatever you want, Irith."

  Asha grimaced but agreed. "We can do that."

  "Tuyoa is next beyond Syndisha," Irith went on. "About ten miles, I think. That might be too much."

  "Probably," Kelder said, glancing at Ezdral.

  "From Tuyoa it's about eight miles to Shesta, and then about that far again to Lamum," Irith said. "And Lamum Keep stands on the border between the Small Kingdoms and the Hegemony of Ethshar."

  Kelder nodded, interested.

  "Now, traditionally," Irith said, "they say it's two days from Lamum to Ethshar—one day to the Inn at the Bridge and one day from there to the gate."

  "We're getting close, then," Kelder said.

  Irith shook her head. "Not that close, though, because those days were figured by what an army could march, back during the Great War. It must be ten leagues from Valder's inn to Westgate."

  Asha groaned at that, and even Kelder hesitated.

  "It's not so bad, from Lamum to the inn," Irith said. "Maybe eight leagues."

  "Well," Kelder said, hoisting his pack onto his shoulder, "we'll see how it goes."

  "Maybe we'll find a wizard along the way who knows the charm," Asha said.

  Irith replied thoughtfully, "You know, we just might."

  "Oh?" Kelder asked.

  "You remember Perina mentioned Iridith of Ethshar might know? Well, we might see her along the way."

  That was a little vague for Kelder's liking. "Oh," he said again.

  They made their way out of the town and onto the highway and had gone no more than half a mile when a familiar voice called, "Hai, Kelder!"

  He turned and found Azraya of Ethshar striding up behind them.

  "Azraya!" he called.

  Irith gave Kelder a startled look, then eyed Azraya suspi­ciously. Asha looked mildly interested; Ezdral trudged on, a few feet behind Irith, paying no attention at all.

  When the entire party stopped for introductions, Ezdral stopped, but he simply stood, hands at his sides, staring at Irith. One of his hands was twitching, Kelder noticed.

  "This is Azraya of Ethshar," Kelder said in Trader's Tongue. "We met yesterday."

  Azraya, recognizing her name, bowed politely.

  "These are my traveling companions," he went on in Ethsharitic, uncomfortably aware that Asha didn't know the language. "This is Irith the Flyer, and Asha of Amramion, and Ezdral . . ." He paused, then looked at Ezdral's current condi­tion and said, "Ezdral the Sot."

  Irith made a polite acknowledgment, and Asha followed her lead; Ezdral managed only a ghastly imitation of a smile.

  "We're bound for Ethshar," Kelder added. "Would you care to travel with us?"

  "I suppose," Azraya said, "it would be safer."

  Irith opened her mouth to say something, then thought bet­ter of it.

 
They reached Bugoa well before noon, to Kelder's pleased surprise. Asha was putting out a better effort in order to keep up with Azraya, who had a tendency to drift ahead of the oth­ers; Irith stayed even with Azraya, and Ezdral hurried to stay close to Irith. As a result, the whole party made better time than usual.

  Bugoa Castle was large and rambling, with a village straggling off from its walls in all directions—but mostly, of course, between the castle and the highway, as the road came no closer than five hundred yards.

  Kelder's little group, with a minimum of debate, decided to not even stop.

  From Bugoa the road veered southward, rather than contin­uing west. Kelder suggested that the highway could have taken a straighter path, and Irith told him, "It used to, or at least there used to be an alternate route between Krithimion and Syndisha, by way of Mezgalon instead of Bugoa." She glanced back at Ezdral, who paid no attention to the conver­sation but whose haggard features brightened when he noticed Irith looking at him. "I'm not sure why they abandoned it," she said.

  She had spoken in Trader's Tongue; Azraya asked Kelder what they were talking about, and he translated Irith's re­marks, to the shapeshifter's obvious annoyance.

  Whether roundabout or not, this stretch of the Great High­way was smooth and level, and again, they made excellent progress. At times, it seemed to Kelder that they were almost racing—Azraya and Irith seemed to be hurrying more than necessary. As a result, there was little or no conversation.

  They were about a league from Bugoa when Asha tripped and fell, and Ezdral stumbled over her and toppled headlong. The girl burst out crying, and the drunkard simply lay facedown in the dirt.

  Kelder and the two young women turned back to help. Irith lifted Asha back to her feet, but the child simply sat down again, sobbing.

  Ezdral was heavier and even less cooperative, and when Azraya and Kelder between them were unable to get him up­right, they settled for rolling him over on his back.

  "What's wrong, Asha?" Irith asked, stroking the child's hair. "What's wrong?"

  Asha shook her head.