The Windsingers

by Megan Lindholm

  Her feet were cold and stone bruised. Aches twined through every muscle of her body as she came back into the circle of her firelight. In the wagon, the Vanilly was still overwhelming. Ki took a short breath and ducked in to gather up hard traveler's bread, a sausage, a kettle, dry tea. She backed hastily out of the cuddy. On the seat of her wagon, she paused to bite off the end of the sausage. She stood chewing and considering. Then she reached into the cuddy and brought out the last box of her freight as well.

  As she waited for her kettle to come to a boil, she took alternate bites of sausage and bread. She stared at the rough wooden crate at her feet. Through the crack, the stones on the enamelled box winked at her seductively. She put a measure of tea in the kettle and removed it from the fire. Her thoughts were tangled as she took an earthenware mug from her camp chest. She seated herself on the chest, poured her tea, and took a tentative sip. With a shrug, she picked up her knife. In a businesslike manner, she hunched over to pry open the rest of the rough wooden crate. The enamel box came free. She was going to have to pay full price for this misadventure. At least she would satisfy her own curiosity.

  The last shard of splintery yellow wood dropped away. Ki filled her lap with the enamelled box. Turning it about, she found one plain side. She decided it was the bottom and oriented the box that way. Opening it was the problem now. There were no hinges, nor any discernible catch. Possibly it was hidden in the pattern of stones. Ki moved her hands lightly over the box, feeling for loose stones. None of those either.

  She set the box down on the camp chest beside her. Sipping hot tea, she pondered. Was she being wise to even try to open it? But a stubbornness came over her. She would see what was inside it; dammit, she had paid for that much in nuisance already. She returned the box to her lap and took up her knife again.

  A peculiar prickling sensation began in the fingers of her right hand. The knife fell from her lax fingers. The prickling raced up her arm. Coldness overtook Ki's heart as she watched her arm drop away from the box, to dangle from her shoulder. A poison on the stones, she realized, and was surprised at her own cool logic. She waited with dread for the numbness to spread.

  But her fingers suddenly flexed and stretched of their own volition. Her hand rose to rest once more on the box. One finger settled on a red stone. Ki did not even feel the touch as it pressed gently down on it. A white stone next to the red suddenly glowed. Ki watched a finger quickly cover it. A blue stone flashed, and her thumb settled on it. The stones seemed to seize the ends of her fingers. Her arm rose, and with it, the cover of the box. Her arm set down the five-sided cover gently, and returned to unwind swiftly a linen wrapping from whatever rested on the platform that had been the base of the enamel box. Her hand tucked the linen wrapping into the empty top of the box. Her hand came back to settle gently in her lap. The tingling returned for a moment, then left it again. Ki stared at her fingers for a long breath, then gingerly flexed them. Her hand was hers again.

  Ki let out a long shuddering breath. Night pressed closer, to hover blackest over the pitiful light of her small fire. She licked her dry lips, and let her eyes be drawn back to the contents of the enamel box. It was a carved head. She set it carefully on the box beside her. Leaning back, she tilted her head to admire it.

  The squat pedestal of the bust was a block of porous black stone, veined with red. Ki wondered briefly at the use of such a coarse stone as the base for such a creation. For a head as lifelike as this deserved a pedestal of crystal, a mounting of gold. In both carving and coloring, it mimicked life.

  What stone was this, with a glow like warm flesh? What artist had produced the grey overcast that suggested the pallor of death? Straight black hair was combed flat to the head, to show the aristocratic shape of the skull. The eyes, pale grey, were slightly open, almost sleepily, beneath fine black brows. The nose was straight and strong above a mouth sensually full. It smiled at her, lips parted to reveal small even white teeth.

  'You've made a fine botch of a simple job, Ki,' it said suddenly. The head twisted about on the block as if to limber up neck muscles stiff from confinement. 'I expected some problems, but I confess this is a catastrophe beyond my wildest imaginings. Where are you going?'

  At the first words, Ki had frozen. As the head continued to speak, she had scrambled to her feet and begun to back out of the fire's circle of light.

  'What can you do, Ki? Abandon me, your wagon and team, and flee into the woods? It wouldn't free you of those who gave you the responsibility for my journey. It certainly wouldn't do me any good. Although I retain some small powers in this diminished state, I would be vastly more comfortable with my own body beneath me, and my own hands at the ends of my arms. The body and hands, I might add, that you have so carelessly lost.'

  Ki remained on the edge of the firelight. Every hair on her body was acrawl with dread. Yet she knew that face and voice if only she could place them. And she had to bow to the logic of his words, even in the weird circumstances in which he uttered them. Perhaps especially in those circumstances. She stared at him, unable to flee and unwilling to return.

  'Oh, come,' he resumed condescendingly. At least have some manners! I would greatly appreciate a sip of your tea. My bodily wants in this state are few, but the mouth does become dry. Surely you won't let me, uh, sit here alone all evening.'

  Ki straightened her shoulders and advanced with a bravado she did not feel. She picked up her mug. With hands that trembled only slightly, she held its rim to the head's lips. He sipped. Ki set down her mug, and retreated to the other side of the fire.

  'That's better,' the head sighed. A little of the greyness seemed to leave his face. 'But perhaps I am forgetting my manners as well. I am Dresh, lately a power of Dyal, soon to be, I hope, a power of Bitters. If, that is, you can live up to the terms of our bargain. You've made a fine mess of it so far. You realize that, don't you?'

  'I realize that I was given a cargo I would not have chosen to carry, had I known its true nature!' Ki snapped. She drowned her fear in anger. And I remember your face now. You were the drunken tinker that stirred up the tavern at Dyal with your wild political cant about the Windsingers. You urged the farmers and weavers to rebel openly, to burn their crops and wool in the field before they paid tribute to the Windsingers. And when the brawl started, you left me to pay the damage!'

  As Ki spoke to him, Dresh let his face slide into the tinker's drunken scowl. His eyelids drooped, his cheeks sagged, he let his mouth dangle open. Then with a wink he straightened his features to handsomeness and grinned at her. Had the atmosphere been different, and the head atop a body, Ki might have warmed to that grin. But now it only fueled her anger.

  'Someone wants you, Dresh. Someone wants you badly enough to pay gold for wind spells. Such magic is not cheap. Whoever wants you has the wealth to buy his desires. And if he wants you all that badly, I do not think he will take kindly to my interference. You hired me as a teamster, not as a bodyguard.'

  '... to do all within my power to see that my freight reaches its destination safely. And signed, not just with your name, but also with your status as a freeborn, and the attestation that your loyalty is only to yourself. That bit of braggadocio has bound you to me even more tightly than I could have engineered. And,' a lifted eyebrow stemmed Ki's outburst, 'you may wish to consider this. You fear you have earned the enmity of certain wealthy and perhaps powerful persons who wish to do me harm. You have. The Windsingers. Themselves. Abandoning me here will not lessen their dislike of you. As you well know, they have never been overly fond of Romni. They will see your conveying of me from Dyal to here as an act of defiance, of open rebellion. So you may as well plot further with me as to how to restore myself. At least then you will be under my not inconsiderable protection.'

  Ki sat glaring with narrow cat eyes, weighing the options he hadn't mentioned. She could just load his head back into her wagon and haul it to Bitters. But that might mean facing whatever allies this Dresh might have waiting for him. She
could seek out the Windsingers herself, and turn the head over to them, with humble apologies. If they would believe her. If they bothered to wait to hear out her story. If she found them before they found her. And, the biggest if, if she had not already given her word to paper that she would deliver this 'freight' safely. Gods, what a fix! He had her, thrice bound to him, by name, birth, and loyalty. And the Windsingers against them. Ki was in a game where the opening stakes were already too high for her purse. Dresh was the only way out.

  She gave a curt nod to the head that was regarding her with a smug smile, as if he could follow the trail of her thoughts. Ki took a sip of her tea. 'So. If I am to assist you in this madness, I think I must know what is going on. Let us have the whys of it.'

  'The whys?'

  'Why are you in pieces? I dare not ask how. Why make this journey? Why pay me a premium price to haul dirt and stones? Why did you incite that riot in the tavern? Why didn't they get your head when they got the rest of you? Why do they want you at all?'

  'Such a busy little mind to hide inside a Romni teamster's head! Will you not just trust me, and do as you are told? Believe me when I tell you that knowledge without understanding can cause fear that is completely disproportionate to the realities involved. As a teamster, you must know that the blinkered team may go more steadily than...'

  'I am not a horse,' Ki warned him.

  'No. I did not mean to imply that you were one. Only that the less you knew, the safer you might feel. If. . .'

  'You're asking me to drive a strange trail by night, Dresh, and I...'

  'Ah, the quaint wordings of the Romni born. Almost like a subdialect of Common. You are stubborn, and I have no time for it. Know then, and wish you did not. It will take me less time to tell it than to talk you out of it. There is this. For some time, I have been a bother to the Windsingers. For one thing, I know too much about them, I know enough that I fear them in quite a different way from the way ordinary fools fear them. To say more would be to get into personal areas. That must content you. As to why I divided myself, let us say that I knew that the Windsingers had finally decided to free me from my mortal shell, to turn my soul adrift in the universe. The idea did not please me. The runings I had made about Dyal had grown old and were loosening. Too often had they been renewed. I need a new home, guarded by fresh runes. A suitable configuration occurred in Bitters. But there was the journey to Bitters to consider. To leave in my natural form would be useless. They would have had me before I was a step outside the gates. To leave in a disguise would make the game a little more interesting for them, but not for me. I am a wizard, Ki. That shape I project into the strata of power is distinctive. They know that shape as well as you know the scar down Vandien's face.'

  Dresh paused, smiling, to let Ki feel that little dart. 'There are ways, but not many, to alter that configuration. I did not choose to invite a lesser spirit to join mine in my body. I did not choose to... well, let us not go into what else I did not choose. What I chose was to divide my body. Thus my shape on the power strata was also divided and would appear in new forms. For a while, it confused them. For a while, but not for as long as I had hoped.' The head paused and sighed. Dresh licked his lips, stared at the fire thoughtfully.

  Ki echoed his sigh. Without being asked, she circled the fire, poured more hot tea into her mug, and offered it to his lips. He drank sparingly, then watched her as she drank.

  'The boxes of earth were to throw them off. As was the use of the black house where you signed the contract. You carried too much freight for it to be the body of Dresh. But that, too, did not deceive them for long. As for why they did not get all of me...' The fine white teeth nibbled thoughtfully at the full lower lip. 'I think we may call it luck. They did not know how many pieces I was in. The creature they sent was of the basest level of intelligence, twice as primitive as a Romni teamster, even. It was probably told to fetch back the boxes that were enamelled. A necessary part of this magic, you will guess. My head box, within your wagon, escaped its attention. Luckily for us, they will not instantly know it is missing. Unlike some fools, they have too much respect for my boxes to try to pry one open with a knife. They will know the catch is in the jewels. Enough stones are set in each box that there are a large number of possible combinations. Yet not an infinite number, and they are determined to have them open. And they know that they have the most important ingredient of all. Time. There are definite limits to how long I can survive in this state. Time dribbles away from us already. Even now, I sense one of power busy at the box that holds my hands. A lesser one holds vigil over the box that holds my body. We must recover my parts as swiftly as possible. If they succeed in opening the boxes, they will drain me. I will die. Yet I must not act hastily and throw us into their hands. Sensing who has my parts is only half the puzzle. Now I must divine where.'

  The head was still for a moment. Then, with a peculiar smile, Dresh nodded at the tea mug. Ki leaned down to put it to his lips. He sipped. Then, as Ki took the mug away, he whispered, 'Kiss me, Ki.'

  She bent forward to find his lips. They were cool beneath hers. For a long still moment his full soft lips held hers in a cold kiss. Then he broke it, and Ki jerked herself away from him.

  She rocketed to her feet, the back of her hand flying to her mouth. She stared at him as if at a snake. Slowly her hand fell away. She spat on the earth before him.

  'How did you do that?' she demanded in a low growl.

  'You will forgive me, I trust. Much of a wizard's power is housed in his body and hands. It was just a small test to determine how much I retain. I will confess it is an experiment that has tempted me since I saw you in the tavern. You would not find it so distasteful were my body beneath my head and my hands at the ends of my arms. You have the Romni distrust for magicking. But, lacking a body, a head must do the best it can.'

  Dresh laughed merrily. Ki did not join in. 'I am bound to you,' she admitted softly. 'But use me as a toy and you shall regret it. For perhaps I could buy the favor of the Windsingers with your head.'

  'You wouldn't,' asserted the head calmly. 'You are thrice bound.'

  'Perhaps not. But what would stop me from delivering your head to Bitters, refunding the advance, and leaving?'

  'Your pride, my dear. And you lack the cash. But, I hasten to add, I shall not trifle with you so lightly again. 'Twas but a whim. I know what I wished to know. We have no more time for it now. As for when I do have a body under me again, well, you will find you feel differently. I am not a badly made man, when I am all in one piece. I have small clever hands, softer than yours, narrow hips, and shoulders wider than that vagabond Vandien's...'

  'What do you know of Vandien?' Ki cut in to demand.

  'Ki, be assured that I know as much of you and your friend as any do. When I pick a teamster to haul my bones, I do not act without thought. As I was saying, small feet, and a flat belly. A slight scar across my left breast, but some women have assured me that it but adds to... where are you going now?'

  'To bed. I may have to help you recover your parts, but nothing binds me to listen to an inventory of them.'

  'Ki, you are a basic little creature, aren't you. Lacking a course of action, and being satiated with food, you think only of sleep. But surely you do not intend to sleep within the wagon?'

  'And why not?'

  'It stinks awfully in there. Your Vanilly came closer to extinguishing my breath than any wind magic tonight. Bring your blankets out here, my dear. I shall watch over you.'

  'I bet you would.'

  To Ki's disgust, she found Dresh's words true. Vanilly in excess was scarcely alluring. She gathered her bedding and tucked the sheathed rapier under her arm. The one time when she might have wished for Vandien's skilled hand on the hilt of it, and he takes a seaside holiday. Her own thrusts and parries were nothing to take pride in. But it was the only weapon in the wagon. She sat on the plank seat to close the cuddy door behind her.

  The strangeness of the tableau seized her. Ki cr
ouched a moment on the wagon seat, staring. There were the small flames of her campfire, made even smaller by the immense black dome of night arching over all. The few stars did nothing to illuminate the scene. They were impartial eyes watching from an immeasurable distance. The river was a flowing sheet of darkness beyond her fire. And before her fire, silhouetted by the moving flames, was the head on its block of stone, ensconced on the camp chest.

  The shiver that raced over Ki's back was not from cold. She wished fervently to be out of this whole situation. She knew of no good ever brought by magic. As for Windsinger magic: could there be a worse kind to pit her puniness against? Were not they renowned for their heartlessness and casual cruelty towards mortals, Humans in particular? Yet a large proportion of Windsingers began their lives as Human females. Ki's fear of them was tinged with disgust at the way they could turn on their own species.

  She tossed her bedding down beside the fire. Not even bothering to tug off her boots, she rolled up in the bedding fully clothed. She had a feeling she might wish to move quickly. Dresh did not speak. He stared hypnotically at the flames. Ki followed his eyes. She mused sleepily on the dancing towers of flame and the crumbling ember towns. When she closed her eyes, bright afterimages of the flames danced on the inside of her eyelids.

  'Ki! Awake! I have need of your hands!'

  Ki was jerked from her dreams into the stranger reality. Dresh's voice was urgent; his dark brows were knotted.

  'What's wrong?' Ki wriggled out of her blankets, coming to her feet alert, the sheathed rapier gripped in one hand. She peered in vain into the darkness about the fallen fire. Her team grazed peacefully. 'Where is it? What?'