Lhind the Thief

  I’d slowly sunk against the horse’s neck, and forced myself upright. A tremor ran through the horse’s muscles when I shifted weight. She was blowing hard.

  Time for another mount. As I sat up, pangs throbbed behind my eyes, further fogging my mind. I had to be alert! I made an effort to blink away the fog, and scan the horizons.

  Running forms caught my attention. Distant, fast. Non-human.

  I called wordlessly, and they veered in my direction. My tired companion raised her head and whickered.

  I saw their dust before I saw them. It clouded up, pale gold in the moonslight as it hung suspended in the air. I heard the thunder of hooves, then I was surrounded by a herd of long-legged, long-tailed plains horses. They galloped round and round me and my tired mount. One or two danced near and snuffled at the mare. From the center of the herd a leader mare trotted, tossing her mane as she eyed me.

  A stallion circled, teeth bared. I sat where I was, unsure if these creatures meant peace or war.

  So I listened—

  And was buffeted by a strong mental voice: I know some human words and ways. Why do you call us?

  I must be swift, I returned. Danger follows me. Remembering how effective Tir was with images, I turned and pointed westward, picturing the evil green shimmer that the emperor had created along the border of Alezand.

  What makes the danger?

  A human sorcerer, named Dhes-Andis. He has prisoned everything alive in that circle. I go to Erev-Li-Erval to seek aid.

  The stallion pranced near, shaking his head. White rims showed round his great dark eyes. The lead mare stamped her feet and blew hard through her nose. We know that name, came the surprising answer. It means death to land, death to those living on land and under it. I will bear you.

  I slid off my mare, and promptly fell flat on my face. As I got up, fighting dizziness, I sensed a ruffle of laughter in the beasts still circling round and round me. A whisper of thought came from one: They are such funny creatures. And from another, This one smells much like a human, but also like the Animal-Friends.

  The mare lifted her nose, and the young stallion, her son, minced toward me.

  I had to grab hold of the stallion’s mane and pull myself to his back, but then he wheeled and leaped into a canter with a smooth, powerful gait.

  I dozed on his back. When I next became aware of my surroundings, the sun had crested the mountains to my right. My stomach pinched insistently, reminding me how long it had been since I’d eaten.

  I waited until we reached a river winding its way slowly toward the south. When the stallion waded across, I leaned over and caught up several drinks with my hands, then I dug some stale bread and a few crumbs of cheese from the pack, the remains of the food I’d bought from the last village I’d encountered.

  The gray clouds began to pile high overhead, dimming the light. A cold wind sprang out of the north, buffeting my face and flinging dirt up into my eyes. I began to feel that knife-blade-between-the-shoulders sensation of being watched.

  The horses running on either side seemed to sense it as well; their alert, flicking ears and their high tails revealed signs of nervousness. At an abrupt whicker from the lead mare, they veered in a group and galloped southward, leaving her son and me to continue on by ourselves.

  For a time we continued on, utterly alone on the long flat plains, under a sky that occasionally sent rain slashing down. Thunder muttered far in the west and here and there brief, greenish flashes lit the clouds.

  That sense intensified. I shut my eyes, and a bolt, green-white and deadly, lanced from the horizon of the mental realm to the other side. Whoever it aimed at, whatever its intention, it missed me totally. But I must have reacted, for the stallion missed a step and nearly stumbled.

  Rain struck, hard and cold. My gray tunic soaked up the rain until it was a weight dragging at me, so I fought it free and let it sail behind me onto the plains, leaving me wearing the undyed cotton-linen tunic that Kee had given me. I had long since traded the confining trousers in favor of Hrethan-friendly ones, and removed the hated hat to the depths of the knapsack. Freed, my tail fanned across the horse’s back, and my hair lifted, the rain streaming off.

  Presently the clouds rolled slowly southward, and pale blue sky peeped out here and there. When the last rain departed, I saw that we were no longer alone.

  The newcomers made a perfectly spaced line dashing out of the northeast at an angle that promised an intersecting path. The shapes resolved into silhouettes of separate horses with low-bent riders, and then into a group of grim-faced young nomads carrying wickedly pointing javelins.

  When they neared, I saw eyes widen. I remembered my lack of disguise.

  They split into two groups, running on either side of me and my still-racing stallion. Three flanked me on either side, the javelins held loose in strong fingers, parallel to the ground. The lead riders, a boy and girl who had to be twins, began to close in—

  But then a sound not unlike thunder resolved into the distant beating of wings. Everyone looked up, including I. Soaring high overhead was every manner of bird I had ever seen, in numbers I couldn’t count. As I watched two broad-winged hunting birds stooped, diving down toward us.

  They dropped at terrifying speed, then snapped wide their wings and skimmed the ground, one at either side of me, between me and the riders.

  No words were spoken, and if any signals were given I did not see them. The riders altered their course, the javelins shifted from the outside hands to the hands nearest me: now I had a protective vanguard, who could throw those weapons outward. All this accomplished in silence, except for the drumming of hooves and wings.

  The horse’s thought came: They know your quest. And then: The birds have seen pursuers, humans in coats the color of stone, who bear the reek of evil magic.

  Gray Wolves! I tried not to worry about Hlanan.

  The riders veered, galloping westward. To harass the gray-coated hunters, I hoped. After a time the birds, too, departed, all but a few who rode the air currents high above.

  My stallion provided another mount for me in the late afternoon. Another herd appeared, and after I made the change the herd ran alongside us.

  The sun had disappeared behind me when we reached the higher foothills leading upward into the Anadhan Mountains. I had thought to avoid the mountains, but my vanguard had carried me to higher ground.

  The shadows stretched long and blue. The cool wind blowing down from the heights stirred my tired body, and from far, far back in memory a voice whispered, Home.

  The fastest route lay directly north, but I found my heart lifting at the prospect of mountain heights, with their pure, clear air, the crisp winds, the long vistas. I felt safe in mountains, even moreso than on rooftop runs in cities, or even in trees. I was too tired to question anymore. I rode, figuring I’d deal with those snowy peaks above me when the time came.

  A scattering of twinkling lights on one of the hills indicated a village. We passed by, giving it wide berth. Two more, come upon unexpectedly, nestled in valleys. The inclines began to steepen, and here and there thick forest obscured the slopes’ contours.

  The horses slackened the pace when we were enclosed at last in forest. For a time my mounts picked their way willingly along increasingly narrow paths, until one of them took a misstep, sending a shower of rocks down a long cliff. The mare recovered her step, but the alarm burning through me set my heart to banging.

  Go back, I said to them in my mind. I’ll find my way from here.

  Go swiftly, was the reply.

  I sent a heartfelt message of gratitude, and from them came, Your quest is good. How did they know that? I had no answers. All I could do was push on.

  I stood on the trail and watched them disappear back down the trail. They were soon swallowed up by the night-cloaked trees. I turned and started trudging my way uphill, breathing deeply of the pine-scented air.

  I heard a stream plashing its way down the mountainside soon after, a
nd I picked my way to it, and drank until my belly was full.

  It felt good at the time, but I discovered my mistake when my insides sloshed at each step I made uphill. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, but all my good feelings disappeared; the thick-forested beauty around me faded, leaving overwhelming awareness of the gnawing stomach of hunger and anxiety. Hunger I was used to. To counter the anxiety, I reverted to my old habit of concocting long imprecations, using every insult I’d ever heard, in every language I’d come across in my years of wandering, first attaching them to Geric Lendan, and then to Dhes-Andis.

  I was on “Pest-bitten Gargoyle-faced Stenchifer” when I rounded a corner and found the trail widening. A little farther and I saw the lights of a village sprinkled down the slope of a mighty mountain.

  I knew I should bypass it. I knew I should go back until I found another animal trail, and keep on climbing. But the aroma of fresh-baked berry pie wafted on the air, accompanied by the cheering sounds of clapping and music. My feet turned toward the welcome sounds and scents, and my brain was too tired to argue.

  All right. Just this once. You should be safe enough now.

  I paused to dig the cap out of the pack and shove my hair into it, then I started down the trail. I remembered my tail only when I nearly stumbled, swaying to stay upright, and I had to stop again in order to stuff it back into the mud-caked trousers.

  My steps drew me to an inn as if I’d been pulled by an invisible rope, one woven of light, good smells, and happy voices. The inn was crowded with people singing and dancing between the tables, most of them wearing green ribbons, indicating a wedding. I peered in a window first, but saw no sinister-looking Gray Wolves. There were even a few free spots at some of the tables.

  I fumbled in my stash bag and pulled out a few coins, then went inside. Warmth and the heady scents of fresh bread and braised onions filled the air. Steel-stringed and bag-fluted music skirled merry melodies. A smiling innkeep waved me toward a rough-hewn wooden table, and soon I had a plate of slow-cooked potatoes and vegetables and a mug of drink before me. I waded in until the plate was clean and I’d drained the last drop from the mug, and then I leaned back, my eyes closing . . .

  A shriek cut through the dream. I gasped when a cat leaped up on me, clawing my arms. My eyes flew open and met the intense yellow ones of a big tabby. Run! Run!

  “There.” A loud, commanding, triumphant voice ripped across the noise of the inn.

  I looked at the doorway. Two sword-bearing Gray Wolves moved purposefully in, both staring right at me.

  There was only one possible response.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I pointed at them and shrieked, “THIEVES!”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Squawking a lot more nonsense about how they’d robbed my family of everything before they’d sacked my village, I got up and backed away.

  With an outraged bellow, the massive innkeeper confronted the two. “Rob a little maid, will ya? I’ll rob you!”

  “Do not interfere—” one began in a commanding voice, but he didn’t get far.

  “Threaten my man, will ya?” an equally big, brawny goodwife grated. And she followed this up with a huge meat platter, right in their faces.

  Swords whirred out, and the inn erupted in noisy fighting. Fists, furniture, and food went flying this way and that; from the enthusiasm with which the wedding guests piled in, this free-for-all was considered no mean part of the wedding entertainment. One of the men stayed, fighting off the barrage, but the other worked his way grimly in my direction.

  I climbed on my table and leaped to another, pausing only to fling some cups of steaming mulled wine toward the grease-splattered Gray Wolf. He ducked, I jumped down, found a window at hand, shoved it open, and leaped through, onto the roof.

  Sure enough, the place was surrounded by the rest of their hunting pack.

  I leaped into a pine tree, and nearly missed, I was so tired. I crashed my way down, my nose singing with the sting of broken pine twigs, and I ran.

  I heard my pursuers crashing behind as I made straight uphill to where the trees were thickest. Very soon I was too winded to make any speed. So I pulled my way rapidly up into the topmost branches of a tall tree. The searchers smashed their way toward my tree . . . slashed bushes below me with their swords . . . and then moved beyond.

  I waited until the forest was absolutely silent. Made my way carefully down, pausing every now and then to listen for pursuit.

  When I hit the ground, I hadn’t gone four steps when a voice snarled triumphantly, “I thought you’d gone up a tree. Hey! Stop, you!”

  “Catch me if you can!” I yelled over my shoulder.

  Bushes crashed and thrashed just ahead, and another Gray Wolf appeared. I turned smartly to my right, and zipped under some low branches—

  And gripped a fistful of needles, flailing for balance, when I found myself on the very edge of a high precipice. I could not see any thing but darkness below.

  “Trapped,” someone behind crowed.

  “It’s about time,” someone panted.

  “Watch it. They say she’s quick.”

  “I’ll show her quick,” the first voice snarled.

  “Just don’t kill her. No reward for a dead Hrethan,” the second voice warned grimly.

  I shifted my grip, the air currents from below spiraling up to caress my face. I shut my eyes. I won’t use fire. I won’t do it.

  Faryana said, You’re Hrethan! Ride the winds, child.

  I’m half Hrethan, I answered, despairing.

  A gloved fist punched through pine needles and whuffed the air beside my head, clutching. I thought of Dhes-Andis and his threats. I thought of Hlanan, far away, and I hoped, safe.

  And I let go.

  My body fell end over end in the cold, piny air. The cold, clear, beautiful piny air. I drew in a long breath . . .

  Ride, Faryana urged me. Lift your wings, and ride the air.

  The wind whistling past my ears seemed to curl protectively around me. I couldn’t see, but I was no longer afraid. Facing downward, I flung my arms wide, my body flashing with blue-white fire—

  —And the air whooshed under me, carrying me up and away from the towering spires of rock just below. I sailed out into a wide valley, turning to look wonderingly at my white wings glowing in the moonslight.

  I had changed to a silver-blue bird.

  My clothes had fallen away, and with them my pack. I turned, rejoicing in how easy this was, and glided back. I found my pack ripped open on some rocks, and next to it my bag of stash. A little farther away Faryana’s diamonds gleamed ghostly blue in the moonslight.

  When I lit on the rock, the light inside me faded, and my human form pressed around me. I perched there on my hands and knees, breathing hard until the pins and needles sense faded. Then I sat up, shivering, my fuzz fluffed out. I stuffed the diamonds and my stash into the bag, put one of the shoulder straps between my teeth, and leaped off the spire again.

  This time I changed quickly, soaring out over the canyons. Far to the north, I caught the gleam of moonslight on the ocean, a pewter gleam. To the east stretched the long peninsula, mountains marching down its spine.

  The bag swung from my curved, nut-cracking beak. I lifted my long, elegant wings, and began the climb toward the snowy summits along that eastern spine.

  All through the night I flew, riding warm currents of air down through the valleys and soaring over peaks. My tiredness lay somewhere just beyond perception, though it had not completely vanished. I scarcely comprehended the majesty surrounding me. I had become a creature in a dream, gliding tracelessly through a dream land, all emotions and memories as distant as the land below.

  When at last I passed the highest crests and started the long descent toward the peninsula’s headland, a thrill of regret ran through me, but hard on that came the exhilarating thought: I can be a bird anytime I want to!

  As long as I was in the heights.

  The sky-scraping snowtop
s had begun to diminish toward the headland, revealing the gleam of a city along the mighty cliffs at the extreme end, like Faryana’s necklace of diamonds.

  Erev-li-Erval had been built along those high cliffs. Unassailable from the land below, and protected by the mountains at its back, the capital of the empire had existed unmolested for centuries.

  But it was not in the heights.

  The sun was just rising above the dark expanse of the sea when I began to feel weight tugging on my wings and body. At first I thought it was my exhaustion closing in on me again, but as I sailed lower and lower still, I sensed that I was soon going to lose my bird shape, and thought I fought it mentally with my dwindling strength, I knew that transformation was only possible in the heights.

  I flapped as high as I could, and rode the brisk morning breezes within sight of the white marble of the Empress’ city, nacreous in the peachy light of dawn. When I came down at last, it was gently enough, but my human weight overwhelmed me and I fell headlong on to the grass.

  You’re almost there, I told myself. Thianra and Kee and the others count on you telling them what happened.

  I swayed to my knees and pulled on my clothes once again. Last, I clasped Faryana’s diamond around my neck. I was so tired the necklace seemed unbearably heavy, and I could not bring myself to pull on my cap. I would go as I was, without disguise.

  I began the long plod toward the high gold-spired gates, fixing my gaze on them lest they slide away farther. What had seemed a short distance from the air seemed a day’s march now, but I kept plodding, one foot, second foot, one foot, second . . .

  I felt a brush of magic as I neared. I didn’t know what it was, and didn’t care. I just had to make it a little bit farther, a little bit longer. Step, step, step. Don’t stop. Don’t rest.

  A noise caused me to lift my tired head. Three richly dressed figures on caparisoned mounts rode through the gate. My heart eased at the sight. Surely I could beg a ride from these, as my quest was so important?

  I halted, swaying, when I perceived the riders coming straight for me. My gritty eyes rested with pleasure on the riders’ sweeping silken cloaks and sleeves ruffling in the wind, the gems gleaming in the circlet on the leader’s brow.