Lanen
We snatched some food, for it was now long past midday, then joined Vilkas, Aral and Will, Jamie and Rella, and my mother Maran. Jamie, Rella, and the Healers were all desperate to get away, to get to Berys as swiftly as possible to stop him. I could understand it but I can’t say I was convinced.
My heart misgave me ferociously. Only by the grace of the Lady, Jamie, and Shikrar was I alive at all. I could not forget that Berys had said I was the most precious thing in the world to him when he learned of my mingled blood. I couldn’t help but feel that the most sensible thing for me to do was to stay as far away from him as humanly possible. I took Varien aside for a moment and put it to him.
“I cannot argue with you, dearling,” he said solemnly, “and I would not place you in danger for all the world. Perhaps we could remain with the Kantri until the others return?”
“What, you mean rest?” I teased. ‘Together? In safety? Surely not.” I grinned at him. “If this were a proper bard’s tale we’d be going along with the others, intent on revenge to the exclusion of everything else, including good sense.”
He laughed. “Ha! Let us confound the ballad-makers, then, and take our ease.” He kissed me lightly. “We have surely deserved it. Very well. Let us go and tell our comrades of our decision.”
They were all assembled in the shelter of the one corner of the College that still stood: there was at least a portion of roof to keep off the rain that threatened, and there was room enough for Salera and Shikrar, though Idai, Gyrentikh, and Alikirikh had to wait outwith the crumbling walls. Tolmas the stonemason and several dozen others from the town were there as well, to hear what Rikard might say about their future, that for so many years had depended on the College of Mages. The assembled Gedri—I shook myself—people stared at Shikrar in astonishment, and at Salera in disbelief.
Rikard took a deep breath and began. “There are two chief matters before us,” he said. “First and most obviously, I have much to tell you of the destruction of the College and our hopes to rebuild, but that will have to wait, for there are those here who must leave as soon as may be.” He nodded to us. “There is news that will be hard to hear, but hear it we must. Ignorance would be lolly. Pray you, hearken to Mistress Rella.”
“Those of you who were around earlier saw what happened, with the Healers Donal and Rathen,” said Rella, and speaking quickly, she told them of the demon-haunted Healers. Over the shocked swearing she continued. “We know beyond doubt that Magister Berys, he who was Archimage, has been the source of their temptation and the one who must bear the blame for this obscenity.” She drew a deep breath. “What this means is that you cannot trust any Healer, apart from Rikard and those students whom you see before you, not to be the victim of demonic possession.” Now that brought a hiss of indrawn breath. “Berys has taken even that fundamental surety away. Those who serve the House of Gundar are almost certainly tainted. For the rest, we cannot tell, but the dangers are too great to take chances. The best we can do is to recommend that you only trust Healers who wear a Ladystar in contact with their skin. The demons cannot bear the touch of that symbol of Her power.”
“We cannot live thus for long, surely!” cried Tolmas, the others echoing his words. “And even if we are so fortunate as to have Rikard and the others, what may be done for those who live elsewhere?’ His brow was deeply furrowed. “My sisters son dwells in Elimar, and bis young lad is not well. What is he to do? How will he know who to trust? And how shall we deal with any of the tainted ones who approach us?” He lowered his voice. “Surely we need not kill them?”
“We leave this very hour to seek out Berys and destroy him,” said Jamie stoudy. “The death of the demon-master breaks the spell. They will be free.”
“Aye, well, if you manage it, all well and good,” countered Tolmas. “But the Archimage as was, he’s a powerful man. He may not be so easy to kill, and in the meantime how are we to protect ourselves? Demons walking in the shapes of men. Shia preserve us,” he muttered.
“We will keep watch, day and night,” replied Rikard heavily. He opened the top of his clasped robe to reveal the new Ladystar that hung above his heart from a silver chain. “It will take more than one of us to restrain them, so we will move in groups of three. We are very few, alas, and I fear…”
“Magister,” said Salera, raising her voice only enough to be heard clearly. “I hight Salera, of the Aialakantri. My people and I have spoken of this, and we believe there is a better solution.”
Those who had not heard Salera before stared, slack-jawed, at this impossibility. Surely that was one of the little dragons, speaking!
“There are not full five hands of the true Healers who yet live,” she continued. “If one or two of you are able to subdue these crea-tures, rather than three, it would leave more free to watch and ward, perhaps to go abroad in the world to seek them out if that is needed; I have found”—here she paused to concentrate—“three hands of my fellow Aiala who have said they will assist. If we work together, surely we all will benefit.”
Rikard’s eyes were nearly as wide as those of the townsfolk and he obviously could not speak, so I did.
“Salera, you are most generous, and I know the Healers appreciate your offer. Are you certain that this is best for you?” I added in truespeech, for Varien had told me that she could hear it, “Dear Salera, this is a great work and a great danger you undertake. What so moves you to generosity towards the Gedri? It will be hard, and not all will accept you for the reasoning creatures that you are. If you seek to do this as a kindness to my people, for my sake and Varien’s, know that it is not necessary.”
“I know that well, Lady Lanen/Mother” she replied, her mindvoice calm and clear. “It is because they do not yet know us that it must be done. For our own protection, the sooner we are able to assist the Gedri, to speak with them for longer than a brief moment, the sooner will they come to see us for who we now are.” I could hear the determination in her thoughts. “There is also an undeniable pleasure in knowing that we will be working against our life-enemies. Fear not, Lady/Mother. This is not misplaced gratitude. I have spoken with my people at some length, and it has been decided.”
Aloud she replied only, “It is decided. If the Gedri will accept our offer, we will work together against the Rakshasa.”
Rikard had mastered himself and said solemnly, ‘Tour offer is a blessing beyond hope, Salera of the Aiala. We accept gratefully.”
“The blessing of the Winds and the Lady go with you then, Salera,” said Varien, his glorious voice balm and benison. “The Wind of Change has blown roughly across us all of late. I rejoice that you and the Aiala are called to be the Wind of Shaping. Good fortune attend you,” he said, and in broadcast truespeech he added, “Remember that truespeech is not limited by distance, and that the Kantri for the most part will be near. Lanen and I will be among them. If ever you have need of us, you have only to call upon us.”
She stared at him in surprise and responded in the same broadcast truespeech he had used. “Lord Varien, have you not seen? You and the Kantri, all save a few, journey east this very day with the whole people of the Dhrenagan.”
Idea responded while the rest of us stood speechless. She hurried into the courtyard, pushing Shikrar aside in her haste. “What say you, youngling?” she demanded, agitation rattling her voice. “That was the true voice of vision, I know it. Whence comes thisP’
Salera seemed confused. “Lady, it is—it is knowing. It is true. It lies ahead as surely as the sunset. Why do you question?” Faced by our blank expressions, realisation dawned on Salera. She blinked in surprise. “Do you tell me that this Sight is not known to the Kantri?”
“We live in ignorance of our future, Salera,” replied Varien, masking his astonishment as best he could. “I gather from your words that you do not.”
She was projecting confusion and uncertainty. “We thought—I thought—Lady Lanen, surely you of the Gedri can see as we do?”
 
; “Not even slightly,” I replied, trying to keep my voice light. Salera appeared to be deeply disturbed at this revelation. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of warning, but we can’t see ahead.” I smiled at her. “To be honest, most of us have trouble enough seeing where we are, much less where we are going to be.”
“This requires thought,” she said, slowly. “We have made assumptions that do not appear to be true.”
“Then think on it while we are gone,” interjected Jamie rudely. ‘Tour pardon, Mistress Salera, but this lot would talk the sun down. We must go.”
“Jamie!”
“We are losing the daylight, Lanen,” he said impatiently. He was practically dancing to be gone—and I had to admit he was right. “Did I hear that you’re staying here?” he asked quietly.
“It seems the most sensible thing to do,” I replied. “Varien will be with me.”
“Thank the Goddess!” he responded fervently, hugging rne. “A battlefield is no place for you, with your babes to protect.” He released me, and there was a curious look in his eyes. “Though I have never known you to be so sensible before. You’re not growing wise, are you, my Lanen?”
“Surely not,” I replied, smiling. “Perhaps I’m simply being forced to grow up, eh? It would be nice to think that I’m balancing the fact that I’m being forced to grow out as well.”
Jamie grinned and turned to go. I caught him, hugged him again, and kissed his cheek. “Go you safe, Father, and keep you safe, and come safe home to me,” I said softly, our traditional words of farewell.
“So I will, my girl,” he said, and hurried off to join Shikrar.
Will
I stood beside Salera while the Healers made their plans. We had begged the time from the dragons who had offered to carry us. I knew in my bones that I had to be with Aral, that she would need me soon, but oh! After all those years of missing her, I was loath to bid Salera farewell so soon. Even to leave her side was hard.
“I tell you, we can manage with one just one Healer with each of the little dragons,” insisted Mile—he always hated being called Chalmik—to Vil and Aral as Jamie and Lanen were bidding each other farewell. ‘Trust me, we all paid attention in Magister Pos-rik’s classes. That’s how we survived the first attack in the Great Hall.” His voice grew lower and grimmer. ‘Think of it as a test. Those of us still alive can deal with demons.”
“And what about the times when you can’t?” replied Vilkas sternly. “Not all the Rikti respond to the same restraints. And I am here to tell you that the creature that dwelt in Rathen was one of the Rakshasa. They are a different problem altogether, and we know not how many like him there may be.”
“How would you know?” said Mik, stung by the implied criticism. “I’m sure you’re well up on theory, Vil, and you did well enough today once the actual demon was gone”—Vilkas started to protest volubly, which Mik ignored—“but I haven’t forgotten a thing about Posrik’s classes,” said Mik, sneering. “You turned white as a sheet the one time we dealt with a real demon. Damn near fainted.”
I would have smiled if I dared. Mik and Vilkas always put on a great show of not being able to stand the other’s presence. Idiots. And at such a time! Still, it made a kind of sense. The world they had known was literally lying in ruins at their feet. Their old rivalry was familiar, safe. Known.
Ah, and here came Aral, eyes snapping, to puncture the raucous pride of the young men’s display. I was proud of her.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, can’t you two give it a rest even now?” said Aral, exasperated, turning to Vilkas and frowning. “Vil, you know Mik’s right, demons make you lose your reason. Don’t snarl at Mik just because you—because you weren’t thinking straight last night. He survived. That took skill.” Then she turned to Chalmik, who was beginning to look rather smug.
Ai, I thought, cringing. Mik, you’re an idiot. For Shia’s sake, don’t smile at Vil’s discomfort! You ought to know Aral better than that.
“And don’t you bloody well pick on Vilkas,” she said, rounding on Mik and looking for all the world as if for two pins she’d slap his face for him. I swear, you’d never believe such concentrated defensive fury could exist in so small a frame.
“Leave it, Aral. I don’t need your help,” growled Vilkas. She ignored him.
“He’s dealt with more demons in the last week than you’ve ever seen in your life, including last night. We’ve been working without cease since Berys murdered Magistra Erthik. Vil’s done things people are going to write books about, if any of us get out alive. Back off.” The two young lads exchanged a speaking look over her head, male commiseration over the peculiar habits of the female, but she reached out and took each of them by the arm. “No more classes, lads,” she said, her voice low and solemn. “No more stupid rivalry. That world is gone. It’s all too bloody real now. We need to stick together.”
“It’s not enough, Aral,” replied Mik, more subdued now that she had forced him to let go his mask of scorn. “Vil’s right. I know I can manage the little ones, but—I’m still learning to be a Healer. I’m not gifted like you two, I’m just one of the crowd. I learned last night that I can hold off demons, and I’ve a reasonable idea of how I managed it, but what if I have to face a Healer with twice my strength?”
“There are only two ways to get rid of a demon,” said Vilkas, starting to grin. He could see over Mik’s shoulder, of course. “Run or have a dragon handy.”
“I can’t run very bloody fast,” grunted Mik.
“Then let us not depend on the strength of your legs, Master Chalmik,” said a clear voice from close behind the young Healer. He jumped a foot, and Aral howled with laughter as Salera stepped forward.
“Forgive me, Master Chalmik,” Salera said. “Magister Rikard said that I should speak with you regarding the partnerships we seek to create.” She gazed into his eyes, her soulgem bright in the late afternoon sun. “He suggested that I should work with you, setting up teams, planning our—our strategy.” She sounded proud, though whether that stemmed from remembering the word or being able to pronounce it, I was not certain. “I am willing if you are.”
Mik blinked. Knowing him, he was too touched to speak. I knew only a little of his history, but from what I could recall there was precious little of kindness in it, and less respect. You’ve caught him on the hop, Salera, you clever soul, I thought. Well done, lass!
“She’s the leader of her people, Mik. You won’t get a better offer this year,” said Aral, gently teasing.
“I’ve a feeling you may be right, Aral,” declared Mik, finally allowing a slow grin to cross his face. “I’d be honoured, Mistress Salera. Though I still think we need another Healer. I’m damned new at this.”
“I have seen your heart, Chalmik of Durrum,” she replied, “and others have told me of your kindness. You are not nearly so limited as you choose to believe.”
Mik’s grin widened. “Very well, then,” he said, raising his hand, palm out. Salera touched her palm with his. “As long as you stop calling me Chalmik. That’s my dad’s name, it sounds like you’re talking to my father. I’m just Mik.”
“Very well, Chustmik,” replied Salera as she let out a great hiss. Mik jumped back several feet.
“It means she’s amused, lad,” I reassured him as he caught his breath and let his heart slow back to normal.
Mik turned to me, annoyed. “And that’s another thing. How in all the Hells do you know what that means?”
I ignored him, for the others were preparing to leave. The time was come.
“Salera, my lass,” I began, but she was already moving towards me. Despite the lack of expression on her bright face, the young Healers all turned away. Salera did not speak at first and nor did I, we simply gazed at one another for a moment—and then she bowed her head, like any daughter wanting the kiss of benison from her father at parting. I leaned in and touched my lips briefly to her brilliant blue soulgem, then threw my arms about her great long neck.
“It’
ll all come right, littling,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, the strange, spicy smell of her hide awakening a hundred memories from when she was a kitling. “We’ve found each other after all this time, haven’t we? We’ll manage it again when this is over.” She did not reply, just rested her head against my back for a moment. “Your life is all before you, and a great work awaits. I know you will do all things well,” I said softly. “I trust—I know all will be—” I faltered for a moment, then moved a little away and gazed deep into her eyes. “Salera, my heart’s daughter. I am so very proud of you.”
There was a moment of utter stillness between us, when we did not breathe and I’d swear our hearts didn’t beat, and for that timeless moment there were only the two of us in all the world.
But time still flows, and we stood back from one another—and the dratted creature got in the last word. “She does not know, my father, but have patience,” she whispered to me. “Aral is very clever. She will see you in time.”
She dropped her jaw and grinned at me, then turned to walk slowly away with Chalmik.
It was time to go.
Shikrar
Before I could question Salera further about this astounding ability the Lesser Kindred seemed to possess, Idai glanced up and said, “Shikrar, behold, one comes from the west.” She sounded puzzled. “But it flies in from the sea. Surely we are all here? It cannot be Nikis!”
“I cannot tell from—this range—” I replied as my words began to falter. I felt a cold wind rising. That distant form cast a shadow over my heart.
“May all the Winds preserve us,” whispered Idai. I felt the shiver that trembled through her. “Shikrar, it cannot be!”
The shape was right for one of us, but this creature was too high up and too far off and moved—oddly. It flew stupidly, impossibly, vast black wings flapping like a crow even at that height, where it should soar on the kindly winds. It looked to be twice my size and black as night, and when it passed between me and the lowering sun I shivered from horns to talons, and for that moment I felt as though my heart were turned to stone and would never beat again. In that desolate silence one of the oldest legends of our people whispered through my heart like the hiss of falling snow.