I was furious at Marik, angry at myself, angry that I was angry at this moment when at last I would see Akor in the light of day. I tried as I ran to clear my mind of Marik and his lies, and of the sick passion I had felt; I was amazed at the strength of it. Then my mind whispered, Amulet, Lanen. He was wearing the amulet he wore in Illara, or a better one. It pressed hard against your right breast as you embraced, remember?
As before, once I realised I had been influenced by a spell much of its force dissipated; but I could not so easily make my body forget the feelings it had been roused to. Still, fear and running helped—as did a certain wild exultation I could not explain, as though by defeating Marik physically I had struck a blow for my freedom. I expected at any moment to hear the out cry, or worse to hear Marik’s guards pelting along behind me, but so far there was nothing—and already the Boundary fence loomed before me in the gathering dusk. I ran across the wide pathway before it and stood close against the fence, seeking the lengthening shadow of the trees in case they found me. I caught my breath and listened for Akor. I was not in the place we had agreed on, and I did not dare call to him in truespeech in case another heard. I could only wait, trembling and talking to myself, hoping he would find me by smell or some other sense I might not know of. Fortunately, I had plenty to say to me.
Right, my girl. So you have awakened at last. Is that so terrible? More a reason to rejoice, I would have thought. You are not so immune as you had thought, there is a woman in you after all. And twenty-four years is long enough a maid!
But such a man! He sickens me, he might be my father, I am so ashamed.
He had an amulet. You were responding to the demons, not to him. There is no cause for shame in this. Anger, yes, but the shame is his. It is no crime for you to have such feelings. As for Marik, it is all one; he will not take you in again.
I would kill him first, I thought, listening still for signs of pursuit.
You would not be so foolish. Remember what Jamie said. “Never kill unless you are forced to it, Lanen. The souls so ripped from life do not sleep quietly, and neither does the one who severed them from the world.” But come, Lanen, have done! Turn to other things while you can. This is the moment you have awaited all these years. Akor will be with you, just the two of you in concord. There will be no barriers between you for this once. This may be your last speech with any of the Kindred, Lanen, and it may be your one best chance to speak with the one you truly—with Akor.
There were still no signs that the hunt was up and following me. I couldn’t understand it, though I blessed the chance. I didn’t think I had done Marik any serious damage, though I certainly knocked him out for a while, as well perhaps as the guard on top. But where was the other?
And where was Akor? Could he not find me? Oh, blessed Lady, let him find me swiftly. I took in a deep breath to steady myself, and as I breathed out, I let myself whisper just below hearing, “Kordeshkistriakor.”
The very mention of his name seemed a talisman against the false feelings Marik’s amulet had engendered. It was as if a bright light had risen in my heart, and by that light the candle flame I had been watching so closely disappeared altogether. I was still terrified, still listening for the hue and cry I knew must come, but of Marik as a man I thought no more.
I could not stand still. I wrapped my cloak close about me and started moving quickly and quietly away west along the Boundary, away from the camp. Akor’s true name rang in me like a bell on a winter’s morning, crisp and clear and full of promise, giving me hope through my fear, but I had to keep moving. Perhaps I imagined it—I was some long way from the camp, after all—but I thought I began to hear voices crying out in the distance. As I walked in the shadows and prayed for Akor to find me, the last light of the sun lay bright on the lands about me, a gentle end to the day as the world knew it, and I could barely understand how it could be so unconcerned. The light turned the very air golden, granting a last warming glow to the ill-dressed trees and lending even the fading grass a memory of summer splendour. I wanted storms, or a mist to hide me, something as violent as the fear and loathing that had gripped me, but the day ended in calm beauty, ignoring me entirely. I could hardly bear it.
Akhor
The startling thing was that I could feel her approach. The thoughts of her heart were often easy for me to read, but I had not known that kind of bond since I was a youngling first learning to screen out the hearts and minds of others. I heard her say my true name somehow (not in the Language of Truth, but something akin). From that moment I felt her every step, I could very nearly see out of her eyes, and most certainly I felt her fear. I even saw briefly the image of the one she had warned us against.
I called to her, close focussed, in truespeech. She was startled but pleased. “Yes my friend? more than friend dear one oh dear Lady what am I to do? “.
“Say nothing more, keep silent Lanen for our friendship’s sake!”
Shikrar at least had surely heard. Where to go?
“I know not where you are, but can you find the place of Summoning the Merchants use? It is some way west and north of where we have been meeting. You will know it easily, there is a narrow way with a gate. Pass into the small space that extends a little into the trees; I shall await You.
“And now, little sister, I must ask you to do something very difficult. You must see a small opening, no larger than your hand can make, and send through it to me only those thoughts we may allow Shikrar to hear. You must give me your thanks for telling you of tomorrow’s Council meeting, and that you will wait our decision. Clear your mind first of any other thoughts, concentrate, and send those words to me through that small opening. No larger than it must be, little one.”
I was obscurely disturbed by my capacity for deception, but I could not allow this one chance to pass by. I feared the Council would find against me—how could they not?—and I must obey their commands. What I planned to do this night would frighten most of them, but I intended to break no more laws. We would speak as we had before. I would not place my Kindred in danger, and though I would not be so secretive as Shikrar would have me, I would keep such barriers of Discipline about me as I must for the safety of my people.
I felt her make a deep effort to concentrate and try to rid her mind of everything save what Shikrar needed to hear. It was not a bad attempt, and certainly a vast improvement on what had gone before. She learned quickly.
“I thank you, my friend oh dear friend. I hear what your Council might say oh please let them understand but I shall abide by your wishes in all things. I shall wait to hear from you tomorrow night.”
It was very convincing. The last portion was quite clear of underthought. I was pleased; she had a natural talent for truespeech and needed only a little instruction and some practice. “That was well done,” I told her.
“And now, little sister,” I sent to her, controlled, calm, keeping my heart closed to her as best I could. “Come to me.”
Lanen
I had come by chance near the place he meant, and as I walked and listened to him I found the little square space with its gate. Somehow, once I was inside, hidden by the trees, separated by only an ancient fence from safety and love, I lost much of my fear. Let them search! How should they find me? And who would dare attack me, with Akor no distance away? I wept then, for relief, then very deliberately loosed my hair from its braid. Let him see me as few others had. It was only fair.
I tried to think of how to tell him about what had happened, or of any of the thousand questions I had always wanted to ask, but I could barely think at all. I felt him near, all my being was moving me, moment by moment, away from fear and towards Akor.
Akor.
The very name hung between us like a silken cord, pulling me towards where he waited; I could feel it tugging at me.
Akor, Akor.
Akhor
I waited in hiding, that she should see me only when she herself requested it. I held tightly to Calm, breathed as that
Discipline demanded, tried to keep my mind clear of my foolish thoughts.
I had thought I was prepared, but I could not have known. None of the Disciplines, none of my training, nothing in all my centuries had prepared me for that bond, unspoken, unexpected, unrealised in its fullness until that hour. Nothing could have prepared me for the sound of her voice so full of what I was feeling, for the sight of her in the daylight seen clearly at last.
When she whispered up to me through the trees, trembling, her heart full of love, I nearly stopped breathing. It was as though her words were tied to the strings of my heart, and each note plucked at my pulse like wild, distant music. I forgot my strong resolve, forgot my determination to remain cautious and wary, forgot everything but the sound of her voice and that she seemed to me in all ways more wondrous than any creature I had ever known.
Lanen
“Akor?” I whispered. “Akor, are you there?”
Akhor
“I am here, dear one,” I replied.
And with those words I released all fears. I would not think of Shikrar, or of the Kindred, or of what might happen. For once in my long life I would live as if there would be no tomorrow.
I felt the Fire stir within me. No more boundaries. There were only the two of us now, and whatever truth we might find together. I moved forward slowly into a small gap in the trees, trying to still this mad riot in myself. I remembered at least to speak quietly for her.
She gasped as I came into her sight. I did not have to ask why. Were we differently made, I would have done so as well.
Her hair like a living waterfall waved gently in the breeze, gleaming the same colour as the sunset, and her eyes were grey as winter storms. She was altogether beautiful, tall for her kind and lithe as I had seen her that first day, and her mind and heart were open to me. There was the true beauty of her:
I found myself wondering what colour her soulgem would be.
Lanen
I will never forget seeing him in the light of the setting sun .
He was more glorious in the day than he had been by the light of the moon. Even in that golden light he shone silver. The sun caught his soulgem as he leaned down to me and it sent out a flash of emerald fire. His eyes were green as well, of the same hue, as though the same fire burned behind all. He seemed for a moment to be the work of some unimaginable jeweller. I could see his scales now, how smoothly they slid over one another. And I had been wrong about his face, it was not truly a mask. There was a wide ridge of bone on top, of a piece with the horns that curved back and up—but below that was what looked like soft skin with small scales on it. I longed to reach out and touch, see what it felt like.
And he said, “My dear one, you are welcome.” I didn’t even bother to ask how he knew my thoughts. He came close, close, his head near my hand, as he had been the first night when he told me his name. And his voice was soft and more full of song than ever man’s could be.
“I permit, Lanen. Touch me. Know that I am here, that I am real.”
“That I feel as you do.”
I began to reach out and found my hands would not obey. I stared, lost in wonder at this wonder before me. Slowly, slowly, I reached out one hand and touched his face on the long ridge below his eyes.
It was warm, even that smooth silver bone was warm.
I moved my hand slowly; slowly, in awe at what I did, to the soft skin below. My hand trembled as I was trembling, I could bear only the lightest touch of him. The scales were no larger than my fingernail, the skin was soft as a snake’s.
I snatched my hand away as though I had been stung, clenched both my fists at my waist as I tried to hold in the emotions that swept through me.
“No,” I said, and began to weep.
“And still when we meet you make seawater. But these are not tears of joy, my Lanen.”
“Don’t call me that!”
He drew away from me. “Forgive me! I thought … no, I am certain. I can hear your heart as though it were my own, and in this great folly I know we are one.” He came back close, but stayed on his side of the Boundary. “I have not known such a love before, Lanen, but I cannot deny it now. My heart beats with yours, I hear your lightest thought. Do you tell me you do not feel as I know you do?”
I couldn’t look at him any longer. “I meant never to tell you! I thought this was no more than my own insanity. I would come to you and you would bring me to my senses with your calmness, calling me little one, littling, so I would realise how impossible this all is. And there you stand talking of love, as though we were one Kindred.”
He bowed his head and closed his eyes. It was as he had said, in some way beyond knowing we were one. I could feel his sorrow.
I could not think. My heart was both confused and sure, my head whirling with what was and could not be. But truth calls out truth, and I could not help but tell him my own.
“I will not, I cannot lie to you, Akor. Akor, my dear one.”
The great gleaming eyes were fastened on me. “I love you, Akor, beyond sense and beyond reason. Not because you are a Dragon, not because you are the first of your people to speak with me. I love you.” I bowed my head. “Our laws, our forms, even this wall of wood stand between us. But I love you, now and always, may the Lady help me. May she help us both.”
Silence fell between us as full as my heart. The sun sank behind the trees and twilight was upon us.
“Please, Akor, say something,” I said. “Speak to me.”
Akhor
I did not trust myself to speak. I did not know what would come out.
I did not care.
At first I could say nothing but her name.
“Lanen. Lanen. Lanen. ”
She covered her face with her hands. I knew she wept, but she seemed almost to be laughing at the same time.
I reached out to her putting my foreleg close to her, “Will you allow?” I asked softly.
She looked up, saw my clawed hand, looked back at me and nodded.
It must have been frightening but she never flinched. I spread my claws back and wide and touched her face with the inside of my palm, where we are most sensitive.
Even water was not so soft as her skin.
I trembled. I, Khordeshkhistriakhor, Silver King of the Kantrishakrim, trembled in wonder at the feel of a woman’s skin. I moved my hand away that I might not harm her by accident. Surely the lightest touch of my claws would rend that fragile hide.
“My soul to the Winds, Lanen Kaelar, I am lost as you are lost,” I said softly. “And though we know this love cannot be as love for our own kind, at the least we may stand together as friends.”
“At the least. But still the Boundary lies between us. Your people will know if I cross it.”
“That is so. But they will not know if I cross it, not instantly, and it is in my heart to take you to a place where we may talk for a few hours in peace. We need only wait for true dark, and so late in the year it will not be long coming.”
Indeed, it was nearly dark already.
“What will happen if they find us?” she asked quietly.
“I do not know, dear one, but they will have to reckon with me to get to you.”
Lanen
I was distracted by the sound of people, not too near but not very far away either. I drew a deep breath, knowing that I risked all by telling him, knowing that I must speak. “I thank you for that, dear friend, but I must tell you, much has happened to me this day. I am hunted now by my own people, for Marik tried to kill me and I escaped him.”
“Ah,” he said sadly: “So that is the fear in your voice—and something else, I think. Why did he seek your death?”
The noise of pursuit grew louder. “Akor, there is no time. They will find me soon. Dear friend, forgive me, I never meant to bring you into this coil, but if we are to go somewhere, we must leave now.”
“Very well, little sister,” he replied, the sadness still soft in his voice.
“Is it far to walk?” I as
ked, hoping it wouldn’t be. My legs still trembled.
“Dear one, it would take days to walk there. No, we must fly.”
To say I was taken by surprise is like saying the Kai is a river—it’s true, but it misses the scale of the thing. All I could think of was one of the dragon ballads, in which the villain of the piece “fell from the earth to the sky in the clutch of the vast-winged beast.” It had always struck me as a particularly terrible thing, but time was short and I wasn’t going to ask questions.
“Lanen, will you come with me?” he asked, and in his voice lay all my future.
“Yes, Akor. With all my heart,” I said: “But how shall we ….
He looked up. The first stars were out, twilight but a brighter memory in the west. “Wait there but a moment,” he said, and was gone in a muted clap of thunder.
Flying. In my wildest dreams I had imagined such a thing, but I never really thought—
“Come, Lanen,” said Akor from behind me.
There he stood, gleaming silver even in near-darkness. And there was no Boundary.
“Swiftly now, your pursuers approach. Climb up on my shoulders, there is a place above my wings where I believe you might sit.”
I saw the place he meant. It was half again the girth of the roundest-bellied horse ever made. Bareback and with no reins, I thought. And a damn sight farther to fall. Still, I climbed up—or rather, he lay down as flat as he could on the ground and I clambered up the last few feet.
I fell off as soon as he stood up.
“This isn’t going to work,” I told him, rubbing my backside and brushing off the leaves. “I haven’t fallen off anything with four feet since I was a child.” I grinned up at him. “Shame you don’t have a mane to hang on to.”
“Lanen, we must hurry,” whispered Akor urgently. “Will you try again?”
“Believe me, it won’t work, your neck is too wide there for me to get my legs around.” Again the words of the ballad flashed through my mind. Couldn’t hurt to mention it. “Could you carry me in your … your hands?”