Crystal Gryphon (19 page)

Neevor nodded to me. “Just so,” he said, as if pleased. “Look to your key, Joisan, for it will turn only for you, as that one who dabbled in what was far beyond him knew.”

“Key?” I was bemused by his order.

“Ah, child, what wear you now upon your breast? Freely given to you it was with goodwill, by one who found the lost—and not by chance. Patterns are set in one time, to be followed to the end of all years to come. Woven in, woven out—”

The tip of his staff moved across the ground back and form. I watched it, feeling that I could understand its meaning if I only made some effort, knew more.

I heard him laugh. “You shall, Joisan, you shall—all in good time.”

My lord opened his eyes, and there was life and recognition in his expression, but also puzzlement. He stirred as if to leave my hold, but I tightened that.

“I am—” he said slowly.

Neevor stood beside us, regarding us with the warmth of a smile.

“In this time and place you are Kerovan. Perhaps a little less than you once were, but with the way before you to return if you wish. Did I not name you ‘kinsman'?”

“But I—I was—”

Neevor's staff touched him once more on the forehead. “You were a part, not the whole. As you now are, you could not long contain what came to remind you of what you were and can be. Just as those poor fools could not contain the evil they called down, which consumed them in the end. Be content, Kerovan, yet seek—for those who seek find.” He turned a little and pointed with his staff to the blankness of the cliff. “There lies the gate; open it when you wish, there is much beyond to interest you.”

With that he was gone!

“My Lord!”

He struggled up, breaking my hold. Not to put me aside as I feared he now would, but rather to take me in his arms.

“Joisan!” He said only my name, but that was enough. This was the oneness I had ever sought, without knowing, and finding it was all the riches of the world spread before me for the taking.

19

Kerovan

I held Joisan in my arms. I was Kerovan, surely I was Kerovan. Still—

Because that memory of the other one, the one who had worn my body for a space as I have worn mail, clung, so did I also cling to Joisan, who was human, who was living as I knew life and not—

Then the full sense of who and what I was as Kerovan returned. Gently I loosed my hold of her. Standing, I drew her to her feet. Then I was aware that the happiness of her face was fading and she watched me with troubled eyes.

“You—you are going away!” She clutched my forearms with her hands, would not let me turn from her. “I can feel it—you are going from me because you wish to!” Now her words had an angry ring.

I could remember our first meeting and how she had looked upon me then—I who was not wholly human, part something else that I did not yet know or understand.

“I am not an Old One,” I told her straightly. “I am indeed Kerovan, who was born thus!” I shook off her hold
to step back and show her one of those hoofed feet, thrust stiffly out that she might see it plain. “I was born by sorcery, to become a tool for one who aspired to the Power. You watched her try to destroy what she had created, and instead she herself was destroyed.”

Joisan glanced to where the flame had eaten up those two.

“Twice-cursed was I from the beginning: by my father's line and by my mother's desire. Do you understand? No fit mate for any human woman am I. I have said—Kerovan is dead. That is the truth, just as Ulmsdale is destroyed, and with it all the House of Ulm. ...”

“You are my promised, wedded lord, call yourself what you desire.”

How could I break that tie she pulled so tight between us? Half of me, no, more than half, wanted to yield, to be as other men. But the fact that I had been a vessel into which something else had poured, even though that was gone again—How could I be sure it would not return, with force enough to reach out to Joisan? I could not—tainted, cursed, deformed—give me that name best-suited. I was no lord for her.

Once more I retreated, edging away, lest her hand meet mine once again and I could not control the desire of that part of me human-rooted. Yet I could not turn and go from her, leave her alone in the Waste. And if I went with her, back to her people, could I continue to hold to my resolve?

“Did you not listen to Neevor?” She did not follow me; rather she stood, her hands clasped on her breast over the englobed gryphon. “Did you not listen then?” Still there was anger in her voice, and she regarded me as one who is exasperated by stupidity.

“He called you kinsman—therefore you are more than you deem yourself. You are you—no tool for any one, Kerovan. And you are my dear Lord. If you strive to say
me ‘no,’ then you shall discover I have no pride. I shall follow wherever you go, and in the face of all shall I claim you. Do you believe me?”

I did, and believing could see that now I could not deal otherwise than seem to agree.

“Yes,” I made simple answer.

“Good enough. And if in the future you try to walk away from me again, never shall you find that easy.” It was not a warning of a promise, but a statement of fact. Having seemingly settled that to her satisfaction, she looked once more to the cliff.

“Neevor spoke of a door and a key which I hold. Someday I shall put that to the test.”

“Someday?” Yes, I could remember Neevor's words better now that I had my emotions under control.

“Yes. We—we are not ready—I think—I feel—” Joisan nodded. “It is something we must do together, remember that, Kerovan—
together!”

“Where to, then? Back to your people?” I felt rootless, lost in these dales. I would leave the choice to her, since all my ties were gone save one.

“That is best,” she answered briskly. “I have promised them what measure of safety can be found nowadays. When they have won to that, then we shall be free!”

Joisan flung wide her arms, as if the taste of that freedom was already hers. But could it be freedom if she held to that other tie? I would walk her road for now because I had no choice. But never would I let her be the loser because she looked at me and saw a Kerovan to whom she was oath-tied.

20

Joisan

My poor lord, how bitter must have been his hurts in the past! I wish that I could run back down the years and rub out the memory of each, one by one. He has been named monster until he believes it—but if he could only look upon himself through my eyes—

We shall walk together, and I shall build a mirror that he may see himself as he is, and, so seeing, be free from all the sorrow the Dark Ones laid upon him. Yes, we shall return to my people—though they are not truly mine anymore—for I feel as one who has taken another road and can look back only a little way. We shall make sure that they reach Norsdale. For the rest—

So I thought in that hour, and wise was that thought. For sometimes wisdom comes not altogether through age and experience, but suddenly like an arrow flight. I nursed my key within my hand—that bride gift which had been first my bane and then my salvation. I put my other hand within my lord's, so we went together, turning away for a
space from the gate Neevor promised us, knowing within my heart that we would return and that it would open upon—But what mattered what lay beyond if we went together to see?

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1972 by Andre Norton

ISBN: 978-1-4976-5616-1

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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