Lhind the Thief (35 page)

He cupped his hand around my cheek. “I want to. More than
anything, ever, in my life so far.” His gaze was unwavering. “But the search is
going to be out, and they will find us if we don’t get moving.”

“Tell me first how you got away.”

“I made an illusion. It got me into the street, then I felt
that mage trying to find me by tracer, and I ended it, just before I caught a
ride on the back of a wagon. I hid among the barrels, and dropped off the road
right up there. Searchers ought to be along any time, now.”

“You’d better take this.” I pulled the book from under my
tunic, where I’d stashed it between roof-leaps.

I opened it, watching rain fall on those unreadable words.
“So much evil. Why don’t we rip it up and toss it into the river? Faryana said
to destroy it.”

“I’d love to destroy it, but with my respect, Faryana,” he
raised his voice slightly, “you know that is not my decision to make.”

I did not dare open the pinhole to find out what she might
say. “Dhes-Andis is also going to be searching,” I said. He had to be hovering
around in the mind-realm, waiting to pounce.

Hlanan’s mouth tightened briefly. “I haven’t forgotten.
Neither of us can try magic again. I’ve no doubt that mage has my magic
signature by now, and though we don’t know who is talking to who, or how much
they are revealing, we can assume that Dhes-Andis will cooperate with anyone
who nets him that book.”

“I’ll call some horses,” I began, and then cold pooled in my
stomach. “No. I can’t.”

You can,
came
Faryana’s voice.

I nearly jumped straight into the air.

You are too tired—you
are leaking thoughts
, she sent, and instinctively I widened the pinhole as
she began,
But I will teach you—

The roar of thunder blasted my skull. Dhes-Andis!

I fell to my knees, my hands clutched over my head to keep
it from flying to pieces as pain lanced through me, brighter and sharper than
lightning.

But Faryana had learned my own range, and I ‘saw’ her as she
reached . . . and took control of my mind. My hands. A hum
resonated through me, soft and harmonic. My fingers braided signs in the air,
making light shiver and dance, and—

The assault ended up abruptly.

Faryana released control of me, and I sagged, to discover
myself in Hlanan’s arms again. “What’s wrong?” he repeated over and over, his
voice high with anxiousness.

Faryana said,
We
rarely teach that before a certain level of learning. But I know you well
enough now to trust you. You have shut the Emperor of Sveran Djur away by
magical ward. You can shut anyone out of the mental realm the same way.

Thank you,
I
responded, and opened my eyes. It took a couple of breaths to get control of my
shuddering, but then I explained what had happened, as Hlanan gazed at me with
wide eyes. Then I said, “So now I can call horses. We’ll soon be riding.”

“We,” Hlanan said slowly, “yes. But not together.”

I gazed at him in surprise. “What did I do wrong?” My face
flushed to my ears. “Was it because I kissed you?”

“No!” His hands came up. His smile was crooked, his voice
ragged. “Besides, I think that was an impulse we both shared.”

I grinned, heady with relief. Oh, yes, this new emotion
could hurt worse than the cut of the sharpest knife, but the possibility of
happiness was also there, stronger than that sense of the sun just beyond a
distant mountain at dawn.

Hlanan let out a short breath, then said, “It’s this cursed
book. And the fact that Morith knows me.” He glanced worriedly at the road, which was still empty. “I
want her chasing
me
. Not you. She
doesn’t know who you are, and I want to keep it that way. If I’m right, it
won’t be for long.”

He looked back at the city, diffuse in the gray, watery
light.

“Does your ‘if I’m right’ have something to do with those
papers you gave that Tolvar fellow?”

“Yes. He’s the nephew of the King of Liacz, sent to this
kingdom as governor. I guess she couldn’t seduce him, or buy him, or coerce
him. I gave him her secret correspondence with certain nobles in this kingdom,
who apparently can be seduced, bought, or coerced.”

“Ugh.” And, listening in the mental realm, which was
blessedly free of any evil emperors, “Horses will be here shortly.”

He gazed bemusedly at that evil book, his manner odd, as if
he wanted to say something.

I tried to help. “I still don’t see why we should separate.”

He glanced my way, and his tense expression softened.
“Because somebody needs to get to Erev-li-Erval, and report what happened at
Alezand. That’s at least as important as returning this thing.” He flapped the
book. “I’ve got an idea. If I’m right about how Liacz’s king will react to
those papers, all I need to do is get the Grays to chase me, but stay out of
their hands long enough for Liacz to be raised. If that goes as planned, we’ll
meet . . .” He looked away, then braced his shoulders, as if he
had come to a decision. “We will meet in the imperial city.”

“Where?”

“Find the . . .”

The sound of hoof beats caused us both to look up sharply.
Then, as one, we ducked behind the drooping willow growing along the river’s
edge, as a patrol of Wolf Grays galloped by.

Once they’d vanished into the rainy distance, I looked in
the other direction, and here came a couple of frisky horses.

Hlanan stretched out a hand toward me, and when I didn’t
move, he touched my face lightly, his thumb stroking along my jaw. Sweetness
and sorrow hollowed me inside, and I gulped, my eyes stinging.

He backed away. “Stay safe, Lhind.”

“You, too. Do you . . .” My throat
constricted.

How strange it was. Here’s me, enthusiastically using stinks
to keep the world at a safe distance, undone by the briefest touch of
tenderness. “Need money?” I forced the words out.

“More nippily-gotten gains?” His smile was sweet, but also
brief, a flash of brightness. “No. I’ll be fine. Go. East by north, to where
the mountains reach the sea. You can catch a transport at Halfmoon Bay, which
will take you to the end of the peninsula, where you’ll find the imperial
city.” His smile went crooked again. “This will give you a fine chance to
invent some new disguises.”

I couldn’t bear to prolong the moment.
Is this what people who pair off live with every day?

The impulse to ride and ride, never stopping until I’d
outrun the hurt of separation—the vulnerability, the expectations—was nearly
overwhelming. I threw myself on one horse’s back, and turned my head to see
Hlanan’s horse fording the river, his shoulders tense, his brown hair, tied in
a tail, dripping down his back. He was riding out in the open, waiting to be
seen.

I turned away, and began to ride along the hedgerows.

o0o

A week and two days later, Little Moon had risen and the
stars began wheeling toward midnight when my latest mount slowed to a drooping
plod. Though my muscles felt unstrung and my bones as heavy as stone from
exhaustion, the sense of urgency had not abated; so far I’d seen nothing, but I
knew that I was pursued, and relentlessly.

I’d managed to scrounge food along the way, sometimes growing
wild, occasionally from villages. I raided kitchen gardens, but paid for cooked
food, when it seemed safe enough to indulge the luxury. I took brief naps high
in the boles of trees, and once in an abandoned fox nest under thick brush.

Never enough rest.

I forced my attention to the ghostly stretch of fields ahead
of me, and on the mare’s moon-touched mane stirring in the breeze. Her hooves
flashed among the tall grasses, slower at each step.

On my right, the jagged mountains created a silhouette
against the hazy, thin clouds not quite masking the brightest stars. We’d
turned northward that day, my intent to ride alongside the Anadhan Mountains
until they guided me to the coast. Judging by the infrequent signs, I’d reached
the last of the frontier that both Namas Ilan and Liacz shared. No one owned
this land. The signs were all of nomadic travelers, or herds of animals ranging
for grass.

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.