Lhind the Thief (36 page)

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, and 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!”

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 snowtops 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.

Then I recognized his long apricot hair.

I stared mutely up into Geric Lendan’s triumphant smirk.

“What a fool you are, thief,” he drawled, teeth showing in a
contemptuous grin. “Did you really think you’d enter this city without my
knowing?” He lifted a ringed hand and gestured to his companions. “Disarm and
search this creature. No need to be gentle,” he added with smiling cruelty.

They dismounted and came toward me—

But before they could touch me, a muted flash of light
startled us all. Four figures dressed in unrelieved black appeared out of
nowhere.

Geric’s companions retreated in alarm. The angry prince
forced his nervous horse between me and the newcomers.

“This is a thief,” Geric said, “who has stolen something of
value from me. I did not summon you, and I do not need your help. Since when do
you interfere in a question of justice to be decided by a Prince of the Golden
Circle?”