The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2) (37 page)

"He had a dark vision of world's ending," I said. "He tried to kill her, and only my friend Shikrar prevented it. Rishkaan said—"

"He said I would mingle the blood of the Kantri and the Gedri, that I would bear monsters, that the world would fill with Raksha-fire and there would be no one to stop it because of me," said Lanen, her tears falling unnoticed. "Is it true? Oh Goddess, no, is it true? Are they monsters?"

"Don't be stupid, woman. They are perfectly human creatures, if that can be said of babes so tiny," said Vilkas sharply. "But the mingling of the blood is not happening, and it must happen. If they are to live, the two must blend and become something new, something that will sustain both them and you."

"What in all the world can I do about it?" Lanen asked.

Aral spoke again. "It's all in your mind, Lanen—well, at least that's where it starts. This is all very new and we don't really have words for it, but I think—I think you have to let these babes be what they are, both dragon and human, no matter what you think of it, and—Vil, is this right?"

"Yes," he replied. All this while he had been sending a steady stream of power into Lanen, giving her his strength. "But there is more. For this change to happen, Lady," he said, gazing into her eyes, "you must love them. As they are, what they are, who and what they will become—you must love them and be willing to be changed by them, shaped by them, as they have been shaped by you and your husband."

"First is the Wind of Change, Second is Shaping, my Lanen," I said, with a shiver. "Although it costs me nothing to speak thus, for it is thou who art being shaped." I grasped her hand tight, making her look at me. "Kadreshi—"

"No, Akor," she said, and her voice had some of its usual strength. "They're right. Lady—I can't remember—"

"I'm called Aral," the little Healer said.

"Aral. What do I do?"

She smiled. "First, we ask the one who's the focus of the healing. Vil?"

He looked up, his face carefully neutral. "We will work together, Mistress Lanen. You must welcome the dragon—"

"Kantri, please," she said. "They call themselves the Kantri."

He managed a small smile. "You must welcome the blood of the Kantri into your body, and I will work to change your own blood that it might support both Kantri and human at once." He gazed at her. "You must understand, Lady. This is the only way you will be able to survive, but it will change you forever. You will not be able to go back to the way you were."

My valiant lady laughed, despite her pain and fear. From her true heart, in despite of all that beset her, she laughed. "Akor, you see, all is well. This is my turn!" She grinned at me. "Mind you, I have the easy part. I have these kind folk to keep the pain at bay, and I'm not going to be growing wings or losing anything I had before."

"Are you certain, my heart?" I asked.

"Certain sure, Varien," she said. "Very well, O great mage Vilkas. When shall we begin?"

"When you are ready, lady," he said.

"Then let it be done now," she replied.

He stood up, not touching Lanen at all. "Aral, I need you," he said. I was surprised at the flare in the girl's corona at those words, but she said nothing as she drew nigh to Lanen. They stood one on either side of the bed and raised their hands—well, Aral raised and Vilkas lowered—so that their palms were a finger's breadth apart. They stood thus with their eyes closed, allowing their coronas to combine. Together they were far brighter than they had been separately.

Aral, however, opened her eyes and regarded her companion. "Vilkas," she said gently, "this is too great a work to approach half-made. Behold, you are safe. There are none here that you need to fear, all is well, all is healing and the work of the Lady. We cannot do this with the tiny portion of strength you have restricted yourself to. We are going to need your true gift, my friend. The time has come, as you knew it would."

I have no idea why I said mat, but as the words passed my lips I knew they were true. Lady, it scares me when that kind of thing happens.

"I am not prepared, Aral," he answered me, but it was an excuse and we both knew it.

"You do not need to be prepared All the power you could ever need is within you, at your command, as it has ever been. Call upon it and loose it gently, Vil. All will be well. Gently, slowly, under control. The power that is in you, release it to serve the Lady Shia and the Lady Lanen who lies before us in her need, blessing and blessed," I intoned.

I suppose I should have expected it, but how was I to know?

When next I looked down Lanen was floating above the bed at waist level. Vilkas's waist level. Her eyes were open and aware, but only aware of Vilkas. I don't think he meant to do it; my guess has always been that it was just that his back was aching and he needed to see closer, so he brought her closer, but it was certainly a first.

I looked at Lanen, so near to my eyes, and was almost blinded by the blue Healer's fire from Vilkas. It was astounding. She was all but transparent—I could see every bone, every organ in her body, her very blood as it was flowing through her veins.

I stood amazed as Vilkas poured strength into her, as he watched the blood circulating, as he looked deep into the structure of blood itself and understood.

Then he spoke. Blessed Shia, that voice. I freely admit that Vil's voice is one of the best parts of him, but when he spoke from the heart of that healing sun he sounded wise and strong and—older. A lot older. Several hundred years older.

"Lanen Kaelar, it is time," he said.

"Whenever you're ready," she replied, and managed to add, "Name of the Winds, Akor, he sounds like the Kantri!"

Vilkas raised his hands high and summoned all that blaze of power into a ball the size of his hand. It glowed blue-white and was soon too bright to look at. With a gentle gesture he pushed that blue-white sun into her body, where it spread in an instant to fill her from top to toe. For a moment she floated there, pulsing with that power that beat with her

heart's rhythm. Then I saw Vilkas—this is so hard to describe—as if he held back the last note of a song, or the last drop of water that will make the jug overflow. It glimmered in the palm of his hand.

Then suddenly I felt the pulsation begin to falter. Lanen cried out. Vilkas shouted over her cries. "Bear with it, it changes, all is well, all is well—Lanen, know the truth of it, Kantri and Gedri become one, like your beloved but deeper, allow it, in the blood, in the bone—yes, that's it—Lanen, now!"

And he threw the last bright drop straight at her heart.

She screamed just once, a scream that shook her whole body, and then she lay still.

Vilkas lowered her then, oh, so gently on to the bed, where she lay still, so still—then I saw the bloodstained cotton gown rise a little. Fall. Rise again. Blessed be Shia, she was breathing.

I was shaking so that I could hardly stand. Vilkas had to take us both down, to release my poor little nimbus back to me, and—with what reluctance!—to let go the glory he had so briefly owned.

With the last of my strength I looked at Lanen with the fading remains of my Healer's sight. All the battle that had raged in her blood was gone. She looked now like any completely exhausted, perfectly healthy pregnant woman.

"Vilkas. Vil, my heart, my dear one," I said, too tired to be careful, "You did it. Wonder and glory! You found your deep power and used it, Vil! You did it. She's fine."

"Thank the Goddess for that. Mother of us All, but I'm weary," said Vilkas, and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

I heard the scream and ran to the room. I arrived just in time to see Vilkas collapse and Aral sink to her knees.

"Aral, what happened?" I demanded.

"All's well, don' worry," she murmured. "Need food, sleep—help Vil—"

I would have gone to Vilkas, but the silver-haired man was there already. He lifted Vilkas into his arms as though he weighed no more than a child. "Let the keeper of this inn bring food and drink to the finest room he has, that these two who have laboured so mightily may be cared for," he said, with the manner of a king.

Everyone else was right behind me, including Gair, so Vil and Aral were taken to the nearest bedroom and made comfortable. I knew just enough about Healers to wake them and force a little watered wine down their throats. Vilkas woke long enough to say, "Need sleep more than food, Will, bu' leave it here." He was asleep again almost before he finished speaking. We left them with food, drink and a good fire and closed the door.

When I went back to the common room Jamie was the only one there.

"I've seen Lanen," he said, relieved, and for the first time I saw that he had a good face. It had been sharpened by his fear before, but his brow was clear now and his manner very nearly gracious. "Rella and Varien are making her comfortable—changing sheets and bathing her and so on." He passed me over my drink.

"We owe you everything," he said, "you and your friends. No gold could ever repay you for what you have done."

"Gold, eh?" I said, grinning. "Well, you're right, of course, such service is beyond any amount of gold, but you could certainly try to make it up to us. You could just start piling gold on the table, we'd tell you when it was enough."

He laughed with me, a laugh full of deep relief. "Alas that I have no gold with me on this journey!" he said. "I fear we will be forced to offer silver. Will that serve?"

"I should think so," I replied, not really thinking about it. "For now, food and a place to sleep are a good start."

He smiled and said, "Aye, that of course, but we can discuss true payment in the morning. I have been riding since dawn—though to be honest, you look worse than I do."

I yawned and felt my jaw creak. "Ah, well, I am that weary, but as the other two are sound asleep I thought I would—well, master Jamie, truth is that one of us must be awake and wary and there's only me left to do it."

Jamie looked long at me. "Will, I think you're a good man," he said finally. "You know nothing of me, I know, and have no call to trust me, but I tell you true, we are keeping watch as well. Rella and I have the first shift, and believe me, we're good at it. Get some sleep. I give you my word I will watch over you and yours, and wake you should danger threaten." He held out his hand.

Well, you have to trust people at some point, don't you?

"Willem of Rowanbeck," I said, shaking his hand.

"Jameth of Arinoc."

"Well, Jameth of Arinoc, I am going to believe every word you say," I declared, "partly because I saw the way you looked at that poor girl in there and partly because I have had hell's own day and I could sleep through the end of the world," I said, standing up. "Wake me if anything untoward happens."

"I will that. Sleep well, Willem."

I rose, staggering, and stumbled to the room Gair had pointed out to me. I fell on the bed and I swear I was asleep before my head touched the pillow.

We lay huddled together on a hilly green rock in the ocean. There were a few trees and there was fresh water, but there was little else. Barely room for us all to he down, but that did not matter—the whole island was a mass of upraised wings, as those who were less tired kept the rain off those who slept. Beneath the shelter of friendly wings were heads resting on furled wings resting on nearby backs resting against other backs.

Idai and I lay curled around one another. It was very intimate, or it would have been if we were in a dry cave. As it was, we were simply huddled together against the cold, with Idai's wings over our heads to keep off the lashing rain, talking.

"Shikrar, my friend, I do not believe that we can bear Nikis so far again," said Idai wearily. "And by all accounts, the second leg of the journey is the harder."

I tried to move my aching forelegs. Even thinking about it hurt. "I fear you may be right," I replied. "I have not been this stiff and sore for many a long kell. Even with the assistance of you and Kretissh I nearly dropped her twice. But what choice have we?"

Idai looked at me. "We could leave her here, Shikrar," she said. "For a short time only, while we find somewhere to live in Kolmar, while we make our peace with the Gedri." She snorted. "While the wretch gets over the Weh sleep."

"It is hardly her fault, Idai," I began, but she was laughing.

"I know, Shikrar, but you do realise that she will be remembered among us forever as being the only soul to sleep through our return to Kolmar! Nikis the Weary, perhaps, or the Unlucky." With a groan Idai fluttered her aching wings, shaking off the water. "Though in my present mood I would be inclined to call her Nikis the Lazy."

I snorted at that. "The thought had crossed my mind as well. Especially last night, when so many of us could rest on the High Air and you and I had to keep working!"

"It might be a good idea for more of us than Nikis alone to wait here, Shikrar," she said quietly. "I have been thinking. Perhaps one or two should go first, to meet with the lords of the Gedri and speak with them." She hissed her amusement. "We are, after all, going to be something of a surprise."

Idai has always been able to make me laugh. "Ah, Iderri-sai, I thank you," I said. "It was well said, and I agree with you. It seems quite reasonable to send one ahead first. I will go."

"Either you or I, or possibly Kretissh," she replied. "Do not forget, Eldest, you are our lord while Akhor—while Varien is away."

"That was never decided, Idai," I said gendy. I knew she still felt pain speaking of Akhor, whom she had always loved. "Our King is chosen by acclamation, after all. Varien offered to give up the kingship, but still he is our King until the Kantri in lawful Council decide otherwise."

She snorted. "It was decided by everyone except you. And you are the Keeper of Souls, and—"

"Kedra is perfectly capable of performing the Kin-Summoning," I said, "and when I go to sleep on the Winds, you will be Eldest in your turn. What is a leader for, if not to lead?" I stretched my forelegs again, wincing at the cramp. "Besides, I cannot think of another way to avoid carrying Nikis for three more days."