Wandering Lark (39 page)

“Sounds like a barbaric profession.”

“We have to do it, according to the Temple, to keep the heretics from bringing back the days of darkness,” she said. “It was the heretics who brought destruction on this world. Heretics who gave rise to the dark powers and let the Shadow Lords rule.”

“Shadow Lords,” he said. “Then your people know of the Shadow Lords too?”

“Of course,” she said. “They brought the Darkening on the land. They made the dragons fight, and in the end, the White Dragon won, but then she went away. Instead of helping the world to heal, she went away and left us to remake our own lives.”

He looked thoughtful. “In my land, we believe the Old Ones were responsible for part of the Great Cataclysm. But they fought against the Shadow Lords. And then they just went away...sort of like your dragon.”

Talena nodded. “Then these Old Ones were no better than the dragon,” she said.

“I wouldn’t say that entirely,” Alaric said. “You see, we believe that mageborn are descended from the Old Ones. That they bred themselves into the bloodlines of mortalborn folk in order to keep the magic alive.”

“And we believe that heretics are descended from the Great Dragons,” she said. “And that is why magic is forbidden. By all rights, I should take you back to the Temple to be purged of your power and burned alive.”

As she spoke, she saw the yellow horse turn towards her, his eyes narrowing in a menacing manner.

“But I have a feeling that your horse would not let me,” she said.

Alaric smiled. “I have a feeling you’re right,” he said.

“Then we are agreed,” she said. “We will go to Taneslaw as you wish, and then we will see.”

“See what?” he asked with a frown.

“If the stories of monsters and giant men and trow armies are true.”

He nodded. She picked up her blankets and wrapped them around her and lay down.

Sleep seemed the logical thing now.

Tomorrow, she could worry about what to do next.

“I do not trust her,”
Ronan said as Alaric watched Talena close her eyes.

That makes two of us,
Alaric agreed.

“We should leave when she is asleep,”
Ronan said.

No,

“What?
Are you mad?
She will only get in the way.”

She had not done so yet.

“That shows how little you know!
At that farm last night, she attacked you.”

What?

“How do you think you got that bruise on your chest.
She attacked you while you were sleeping.
She was going to tie you up and take you back to her Temple then.
I had to take over and defend you against her.”

But why would she do that?
Alaric thought.

“Because you are worth much more to her temple alive than you are dead,”
Ronan said.

But the temple didn’t believe I was a heretic,
Alaric said.
They let me go.

“And most likely sent her to follow,”
Ronan said.
“To gain your trust. Which she had done quite well, I might add. Now all she needs is proof of what you really are, and you have given her that.”

But she had no proof at the farm,
Alaric thought.
I did nothing to reveal myself to her. So why would she attack me then?

“You saw the medallion,”
Ronan said.
“She used it on you that evening when you were in the barn. When you scried her, she felt it, and she knew then that you had lied to the Temple and to her.”

None of this makes any sense, Ronan. If she knew then that I was a heretic—if the Temple sent her to follow me—why would she attack me? And what does she think I will lead her to?

“The Elder,”
Ronan said.
“That is what the temple really wants. To find the elder and give them a reason to declare the king of Taneslaw a true heretic, and a reason to invade his land. They will fight on the borders, but only to keep the Tannish warlords in their own lands. But what they want is to rule Taneslaw as well. To control the Center of All Things. To do that, they must find the Elder.”

Alaric shook his head and looked at Talena.

I think you’re wrong about her, Ronan,
he thought.

“I would not close my eyes without ordering Vagner to keep watch,”
Ronan said.

Vagner will keep watch.

Though as Alaric glanced at the demon and the mare, he was starting to wonder if Vagner didn’t have other matters on his mind.

Just don’t get her pregnant, Vagner,
he thought.
I doubt even Talena would understand why her mare is birthing a demonic horse.

You take all my fun away,
Vagner thought back.

Alaric shook his head and grabbed his own blankets. He would catch some sleep himself while Talena was asleep...in case Ronan was right about her.

But he was having a hard time believing it.

Blue Oak had never been a more
welcome sight to Etienne than it was now when she opened her spell gate to let them out on the main road at the forest’s edge. The massive oak tree looked beautiful in its autumn coat. Curls of smoke rose from various points. She could smell hints of peat and dead wood on the wind, mixed with the odor of acorn mast bread.

Oh, I have not had acorn mast bread since I left my home,
she thought. That would be the first thing she would do; purchase a large loaf of fresh acorn mast bread and share it with Wendon and Shona. She had tried only once to make it herself when she moved to Dun Gealach to study magic, but the acorns there were not as tasty in her opinion. The acorns of Blue Oak were famous throughout Ross-Mhor for their rich flavor. Ard-Taebh, for all its wonders, had none to equal it.

“That tree’s on fire!” Wendon blurted and pointed.

“No,” Etienne assured him. “Those are but the smoke of the hearth fires.”

“Isn’t that sort of dangerous?” Wendon asked. “Having fires in trees?”

“The tree is green and living, and resistant to flames,” she said and smiled. “And those hearths are cut from stone that has been blessed by mageborn who set special spells on it so that it holds the fire at a safe level. And besides, there are rules about how one builds a fire that are strictly managed by all. Had we not developed ways to do so, these trees would never have allowed us to live in their branches...”

Wendon and Shona traded looks. “I told you that the trees felt alive,” he said.

Shona laughed.

They continued up the road. Etienne thought Wendon was going to fall on his back, the way he kept looking up.

“This is marvelous!” he said. “This tree must be at least half a league in height! Look how the top of it disappears into the clouds!”

“No, not quite,” she said. “More likely because of the time of the year, the mist from the mountains to the north is growing thicker. Though I have heard it said that in the old days when the King of Ross-Mhor claimed the highest branches for his palace, he had a problem in winter with the clouds descending on his palace and making it impossible for one to find ones way through the corridors without getting lost.”

Wendon’s eyebrows rose in wonder. “Does the King not have his palace there now?”

“Well, the tree had grown quite a lot since the ancient days. His palace is now in the heartwood.”

“Inside the tree?” Shona said. “How does he get out?”

Etienne laughed. “My people learned ways to keep the boles of the trees from closing over their homes without harming the tree itself. Since we are going to be here a while, I will gladly take you around and show you some of the wonders of my land.”  

“This will be great,” Wendon said. “I’ll be the envy of every mage student at Dun Gealach when I get back and tell them what all I have seen.”

His words floundered just a bit, and Etienne could see the realization in his eyes. Poor Wendon, she thought. I hope we will indeed be allowed to go back so you can share what you have seen with others.

But for now, this was a safe haven far out of the reach of the High Mage. Turlough had neither friends nor power here. For that, Etienne was grateful.

“Come on,” she said and picked up her pace. The others sped up to match her march. “If we are fortunate, we shall not have to wait long for a platform ride.”

“Platform ride?” Wendon said.

“Surely, you don’t want to spend half a day hiking up the stairs,” she said. “I’m not sure Shona is up to it.”

“The platform ride sounds wonderful,” Wendon agreed. “Is it...safe?”

“Of course, but if you’re worried, we could go by basket,” Etienne added, “but those are more costly.”

“Platform,” Wendon agreed.

Indeed, as they drew closer to the tree, they could see that more than one platform dangled on ropes, as well as a number of enclosed baskets. The roots of Blue Oak were astonishingly large, some taller than small huts. Indeed, some of them had been cultivated to cover the guards quarters on the ground while others formed barrier walls that people could enter and leave just like the gates of a ground city. Arched doorways led into places between the roots where the platforms and baskets came down. One of the platforms was descending just as they arrived. Etienne hurried up to join the line of people waiting. At the head of it, a small man was holding out his hand and gesturing to the people in the line.

“Five coppers a head,” he called. “This way please. Single file.”

Etienne had dug out fifteen copper sgillinns by the time she reached the opening. The little man took her money and gave it careful scrutiny. “Foreign metal,” he said, his eyes going wide.

“Not enough for three?” Etienne asked, looking puzzled.

“Oh, no, it’s too much,” he said and counted back ten of her sgillinns. “Not been here in a while, have ye?”

Etienne shook her head.

“New issue,” he said. “To save metal, they make coppers by plating them around wood. There’s enough metal there for three rides each.”

“Oh,” she said. “Nothing of this was said when I was in Greenwillow.”

The little man snorted. “What do the folk of the lesser trees know,” he said. “Now move along. Can’t keep the platform waiting.”

Etienne did move along, briskly, followed by Shona and Wendon. They stepped onto a plank and climbed onto the platform where men and women wearing sashes were directing passengers according to size. Wendon was stopped and directed towards the middle by one of the guides.

“Can we not stay with him?” Etienne asked.

The guide who was directing her towards another row of benches looked puzzled. “It means you will be in the middle with the larger folk,” she said.

“I don’t mind,” Etienne said. “I’ve never been fond of the edge...”

The guide nodded knowingly and allowed Etienne and Shona to follow Wendon’s path.

They sat down on the benches as the platform continued to fill with people. Very few carried more than a few parcels. She imagined that livestock and goods were taken on a separate platform these days. Finally, the little man stopped allowing folk through. “All full,” he shouted. “Step back, please.”

The platform lurched quite suddenly, and the sensation of her stomach freefalling to her knees made Etienne gasp in surprise. She grabbed Shona’s hand and saw Wendon seize the edge of his bench between his knees, his eyes going round. The platform shifted a little, swaying like a swing before it gained a little momentum and rose more steadily towards the tree branches above. She had forgotten what it felt like to ride the platforms, but living in one of the smaller trees, it was just as easy to climb to the branches by way of the stairs. This ride never ceased to make her a little queasy.