Bradley, Marion Zimmer - SSC 03 (34 page)

           
"You must think me an awful
fool, Aristarchus, a fool, and weak."

 
          
The
troll shook his head. "I
think,
when I can
finally believe I'm free . . ."He looked at Wess. "Thank you."

 
          
They
sat beside the stream to rest and talk.

 
          
"It's
possible that we aren't even being followed," Quartz said.

 
          
"We
watched the city, till you entered the forest," Aerie said. "We saw
no one else on the river road."

 
          
"Then
they might not have realized anyone but another flyer helped Satan escape. If
no one saw us fell the tent
—
"

 
          
Wess
reached into the stream and splashed her face, cupped her hand in the water,
and lifted it to her lips. The first rays of direct sunlight pierced the
branches and entered the clearing.

 
          
Her
hand was still bloody. The blood was mixing with the water. She choked and
spat, lurched to her feet, and bolted. A few paces away she fell to her knees •
and retched violently.

 
          
There
was nothing in her stomach but bile. She crawled to the stream and scrubbed her
hands, then her face, with sand and water. She stood up again. Her friends were
staring at her, shocked.

 
          
"There
was someone," she said. "Bauchle Meyne. But I killed him."

 
          
"Ah,"
Quartz said.

 
          
"You've
given me another gift," Satan said. "Now I don't have to go back and kill
him myself."

 
          
"Shut
up, Satan, she's never killed anyone before."

 
          
"Nor
have I. But I would have ripped out his throat if just once he'd left the
chains slack enough for me to reach him!"

 
          
Wess
wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ease the ache in her ribs. Suddenly
Quartz was beside her.

 
          
"You're
hurt
—
why didn't you tell
me?"

           
Wess shook her head, unable to
answer. And then she fainted.

 
          
She
woke up at midafternoon, lying in the shade of a tall tree in a circle of her friends.
The horses grazed nearby, and Aristarchus sat on a stone beside the stream,
combing the tangles from his fur. Wess got up and went to sit beside him.

 
          
"Did
you call my name?"

 
          
"No,"
he said.

 
          
"I
thought I heard
—
" She shrugged.
"Never mind."

 
          
"How
are you feeling?"

 
          
"Better."
Her ribs were bandaged tight. "Quartz is a good healer."

 
          
"No
one is following. Aerie looked, a little while ago."

 
          
"That's
good. May I comb your back for you?"

 
          
"That
would be a great kindness."

 
          
In
silence, she combed him, but she was paying very little attention. The third
time the comb caught on a knot, Aristarchus protested quietly.

 
          
"Sister,
please, that fur you're plucking is attached to my skin."

 
          
"Oh,
Aristarchus, I'm sorry. ..."

 
          
"What's
wrong?"

 
          
"I
don't know," she said. "I feel
—
I
want
—
I. ..." She handed him
the comb and stood. "I'm going to walk up the trail a little way. I won't
be gone long."

 
          
In
the silence of the forest she felt easier, but there was something pulling her,
something calling to her that she could not hear.

 
          
And
then she did hear something, a rustling of leaves. She faded back off the
trail, hiding herself, and waited.

 
          
Lythande
walked slowly, tiredly, along the trail. Wess was so surprised that she did not
speak as the wizard passed her, but a few paces on, Lythande stopped and looked
around, frowning.

           
"Westerly?"

 
          
Wess
stepped into sight. "How did you know I was there?"

 
          
"I
felt you near. . . . How did you find me?"

 
          
"I
thought I heard someone call me. Was that a spell?"

 
          
"No.
Just a hope."
•

 
          
"You
look so tired, Lythande."

 
          
Lythande
nodded. "I received a challenge. I answered it."

 
          
"And
you won
—
"

 
          
"Yes."
Lythande smiled bitterly. "I still walk the earth and wait for the days of
Chaos. If that is winning, then I won."

 
          
"Come
back to camp and rest and eat with us."

 
          
"Thank
you, little sister. I will rest with you. But your friend
—
you found him?"

 
          
"Yes.
He's free."

 
          
"You
all escaped unhurt?"

 
          
Wess
shrugged, and was immediately sorry for it. "I did crack my ribs this
time." She did not want to talk about the deeper hurts.

 
          
"And
now
—
are you going home?"

 
          
"Yes."

 
          
Lythande
smiled. "I might have known you would find the
Forgotten
Pass.
"

 
          
They
walked together back toward camp. A little scared by her own presumption, Wess
reached out and took the wizard's hand in hers. Lythande did not draw away, but
squeezed her fingers gently.

 
          
"Westerly
—
" Lythande looked at her straight on, and Wess
stopped. "
Westerly
, would you go back to
Sanctuary?"

 
          
Stunned
and horrified, Wess said, "Why?"

 
          
"It
isn't as bad as it seems at first. You could learn many things. ..."

 
          
"About
being a wizard?"

           
Lythande hesitated. "It would
be difficult, but
—
it might be possible. It is
true that your talents should not be wasted."

 
          
"You
don't understand," Wess said. "I don't want to be a wizard. I
wouldn't go back to Sanctuary if that were the reason."

 
          
Lythande
said, finally, "That isn't the only reason."

 
          
Wess
took Lythande's hand between her own, drew it to her lips, and kissed the palm.
Lythande reached up and caressed Wess's cheek. Wess shivered at the touch.

 
          
"Lythande,
I can't go back to Sanctuary. You would be the only reason I was there
—
and it would change me. It
did
change me. I don't
know if I can go back to being the person I was before I came here, but I'm
going to try. Most of what I did learn there I would rather never have known.
You must understand me!"

 
          
"Yes,"
Lythande said. "It was not fair of me to ask."

 
          
"It
isn't that I wouldn't love you," Wess said, and Lythande looked at her
sharply. Wess took as deep a breath as she could, and continued. "But what
I feel for you would change, too, as I changed. It wouldn't be love anymore. It
would be ... need, and demand, and envy."

 
          
Lythande
sat on a tree
root,
shoulders slumped, and stared at
the ground. Wess knelt beside her and smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

 
          
"Lythande.
..."

 
          
"Yes,
little sister," the magician whispered, as if she were too tired to speak
aloud.

 
          
"You
must have important work here." How could she bear it otherwise? Wess
thought. She is going to laugh at you for what you ask her, and explain how
foolish it is, and how impossible. "And Kaimas, my home . . . you would
find it dull
—
" She stopped, surprised
at herself for her hesitation and her fear. "You come with me,
Lythande," she said abruptly. "You come home with me."

           
Lythande stared at her, her
expression unreadable. "Did you mean what you said
—
"

 
          
"It's
so beautiful, Lythande.
And peaceful.
You've met half
my family already. You'd like the rest of them, too! You said you had things to
learn from us."

 
          
"
—
about loving me?"

 
          
Wess
caught her breath. She leaned forward and kissed Lythande quickly, then, a
second time, slowly, as she had wanted to since the moment she saw her.

 
          
She
drew back a little.

 
          
"Yes,"
she said. "Sanctuary made me lie, but I'm not in Sanctuary now. With any
luck I'll never see it again, and never have to lie anymore."

 
          
"If
I had to go
—
"

 
          
Wess
grinned. "I might try to persuade you to stay." She touched
Lythande's hair. "But I wouldn't try to hold you. As long as you wanted to
stay, and whenever you wanted to come back, you'd have a place in
Kaimas."

 
          
"It
isn't your resolve I doubt, little sister,
It's
my
own.
And my own strength.
I think I would not want to
leave your home, once I'd been there for a while."

 
          
"I
can't see the future," Wess said. Then she laughed at herself, for what
she was saying to a wizard. "Perhaps you can."

 
          
Lythande
made no reply.

 
          
"All
I know," Wess said, "is that anything anyone does might cause pain.
To oneself, to a friend.
But you cannot do
nothing
." She stood up. "Come. Come sleep, with me
and my friends. And then we'll go home."

 
          
Lythande
stood up too. "There's so much you don't know about me, little sister. So
much of it could hurt you."

 
          
Wess
closed her eyes, wishing, like a child at twilight seeking out a star. She
opened her eyes again.

 
         
Lythande
smiled. "I will come with you.
If only for a
while."

 
          
They
walked together, hand in hand, to join the others.

 
          
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LYTHANDE
WAS PLEDGED BY SWORD AND SPELL TO FOREVER FIGHT THE FORCES OF CHAOS.
..

 
          
A
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And Lythande's secret was perhaps the most
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to war against spell beast, sorcerer, thief, swordsman, and the magic of the
gods themselves....