Changing Fate [Fate series] (5 page)

Briam looked at her as if she were crazy. “But you can't turn yourself into a sword. A sword isn't an animal. A sword isn't even alive. How can you turn back if you're not alive? Besides, if I can't hold you on my arm when you're an eagle, how do you expect me to fight with you if you turn into a sword? You'd be much too heavy."

"This isn't one of my normal changes,” Akila explained. “It's a spell, and the usual limitations about form and size and weight don't apply. The potion I made will let me turn into a sword.” She pointed to the cauldron, which had been sitting in her room since the day she made the potion. It seemed a lifetime ago.
If I made the potion right and I do the spell right, it should work
, she thought grimly. “And after you get out of here, you will take me to the ocean and put me in the water, and that will turn me back."

"The ocean's a long way away.” Briam sounded overwhelmed.

"I know.”
Sweet Lady of Life, what am I doing?

"All right.” Briam had come to terms with it. He trusted her. He always trusted her, and sometimes the burden was almost unendurable. “What do I do?"

"I'll have Galin pack your clothes and some food for the journey. You go to bed and sleep well, all night. When you get up in the morning, come here. You should find a sword, the cauldron, and this parchment.” She pulled the scrap of parchment on which she had copied the words of the changing spell out of her chest and showed it to him. “Burn the parchment, empty any potion left in the cauldron out the window, and take the sword. Have your horse saddled and loaded, and get one of the men-at-arms to hold him during the fight. Kill Stefan. Get on your horse and go to the river, then down river to the ocean. When you get there, put the sword in the ocean.” She paused for a few seconds to give the instructions time to sink in. “What will you do?"

"Burn parchment, empty cauldron, take sword, get horse, kill Stefan, put sword in ocean."

She fought back tears and gave him a hug. “Good night, Briam. Sleep well."

"Don't worry, Akila, I'll take good care of you. Good night.” He returned her hug and left.

Akila went to find Galin and tell him what she needed him to do. Galin looked troubled.

"I've already packed provisions for Lord Briam, and I can have Gris saddled for him in the morning. But I think you and I had better go talk with Marfa."

Akila nodded wearily, and they went to Marfa's room, dismissed the maid who was sitting with her, and closed the door.

"I told you the Sky Father would call a new priest,” was Marfa's first comment.

Akila looked at her in horror. “You mean Lord Ranulf?"

"No. He is only the God's instrument."

Akila wondered if Marfa really knew what was going on. “Marfa, our father is dead, and they're trying to kill Briam! I can't just sit by and let that happen."

"Actually,” Marfa said with what Akila considered a revolting lack of feeling, “you can."

"No I can't!"

"Calm down, Akila,” Galin intervened, “and do lower your voice. This door is
not
soundproof. I believe that what Marfa is trying to say is that your first duty is to the Gods. And I rather doubt that Stefan is going to kill Briam. Stefan underestimates him to a degree that will almost certainly prove fatal."

"Akila,” Marfa said quietly, “I never felt it necessary to tell you this before, but your father killed my nephew when he took this place. But I was sworn to the Mother, so I pretended to be the housekeeper and remained to serve Her. The people here have been loyal to the priesthood for centuries, even when the current lord pays no heed to it. And the Gods protect their own. You are perfectly safe. And as Galin says, Briam will no doubt defeat Stefan and go free."

"Go free where to do what?” Akila shot back. “You both know that Briam can't possibly look after himself. I'll have to go with him to take care of him."

Both Galin and Marfa looked at her in horror. “You can't.” they said in unison.

"I can, and I will—unless, of course, you think the Lady will strike me dead."

Marfa looked troubled. “I'm not sure what will happen to you if you leave. I suspect that the Lady will simply call you back. But I don't at all like the idea of the temple being short two priests, however temporarily."

Akila thought about that. They had not done the evening ritual in days; it was possible to skip the Sky Father's part of the ritual, or the Fire or Water portions, but without a priestess of the Earth Mother the ritual could not be started at all. And Marfa's broken leg had coincided with the invasion, but surely that was coincidence. The army had to have been on its way here well before Marfa's injury. “None of us knows what will happen to the temple with me gone,” she said aloud, “but everyone knows what Briam is like without me. I
have
to go with him."

Marfa sighed and lay back against her pillow, wincing visibly. “I doubt that the gods will permit you to leave. Certainly Lord Ranulf doesn't plan to let you go, and he seems quite capable."

"Well, if he manages to stop me, I guess we can consider it the will of the Gods,” Akila said lightly. “You need more pain medication, Marfa; I'll have one of the maids bring you some.”
And I have work to do
. She bent and kissed Marfa lightly on the cheek, then turned to hug Galin, surprised to find tears starting in her eyes. She blinked furiously in an unsuccessful attempt to control them. “If things go wrong tomorrow ... if anything happens to me ... I want you both to know that I love you."

Galin put his arms around her sobbing body. “Akila, you're worn out. Go to bed, child; I'll make sure Marfa gets her medicine."

"Thank you,” Akila sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I don't know what's wrong with me; I don't normally cry."

"You've had a lot of shocks lately,” Marfa said gently. “Go to bed, dear; things will look better in the morning."

"And remember, Akila,” Galin added as she turned to leave, “we love you, too."

For some reason that made Akila start crying again, and she fled hastily to her room, taking care that no one saw her face as she went.
It would be bad for morale if anyone saw me crying
.

She closed her bedroom door, remembering not to bolt it. Briam would need to get in tomorrow morning. Carefully she spread the parchment on the table and read the spell. The words danced in front of her eyes. She couldn't concentrate; it didn't make any sense.
But it has to make sense; I have to do this spell!

Why do you have to do this?
a voice in her head asked.
I don't want to be a sword!

Do you want Briam killed?
she asked her other self.

Not particularly. But why do I have to be the sword? Why can't he use one from the armory?

Because as a sword I can help him fight. I'll be right in his hand and can link with him. He may be able to fight as well as he dances, but he's not a killer—he doesn't even like to hunt! Besides, didn't you hear him? He won't leave the castle without me. And the way Lord Ranulf's acting, I don't think I can turn into a bird and fly to meet him.

You could put a sword here for him and hide someplace. Did it ever occur to you that he just might be able to defeat Stefan on his own? Briam is pretty good with a sword—he does have some ability. Just because he's your ‘baby brother’ doesn't mean that he's totally helpless. You're just in the habit of doing everything for him.

You may have a point. But I really don't think this is the situation in which to test Briam's abilities any more than absolutely necessary. And even if Briam can defeat Stefan on his own, you know as well as I do that he can't go into exile without someone to take care of him. And I don't see anyone else offering to do it.

Who's going to look after Briam if you're a sword? Are you still going to be able to mind-speak with him? You don't know much about this spell, if you're a sword, you may be absolutely helpless. How do you know Briam isn't going to lose you someplace? And what if he loses the fight even with you helping him?

Then I'll be a sword forever—assuming, that is, that I ever manage to turn myself into a sword in the first place, with you arguing with me!

Something moved on the window ledge, cutting off the internal dialogue. Akila froze in horror as a spider a full fathom across began to crawl over the sill. Fortunately her paralysis lasted only a second, then she grabbed a torch out its wall holder and used the flame to stop the creature's advance.

It froze on the windowsill, flickered in the firelight, and reformed into human shape. Lord Ranulf!

Akila willed herself to stand tall and hold the torch steady, even though she felt as though icy water were running all around her body. While she had suspected that maybe, somewhere in the world, there were other shapechangers, she had never been sure that she wasn't the only one in existence—and she had certainly never expected to meet another one. She was horribly afraid that she was going to faint, and she knew she couldn't afford to do that.

For once, the little voice in her mind came to her rescue.
So that's how he knew you were a changer
, it said.
He's one too. He must have been the eagle this morning
.

Akila felt her mind start functioning again.
And he probably knows that real eagles don't like being touched
.

"Lady Akila.” He bowed courteously, apparently quite untroubled by the fact that he was naked.

"Lord Ranulf.” Akila glared at him. “What you are doing in my room?"

His eyes inspected the room, and Akila took another step toward him, blocking his view of the parchment with the spell as she did so. There was no way to hide the potion; if he stepped from the ledge he'd land in it. He did not, however, seem inclined to get any closer to the torch she held. His eyes moved from it to her face, and he chuckled. “I thought we needed to speak privately, my Lady.” There was a peculiar caress in his voice. “And may I say that you are even lovelier as a lady than as an eagle?"

"Since I am not an eagle, I fail to see any point in this conversation.” Akila concentrated on standing straight, keeping her chin up, and playing the great lady for all she was worth. It probably wouldn't fool him, but she couldn't think of anything else to do at the moment.

"You make a beautiful eagle, and no doubt to most people you look quite convincing. But a changer is heavier than a true eagle and needs more wing and less body in order to fly, which means that anyone who knows what he's looking for can tell the difference."

So that's how he knew, Akila thought. But I still have no intention of admitting it. Aloud she said, “I really must request that you leave immediately. For me to entertain a strange man unchaperoned would be unseemly—even were you properly dressed. Are you not cold?"

He ignored the sarcasm. “And you therefore use fire as a chaperon? How considerate of you. Surely no such formality is necessary between a betrothed couple?” His face still reflected amusement, but he was keeping a wary eye on the flames.

"I would remind you, Lord"—I am
not
going to call this man
my
lord—"that I have not agreed to this betrothal. Furthermore, with the current unsettled state of the castle, I do not feel inclined to entertain. So just turn yourself back into a spider and crawl right back down that cliff!” She took a step toward him, holding the torch before her.

Lord Ranulf slid unselfconsciously into a sitting position on the windowsill, making it clear that he had no immediate plans to leave. “But you will agree to the betrothal,” he replied confidently. “After all, who else are you likely to find who will understand you so well? And you're exactly what I want for a wife—just think of the children we'll have."

Akila grimaced. “The very thought gives me morning sickness,” she snapped.

Lord Ranulf chuckled, apparently genuinely amused.

Curiosity briefly overcame Akila. “Don't you have any children yet?"

"One son, nine years old. But he's not a true changer."

"Did his mother die when he was born? Did yours?” All her life Akila had believed that her mother had died because Akila was a changer. This might be her one chance to find out if bearing a changer child was inevitably fatal.

Lord Ranulf looked surprised. “No, why should they have? My mother is dead now, but she lived a normal life span. And Rias's mother is alive and well."

"Then you already have a wife—"

"No.” Lord Ranulf gave a decisive shake of his head. “Rias's mother and I are not married. I am quite free to marry, and I am sure that you and I will deal splendidly together. You are everything I could possibly want, everything I've dreamed of and searched for all my life.” He smiled at her, and Akila fought the sense of sudden kinship she felt with him. “Haven't you ever dreamed of finding someone like yourself—someone who would understand you, someone from whom you would not have to hide most of the things that make you the person you are."

Akila shook her head defiantly. “I'm a twin, remember. I have a brother who knows exactly who and what I am."

"Does he really?” Lord Ranulf asked. “Think about it.” He rose to his feet in one smooth movement, his head almost brushing the top of the window. “Until tomorrow, my lady wife.” He shimmered again, and the spider crawled over the ledge and down the castle wall.

Akila hastily shoved the torch back into the wall holder and bolted the wooden shutters of the window behind him—at least he seemed to have the same size and weight limitations she did—then leaned against them and shook.

Well
, she asked her inner voice,
which would you rather be—a sword or womb to birth were-spiders?

A sword, and pray he doesn't figure it out.

He shouldn't; there probably aren't five people alive who have even heard of the spell. And the potion isn't easy to make.

This time the spell made sense. She took off her clothes, folded them neatly, and put them away in her chest, checking it carefully to be sure she hadn't left any more parchments in it. When she was sure that her chest contained nothing but clothes, she made her bed neatly and checked the room for anything she didn't want to fall into the wrong hands.