The Black Beast (30 page)

“So how could you be so petty as to sulk about a little thing like an arm?” Trevyn put in dryly.

“An arm and a true love.” Frain tried to match Trevyn's tone and his smile, but could not. “I went away,” he added.

“To find Ogygia and lay your case before the goddess.”

“No, that came later. First I went to the lake to find Shamarra. But everything had changed. The swan had gone black and was as crippled as I, and the water itself was fearsome. When I looked in I saw—never mind.” His eyes shifted and he hastened on. “There was a woman there, a sort of queenly goddess, and she told me that the wrath of Adalis was on Shamarra because of her overweening. She had been transformed into a night bird and sent to wander the wind.”

Trevyn looked both startled and intense. “What did you say is the name of your goddess?”

“There are many names. Every woman's name is a name of the goddess. There is Eala the swan and the white horse Epona, and Morrghu the raven of war, and Vieyra the hell hag, and Suevi, Rae, Mela—dozens of others. But the mother of Vale is Adalis.”

“I thought you said that. I heard, but I could not believe my ears.” Trevyn put a palm to his hurt brow with a sigh. “Frain, if you can say that most holy name so offhandedly without the castle stones flying from their places and raining destruction on your head, truly you must be of immortal kind.”

“Really?” Frain said that softly, but his excitement grew as he talked, he leaned forward and his voice rose. “You mean you call her by that same name, and she is here, she can respond to you? Do you really mean that?”

“She is here as much as anywhere,” Trevyn said with some small wonder, for the goddess makes every land her own.

“Why, then,” Frain breathed, “this must be Ogygia after all.”

“Perhaps. If you say so. I am surprised that it has taken you so long to find it.”

“Have you ever tried to find a legendary land?” Frain asked, a hint of vexation in his steady voice. “I never knew there were so many lands that lay beyond Vale. I trudged across them, places and places of them, and no one had ever heard of Ogygia, all they could do was point me toward this one and that one who might know, and I asked them all to no avail. Follow the setting sun, they said, and find the ocean. And when I found it at last, I walked the length of that vast shoreline looking for Ogygia or news of Ogygia: And I had never seen an immensity like that of the sea.” Frain's voice was tinged with awe and terror. “I knew when I saw it that it was as the woman by the lake had said, that I could no sooner reach Ogygia than the crippled swan. But I had to try.”

Trevyn sighed in vexation of his own. He had indeed been to legendary lands, and he badly wanted to explain to Frain the ways of the All-Mother. But he knew that Frain had to find her on his own.

“There is an island far, far west of here,” he said finally, “where the elves have made their home, the ancient folk. There I spoke with the goddess once on her mountain of the moon. The name of that island is Elwestrand. Wild swans fly there. But you cannot go there unless she sends one of her swimming ships for you.”

Frain's face sagged. “Why, it sounds as if I must go there nevertheless,” he whispered.

“I think not. But we will speak to her soon and see what she has to say to you.”

“Where? How?” Frain rose to his feet in his excitement, and Trevyn could not help smiling.

“As soon as the weather has broken and you are strong. In a suitable place. Patience!”

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About the Author

Nancy Springer has passed the fifty-book milestone with novels for adults, young adults, and children, in genres including mythic fantasy, contemporary fiction, magic realism, horror, and mystery—although she did not realize she wrote mystery until she won the Edgar Award from the Mystery Writers of America two years in succession. Born in Montclair, New Jersey, Springer moved with her family to Gettysburg, of Civil War fame, when she was thirteen. She spent the next forty-six years in Pennsylvania, raising two children (Jonathan and Nora), writing, horseback riding, fishing, and bird-watching. In 2007 she surprised her friends and herself by moving with her second husband to an isolated area of the Florida Panhandle where the bird-watching is spectacular, and where, when fishing, she occasionally catches an alligator.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1982 by Nancy Springer

Cover design by Drew Padrutt

ISBN: 978-1-4976-1288-4

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