Winds of Change (35 page)

“I think so,” she said, nodding to herself. “Yes, I think so. Was that the point?”

:It was. Four days ago if I had asked that question, you would have said you couldn‘t do without me. Now you know that you can.:
Need’s mind-voice conveyed a hint of pride. Nyara smiled a little, despite the remains of her anger.

Need chuckled at her smile.
:lt wouldn‘t be
easy
for you to do without me, and any number of creatures could take you in a heartbeat, but I would give you even odds of being able to hide and stay hidden if you chose that route over fighting. You were coming to depend on me too much, and I am not invincible, dear. I can be hurt, or even destroyed. Your father could have done it, if he‘d known how. Any of the Tayledras Adepts could. You needed to know you could survive if I was not here.:

Nyara considered that for a moment and let her anger cool. Another of Need’s ongoing lessons - anger used to make her incoherent; now, once it was under control, it made her think with a little more focus. That
could
be a problem, too; being too focused meant that you could miss something, but it was better than being paralyzed and unable to think at all.

“What about what you’ve been doing to fix what Father did to me?” she asked. “I can’t do
that.
And it isn’t finished - ”

:It may never be finished,:
Need told her frankly.
:It could take a Healing Adept - which I am not - years to change all the things that were done to you. But you
are
doing some of that for yourself. If you didn‘t recognize the problems and want the changes, if you weren‘t consciously helping me, there wouldn’t be any changes. I can’t work against resistance, my dear.:

“Oh.” Nyara couldn’t think of anything else to say.

:There’s something else I want you to consider.:

A breath of chill breeze came in the window. Nyara shivered and moved away from it, returning to the warmth of her furs. She wrapped up in them, cuddling down into their warmth, and let her eyes readjust to the darkness of her tower room. “What?” she asked, expecting something more along the same theme - perhaps something about using her own magic more effectively.

:What do
you
want?:
asked the voice in her mind.

The question took her completely by surprise. “Wh-what do you mean by that?” she stammered.

:It’s a question no one has ever asked you before - and one that you were never in a position to decide, anyway,:
Need said patiently.
:But you are out here in the wilderness. No one knows where you are yet. You are in a position to decide
exactly
what is going to happen to your life because there’s no one here to affect you, to do things you don’t expect and haven’t planned for. So what do you want? Assume all the power in the world
-
because, my dear, you have many powerful people who consider you a friend worthy of helping, and they might just do that if you came to them and asked it of them.:
The sword’s voice warmed.
:You are quite worthy of being helped, child, though I don’t want you to come to depend on it.:

What
did
she want? To be left alone was the first thing that sprang to her mind -

To be left alone . . . there were no complications out here. Nothing to get in the way of simply living. No emotional pain - that is, when Need wasn’t deserting her! This was the first time in her life that she had been in a position of control over her own actions and reactions. There was something very attractive about that.

But - no. It was lonely out here. She was often too busy to think about the isolation, but in the dark of the night, sometimes, she felt lonely enough that she had to fight back tears. At first, she had been too busy to think about it, and then Need had been enough company, but now she wished there was someone else to talk to, now and again. Someone who wasn’t a teacher, who was just a friend.

Or ... maybe a little more than a friend? The frequent urges of her body had not gone away, they had simply become less compulsory, and more under her own control.

But if she didn’t want to be left alone, that meant rejoining some portion of the outside world. North meant other Birdkin Clans, and she had been warned they were far less tolerant of Changechildren. South was Dhorisha. There were only two real directions for her, east to the
real
“outside” world, or west, back to the k’Sheyna Vale.

There were problems with both directions. Should she leave the area entirely, and try to find someplace in the east where she could go?

But then what could she do? She would have to find some way to support herself. She had to eat - there was little or no hunting in lands that were farmed. She would have to have clothing, and a place to live, and in civilized lands, one couldn’t wear rough-tanned furs or live in a cave. Even assuming there were caves about to live in.

“I could go to the lands where the Outsiders came from. When I am there, I can track and hunt,” she said aloud. “I could hire out as a hunter or a guide ... or maybe as some kind of protector.”

Need indicated tentative agreement.
:True, but what are the drawbacks of running off like that, into places you know nothing about and where you have no friends? Remember, out there, no one has ever seen anything quite like you. They might not treat you well, they might greet you with fear or hatred, and you would be one against many if it came to hostility.:

There was another option - one in which her alien appearance might be of some use. “I could . . . hire out as a bed-partner.” There. She didn’t like the idea, but it was a viable one. It was one thing she was well-trained in. Skif had certainly been pleased.

Again, Need indicated tentative agreement, but with reservations.
:You could do that, and you would probably do very well. But is that what you
want?
I
thought that was the point of this discussion.:

She sighed. “No, it isn’t what I want. It would be a choice, but not a good one. I suppose - if I had to, it would be better than starving. But I don’t have to go east, do I?” If she didn’t go east - Then she went west. Back to k’Sheyna. Back to where the Outland strangers were. . . .

No point in avoiding it. The one person in the whole world that she thought of with longing was that stranger. The young man called Skif - who was with k’Sheyna. And the only Hawkbrothers in the world who
might
look upon her with a certain amount of kindness were the k’Sheyna. She had helped them, after all-fought against her father’s controls.
She
was the reason they had known that one of their own was Falconsbane’s slave. In a sense, they did owe her a debt. . . .

In more than a sense, so did Skif. She had saved his life at the risk of her own.

And they had shared so much in such a relatively short period of time, enough that the intensity of her feelings had frightened her. That was more than half the reason why she had run away from him. She did not want him near her while her father’s directives still ruled her so closely.

Not while she wanted him so very badly. . . .

:I rather thought so,:
Need said, following her thoughts, with a feeling of wry humor.
:I rather thought that your Skif would be in the equation somewhere.:

“Is there anything wrong with that?” she asked defensively, a little apprehensive that Need would not approve. After all, when she had been a woman, she had been celibate. And now that she was a sword, did she still understand feelings?

:No, child, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I think your emotions are quite healthy. I think it’s just as well that you feel this way, especially since he’s out here looking for you.:

She held quite still, rigid with surprise.
What?

Nyara had never experienced such mixed emotions in her life, all of them painfully intense. Elation and fear. Joy and dismay. She hugged her furs to herself and trembled.

:I rather imagined you‘d react this way.:
The sword all but sighed, but there was an undercurrent of satisfied humor.
:I suppose I have seen true love often enough to recognize it when it smacks me between the quillions. From at least a dozen of my bearers. And lately - first that sorceress who went into repopulating the Plains all by herself, then that Kerowyn child, and now you. I am beginning to feel like a matchmaker. Perhaps I should give up my current calling and set up as a marriage broker. Very well.:

Nyara fought all of her emotions down enough to get some kind of answer out. “Very well, what?” she asked.

:We know what you want. So. Now we get you ready for it. That young man needs and wants a
partner,
youngster
-
not a little girl, not just a bedmate, not someone he has to drag about like an anchor and rescue at regular intervals. So, we‘d better start building you in that direction. If,:
the sword finished, with a hint of dry sarcasm,
:that suits you. :

She sat up straighter. A partner. Someone who could stand alone, but chose to stay with another. Someone who just might come rescue
him
once in a while.

“Yes,” she said, quietly, calmly, with her chin up. “That suits me very well.”

Trevalen closed his eyes and narrowed his consciousness, pulling his concentration within himself until he was aware of nothing but himself. A moment only, he paused, finding his balance and center, and from deep within - he stepped out. Onto the Moonpaths, into the spirit realms.

By virtue of their close bond with the StarEyed, any Shin’a’in could walk the Moonpaths; provided that it was at night, under the full moon, and he sought the place with unselfish intent and enough concentration. Any Swords worn could walk the Moonpaths on any night; and call and be answered by the
leshy’a Kal’enedral,
the spirit-warriors sworn to the martial aspect of the Goddess.

A shaman could walk the Moonpaths into the spirit world at any time he chose, and call and be answered by any spirit that lingered there, if the spirit he sought was willing. . . .

That knowledge brought no comfort, only doubt and trepidation.
And that is the question, indeed. Is Dawnfire willing ?

Dawnfire. Of Tale’edras, but called by the Shin’a’in Aspect of the Goddess, to serve in a form a Shin’a’in would recognize - the emblem of one of the four First Clans. He had called and spoken with her on several occasions now, but each time he called, it was with questioning and fear deep in his heart. Fear that this time she would not answer.

Questioning his own motives.

Kra’heera had ordered him to remain at k’Sheyna Vale to learn the Star-Eyed’s motive and purpose in creating a Shin’a’in Avatar out of one of the Hawkbrothers. Never had She created an Avatar before, much less one from a child of the Sundered Kin, the magic-users. If Kra’heera had speculations, he kept them to himself. Tre’valen had no | guesses at all.

He had learned nothing of Her motivation in all the time he had dwelt here. He had, however, learned far too much of his own heart, a heart that ached with loss, and yearned for one that he could not touch. Ironic that he should discover the love of his life and his soulmate only after she was - technically at least - dead. But was that not like the Goddess, to create such ironies for Her shaman?

Keep to the journey, traveler. The Moonpaths are peril enough without your wandering off them.
He walked the Moonpaths, dream-hunting in the spirit world; keeping safely on the trails meant for the living, and sending his call out into the golden mist beyond where lingering spirits lived. Golden mist, for he hunted by daylight; at night, the mist would be silver. This was not wearisome for a shaman, though one who was not so trained returned to his body weary and drained if he dared to venture here. And as a shaman, he knew that time meant very little in this realm, so he walked onward with patience, waiting for the sign that would tell him that Dawnfire was coming - or not.

One moment he was alone; then she was there, before him, in her hawk-form, hovering above the pathway on sun-bright wings. A great vorcel-hawk, glowing with a fierce inner light, so full of energy that the mist about her crackled.

But this time, instead of coming to rest upon the path as she always had before, she spoke one word into his mind.

:Follow.:

Then she was gone, diving out of the spirit realm with speed he could not match - but leaving behind a glowing trail that he followed back, back, back to his body, to the material world. He sank into himself; feeling crept back to arms and legs, he put on the shell of himself as a comfortable garment.

He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes to find the Hawk that was Dawnfire poised before him. She watched him; before he could blink his eyes twice, the Hawk passing over her, intensifying the glow of her inner fire. Soon she glowed like a tiny sun, as she had when she first transformed.

He looked away for a moment, his eyes watering with the brightness. When he looked back, the Hawk no longer perched there.

In its place was the transparent and radiant form of the woman. He had never seen her this Way in the real world, only in the spirit realm.
A woman made of glowing, liquid glass.
...