Andre Norton - The Warding of Witch World

“Lady—I hear in my head. Those who deal with magic are tainted so. See, now the Darkness shows in me!”

“Not Darkness, Liara—you are now daughter to the Lady. She gives many gifts—the opening of thought to thought is one. Did you not learn that at Lormt?” She smiled.

“Now, these rocks are too hot to perch on with any comfort. Let us move on. Gruck will carry you until we can decide some proper foot coverings, for your flesh would be torn to pieces here. See, even my trail boots have their own tale of gashes.”

For a moment Liara’s features tightened as if she were about to object to that. The giant held out his hand and her small, dirt-grimed one was swallowed in his grasp. She stared intently into his wide face, and their eyes locked for a moment, and then she said:

“There are dreams which one can be caught in, so deeply that all seems real. Perhaps this is a dream, but if it be so, I accept it.”

They moved out of the glare of the sun on the dark rock and came to a cup of welcome shade. Destree shared out food and for the first time Liara ate for herself, though Destree was glad at that moment that it was dried bits of the leaper and not some of Grucks grubs she had to offer,

They—these who come from the north —the giant’s thought-speech was not interrupted by the clump of his mighty jaws— were heading south and west ?

He leaned back a little, his hands braced on his knees, his head turning slowly as if he made some detailed thought record of all he could see here.

Liara nodded. “There was a country called Var by the western seas, but there they did not plan to go.”

“This is a wide land,” Gruck continued. “Can those of the party who have such Power link minds to guide us?”

Slowly Liara shook her head. “Nor might they wish to. I know that the witch—she must have guessed what pulled the Gray Ones upon us. Why would they want me to draw the attention of the Dark to the path they take?”

You, Sister in Service- —that head swung now in Destree’s direction— does this seem true to you ?

“Only from one way of thought—•” Destree was beginning when suddenly Liara cried out, pointing skyward.

“Falcon—see, it comes to search us out!”

The bird had turned in a wide circle and was indeed heading back toward them. Destree watched it eagerly. She had served on ships where Falconers had been marines. And where there were falcons, surely those who called them brother could not be far away! It was swooping lower; waving or calling to the bird would mean nothing, for it answered only to the signals of its bonder. Yet, when it made two circles about them and then sped westward, she was sure that their presence would be speedily known to those who had launched the bird.

It would seem that they must retrace their way, Keris thought. How far must they rove now? The flight of steps facing them could be climbed perhaps by humans, but the pack train could not attempt such a feat.

They established a temporary camp. As he went about his regular duties Keris wondered how many of his companions were as disheartened as he. There was very little talk among them and most of them were frowning.

He passed by Mouse, who was sitting a little apart, her now well-worn and hem-tattered robe huddled about her as if she needed some shelter against a chill wind. Her hands were folded in her lap, but her attention was all for that forbidding flight of stairs. Was there, Keris wondered fleetingly, some trick of the Power which could waft them to the top? After all, in their time the witches had moved mountains as if those were child’s buckets packed with sand. But Mouse was one alone, not a whole council-in-order of her kind—not that he believed that the witches, who had nearly wiped their kind out of the world by such action in the past, would be ready and willing to try such again.

He saw a flash of movement across one of the steps—a flick of brilliant color. The thing fled for a space and then spread nearly transparent wings so that he could see its likeness to one of the lizard flying shadows on the wall now well behind them.

Wings—well, only the falcons possessed those. Even as that thought crossed Keris’s mind both of the Falconers sent their birds aloft for scouting.

It was still only midafternoon and there was something about their crowning disappointment which seemed to make them all languid. He fastened the last of the ponies to the picket line and the creature, though it showed its teeth for an instant, did not snap at him as he had expected, preparing to dodge.

The Keplians and Jasta were, of course, never picketed, and for some reason they were walking in single file, like mages intent on some rite, along the foot of the stairs. The Lady Eleeri stopped sipping from her water bottle to watch them, her eyes narrowed as if to intensify her gaze.

Keris dropped down not too far away. Lord Romar and the others were busied with that map, which was Romar’s particular charge. But no one was making any suggestions. It was Mouse who spoke, and her voice, soft as it was, carried to rouse them all.

“Lady,” she said to Eleeri, “what say these you have won to our aid?”

It was the mare Theela rather than Eleeri who answered.

*We can go—and this one.* She nodded toward Jasta. “The dumb-tongued ones*—she used a sharp sneer Keris had never heard before, as she indicated the Torgians—*if they go free of riders or all else in the way of burdens and are aided. But those—* she snorted in the direction of the ponies, *this is not for them!*

Keris’s protest was being framed even as Eleeri answered. Much as he detested the small beasts, what they carried with every day’s travel southward grew the more important. Boots must be repaired, shoes for the Torgians replaced; the scaled-down necessities by which they lived could not be just left here.

“There is need, Wind-Swift Sister”—Eleeri used both mind and tongue speech to answer the mare—“for what they carry. Nor can nearly half of it be taken on without them. We have willing backs, but we go into the unknown where there may wait such hunters as would welcome travelers heavy with gear.”

Lord Romar rolled up his map. “It would be best to wait until the birds return. If there is a way beyond this trap we have gotten ourselves into, perhaps they can point it out.”

All were willing to agree to that. But Keris roused himself and went to the dump of packs, noting by the brand mark on the hide cover of each just what was within. The more he looked, the less he believed that anything at all could be discarded and they not suffer from its loss later.

Taking advantage of a halt in a place which could be easily defended, the party began to get to tasks of their own setting. The packs were opened for supplies to repair boots, arrow shafts to be fitted with heads, kits for the stitching up of the worst of tears which the mountain growth had left in their clothing.

The Escorian found again the knife which had been Liara’s. It was as clear in the sun as if it had never been blood-clouded, but when he held it in his hand he was nearly startled enough to cry out. For the sense that what he held was by loan only and that the Alizondern would return to claim her own was as clear as if Mouse had proclaimed it.

Swifttalon was back first from the scouting, and after communicating with the bird, Vorick reported that there was nothing to the east but mountains rising ever higher, mostly bare now of any growth.

His fellow scout was delayed so long that Krispin was plainly ill-at-ease and paced back and forth, his helm discarded so that he could stare farther skyward in search.

When at last the falcon came into sight, they all felt a measure of relief. The bird came to rest, panting, its bill open, and Denever, who was nearest, held up a small metal cup he had just filled so that the bird drank.