Andre Norton - Sorceress Of The Witch World

It was Hilarion who moved as if to ease his long body, cramped in the inadequate space beyond the still sleeping Ayllia.

“The tower people.” He did not ask that as a question but made it a statement of fact.

“One of their flyers,” agreed my father.

“This machine,” Hilarion continued, “it answers you easily, yet she”—he pointed with his chin to my mother, not loosing his grip on the wand—“is of the Old Race and those love not machines . . . .”

“I am not of Estcarp,” my father answered. “Gates upon gates seem to tie worlds together. I entered through such a one into Estcarp. And in my own time and place I was a fighting man who used such machines—though not exactly like this one. We found this on the shore of the sea when first we came here through a gate which would not open to us again. And since then it has been our fortress.”

“Only if you keep away from the towers,” Hilarion commented. “For how long have you roamed so, hunting a gate to take you back?”

Simon shrugged. “The days we had numbered, but it would seem that time here does not march at the same pace as it does in Estcarp.”

“How so?” Hilarion was surprised. How much more stunned would he be when he discovered just how many years had passed in Escore if or when we returned?

“I left a daughter who was a child,” my father said, and he turned to smile directly at me, shyly, ill at ease, but somehow as a plea, “and now I face a grown woman who has gone her own way to some purpose.”

Hilarion looked to me, more surprise in that glance, before he stared again at Simon and my mother.

Jaelithe nodded as if she were answering some unvoiced question.

“Kaththea is our daughter. Though we have long been apart. And”—now she spoke to me—“it would seem much has happened.”

I must pick and choose my words well, I thought. To tell them of what had chanced in Estcarp and perhaps somewhat in Escore, that I could do. But while I distrusted Hilarion, and there was no chance to talk apart with my parents, I must speak with care.

Now I told them of what had chanced with the three of us after Jaelithe had gone seeking my father—of my own taking by the Wise Women and the years spent in the Place of Silence. Then of that last blow which the witches of Estcarp aimed at Karsten, and of how Kyllan and Kemoc had come to free me and of our escape into Escore.

Thereafter I did not change the truth, I only told part of it—that we had come into a land which was also under the cloud of an ancient war, and that we had united there with those akin to us in spirit, though I mentioned no names or places.

My own misfortunes I dealt with as best I could, saying mainly that I had been ensorceled by one deceiving us and had headed back to Estcarp for treatment. Thereafter I spoke of the Vupsall and of the raiders, and lastly of how Ayllia and I had come to the citadel on the cape and of our passing through the gate.

I dared not use mind touch, even to let my mother know there was more which should be known between us. But something in her eyes as they met mine told me that she had guessed it was so and when opportunity arose we would speak of it.

Mostly I feared that Hilarion might be one to turn on me with questions of how Escore had fared since his leaving there. But strangely enough he did not. Then I began to see in that abstraction a suspicious silence, and I liked even less the thought of his return, though without him we could not go either.

When I had done my father sighed. “It would seem that indeed our carefully numbered days here are not to be trusted. So Karsten is now behind a barrier and the Wise Women brought themselves to naught in so building it. Who then rules?”

“Koris, by our last hearing, though he suffered an ill wound in the latter days of the war—so that he no longer carries Volt’s ax.”

“Volt’s ax,” my father repeated as one who remembers many things. “Volt’s abiding place and the ax . . . Those were brave days. Their like will not come again for us, I believe. But if Karsten lies low, what of Alizon?”

“It is said by those who have come to join Kyllan,” I told him, “that Alizon, having seen what chanced with Karsten, walks small these days.”

“Which will last only for years enough to match my fingers.” He held out his right hand. “And then they shall think big and begin to rattle swords out of sheaths again. Koris may rule, and well will he do so, but he can also do with old friends at his back or right hand. And if he holds not Volt’s ax, he shall need them even more.”

As well as if I could read his mind I knew my father’s thought. Though he was not of the Old Race born, yet by will he had become one of them. And between him and Koris of Gorm there was a strong tie forged by blood and sweat during the struggle with the Kolder. He willed with all his might now to ride once more into Es City and be there at his friend’s need.

“Yes,” agreed my mother. “But before we ride west to Es, we must be in the same world.”

So she summoned us back to the matter at hand. My father shook his head, not in denial, but as if to thrust away thoughts which were now a hindrance. Then he looked at the control board, seeming to read plainly there what was a puzzle in my sight.

He asked of Hilarion, “Have you any knowledge of how far we are from your gate?”

“This will tell.” Hilarion spun the wand between his fingers. “We have yet some distance before us. And what of your flyer?”

“It is going.” Once more my father’s attention was for the board. “We can travel as soon as the alarm ceases.”

It was indeed not long before the crawler backed out of the pocket in which my father had set it. Then it trundled on its way and all we saw was the unchanging bleakness of this world.

This was a place of dunes and hillocks and we were forced to pick a roundabout way among them; our view of what might lie ahead was thus foreshortened. But my father had other warnings built into this machine and upon those we depended.

It seemed long, that night during which we bumped along until our bodies were as one huge bruise, though in the seats my mother and father fared a little better. Then we pulled to another rest stop and Hilarion thereafter took my mother’s seat, as the wand now showed that we were not too far from our goal. Jaelithe came to sit beside Ayllia. We had been able to dribble water into the girl’s mouth, but she had not eaten since she and I had divided our supply in the corridor of the tower city, and I wondered how much longer she could exist. My mother reassured me that, remaining in this unconscious state as she had for so long, her body had less demands.

We drove the crawler up a ridge, teetered there for a minute, and began a downward slip. I heard my father give a shouted exclamation and saw his hands move quickly on the controls. The screen showed us what lay ahead—one of those black ribbon roads. And we were sliding straight for it as my father fought to halt our precipitous descent.

He managed to turn the blunt nose of the vehicle sharply left so we skidded to a stop pointing in that direction parallel to the road. I heard what I was sure was his sigh of relief as we came to rest without touching the pavement.

“What now?” But he might be asking that of someone or something beyond our own company.

“That way!” Hilarion squirmed impatiently in his seat, pointing the wand directly across the highway.

My father laughed harshly. “That takes some considering. We cannot cross in this—not and want it to be of service thereafter.”

“Why?” Hilarion’s impatience was stronger, as if, so close to the goal, he would not be gainsaid in making a straight line to reach it.