Robin McKinley - Pegasus

“ The prevailing wind is in our favour going back, I’m told, ” he replied. “Also they won’t have to spend any time or energy making any circuits so the earthbound can point and wave at one of their own flying with the pegasi. But we do need to go now—I was going to come and wake you in another minute. You’ll come and see me off ?” He took her by the shoulders and stared into her face as if memorising her.“It’s not going to be easy to fly away and leave you behind. ”

She smiled, but her face felt stiff. “You promised. We promised. ”

“Yes. We promised. King and king’s daughter.” He stooped and kissed her, and turned away.

So she was still wearing her nightdress as she followed him to the big meadow where twenty-two pegasi had landed in a candlelit spiral a day and a half ago, and where the banquet had been held last night. The meadow was clear this morning, of both banqueting tables and spirals. She lingered briefly at the edge of the trees; it didn’t seem respectful to be in her nightdress, barefoot, her hair standing on end and her face unwashed. She rubbed her face with her hands and smoothed her hair back; but then in an odd way—a way that seemed to align itself with the haziness, which this morning seemed to be standing close to her, almost like a human or a pegasus whom she could turn to and ask questions of, like, Who are you? What are you? Why are you standing near me? —it almost seemed more respectful to be barefoot and in her shift than in the gown she had worn last night, and with her hair put up like a grown woman’s for a ball. She stepped forward, out of the trees, and the pegasi who were already there silently made room for her.

She didn’t notice when Ebon joined her; only noticed that he had. He and she and many other pegasi watched as the draia were laid out and the ropes stretched away from them. The luggage drai this time was very small, and a mere two pegasi would carry it: much of what Corone and his daughter had brought had been gifts; most of what was going back now was gifts from the pegasi.

The pegasi made everything ready just as they had done in the Outer Court of the palace; this was the way they did it, and it had nothing to do with who was or wasn’t watching. Even the way the pegasi who were not immediately concerned with the harnessing were standing seemed to be creating some kind of shape or sign; Sylvi thought it might have been an extension of the wheel-and-spokes of the draia and their ropes, only made of standing pegasi. A charm for a safe flight? They’re just naturally polite and elegant, she thought, half despairingly, holding the edge of her nightgown down against a little eddy of wind.

My father is leaving me here alone—

And then there was a violent blow to her shoulder and she staggered away, narrowly missing running into the pegasus standing on her other side.

Oops, said Ebon. Sorry.

You’re as clumsy as a human, said Sylvi.

Never, he replied. Say that again and I’ll stand on your foot.

She looked up at him and realised he was worrying about her. This seemed so implausible she laughed, and—because she read Ebon very well now—she saw him relax. You did that deliberately.

Hmmph, said Ebon. Would I do that?

This morning, because there were fewer harnesses to put on, and perhaps because her father was leaving, it seemed to Sylvi that it took no time at all before she had to say good-bye. The pegasi rearranged themselves into another shape, which made her and her father the centre of it, but they bowed their heads or turned aside as the king held out his arms to his daughter and she rushed forward into them.

“You’ll have an amazing journey, ” he said. “I envy you the Caves. ”

“You could have stayed longer, ” she said into his shirtfront. There was a pause, and she looked up into his face. He was wearing an expression she had never seen before, quizzical and a little uncertain.

“Only you were invited to see the Caves, ” he said. “I’m only here at all because I wouldn’t send you all alone to this place where almost no human has ever been—and certainly no one specifically bound by the Alliance has ever set foot. Lrrianay understood that I could not let you come alone, and so agreed to bring me too—for a day, two days, before your real visit begins, I imagine. And I agreed to that because I trust Lrrianay even more than I trust my own right hand. ”

She stared up at him. “You didn’t tell me that, ” she said.

He raised his shoulders.“I wasn’t planning on telling you at all, ” he said.“ There is something about the air of this place. Or maybe it’s just the pegasi. ”

She looked around. Even in their turning-away the pegasi had made a pattern; the smaller smooth arches of their bent necks and bodies provided counter-curves like a scalloped hem, around the edge of the circle she and her father stood in. “I think it’s the pegasi. ”

“So do I, ” said her father, and bent and kissed her again.“I won’t tell you to be good, because I know you’ll do your best, and your best is very, very good, young one, and don’t let being my daughter blight that fact. Your mother says that I can worry that I’m not worrying well enough, and I suspect you’ve inherited that talent. I won’t tell you to take care of yourself, because I know the pegasi will take the best care of you that anyone could—better than the mere human care you mostly have to put up with. Perhaps I’ll just tell you to have fun. And that I love you and will miss you. How very unkingly of me. ”

Sylvi meant to say something—good-bye, I love you—but her mouth wouldn’t work.

He turned away as if it hurt him, and walked to his drai. Two pegasi fastened the safety-ropes around him, and then stood away. The eight pegasi moved sideways, taking up the slack till the human king swung clear of the ground. Sylvi caught her breath: she heard Guaffa say the necessary word, heard it echoed by the others—heard echoes she was sure had nothing to do with her ears—heard the chord the shamans sang. Almost she saw the magic-weave that held the king’s drai twinkle into being, but perhaps that was just something about her eyes this morning, watching her father leave her —and then, in perfect unison, the pegasi broke into a canter, and almost immediately into a gallop, racing away from her. Six pegasi accompanied them; three of them she knew were shamans. The two luggage-bearers followed last, a little to one side, as if aware of the princess’ eyes on her father’s drai. It was interesting, thought Sylvi distantly, her immediate attention floundering in what her father had just told her, in her awareness that she had chosen to stay, and that he was leaving right now —it was interesting seeing what was happening from the ground, seeing what it looked like. It was just another pegasus dance.

The pegasi leaped into the air. Her father raised his arm over his head. She started to raise hers in response and realised he couldn’t see her. It seemed barely a breath or even a heartbeat before he was little more than a black dot above the trees on the horizon.

Her eyes burned. She kept them stretched wide open, watching the dot disappear. Ebon had joined her, and tucked the top of an open wing around her as she stood where her father had left her. She stood like that for a long moment more, still and cold as stone, but then she began to notice the warmth of Ebon’s feathers and the gentle movement of his side as he breathed. The dot had disappeared: she was staring with her dry, burning eyes at empty sky.

“I’ll have my bath now, please, ” she said aloud, as if she were talking to a human.

“Baff, ” said Ebon. “Fwaayomee. ” Follow me.