Lawrence Watt-Evans - Taking Flight

Asha suddenly became very attentive indeed, and Irith sighed.

“Listen,” she said, “the whole thing is insane, but if you’ve just got to try it, take some time to think it over, all right? You don’t want to be roaming the streets of Angarossa at night, and I’m not going to tell you how to get there from here. Let’s just wait until morning, and if Asha’s still here and you still want to try it, we can talk then.”

“All right,” Kelder agreed. The idea of dashing out into the night was not very appealing, once he stopped to consider it, and this sounded like an excellent compromise.

“But what do I do tonight?” Asha wailed.

Kelder looked down at her, then across at Irith.

Irith’s hair was gleaming golden in the lamplight; her white tunic had somehow managed to stay clean on the road, and that and her pale skin made her look like an island of light against the dark wood paneling behind her. He and she would be taking a room at the inn, of course-it would use up almost half of his remaining funds, he estimated, but that didn’t seem important. He had been looking forward to sharing a room with her again.

The shapeshifter nodded slightly. Kelder sighed. There were, he now saw, some serious drawbacks to being a champion of the lost and forlorn.

“You can stay with us tonight,” he said, reluctantly.

There were times during the night when Kelder seriously considered trying to approach Irith, despite the little girl curled up beside the sleeping shapeshifter, but he resisted the temptation. He woke several times, as he was unaccustomed to sleeping on a wooden floor; there was only one bed, and Asha and Irith were sharing that. Each time he woke, he thought over the situation and stayed where he was.

It was easier after the candle had burned out, and he could no longer see the graceful curve of Irith’s body on the bed.

When he awoke for the day, not particularly well rested, Irith was already up and dressed and gazing out the window. Asha was still asleep, curled into a tight little ball on the bed.

Judging by the light, it was an hour or more after dawn-Kelder felt vaguely guilty about sleeping so late, but since he had certainly not slept well, perhaps it balanced out.

“Should we wake her?” Irith asked in a whisper, gesturing toward the bed.

“No,” Kelder said. “Let her sleep. The poor girl must have been exhausted. She should be safe at home, not out walking the highway.”

Irith nodded agreement. “It’s awful about her brother, isn’t it?”

Kelder nodded in return. “What about breakfast?” he asked.

“I haven’t done anything about it yet,” she replied.

“I’ll go see what’s to be had, then,” Kelder suggested.

“Do that,” Irith agreed.

Kelder found his way downstairs. In the dining room a dozen people were eating-most of them, he noticed, just finishing up. Larsi spotted Kelder as he looked around. “Are you and the Flyer ready to eat, then?” she asked. “I suppose you worked up an appetite last night.”

Kelder started to make a defensive answer mentioning Asha’s presence, but thought better of it. After all, when they had taken the room they had said it was for two, not three, and an extra charge was not inconceivable.

Instead, he simply said, “No, we didn’t.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “But we’d like breakfast, anyway.”

“Well, you’re in luck; the chickens were laying well today, and I’ve got four eggs left. There’s salt ham, and pears, and plenty more. Eggs, ham, and tea for a copper round. Do you want a tray for your room, or will you eat down here?”

“Is there a charge for the tray?” Kelder asked.

Larsi smiled. “Well, now that you mention it, yes,” she admitted, “but it’s only two bits.”

“We’ll eat down here, then,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He turned, and headed back to the room.

He knocked, in case one of the girls was using the chamberpot or otherwise in want of privacy, and then entered.

Asha was still curled up asleep; Irith was gone.

Puzzled, Kelder looked around, but she was indisputably not to be found anywhere in the little room. He stepped back out into the passageway, but there was no sign of her there, either, and he could see no exit save the stairs he had taken.

He had never gotten past the foot of those stairs; she could not have slipped past him unseen.

He stepped back in the room and looked around again, and this time noticed the open window.

They were on the inn’s upper floor, a good ten feet above the ground, and it was a very small window, but Irith had her magic. Kelder doubted he could squeeze through the opening himself, but Irith was thinner than he was, and once she was halfway out she could have grown wings easily enough.

He crossed the room and looked out.

The wall below the window was not sheer; there was a narrow ledge a foot or so down, but it was much too narrow for a person to stand on. From there to the ground the wall was smooth dressed stone.

The alley below was muddy-apparently it had rained at some point in the night-but there were no footprints.

If Irith had left by the window, she must have flown. He leaned out, so as to see past the overhanging eaves, and studied the sky. He could see no sign of her, but that meant little, given his limited area of view.

He shrugged and ducked back inside, whacking his head loudly on the frame. He swore.

Asha was still soundly asleep. He marvelled at her ability to slumber so long and so soundly.

Irith had said he should see about breakfast, so presumably she wouldn’t be gone long. He sat down on the edge of the bed to wait.

Sitting and doing nothing, when one is recently awakened and hungry, is not much fun. Kelder looked around, bored, but there was nothing of any interest in the little room. At least, nothing except Asha. He studied her face as she lay sleeping.

She was a skinny little thing, and he realized suddenly that the big dark area on one cheek that he had taken for a smudge of dirt was a half-healed bruise. He leaned over and looked her over more closely.

She was wearing only a cotton shift; he lifted the sheet and investigated.

Her arms bore bruises old and new; so did her legs, and, he saw with dismay, her throat. There were old scars on her legs, as well-something had done considerably worse than mere bruises once.

Kelder frowned, and pulled the sheet back in place.

“Is something wrong?” Irith asked.

Kelder started, and whirled.

She was standing by the window, looking just as if she had never left.

“I didn’t see you come in,” he said. He hadn’t heard wings, either, he realized.

“You weren’t supposed to,” she replied, smiling.

He smiled back, a little uneasily. Marriage to Irith would probably be full of surprises. “Breakfast downstairs any time you’re ready,” he said.

Her smile vanished. “Thank you,” she said, “but I think we might want to skip it.”

“Why?” he asked, startled.

“Because the caravan has already left, and I think they’re already out of sight of Angarossa Castle; at least, I couldn’t see them anywhere, and the stablemaster at the caravanserai said they left over an hour ago.”

“How far did you look?” Kelder asked.

She shrugged. “I didn’t go very high,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to attract too much attention. But I can’t see them from the roof of the inn.”

Kelder frowned again. He looked down at Asha, up at Irith, past her at the window.

“Forget it,” he said. “We’ll catch up with them eventually. She needs her rest, and I need breakfast.”

“All right,” Irith said, with evident relief. “I didn’t really want to argue with them about somebody’s head, anyway.” She made a face at the thought.