Lawrence Watt-Evans - Taking Flight

At least, it was agreed among four of them. Asha wanted to rest; Ezdral did whatever Irith wanted; Irith and Kelder had arrived at this arrangement. Azraya, however, had other ideas.

“What, just sit here and fester?” she demanded.

“Or find work, if you like,” Kelder answered mildly. “We don’t have very much money left.”

“Ha!” Azraya stamped off.

She made no mention of her plans that night, but in the morning she came down to the inn’s breakfast with her shoulder-bag packed, glaring belligerently at the others.

“You’re going on without us?” Kelder asked, as they finished eating.

“You’re damned right I am,” she snarled.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Kelder said, “but if you’re going, good luck.”

She stared at him for a moment, as if challenging him to say more, then said, “Goodbye, Kelder.”

“Is there somewhere we can find you, when we get to Ethshar?” he called to her, as she turned toward the door.

She hesitated, then paused in the doorway and turned back. “If you really do ever get there,” she said, “and if you really do want to find me, and it’s not too late, come to the northeast corner of Shiphaven Market each morning. I’ve decided to take another try at finding a berth as a sailor, and that’s the best place to look.”

“Thank you,” Kelder said, “I’ll do that.”

She almost smiled, then thought better of it. She turned and marched out.

“Well,” Irith said when the door had closed, “we’re well rid of her!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Asha replied. “I sort of liked her.”

Irith glared at the child, while Kelder said nothing, and Ezdral, as usual, simply stared blankly at Irith.

There were no wizards in Thurion, simply by happenstance, and Klathoa, being ruled by witches, had outlawed all other forms of magic. In Ikala the three wizards had all learned their arts from the same master, who had disapproved of love spells on principle-an attitude that Kelder could appreciate, when Irith reported it.

That was the first day.

The king of Porona did not like his two wizards talking to foreigners, and Irith had to slip in through a window in bird shape in order to discover that neither of them knew a counter for Fendel’s Infatuous Love Spell. The only wizard in Thrullimion was not home, and did not return home, although Irith waited most of the afternoon and well into the evening before giving up and making a moonlight flight back to Lamum.

That was the second day, and that evening Thellesh the Wondrous completed his ritual and began reading through the messages his apprentice had collected while he was occupied. When Irith awoke the next morning-which was rather late, since she had not gotten in until almost midnight-she found a message waiting for her in the innkeeper’s care.

“It was delivered by a walking table,” the innkeeper said, speaking in an awestruck whisper. Irith and Kelder looked at each other, not sure whether to believe this; then Irith unfolded the note and read it aloud.

Thellesh did not know the particular countercharm she was looking for, but would be delighted by a chance to discuss the matter with her.

Irith sent a reply, paying a girl from the village two bits to deliver it, thanking the wizard politely. Then she and Kelder and Asha sat down to consider.

They stayed one more day, resting; Irith paid a visit to Perelia, two kingdoms to the south, on the coast of the Gulf of the East, and found half a dozen wizards, all of them busy with something. One said he might have the counterspell, but would need to research it, which would cost three pieces in gold-he was not interested in trade of any sort, nor did he care who or what Irith was, that was his price.

Irith indignantly rejected it.

Two more were too busy to speak with her at all; two admitted they’d never heard of that particular spell; and the last one was incoherent, so that Irith was unable to figure out if she even spoke a recognizable language.

She was back in Lamum in time for supper, and they all went to bed early.

As Kelder had requested, the innkeeper roused them all an hour before dawn; they dressed, breakfasted, and packed, and by the time the sun had cleared the eastern horizon they were walking down the slight slope from Castle Lamum, toward the border post where soldiers in red kilts passed them into the Hegemony of Ethshar.

From there, they set out across the plain, into Ethshar.

The landscape was remarkably dull, Kelder thought-for mile after mile they walked between endless fields of wheat and corn, all of it still fresh and green. Tidy little farmhouses broke the monotony here and there, all of them whitewashed stone roofed with thatch. No place else along the Great Highway was so intensely cultivated; in fact, no place Kelder had ever seen in his life was so thoroughly farmed. There were no side-roads, no rocky patches, no trees or bushes, just fields, and small yards around the houses.

And it went on seemingly forever. The Highway marched them onward to the southwest, sometimes straight enough to make a line to the horizon, sometimes curving gently and vanishing into the endless greenery ahead of them.

This was, beyond question, a vast plain; the prophecy was satisfied on that point.

The three-day rest in Lamum had them all in fairly high spirits, but Ezdral and Asha still moved more slowly than Kelder liked; the day wore on, and although they walked steadily, the landscape did not change. The only visible indication that they were making any progress was that Castle Lamum gradually shrank behind them, and eventually vanished below the horizon. Other, faster travelers occasionally passed them going westward; none came from the west.

After they had been walking for hours, and the sun was high overhead, Kelder burst out, “This is boring!”

Irith nodded. “That’s why I don’t come here often,” she said. “The Small Kingdoms are much more interesting.”

“These fields go on forever!” Kelder said.

“It only seems like it,” Irith said.

A moment later she added, “But it does seem like it.”

They stopped for lunch at a spot that was just like all the others, and while they ate more westbound traffic passed them.

There was still nothing the other way. Kelder remarked on it.

“Of course not, silly,” Irith said. “We aren’t halfway yet, and nobody would stop for the night anywhere between Lamum and the Bridge-the local farmers would probably kill you if you tried.”

It was almost two hours past noon when they encountered their first eastbound traveler.

“Oh, may the gods help me,” Kelder said, “you mean we’re just now halfway?”

“Probably not,” Irith said. “After all, they’re probably faster than we are.”

Asha whimpered at that, and tried to walk faster.

The sun was setting, its parting magic turning the clouds to incredible shades of pink and lavender, and Kelder was becoming concerned that they would have no shelter for the night. He looked at the orange ball, and suddenly came to two realizations.

First, the sun was off to the right, rather than straight ahead; the road had turned until it was headed far more south than west. And second, the ground was no longer level, but sloping slightly downward. He looked down at the dirt beneath his feet, trying to convince himself that this was not merely an illusion.

Irith noticed what Kelder was doing, and her wings sprang forth; she rose straight up, flapping lazily, and peered ahead.

“I can see the river,” she reported, “shining gold in the sunset. There’s a bright line across it that must be Azrad’s Bridge catching the sun, and a black line beside that that must be the bridge’s shadow, and the Inn is atop the ridge on the far side. Look closely, maybe you can see the smoke from the chimney.”