Lawrence Watt-Evans - Taking Flight

Kelder wondered again just who she was-and what she was. Her story about being a wizard’s apprentice made sense enough on the surface, but no matter how he figured it, the times were all wrong. She was only fifteen; how could she possibly have done and seen everything she claimed?

There was a mystery here, and if Kelder was going to fulfill his destiny and marry Irith, he would have to unravel it.

How could a girl younger than himself have traveled so widely? Why was she roaming about by herself, with no family or friends, yet apparently known everywhere she went? How did she keep from tiring? Was that more magic, perhaps?

She was a marvel in many ways, certainly-her wings and her beauty were merely the most obvious. When he brought back to Shulara as his bride, when his family and his friends saw her, that would surely put an end to any teasing about his desire to see more of the World and his belief in Zindre’s predictions. If there were creatures like Irith to be found, then obviously the World was worth seeing.

He was tempted to simply ask her, right now, to turn back and go to Shulara with him and marry him, but he didn’t dare.

For one thing, she would almost certainly say no; while she was friendly enough, he didn’t think she was so carefree, or so fond of him, that she would abandon her own plans-whatever they might be-to accompany him. And surely, she would have more sense than to marry a stranger she had just met. She had no reason to do so save to please him, and she had no reason to care that much about pleasing him.

Better to wait and let their relationship grow naturally.

And he didn’t really want to go back home yet, anyway-not while there were more wonders to be found and the rest of his destiny to find. Great cities, vast plains, strange beasts, more magic-they were all out there, still waiting for him.

And now he had a guide to show him the way. He would never have found the Weary Wanderer and its almost miraculous food without Irith, and she might show him other marvels, as well. He wasn’t sure whether those biscuits qualified as a wonder, but they certainly came close.

So for now he resolved to carry on, to try and impress Irith in any way he could, and to learn whatever he could about the World.

Another hour or so brought them to Yondra Keep, a small, old, vine-grown and weather-battered castle atop a hill, with a quiet little village clustered about its walls. Irith looked up at it, and a faintly worried expression crossed her face.

“Kelder,” she said suddenly, “maybe we should stop here for the night.”

“But it’s scarcely mid-afternoon,” he said, puzzled. “Why stop so early?”

“Well, it’s a good four or five leagues yet to Angarossa Castle, that’s why,” she explained. “We couldn’t possibly get there before dark, or at least you couldn’t, and I don’t want to fly on ahead without you, that wouldn’t be any fun. And Angarossa isn’t … well, there are other places I’d rather be after dark than on the road in Angarossa, let’s just put it that way.”

“Oh,” Kelder said. “Ah … why? Are there dragons or something?”

“Dragons?” Irith asked, startled, turning to stare at him. “On the Great Highway?” she smiled, then giggled. “Oh, Kelder, you’re so silly! No, of course there aren’t any dragons.” Her smile vanished, and she said, quite seriously, “But there are bandits.”

“Oh,” Kelder said again. While the prospect of meeting bandits might have seemed exciting once, right now, footsore as he was, it didn’t have any appeal at all. He looked up at Yondra Keep and its surrounding village. “All right, let’s stop here.”

“Good!” Irith said, clapping her hands gleefully. “I know just the place!”

The inn was not on the Great Highway itself, but tucked back in a corner of the village, behind a row of houses that was itself behind a row of shops. It was a very small inn, with only four rooms upstairs and one of those occupied by the innkeeper himself, and a dining room that held only a single large table, with seating for a dozen or so.

The food and accommodations were excellent, though. Kelder shuddered to think what the bill would be.

And of course, as he had half-expected, everyone knew Irith by name-not just the innkeeper, but the steward and the scullery boy and the other guests, as well. Irith introduced Kelder to them all. He bowed and nodded politely, quite sure he wouldn’t remember all the names and faces.

The other guests, half a dozen in all, were traveling merchants, which was, when one thought about it, hardly surprising. Kelder sat and listened to them swap stories about remarkable deals they had made; the merchants found this endlessly amusing, but Irith politely excused herself and spent the remainder of the afternoon playing with the kittens in the kitchen, instead.

Kelder thought that Irith had probably made the better choice; half the time he didn’t even know what the merchants were talking about, with their mark-ups and discounts and percentages.

At least everyone along the Great Highway seemed to speak Trader’s Tongue. Kelder had heard other languages spoken, but only in the background; travelers and strangers always seemed to be addressed first in Trader’s Tongue.

Which, of course, was why it was called Trader’s Tongue, and why it was such an easy language to learn-this was what it was for.

It was after dinner that night-a good but unremarkable dinner-that Kelder discovered one great advantage of staying in so small an inn. With only three rooms, he and Irith had to share.

And with just the two of them, they were given the smallest room, with only one bed.

Kelder thought about making some noble gesture like sleeping out in the stable, or at least on the floor, but then he looked at Irith’s smile and realized that she must have known, when she led him to this out-of-the-way inn, exactly what the situation was and what she was getting into.

It would seem that he had, indeed, been courting, and more successfully than he thought. He had not seriously anticipated so quick a conquest-if conquest it was. The question arose in Kelder’s mind, and was immediately suppressed, as to just who had conquered whom.

It didn’t really matter; they were, he knew, fated for each other.

They talked for a long time about nothing in particular-Kelder learned a great many new words in Trader’s Tongue, and felt himself becoming more comfortable with the language-and in the end they did more than just talk.

It was wonderful.

It was very late indeed when Kelder finally fell asleep.

By the time they were up and dressed in the morning the other guests had eaten their breakfasts and departed. Kelder was in no hurry, but for once Irith seemed a little impatient, so they ate quickly and set out without dawdling.

At first he found himself wondering about little things he had noticed about Irith. She never removed the bloodstone choker, for example, not even when sleeping-but maybe the clasp was hard to work. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at it, in the dimness of their shared room.

She also always wore six or seven narrow bands of some sort tight around her right ankle, none of them particularly attractive, and from what little he had seen Kelder was unsure if they were bangles, or bracelets, or possibly even tattoos. Three had designs involving feathers, and one gleamed like mother-of-pearl. He was determined to get a better look at them sometime.

There was no hurry, though.

After they had been walking for awhile, Kelder’s attention turned to the journey itself. They were meeting far fewer travelers now; traffic east of Yondra Keep was apparently less than traffic farther west. Also, the distance from the Keep to the Angarossan border was roughly three times as far as to the Keep from the Amramionic border, which seemed odd to him. Shouldn’t the Keep be in the center of the kingdom?