Taking Flight

Chapter Thirty-One

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.”

Kelder stared, and saw a line of smoke rising gently into the vast polychrome sky — but that by itself would have meant nothing, as many of the farmhouses had cookfires and chimneys.

“That’s the inn?” he asked, pointing.

“That’s it,” Irith confirmed.

By the time they came within sight of the bridge full night was upon them; the gods had washed the World in darkness and lit the stars anew. The lesser moon gleamed pink in the west, while the greater was nowhere to be seen. The fields to either side were black in the gloom, as was the road they walked upon.

And in truth, they could see almost nothing of the bridge itself, but the torches set along its rails blazed warm and inviting, beacons in the night. The sight gave Kelder and Asha renewed strength, and they hurried ahead.

Irith held back slightly, and Kelder turned, wondering.

Before he could speak, she said, “There’s a toll.”

“What?”

“They charge a fee to let you cross the bridge, just the way Caren wanted to charge tolls on the highway through Angarossa.”

Kelder stopped. “How much?” he asked.

“A copper piece, it used to be — that was for each adult, no charge for children or livestock.”

That meant three pieces — Irith, Ezdral, and himself. Asha would be free.

“I’ll fly across,” Irith said, “or maybe swim — I haven’t been a fish in ages. And I’ll meet you on the far side.”

Two pieces, then; Kelder considered the contents of his purse and decided that was manageable, but he was not happy about it. “Maybe I should swim, too,” he suggested.

“Are you a good swimmer?” Irith asked. “It’s a long way to swim for a human, especially in the dark.”

“I’ve never tried swimming at all,” Kelder admitted. “There wasn’t anywhere to swim, in the hills of Shulara.”

“Then you can’t swim, silly!” Irith told him. “It’s something you need to learn! You’d just sink and probably drown!”

“Oh,” Kelder replied, embarrassed.

“Come on!” Asha called; she had ignored the discussion and was waiting halfway down the slope.

Kelder came.

There were no guards on the bridge, so far as he could see, and he wondered if Irith’s information might be out of date. He said as much as they stepped onto the first stones.

“I don’t think so,” Irith said. “I think they’re at the other end. And even if they aren’t, I’m going to swim, anyway — I haven’t been a fish in years!” She leaned over, kissed Kelder on the cheek, then slipped away into the darkness beyond the bridge’s torchlit rail.

He tried to watch her go, but outside the glow of the torches he could see nothing but the night. He sighed, and led Asha and Ezdral onward.

Irith’s information proved correct in every particular; by the time they were halfway across, Kelder could see and hear that four soldiers lounged at the far end of the bridge, chatting in Ethsharitic spoken in accents just like Azraya’s, telling each other obscene anecdotes. When they spotted the travelers they broke off the conversation long enough to collect two coppers, and then ignored the threesome thereafter.

Once aground again, Kelder hesitated; Irith was nowhere in sight, and although she had told him the inn was just the other side of the low ridge ahead he could see nothing of it. It might be farther than he had hoped, and Ezdral was in a stupor and on the verge of total collapse. “You two go on ahead,” he said, despite misgivings about sending a sick old drunkard and a child alone in the dark. “I’ll wait here for Irith.”

“I could wait,” Asha offered.

Kelder considered; leaving a child alone in the dark wasn’t any better, and might be worse.

Before he could answer, though, Irith called, “Here I am!”

Kelder turned to see her walking up a narrow path that descended from the bridge’s entrance to the river. Even in the dim glow of the torches he could see that she was soaked, her long hair hanging in ropes down her back, her white tunic drenched and clinging heavily to her body.

That was very interesting to look at, from Kelder’s point of view, as the garment was almost transparent when wet, but he saw that it was also obviously cold and uncomfortable, and he helped her up the stone step that linked the path to the highway.

“What happened?” he asked. “I thought your clothes changed with you.”

“They do,” she said. “I feel dumb.”

“Why?” Asha asked.

Irith snorted in annoyance, and Kelder felt her shivering.

“We can talk about it later,” he said. “Let’s get to the inn. Irith can dry off there, and we can all warm up.”

Nobody argued, and the four of them trudged up the hill, drops of water pattering from Irith’s clothes and hair. Kelder’s sleeve was saturated as well, where he had put his arm around her.

The hill was longer than it had initially appeared — Kelder had assumed that it was covered with sprouting grain, as the other bank of the river was, though he could not see any in the dark; he had figured that into his estimates. In fact, the ridge was covered with meadows, which meant it was higher than Kelder had estimated. Furthermore, the inn was not at the top but at the foot of the other side.

They did reach it eventually, and found their way around to the entrance, which was on the opposite side. Ezdral was more alert on the way than he had been in hours, obviously seriously concerned about Irith. It was clearly all he could do to keep from wrapping protective arms about her.

“Don’t you have a blanket, Kelder?” he asked, about halfway up the first slope.

Kelder cursed himself for his own stupidity and, without stopping, dug a blanket from his pack and wrapped it around the Flyer’s shoulders.

When they reached the door it was closed; a torch blazed in a bracket above it, but there was no signboard or other indication that the place was open for business. Light spilled out through cracks in the shutters, so it was obviously not deserted, but Kelder hesitated.

“Are you sure it’s an inn?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” Irith said. Without bothering to knock, she opened the door and stepped in.