Masters of Fantasy Part 2

Expertise, because he wasn't dead.

He was trussed up, but hastily; evidently his captors trusted to the hit on the head to keep him quiet. And he was in darkness, because it was night, but he was also under a tarp draped between two bulky objects.

Around him were foreign noises, the rus.h.i.+ng and splas.h.i.+ng of water, sounds of creaking, the groaning of wood, men shouting. The air was damp and cool and smelled of open water.

At least they hadn't shoved him into the hold.Well, perhaps there wasn't any room in the hold. He was probably the least valuable object the raiders had taken.

Right. I'm on a s.h.i.+p, a captive, and- Only then did he realize that there was a conspicuous absence in his thoughts.-in trouble. I can't hear Vedalia.

He must be leagues away from the village, if he couldn't hear his Companion. Leagues away, and no

way for anyone to track him."-and I don' know what th' h.e.l.l ye wanted with the Herald!" someone said, just coming into earshot. "He's no good to us-a woman or a kiddie we could use, but him?"

"Look, if we kill him, we get more trouble than we can handle," said a second voice. "Kill one of them white-coats, and the rest never give up comin' after you!"

You've got that right, Alain thought-though what good that would do him if he was dead-"If we left him, G.o.ds only know what he'd manage to do-him or that horse. And G.o.ds know how close their people are. I thought, we take him, though, they won't dare come after us with everything they've got. Even if they got s.h.i.+ps ready to sail, you bet they'd hang back. They won't risk our killing him. If we held him till we were safe out of reach, I figured we stayed safe."

His heart plummeted and his spirit went cold. G.o.ds help me. Bandits who think."So now what?" asked the first voice, sounding a little mollified."We sail a little farther, we make sure there's nothing chasing us, then we dump him." The second voice sounded utterly indifferent. "We could probably get a ransom for him, but that'd put us in their reach again."

Alain felt his heart falter, and the panic he had been holding off until that moment rise up and seize him. He wanted to scream, but he could only whimper a little, a pathetic whine lost in the sounds the s.h.i.+p made. And inside, he began screaming silently-and futilely-for help. He couldn't help himself-it was an automatic reaction.

But he even as he shrieked at the top of his mental voice, some part of him despaired and knew it was useless. Maybe in the woods, even if there was no human with Mindspeech near enough to help, he could have summoned elk, a mountain-cat, wolves to his aid. But this was the vast water, with nothing in it but fish. Still his mind yammered as if anything that could help him was likely to hear him. . . .

:?: The response, faint as it was, stopped his mental gibbering in its tracks. :What?: he called back.:??: came the return-stronger! There was a sense of something he hadn't expected; behind that startled query was intelligence. Maybe enough to help him?He fought back pain and nausea and focused all of his strength behind something more coherent.:Help me! Please!: he Sent, and added overtones of his situation; easy enough to do since it was all very physical.

The response was not a single voice, but a chorus.

:Landwalker? Yes, Landwalker!: :Landwalker. Net-bound.: :Brother to Weeps-On-Sh.o.r.e.: :Captive to--: What followed was emotion, and senses, rather than words-a sense of something destructive, a taste of blood, and anger on the part of the speaker. Whatever these creatures were, they knew his captors, and they had no love for them.:Yes. They must not have him.::Enough. They must be stopped.::Call the Deep One.: :Yes! The Deep One will know! The Deep One will rid the face of the waters of them!: :Call the Deep One!: Well, it was very nice that they saw his enemies as their own, but they hadn't answered him. He chose this moment to insert his own plea.

:Please? Help me?: But at that moment, the tarp was ripped aside. He blinked up at four shadowed faces interposed between him and a star-filled sky.

Someone else, just out of sight, spoke. "Right. We're safe enough. Over the side with him."

Fear and nausea warred within him, but he had no time to react-four sets of hands seized shoulders and ankles, there was a moment of futile struggle as they heaved him up-

Then flying weightless through the air-just enough time for a last gulp of air- Then he hit the water like a stone.

He managed to keep his breath, and he sank for a moment, the cold water hitting him a blow that made

him choke back a gasp that would have lost him that precious breath. With bound hands and feet, disoriented in the black water, he thrashed, trying to find the surface, the air, the precious air, and not knowing where it was.

:We come, Walker!: Miraculously he was surrounded by large, fleshy bodies, warm, slick bodies that bore him suddenly up to the surface and held him there as he gasped for breath.

He couldn't see them-the moon must have set-so he had only the sense that they were larger than he was, slick and not scaly like a fish. As they thrust under his arms with oblong heads and long snouts, they used those rounded, bulbous heads to keep him afloat. Others went to work on the ropes tying his hands and feet. They had sharp teeth, too, in those snouts-they took it in turns to slice at his bonds, slicing into his hands, though he sensed apology every time tooth met flesh and he gasped with pain.

:It's all right,: he managed, and conveyed the sense that he would rather be free and wounded than bound and whole. He got amused concurrence and a renewed a.s.sault on his bonds. They must be the terror of the fish, these creatures; veritable wolves of the water.

Just as the final rope parted on his hands, there was a stirring among his rescuers, a rush of excitement.:The Deep One comes!: cried one voice, and then another-And suddenly he was alone in the water, paddling frantically. :Wait!: he called after them. :Wait, I don't-I can't-: :Peace, little Walker.: The Mindvoice was like none he had ever heard before; huge, deep, with a kind of echo. It swept through his mind and made him s.h.i.+ver and catch his breath, knowing in his bones he was in the presence of something-monumental.:Peace. Be still. I come.: He felt something, a pressure in the water beneath him, and then- Then something bigger than the biggest s.h.i.+p he had ever seen rose up beneath him like a floor. And he felt himself in a Presence.

:Yes, little Walker. I uphold you. Well for you that you cannot see me, else your fear would make a dumb beast of you, and render you lawful prey. . . . : It had the same sort of slick, resilient hide as the others had, this creature whose back held him, supported him, in just a few thumb-breadths of water. He couldn't see anything of it, but the sense of something so huge he couldn't even imagine it held him silent.

:So, tell me, Walker-On-Land, what is it that should cause the Bright Leapers to come to your aid and call upon me?: :I don't know, my lord,: Alain said humbly. :I just-asked for help.::Just asked for help. Never has a Walker asked help of us. Perhaps that is reason enough. But what of these others?: The Mindvoice lost its sense of amus.e.m.e.nt, and Alain s.h.i.+vered again. :The Leapers say that they must be stopped. Their tree-float tastes of blood and pain, their minds of ravening. I know what they have done to the Leapers-but what else have they done to their own kind?: As briefly as possible, Alain outlined to the vast creature beneath his hands just what it was that the

raiders had done, and he felt an anger as enormous as creature itself slowly rousing.

:So. Bad enough to make war, but those who make it upon the infant and the aged . . . the wisdom of the

people and the hope. . . . : A pause. :Yes. I can see. But this is between you and your kind, and although I wish to follow the wishes of the Leapers, I must have a price from you.: :A price?: It didn't matter; whatever it wanted, it could have, if it would put an end to these marauding bandits. :Is it-: he gulped. :-me you want, oh Lord of the Deep?: The surface beneath his hands vibrated; in a moment, he recognized it as laughter. :No, little Walker, be you ever so tasty, you are too n.o.ble for my eating. Besides, I would not cause the Weeper-On-The- Sh.o.r.e, your White Spirit-Brother, to dissolve in grief. No. Before I act in the affairs of Walkers . . . a vow from you, Walker, brother to the White Spirit. That you reveal me to no one. Ever.: :You have it,: he promised, not entirely sure why this creature wanted it, nor what he was exchanging the vow for, but willing enough to give it. :None shall know. Not even my Companion.: :Then I shall act.: He felt the great bulk beneath him begin to move, felt it rise until he was completely out of the water. He balanced on this hill of flesh, and the air of its pa.s.sing flowed around him, chilling him so that he s.h.i.+vered. The resilient flesh beneath him undulated slowly.

Lights appeared on the horizon, lights too yellow and unwinking to be stars.

They were lanterns, lanterns hung on the rail of the s.h.i.+p that had taken him and on its sister-s.h.i.+ps in the raiding fleet. Swiftly as these s.h.i.+ps sailed, the creature beneath Alain was faster. Now he sensed other minds around him, the minds of the smaller creatures that had initially been his rescuers. They exchanged no words, only feelings of excitement and some of the same anger that the greater creature felt. And with that came glimpses of the cause of that anger-the wanton slaughter of these creatures by the men of the swift, agile s.h.i.+ps.

:Stay with the Leapers, Walker, and observe.: The bulk that supported him slipped from beneath him, plunging him into the water again as it disappeared. But before he could panic, the others were around him, one under each outstretched arm. And before the s.h.i.+p sailed away from where they waited in the water, something black and terrible surged up out of the waves beside it- -and crashed down on it before the few sailors manning the sails and tiller had a chance to do more than register the presence of something beside them.

The s.h.i.+p disintegrated with a horrible sound of shattering timber and the screams of the men aboard. The men on the other s.h.i.+ps had that much warning-enough to know their doom, not enough to avoid it. Again and again, the huge bulk leapt from the waves and smashed down on their s.h.i.+ps, splintered them as a wanton child would splinter a toy, but with anger no child could ever feel.

How many died instantly, how many were left to flounder in the water he would never find out, for the smaller swimmers left him again and the huge one rose beneath him and carried him quickly away. :There are more of them yet, clinging to bits of their tree-floater, but I will hunt tonight, Walker,; said the voice with grim satisfaction. :When you are safe I shall return, and oh, I shall dine well . . . so remember your vow.: :I will,: he pledged fervently, with a shudder, and felt the creature's amus.e.m.e.nt.

:Come. I hunger. The sooner the Leapers can take you ash.o.r.e, the sooner I may feed.: Again the huge bulk rose out of the water with him atop it, and sped-in what direction? He could not tell. He could only cling to it as best he could, exhausted, cold, s.h.i.+vering, aching in head and limb, and hope this thing that had spoken of dining on men would take him home.

And yet-and yet- He was afraid of it-but it was more respect than fear.

:Speak with me, Walker. Tell me of your life. I have never met one who could Speak to my thoughts, and I have lived long . . . long.: So throughout that long night, that strange journey, he spoke with the unseen creature that bore him. It was not ignorant of the ways of humans, but Heralds and Companions were new and fascinating to it. He came to understand that it was his despised Gift of Animal Mindspeech that had saved him; the creature could hear the strong thoughts of others, but imperfectly. Only Alain had ever been able to converse with it, and with the ones called the Bright Leapers.

Gradually, respect entirely replaced fear- Though he did not forget what it intended to do when it returned to the shattered wrecks to hunt. And he was torn; the men were guilty of murder, robbery, rapine-and certainly their lives would have been forfeit had their fate come upon them from the hands of Selenay's Guard. But to be devoured after candlemarks of terror, floating on the face of the water- :Their fate is what it will be. Perhaps they will drown before I return; drowned or living, they will serve me well. It is neither you, nor I, to whom they must answer for their deeds. I do but send them quickly to that judgment.: There was nothing he could say to that; and in the end, perhaps this was no worse than imprisonment,

perhaps a trial, and in the end, the axe or rope. . . .

:But the dawn is near, and so is the sh.o.r.e,: the creature continued. :No Walker has yet seen me, nor shall they-not those who I let live, at least. I go to hunt; the Leapers will see you to your friends.: There was a sense of a smile in its Mindvoice. :Begin to call when I leave you, so that your Spirit-Brother will cease to lament. His weeping tears at my heart even now.:

The creature slowed and stopped, and slowly submerged, dropping him again into the water. A moment later, it was gone-it could probably swim faster under the water than above it, and had only kept to the surface for his benefit. The water felt warm after the chill of wet garments in rus.h.i.+ng air; the Bright Leapers were soon around him, holding him up.

:Move your limb from out the dead-skin you wear, so we can take it in our mouths and pull you,: said one. After a moment he puzzled out that they meant him to pull his hands and arms up into his sleeves so they could take the ends in their mouths. He did as they asked, and soon they were towing him between two of them, with the others swimming alongside, occasionally leaping into the air, apparently just for the sheer exuberance of living. Remembering what the Deep One had said, he began to MindCall Vedalia. And as the sky before them grew light, and the water reflected it back in dull silver, he heard Vedalia answer.

What pa.s.sed between them was too deep for words, and he was glad to be towed and not swimming, for

he couldn't have swum and wept at the same time.

And as the sun itself appeared on the horizon, it seemed that the Leapers were not going to have to take him to sh.o.r.e after all, for there were boats coming to meet them-and although Vedalia could not have fit in them, Sted was in the prow of the foremost, his white uniform s.h.i.+ning in the early light.

The Leapers-he saw now that they looked like fish, but with sleek, brown hides, merry eyes, and mouths frozen into a perpetual grin-now made good their name, for all those who surrounded the two who towed him flung themselves into the air in graceful arcs. From the distant boats a cheer arose, made faint by distance-and by the water in his ears, perhaps.

He grayed-out for a moment-it was a good thing that his caretakers were competent and kept him from

drowning-for when he came to himself, there were two bright-eyed heads holding him up, with his arms across what might have been their necks if they'd had such a thing. And the foremost boat was coming alongside. Many hands reached down to haul him aboard, which was a good thing, because now that he was safe, the last of his energy ran out, and he felt as weak as a newborn kitten.

But he was not so exhausted that he didn't notice the fishermen bowing to the Bright Leapers, and calling out their thanks as he was hauled aboard. "You know these creatures?" he said, surprised. "They are the Wave-Wise," said one of the fishermen, wrapping a rough woolen blanket about his shoulders. "Some say they are the spirits of those of us who drowned and never came home to be buried on land. We never molest them, and if one should be tangled in a net, we cut the net to let him free. Better to lose a catch than drown a brother."

:Deep-Speaker!: one called, bobbing with its head above the water, making a chattering sound and nodding as it MindSpoke. :Tell your friends that we know where the Netted Ones are, and we will guide them there!: The Netted Ones? The kidnapped women?:Yes! Yes! And now the Deep One feeds, there are none to keep them netted!: "Dear G.o.ds-" he grabbed the fisherman by the collar. "Listen-your Wave-Wise are wiser than you guess! They say they know where the women and children are that were stolen away, and will guide you there!"

Pandemonium broke out among the boats, as the Bright Leapers cavorted and word pa.s.sed from vessel to vessel. All wanted to go, but the crew of the boat that held Sted and Alain reluctantly agreed to turn back with them.

Then, and only then, did Alain lie back, his s.h.i.+vering easing, a flask of some herb cordial that Sted had pressed into his hand, sheer exhaustion flattening him against the support of rope and blankets that Sted had rigged for him.

Sted, who spoke but seldom, had been babbling ever since he was brought aboard out of sheer relief.

Since most of what he was saying had been variations on "Thank the G.o.ds you're safe!" Alain hadn't paid a lot of attention.

Now, though- "Vedalia said you were rescued by those fish-or whatever they are," Sted was saying."Not fish-I s'ppose they must be something like a Pelagiris-creature, a kyree or whatever," Alain replied, hoping he sounded as exhausted as he felt. "They said the only reason they could hear me, and I could hear them, was my Gift.""But how did you get away?" Sted asked.Alain tried to laugh and coughed instead, taking a sip of the cordial. "I didn't. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds only kept me long enough to be sure you weren't chasing them with boats full of Guards. Then they tossed me overboard. But I'd been yelling like a scared baby, and the-they call themselves Bright Leapers-the Bright Leapers heard me." He held out his wrists so Sted could see the cuts from their teeth. "Got the ropes off, then towed me back. I suppose I was rescued for the novelty of listening to me talk while I was brought back as much as anything else. I got the impression that these water-creatures, the intelligent ones, spend a lot of their time just-playing, learning, being curious. So much for the honor and glory of being a Herald! My real value seems to have been that I could tell a good story!"

He might be exhausted, but he was choosing his words very carefully. He was telling the exact truth, just

not all of it . . . and as long as he stuck to the exact truth, Sted was not likely to wonder what he was trying to hide.

Sted chuckled, and so did the fisherman nearest them, the man at the tiller. "We've always honored the Wave-Wise, but if they bring us to the captives, they'll be getting a share of our catches from now on,"

the fisherman said. "As for stories, I expect you'll be tired of telling this one long before anyone gets tired of hearing it. There've been other tales of the Wave-Wise rescuing fisherfolk, but never like this one."

"And I fervently hope there never is again," Alain said emphatically. "I pray that no one ever meets the sort of things I did last night."

He closed his eyes and Sted's urging, and felt consciousness rapidly slipping away. But-did he hear the far-off echo of an appreciative-and sated-chuckle at that last?

:No, of course not.: :Of course not,: he agreed, and slept.

Earthborne

A Witchworld Story.

Andre Norton Mereth drew a deep breath. Breezes here were still ice kissed, though this cup of land was well beneath those mountain walls, which formed its confines. She pulled her heavy cloak closer and secured its throatlatch before freeing Mage Ruther's experimental distance see-all. Mereth never ceased to wonder at its ability to draw into her vision things that lay far away. If this tool had only been available in the days of the invasion- It seemed, she thought, that nowadays minds were proving sharper. Knowledge, either long forgotten or newly discovered, advanced steadily from one sunrise to another. It was almost as if the constant alerts, necessary before the Warding, having now vanished, had opened the way for the flouring of learning. Mereth did not, of course, accept the suggestion that a Golden Age had come to Estcarp and her own High Hallack. No, when the Gates, known or secret, had drawn captives from many far sources to people this long-mixed world-Estcarp, Arvon, High Hallack, Karstan, Escore-evil had come, nonetheless, twinned with good.

Gone were the Gates-yes-but though the Dark might not feed its forces here now, it had not yet shrunk to nothingness. Behind her now, within the near-repaired walls of Lormt, more than a score of scholars engaged in research, eager to recover any hint of what might rise to threaten again. Towers, brought low by the Dance of the Mountains, were now near restored. However, beneath the ancient floors of those venerable storehouses of knowledge, long-hidden rooms had burst open to be explored by the then few, reclusive inhabitants. Newcomers, sages of high learning, had flocked in. The efforts of at least three quarters of the Lormt dwellers were now bent toward this exploration and were being repaid-mainly with- She lifted again the far-seer, held it to her right eye and turned it down slope. There appeared movement now, which in this near-deserted country might herald a visitor-one of those seeking to trace war-tossed kin, raider scout, or homeless wanderer?

Peering so through her new tool, Mereth saw straightly enough. What leapt into instant view was a gaunt villager garbed in rags. It was the shepherdess she had observed warding a tiny flock of bedraggled sheep a day gone. To the woman's eye, skilled through years in merchanting, the pitifully thin mottled creatures rated of the poorest quality. Such faded, ragged wool would bring scarcely half a glance in the past from the factors at Ferndale Warehouse.

The distant village girl rounded a rock and then half stumbled against the stone as if unable to stand erect. Mereth gained her feet with the aid of her long staff, thrust the far-seer into a belt loop and headed down the hill. She had made no mistake in reading the expression of abject horror that had grimaced that narrow face.

Being a mute, Mereth could not call out, nor did she appear to possess any of the Old Talent of mind-touch. Suddenly her feet struck something slick in the sprouting gra.s.s and she dug in her staff just in time to prevent herself from falling.

The shepherdess's head jerked up and she looked directly at Mereth, terror still etched on her features.

She screamed and lurched away from the rock, running, not toward Mereth, but away.

Mereth was not close enough to bar the girl's way with her staff and had to steady herself, once more