Days of Blood and Fire - Katharine Kerr [48]
Everything seemed peaceful, everything seemed safe, even when she circled out some miles. She saw no enemy soldiers, no ravens, no dweomerworkers, nothing or no one out of place. She decided that this other shape-changer, if indeed there were one, had to be flying for home and safety as fast as his or her wings could beat, wherever that home might be. Without the band of raiders for support, to carry its food and human clothing, the raven would be helpless in a wilderness. And where was that home? That, she hoped, Meer could tell her, or, at the least, give her the information she needed to discover it on her own. With a flip of a wing she turned, riding the night wind, heading back for the dun.
And yet, just as she had the town in sight, she saw something—someone—circling high above the walls, a bird form, all right, but far too large for an ordinary creature. As the other bird turned and began flying in her direction, Jill sprang higher, soaring in an easy circle to gain height and thus advantage. Yet, as the other mazrak flew close, she could see that it was no raven, but rather a strangely indeterminate gray bird, something like a linnet, but its feathers bore no markings at all Dallandra—come through to the physical plane in the bird form! Without thinking Jill stooped and plunged, plummeting straight down like the falcon her body indeed was. With a shriek of terror the gray linnet broke course and flapped wildly away, heading for a copse: Cursing her bad manners, Jill broke from her plunge and followed more slowly, though she could still outfly the clumsier linnet.
“Dalla, it’s just me!” Jill sent the words on a wave of etheric thought rather than sound. “My apologies! I didn’t mean to frighten you. The wretched falcon took me over for a moment.”
A wave of wordless relief floated back in answer.
Since the trees were far too small to shelter a pair of birds of their size, they circled down and lighted on the ground underneath, hopping a little to find footing on the uncongenial earth. The linnet shook herself and preened a few feathers on her breast to calm herself down.
“I am sorry,” Jill thought to her. “I somehow thought you’d recognize me.”
“You’re not the only master who flies in hawk form, you see. Alshandra’s been known to take the nighthawk at times.”
“Indeed? Is one of her other forms a raven?”
“It’s not, but a swan.”
“That’s a strange thing, then, because I’ve just heard of a shape-changer in raven form. A lad from the far west claims he saw it but an eightnight ago.”
“No one I know flies as a raven. Ye gods! Talk about ill-omened! That would be too grisly even for Alshandra.”
“Judging from some of the things I’ve heard I wouldn’t have put it past her. But here’s an even stranger thing, and thrice ill-omened at that — It seems that our Alshandra’s been pretending to be a god, and she’s collected herself a band of worshipers, too, among the Horsekin.”
The linnet opened and shut her beak a few times, just as if she were trying to speak with a physical voice.
“She would.” Dallandra’s thought flowed on a wave of sheer bitterness. “She’s just the sort who would. Jill, let’s fly. I can’t bear it, perching here and listening to sour news all at the same time.”
With a few hops and a jump they launched themselves into the air, flying till they were high enough to be invisible from the ground. Up this far from the anchoring earth, the etheric sight turned the night sky into a swirl of black, studded with enormous silver stars, flaring and gleaming so close that it seemed they might have felt heat. Down below the countryside receded to a dull red glow.