Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [86]
“No doubt.” Evandar glanced away, back to the camp. “Now tell me, how is Ebañy? Still suffering from madness?”
“Yes, I'm afraid so. If anything, he's got worse since we saw you last. For a while he kept trying to run away to live naked in the hills like a wild man. My thanks to the Star Goddesses, though, because he got over that.”
Evandar winced. “Very bad indeed. Well, I haven't forgotten my promise to help you.”
“I can't tell you how grateful I am.”
“I'm not so sure I can bring the healer I had in mind to Bardek, is the problem. She's rather deeply involved in— well, let's just say in some grave matters in her homeland. But I may well be able to bring you and your man to the healer. I'll warn you, it will be a long journey.”
“Oh, my good sir!” Marka said with a little laugh. “We spend most of the year travelling. That won't be a hardship.”
“Indeed?” He considered her for a long moment. “Well, I'll hope it won't be when the time comes. If it comes—I warn you, I can't promise anything.”
“I understand. I'm grateful just for the hope you've brought us.”
“Very well, then. Now I'd best be off, to see what I can do.”
Evandar turned and walked briskly away. He'd travelled some ten paces when she realized that she couldn't see him anymore. He was gone, like a pattern in smoke caught by a gust of wind. Marka felt her skin turn cold. Gooseflesh rose all along her arms and neck. With a little gasp she turned and ran back to the camp, where firelight and human warmth beckoned.
When he left Marka, Evandar returned to his own country, which lay far beyond the physical world in those fluid reaches of the universe that dweomermasters term the astral plane. Some thousands of years past, as men and elves reckon time, he had made the image of a country for the wandering souls of his people, just as he had created images of bodies for them to wear. To please them he had created green meadows and rolling hills, beautiful gardens and the images of cities. For thousands of years they had lived in their image of paradise, safe from Time, free from the round of death and birth. But now his people had chosen to be born in the physical world. Without them, the land mourned.
On the brown lawn the tatters of a golden pavilion lay strewn. The dead grass stretched down to a river that oozed with silvery mud. Like rusty sword blades water reeds lay clotted in the shallows. Once Evandar had been able to come to this river to hear omens whispering in the reeds and see glimpses of the future in its clear-flowing water. Now—nothing. The images no longer bubbled to the surface, the voices spoke no more. The dead river oozed like a wound down to a sea turned russet, streaked with black masses of contagion.
With a shudder Evandar turned away from the river. He stretched out his arms, ran a few paces, then leapt into the air. As he leapt he changed, soaring on sudden wings. He called out in the harsh voice of a red hawk and flew, flapping hard to gain height. From his berth high on the wind he could see green meadows beyond his dead country, scattered with streams, dotted with trees. Beyond them, far on the horizon, lay a bank of roiling grey clouds. As he flew toward the mists, it seemed they rose up to meet him, blotting out the illusion of blue sky.
Evandar flew straight into the clouds, then laid back his wings and dove. Cool mist surrounded him as he plunged down. Suddenly, just below, he saw through the remnant of cloud a long stretch of grey stone. Just in time he pulled up and levelled off, flapping hard. Directly ahead stood a tree, green and in full leaf. Sitting under it, his back against the trunk, sat an old man with dark skin; he wore a shapeless robe of some coarse brown cloth. He was slicing an apple with an old knife, but as fast as he cut, the apple grew whole again. Evandar landed nearby and took back his elven form. The old man looked up and smiled.
“Back again, are you?” the old man said.
“I am, good sir. I have a question, if I may ask one.”
“You may, indeed, though I may not answer.”
“Fair enough.” Evandar sat