Chapter 3 - Between Dreams and Truth



Jana had no way of knowing how far the mare had run, only that the time had felt an eternity, with the wind tearing at her hair and her heartbeat echoing in her ears. The moonlight shining off the paving stones and dancing in amongst the tree branches had given the ride an ethereal quality, a night of dreaming come alive to travel the road beside her. Vixen's flying gallop hadn't lasted long. She'd been traveling at a more sedate pace for the majority, more of a fast canter then a true run. Jana hadn't untangled her fingers from the mare's mane until she slowed further still, picking up the smooth oddly broken-up trot she favored. Her hands were cramped from holding on so tightly, bloody in a few places where the coarse hair had bitten deeply into the finger joints. It took a few tries to get her fingers to uncurl and resume their full range of motion. She could already feel the slow burn beginning in her low back and thighs, giving her a taste of the misery she was going to be in for tomorrow. She'd been twelve the last time she rode bareback, the muscles she had built up in the saddle since then not quite translating over as well as she had hoped.

Vixen slowed again, moving into a long-strided walk. Jana risked a grasp at the dangling line still hanging down from the halter. The mare's head moved around more at this gait than any other, rising and dipping in time to her strides. This did not make Jana's task any easier, and the line slipped away with each try. Maybe she leaned all the way over the mare's neck...success! She swung down without letting go of the rope, settling into a brisk walk beside the mare without the Vixen's stride ever breaking. Jana had to hobble the first few steps - her knees weren't quite sure about whether they were going to work or not- but her aches were bearable, quickly settling into background noise.

The night was unnaturally still, no night-birds or bugs calling out for love or challenges. She missed the crickets' chirps, but not the birds. She'd used to love the sound of birdsong when she was still a little, imagining the males as master bards wooing their ladyloves with great ballads and love poems. Her great-uncle had burst that bubble when she was ten, and she'd never been able to hear the sound since without thinking back to his lecture on how they were just telling each other Stay Away! My Tree! Get Your Own!' . With most things in life, the fantasy tended to be better then the reality. Take great journeys as a good example. No one ever talked about fleas and loose bowels in the epic tales, and she'd yet to see a blistered arse mentioned in a novel. Jana was of the firm opinion that there would be far fewer cases of children leaving home for adventure if bards would add a few pertinent details to the grand stories they composed.

She was lost in imagining the details of what would take place should she ever encounter a bard (Now, look here, she would say, complete with wagging finger, your hero has been on the road a month, and he hasn't lost his horse once and has yet to sicken himself with his own bad cooking! How realistic is that?) and it took a few seconds before she realized that she'd been spoken to.

:: Janaveris :: The stone's voice was soft, the sort of whisper you used to coax a kitten down from the loft timbers.

Jana set her jaw and continued walking, letting her mind follow inconsequential paths. Past experience had taught her that it made it difficult for the stone to stay with her thoughts when they ambled so. She had liked the shade of red that barkeep had been wearing in Kettlesmith, perhaps she could find a bolt of the cloth before she left the country. And the Miller's apprentice at the inn before last - now there was a lad to make you think about settling down! Such pretty blue eyes, and his bottom-!

:: Janaveris! :: It's tone was sharper now, stopping just short of causing pain. :: You will not ignore me! ::

You've been quiet for near on nine months. Why talk now? The urge to just rip the thrice-damned thing from around her neck was overwhelming at times, and she forced her hand to stay put on the lead rope, shoving the other one into the waistband of her britches. She'd tried that once at the beginning, with two weeks in the Healer's bed to show her the extent of her folly. She wouldn't be free until the thing was dead, and how did you kill someone who had no body?

:: There is danger in this place. You must leave Valdemar with haste. :: It's mind-voice carried worry about it's own well-being. That was an interesting change from the norm.

Danger to me or danger to you? she asked, wondering how much detail she would be able to get out of the stone. It tended towards cryptic comments and riddles, when it spoke at all.

:: Danger to one is danger to all. You must leave::

She had a small smile on her lips, the sort that Huntsman Jal always said preceded disaster. The rune stone was afraid. There was something here that could harm it. This country is growing more appealing by the minute. No, I don't believe I will.

+


No wonder we never knew about this, Tess said, voice tinged with awe. The three Heralds stood grouped along the outside of a clearly delineated circle, a half dozen farmer-folk watching their reactions from the far side.

The boy had led them a goodly ways down the road, then off onto rambling paths through the woods, trails so narrow and overgrown that even the horses had to duck a few times. Once they'd reached the farmstead the boy's father took over, leading them along another several miles worth of the same trails. Caer had faired the best of the lot, with only a few small scratches on her face. Poor Treyon looked as though he'd just challenged an entire merc company to a bar brawl, and she would have bet Tess was regretting all the extra sweets she had been dining on lately.

There wasn't any question of where Valdemar ended and the change-circle began. Even after so many years the dividing line was as sharp as saw-cut wood. On one side, evergreen briar-berry bushes, goldenoaks and the sweet-smelling saddlewood trees that were so common in these southern areas. On the other, a scene straight from the Pelagirs. Rotten smelling flowers that turned to follow the movement of the mage-light Treyon sent out, sickly looking bushes that glowed with a faint luminescence in the moonlight. There was only one tree in the large circle, a blackened dead thing that harbored a cave entrance under it's partially exposed roots.

That then was the answer to at least one of their questions. The entrance was large enough that Caer would barely have to stoop to enter, and Tess had counted to six hundred and twenty-eight before the mage-light Treyon sent in returned. The cave the tree protected had to be massive, and there was a good chance that there was a water supply hidden away somewhere in it's depths.

There were seven pairs of boots near the edge of the circle. Plain and tough, they were of the style the working class bought most often. The leather was starting to rot but it was still clear that they'd been pulled off without being unlaced, one still holding half of a moldy woolen sock. As if perhaps the feet they had covered were no longer large enough to hold them on, and wasn't that a dreadful thought! Seven pairs of tracks led out of the circle and to the north, the best tracker among the farmers claiming that one led and the rest fanned out behind. Caer could see where they had broken through the underbrush, one of the men having pulled a small bit of light brown fur from a broken bush near the prints They were as the boy described, looking like a cat's paw would if you had a way to make it nearly two handspans long and half as wide.

What ye reckon we should be doing bout this mess, The farmers had grown impatient with the prolonged silence, shifting from foot to foot and stomping their boots to keep their feet warm. It was cold, and this place carried ill tidings. Caer could sympathize with their desire to return home.

You've been a greater help then anyone could have been expected to be, she said, letting her smile alight on each man in turn, and I'll see that you are rewarded for this news. It's too dark to take any action now, but we will see that the appropriate people are notified about this and action taken by morning

:: That's moren likely the fanciest talk these folks have ever eard, :: Tess teased, her mind-voice taking on a heavy farmer's accent, 'an' I think that short fella fancies you more'n he does his best mule. Lookit! He gots new boots! That's a fine catch of a man, he is. :: Caer could see' a picture of her bondmate dressed up like a farmer's wife as she spoke, leaning up against a fence post with hands planted on thick hips. ::I be willin' ta share, iffin' you picked up a fine man like that un. ::

Caer had to fight to keep her face straight, and she could hear Melli's laughter echoing in the back of her mind. :: You are horrid, do you know that? Horrid! And I wonder why Mother fainted when I introduced you! ::

Tess merely winked at her, and Treyon didn't do as good a job as he thought he had with hiding his snicker behind a cough. He didn't have to know what was said to interpret that look on Tess's face, he'd been at the end of her humor himself enough times to simply know.

The farmers nodded and called out their good-byes, disappearing back into the words as silently as foxes slipping away in the night. Including the short fellow with the rabbit teeth, pockmarked face and new pair of boots. Fine catch indeed! Their families would have the fires stoked, warm food ready on the tables as they waited for the menfolk to return. Caer almost wished she could go back with them. She had a long ride to look forward to, and no doubt a round of questioning before she was allowed to slip off into bed. People would need to be informed about this, then told over again to make sure they caught every detail. It could be candlemarks before everyone was satisfied with her reports.

Treyon's sudden coughing fit brought her back from her woolgathering. He was more sensitive to the weather then either her or Tess, his thin clothing and thinner frame not helping matters. Heralds had a harsh life, and it took its toll on the old man despite the care the others took to ease his burden whenever possible. He'd put in twenty years of work as an accounting scribe in Haven before Dertrin showed up outside his door one brisk fall morning. The Companion had rapped neatly on the glass-paned door with one hoof before walking right on into the tiny office, as nonchalant as if he did this sort of thing every year at tax collecting time. One of the Bardic trainees had composed a little ditty about the Companion who went to get his tax-share added up and found his Chosen instead, singing it for the first time at the Compass Rose three days after Treyon put on his first set of grays. It had become an instant hit, and Caer doubted there was anyone left in Haven who didn't know Treyon's story by now.

His had become a fairly common story now anyway, as more and more older trainees came in who had mage gift in addition to their other talents. Almost as though the Companions had been waiting until magic (weak as it was for the time being) returned to Valdemar to Choose them. Melli and Gavin had both laughed at her when she'd voiced that suspicion, but she held to it none the less. There was much the Companions shared with their Heralds, but even more they held back.

Tess led the three back along the thin trails they had come down, taking the lead since neither Caer or Treyon could remember whether the first turn they came to was a right, or a left - or did they go straight? Tess seemed to have the whole thing mapped out in her head, or perhaps Gavin did. The three emerged back onto the road without having taken a single wrong turn, and the Companions picked up a steady ground-eating canter towards the north.


*


It was dark out. This, Jana told herself, was a silly thing to be worrying over. It was night. Of course it was dark out. It had been dark out after sundown for every night of her life, and she'd spent plenty of time alone in strange places in the dark without ever giving it a second thought.

But tonight was different. It had been fine when the trees were set back from the road, and she'd had a clear view of what lay around her. But the farther she walked the closer the trees came, until they touched the edge of the pave-stones and stretched their branches out to touch those of the trees across the way. This was the perfect setup for an ambush, and she doubted she'd be as blessed as she'd been for the first attack. Moonlight illuminated, but not to the degree firelight did. Cat's eyes wouldn't catch the moonlight unless they were foolish enough to look up, and the creatures back at the camp hadn't seemed foolish. If Vixen hadn't freed herself, if Jana had been forced to go to her, and untie the mare with hands made clumsy by fear.... She didn't know if she would have been food or sport, or perhaps both, but she had no doubt that the things' intentions were evil. Just the wrongness of them was testament of that.

Vixen walked quietly beside her, too tired to cause a fuss even if she wanted to. Jana kept the short tie rope wrapped around her right hand. Better to be dragged then to be stuck on foot with monsters stalking the night. Vixen's sweat had soaked through Jana's britches, and the insides of her thighs itched enough to drive her out of her mind. She scratched as best she could with her left hand, and sent a silent prayer of thanks up to the heavens for the deserted road. She wasn't sure what someone would think if they were to come up on a young girl walking spraddle-legged down the road with her hand between her thighs!

Both girl and horse jumped when a branch broke nearby. Vixen snatched her head up, making Jana stretch her arm out to it's fullest to stay with her, and the mare's ears swiveled back. Jana looked behind them, but couldn't see anything, so she watched Vixen for any further signs of distress. She didn't have to wait long.

Even being semi-prepared, she was still yanked off her feet when Vixen lunged forward. Jana cursed, grabbed a fold of loose skin at the base of the mare's neck, and twisted. Hard. It was enough to make Vixen hesitate, and Jana grabbed a handful of mane and jumped up. She landed belly down across the mare's back, but she'd overcompensated and tipped right off the other side. Her head bounced off the frozen ground hard enough to make the world dim and waver, up no longer distinguishable from down. The sound of Vixen's retreating hoof beats was loud in her ears, each step resonating within her like the tolling of the temple bell on a funeral day.

It took her two tries to get off of the ground. Everything seemed to be in working order, but her parts were moving as slowly as wagon wheels left overnight in a freeze, and she wasn't able to move her arms quickly enough to save herself when she tipped forward. She was going to be in a sorry state come morning, if she lived that long. Snow was crunching under a steady stride, something man-size walking through the trees towards her. She could just catch the slightest hint of another behind it. She wavered a bit once she'd gained her feet, but steadied herself.

She didn't bother to run. Why should she? Where was she to go? She stood with her shoulders thrown back and her face set, determined to meet her end with as much dignity as she could muster. If she couldn't quite seem to catch her breath, if her hands were trembling even worse then the rest of her; well, those couldn't be helped. Only fools and madmen never feel fear, Huntsman Jal had said, and the true test of courage is not in denying that you are afraid but in accepting that you are and continuing on regardless.

The first was nearly to her now, its steps slowing after it realized she wasn't going to run. The second was coming closer, the rest of the group starting to emerge from the trees. They were pretty, in the same twisted way that a wyrsa was elegant, a change-lion magnificent. The wrongness of the creatures couldn't take that away from them.

They looked as though someone had taken a house-cat and used it as a base to make a person, changing the dimensions but not the basic shape. While the legs were the right size, with upper and lower portions that kept human proportions, the knees bent the wrong way and they walked on their toes with heels kept well in the air. Their arms fit the same pattern, hanging farther forwards off the shoulder than seemed right, with stubby fingers and flattened paw pads being the only part that wasn't pure cat. They wore no clothes, but the fur that covered them was heavy enough to disguise their sex regardless.

She felt the tugging on the edge of her awareness that signaled the stone's attempt to take over, and resisted it, reinforcing the barrier that kept it out.

:: Fool! :: the stone shrieked into her mind. :: Foolish, dimwitted girl! Is it worth your death? You will burn in the deepest level of Hell for your deeds. Burn! Do you truly believe She will care one wit that you were coerced? He died by your hand! That is all that will matter! :: Pain flared in her temples, but was kept at bay the same way a pinched arm distracted from a leg being stitched up. The fear she felt was overwhelming, not allowing any room for other sensation.

The first creature came to a stop, standing only a horse-length short of her. It studied her as intently as she did it, tufted ears twitching back and forth while the overly-large slitted eyes roamed up her body and then back down again. It smiled, revealing a row of tiny needle-like teeth within it's short muzzle. The trembling in Jana's chest grew worse. The others spread out to form a circle as they arrived, coming one by one until seven stood around her. They didn't seem to notice the cold, even though ice coated their upper lips from the moisture in each breathe.

Bad girl, to run away. Very bad indeed.

One behind her spoke, and Jana recognized the same raspy voice from earlier. It spoke slowly, a slight pause between each word. Something soft touched the back of her neck, and she flinched away by instinct.

Horrible, aren't we? said another. Too horrible to be given any courtesy. They turn us away, call us monsters. They think they are better, with their smooth skin and clever hands.

The rest rumbled an agreement, the one behind her reaching out again to tug on Jana's braid.

Pretty, was I. Pretty, very pretty. It yanked the braid with inhuman strength, pulling Jana off her feet. She landed on her rump in the show, then was pushed down harshly to lay on her back. The one that had pulled her down put a foot across her throat so that she could not rise, then bent down until she could smell the rotted meat smell of its breathe, folding itself with the skill of a tumbler in a traveling show. You should not be pretty if I cannot be. It flexed one hand, and Jana whimpered as claws slipped free of their sheathes. They were long and dark, gleaming in the dim light.

No, not yet. The largest one spoke sharply when Jana's captor would have brought its claws across her face. The big tawny one seemed to be the leader, in any case the pressure on her throat eased slightly and the claws disappeared from her field of view. Keep her breathing for a little more, then you may play.

Tears leaked to trickle down her cheeks despite her best efforts, and a furred finger wiped them away with a rough chuckle. Good. You should be afraid. You'll be screaming before we be done, sweet screaming.

I don't want to die! She sobbed silently, unable to hold back any longer. She'd expected to meet her end at the gallows, or by her own hand when the the running became too much to bear. But this! She'd done nothing to these creatures, done nothing but pick a camp spot for the night. The sheer randomness of the situation made her want to scream and berate the Heavens. Make it somebody else! Somebody did this, somebody deserves this punishment! Not me, please not me. It's not fair! There was a sudden warmth between her legs, and she sobbed all the harder with the humiliation of knowing she'd just wet herself.

:: Fair? :: The stone laughed, a sound like a broken wheel-spoke grating against the cobblestones. :: Not too late to save yourself, little fool. ::

No! It would be wrong. No.... but... I don't want to die.

The stone had been flesh once, but it would be a stretch to say that it had ever been human. No human could have done what she did, not without going insane from the remorse and guilt of it, not gone without seeing a double image of the blood that had dripped from her hands every time she looked down. Any tattered remains of humanity that had existed had been discarded along with the crippled shell of a body when the mage moved her spirit into the pendent. Jana couldn't think of it as a her anymore, not when she was nothing but a stone around her neck. But when given a body...then it was Jess once more, and she was as terrible as anything that had ever left footprints on this world. It wasn't just giving up control of herself that Jana dreaded. It was what Jess did with that control. And Jana would have no say in what was done, no way to reclaim herself. Jess would give Jana her body back when she felt like it, and not a moment sooner. If she was stronger, or Jana weaker, then she would not have to give the body back ever, a fact that often haunted Jana's dreams. It would be bad enough to simply wake up and know that you had done evil, but she would see every last second go by, feel everything that was done. Including the pleasure Jess took in killing, which was the worst thing of all, even over and above the screams of the dying.

But Jana did not want to add her own name to the tally of the dead, Bright Lady forgive her for her vanity and selfishness. If the Goddess had any mercy for her at all, it would at least be hands doing the killing, not teeth and claws. Jess would drive her mad if it could, to make her mind flee and leave a young body for herself. It seemed that she had already discovered the best way to go about that.

:: You are already damned, girl. What is there to loose? ::

My soul. But it is already tarnished beyond repair, and a worthy trade for my life.
She found the stone wall' that stood in the back of her head, the one Great-Uncle had shown her how to build so long ago. At the far end was a gate, with a rusty iron hinge. An exact mirror of the gate to Mother's garden in the keep, and the irony of that symbolism never failed to escape her. With one strong push, she swung the gate open and let the stone have access to her power, and to her body.

Awareness shifted, and Jana was thrust into the background, to watch events unfurl as a spectator and not a player. It was disconcerting as always, she'd have vomited if her body was still under her control.

Jess laughed softy as she extended her new senses, taking a thrill from it as she always did. She was stuck looking through Jana's eyes while she remained in her self-inflicted prison, and while the brat had mage potential her lack of knowledge and experience made her skip across things that Jess recognized as being worth a second look, such as nodes as ley-lines. This place was weak, as all were since the magic-bred storms that had ravaged the world. Where ley-lines once flowed strong only the merest trickle of power remained, ground wet by a light mist as opposed to a flash flood. It was enough for Jess, as she had other ways of gathering power.

Jess snapped the neck of the one holding her down, rolling back and flipping to her feet in one smooth move. She caught he cat's life force as it left the body, weaving it into her shields and holding some of it aside for other use. You couldn't get much from such a quick death, nothing like what she could accomplish given a proper amount of time and the right tools, but it supplanted the meager ley-lines nicely.

She was in a fighting crouch before the body even hit the snow, the power that flowed freely through her giving her muscles and tendons strength that even a horse would envy. It didn't hurt that the brat was keeping herself fit now, such an improvement over last time when she'd been unable to draw a horse bow or keep grip on a sword. The rest of the creatures were dumbstruck, staring at her as though she was some demon that had just shed it's skin and reveled itself. Which in a way, wasn't all that inaccurate of a description.

Here kitty, kitty, she called, giving Jana's voice a knife edge it never would have possessed otherwise. Didn't kitty want to play? Well, play!

Two went down in a ball of flame, screaming as they writhed on the quickly melting snow. The flames burned white and blue, the magic fueling them making them hotter than any natural fire could be. Another shattered like broken glass. Blood and bits of flesh went flying, and she had to wipe a gob of fat off of her chin. The other three were fleeing towards the tree line, abandoning all pretenses of humanity to run on all fours with their tails tucked in between their legs like kicked dogs.

She hesitated for a second, unsure of what path to take. Kill them from a distance, or....? So many lovely possibilities! The girl so rarely let her have a body to play with, and it had been a pitifully long time since she'd enjoyed the pleasures of flesh. It was just so much more fulfilling to do things by hand. As quickly as the question had come up in her mind, it was solved. She could have her sport, and further her plans as well. And after all, it wasn't her mind that was put at risk.

There was a trick to changing forms, and it was more a matter of believing you could do it than of having any great power. And if you happened to have both going for you, it wasn't any effort at all. Flesh shifted, bones melting and reforming. Hands became paws in the time it took to fall forward, even white teeth becoming yellowed fangs. Jana screamed silently from her vantage point as her awareness shifted along with her body, the curse of shape shifting. A purely animal mind could not hold human thoughts, and it was all too easy to forget that she had ever walked on two legs. With each shift it was harder and harder to twist her mind back into what it was before the change, and one day she would fail completely. Jess laughed, the sound coming out as a whine. She was looking forward to the day that Jana remained trapped in the wolf's mind, but at moment she was looking forward to something else more. There were places to go and people to kill, and the night wouldn't last forever.

She might lack the time and equipment to make the cat-creatures pay as they should, but the remaining ones could at least give her a taste of blood as they died. With the trail clear to her both her eyes and nose, the wolf set off into the darkness of the trees at an easy lope. It was time for her to have a little sport.