Exhaustion gripped us when we were finally back after dark, spurred on by Imoen's spell; but Faldorn restored some vitality. A large fire was already lit in the centre of the village. Far above it the moon, nearly full, glittered. Kaishas spoke words to welcome all.
"For saving our land-home from the monsters; for bringing to us sea-charts; we share hunted meat and grown grain with the outsiders, that they may know of our gratitude." I caught Durlyle's smile across the centre of the circle.
"At least the beasts are gone," the man called Tailas said in a grunt. He had been taciturn when he stood by Kaishas, some sort of second-in-command, it seemed; perhaps he was simply shy rather than meaning to be rude, I thought. He lowered his head to the still-warm roast of deer, biting almost savagely though it must have been hot to the touch. Shar-Teel sat, watching; she seemed almost coiled, her muscles tightened under her skin like a snake able to instantly leap and strike.
"You live in harmony with your surrounds," Faldorn said, suddenly providing us with a representative to speak courteously, "we had no conflict with aiding you."
There was music from carved wood and bone flutes and hide-drums; songs of growing plants and giving gratitude to the earth below. It was a veritable feast of potatoes roasted in the embers with their skins, herb sauces of basil and a spice I could not identify, green tubers steamed in saltwater, a cornlike porridge they called meiza, and even a sort of barley beer, bitter to my tastes. Viconia had not made an appearance yet; and Shar-Teel partook about as much as I did of that first toast of the drink, uncharacteristic for her. Yet I could see no cause for worry. The child Solianna danced up to Imoen, asking for more pretty butterflies, and I crossed and mingled between the villagers to greet Maralee and admire Peladan.
Durlyle sat, tired; young Ajantis was still resting in his home. I'd had hardly any time to clean up properly, and of course nothing to wear, but at least not all of the village had chosen to dress particularly well. There were holes in the man Tailas' rough tunic and the gardener called Jorin had hands thick with dirt, and none seemed to wear particularly elaborate clothing. The look in Durlyle's eyes made me feel less regretful of a poor appearance.
"The first toast of calabas is called the Coatlicue, so that we may remember our grandmothers and great-grandmothers," Durlyle explained the customs. "Then so that drunkenness is not succumbed to, the feast continues and water is served. The second is called Tecuhtli, a word that means provider, for what earth gives to let us live in peace. Again we wait and talk to each other, so that behaviour that is not peace will not be encouraged." I smiled at his slight joke. "Then there is a third we call Ome, and it means the balance and belonging that we seek; it is last, and important," he said. More Maztican-influenced names; we talked of the language.
Ajantis picked up a long, green-wrapped item from a wooden tray informally passed, a leaf of some sort that enwrapped a yellowish paste within; and he dropped it in pain at the steaming heat that rose from it. The brothers Evan and Evalt were by him, the former still thin and ill-looking; Evalt took the barded paste in his stead, easily accustomed. Then Tellarian and even Aatto passed it by, the sailors standing quietly together, waiting.
"—There are different words because not all great-grandmothers were same," Durlyle said to me, "and this tongue of ship-home became that held in common, common too to beasts. But only few words live that I know, used only celebrations..."
"In some ways, lingua communis, simplified Common with some accentuations not just Old Chondathan, but also from your other peoples...". We shared our talk; I didn't want this to end...
Kaishas raised her pottery mug and spoke again. "The second, of provision. Fields left to the beasts now open once more." Again the drinks were given; and again none of our group took more than a little. It was wise enough to keep heads cleared for the voyage home; and if Imoen had wanted to tell of something wrong with Kaishas' ship, then surely it was fixable, for it clearly was intact and floating. She left Solianna behind and went to sit by Tellarian and Davroan. The flute's song briefly paused when it was given to another player, and the tunes became faster, the beat of the drums stronger and throbbing in one's veins. A tall man of the village offered Maralee a hand to spin around at some distance from the fire, and I did the same to Durlyle. Imoen and Ajantis came, approximating the steps of a galliard, Aquerna's red tail waving over his shoulders. We spun around each other as if we'd had far more of the drinks than we had; then Imoen changed partners, twirling with Durlyle while Maralee's partner placed his arms around my waist.
The revelry continued; I thought the last time I'd danced was in Baldur's Gate. Perhaps I'd practised with Imoen at some time?—No, that wasn't in my memories. The steps were improvised, simply movements in the rhythm of the beat of the songs. Tarantella steps for a fast part, simply because it was fun, teaching a partner to imitate; then simpler spins, no missteps mattering. I saw even Faldorn in motion, trying to enjoy herself at last.
Then the music stopped; panting, I looked across at Durlyle's red face. By the fire Kaishas had gathered all once more; ready to speak that third toast, Tailas by her side as always. They did not seem particularly close, though Durlyle had said that he was second to her by authority through becoming chosen by the village.
"Taste our final that we name Ome, and be reminded of belonging in peace," Kaishas said simply. The beer was of the same bitter taste as before. "Shar-Teel," she said. "You and your group were wounded by the beasts to bring us peace. In the beginning of our mothers' grandmothers, Balduran fought without thought, and would hear no reason. Many on both sides died for his leadership. He killed many; and I do not know his fate, only that the ancestors left him to his sinking ship. He would not belong."
A silence had fallen across the village; Kaishas spoke to invoke some ritual words, it seemed.
"We are kin," Kaishas continued. "Do you see the smiling faces around you, the peace that we know? You may find it within yourself. Take the hands of those around you. Your fate must be our fate. You will not be beasts, but instead learn to belong as we..."
It was Durlyle who interrupted first, standing. "You have no right to treat them so, Kaishas! No right to force to belong. I have not spoken before, but I know what lies in some of their wishes. You must not..."
A howling, low laugh interrupted him in turn. The formerly silent Tailas, behind the chieftain, spoke at last. "The pup speaks for outsider. I speak for us: I say nay, Kaishas, and others with me! The mongrels are never welcome!"
"They have more—more kindness than you!" Durlyle said; his words were hesitant, and courageous for it. "Leave them, Tailas!"
"They are our saviours," Kaishas said, her voice incisive enough to cut through the susurrus of conversation that had begun to break out. "You threaten them, Tailas? What sense is this?"
"—Filthy different! We are pure!"
"There is a third choice," Durlyle cried. "Let them go as you have promised; Kaishas, keep that truth at least! If—if they wish to leave."
Durlyle himself and Maralee, Evan and Evalt; a peaceful people, though now we saw that not all wanted us.
Shar-Teel had stood too, expecting the explanation; Imoen and Ajantis were by her side.
"With the claws of the beasts the gift has been given them, and cannot be revoked," Kaishas said. At last, her words made an awful sense...and I looked down at my hands, and wished to retch at the taint that must lie where I had been wounded.
"But I stand as chieftain over them; the beasts turned them but we have taken the pups of the beasts, and so we now stand as guide," Kaishas continued smoothly. "For we are not beasts: we are masters of ourselves! You will stay; we are man, we are animal, and we are more than both. It not so bad, and you will begin to feel as we in a short time. It may be unstable for a time. You may...hurt, but you will live, and we shall all go to new forests and plains someday. Durlyle, the choice for them is only this or the foolery of Tailas. They will find us proper lycantho, and noble in our peace."
"—You turned us into werewolves," Shar-Teel said; she spoke quietly, for her, and that made the menace far more strong. She was going to...
"We belong," Durlyle whispered again, miserable.
"It might not be so bad...at least we would run free..." I said, weakly and unconvinced, and I think that he saw it.
"Acteon, Solvas, Chovia, Derrol, Thalis: to me!" Kaishas said. They walked to her; loped to her, wolflike, I could see now or fancy that I saw. "Tailas, be silent!" she said then, but her second would not back down.
"Then to me, those who would live in a pack free of mongrel taint! Chantrin, Laseno, Teorias—" I found myself stepping to Shar-Teel and the others, we mainlanders together, away from all of the werewolves— Durlyle watched. Tailas was darker in the fire's light; hair grew on him, and claws roughened in place of nails— And those he had called were by him and ready.
"We don't need to fight you—" I managed to say. And none listened.
"I absolve for what you must do." Kaishas raised Tellarian's sea-charts above her head. "The charts must be saved above all else. Go!"
Then it broke as surely as old bone shattered. Tailas, furred and clawed, dashed directly through the fire. Ashes and logs scattered, and nothing but confusion reigned. Shar-Teel had her sword—she cut, trying to go after Kaishas, but the chieftain and those who followed her had run.
I thought I could see nothing but shadows and claws. There was fur—creatures— I feared of seeing what Durlyle was; I unsheathed the Burning Earth but did not wish to use it. Then Imoen screamed, and staggered back. Her pearl belt had fallen to the ground. There was blood on her white tunic. I stabbed into the darkness, and something fell.
Maralee appeared in front of us, standing before the other creatures, light-coloured fur sprouting across her cheeks. "I'll not raise a claw in your direction. Kaishas goes to the chieftain's hut, a passage below there that leads to caves..."
Evan and Evalt. "Go! Kaishas is pack-leader; it was she who sent me to hunt by the Sirine Queen's dwelling. For troublemaking she condemned me..." Where they stood none of Talias' folk broke through, and we moved after where Kaishas had fled.
Ajantis struck forward with Varscona, a duel with Tailas; then it was the latter who lay on the ground, though two of his friends came after him. Shar-Teel fought.
And Durlyle—he was human-shaped, still. "This way! They all go mad! Down in the caves—east then the third to the north-east then eastern once more—"
Imoen took off running in the chaos; the crew were with us, and I saw Nowell knock out an attacker with a punch, a furred wolflike being. I was trying not to kill with the sword; I saw Shar-Teel otherwise, but she did not hear pleadings to stop. There was no Imoen, no Viconia—
No, there was Imoen, running back with her spellbook in one hand, and the wrappings in which I'd stored the charts hooked over her left shoulder. She spoke words instead of drawing Balduran's sword, and it was a spell I had not heard her cast before. The moon shone above her.
Then there were screams, and those who were human seemed to stay human, transformations to fur halted.
"Silver light—burning—"
"Moon's blindness," Imoen muttered to herself. She smiled, her teeth a bright white and her left hand clutched to her bloodied side.
A dark shape attacking Shar-Teel stopped, unable to find her; I grabbed her arm and stopped her killing blow. There was no time to waste—while they stumbled in blindness Durlyle helped us to Kaishas' hut. The door was hide, but we barricaded it with a wooden table and chairs; those friends of Tailas pursued still. Howls accompanied words.
"Kill the tainted ones! Kill those who have murdered—"
"They blinded us—blinded—"
"This way," Durlyle said fiercely; though it would have been obvious. Kaishas had a large, weighty cupboard that had recently been pushed forward and back, not quite in alignment. Behind it two wooden steps led down to a dark cavern. He pulled it free; he was stronger than I had thought, because of being a werewolf just like they—
A body slammed against the makeshift barricade and something howled.
"I am sorry," Faldorn said suddenly, "I should have noticed what they were, and I still did not wish to kill them—"
"Heal Imoen—" I told her; "—and Nowell—"
"That harpy'll take the ship. Get down," Shar-Teel commanded; they went, all of them, into the darkness of the cave, and last I was beside Durlyle...
"Come," I said. They would attack him just as much, now; Durlyle, if only—
There was no time.
"I cannot." Again something slammed into the block, the walls of the hut; more howls, crowding upon us. Durlyle's face was pale and his voice quiet. "Once you are gone they will calm. I will defend you, for in the face of what they are now I am none already. Only, please—do not fear what I am, here at the last..."
He transformed, then; and though I had feared him a monster I looked, and I was wrong. He was no wolfwere in their monstrous furred shapes that took from the worst of man and beast. Durlyle was a large wolf the size of a small horse, covered by brown and glossy fur the same colour of his hair, and with a long-muzzled canine face and almost the appearance of simply a big dog. His eyes were unchanged: the same dark velvety brown, the same kindness within them, though this time tinged with sadness.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, falling across his neck; and he moved, and pushed me to Kaishas' passage. Then the wolf sprang for the cupboard and shifted it once more across the corridor. There was the sound of splintering, and then the noises of battle there— My fingernails raked across the back of the wood, tearing one of them, but I couldn't move it—
"Skie! You've got to come now!" Imoen called. "You can't waste what he did—"
The caves were dark but her magelight shone above us. Durlyle had even given the directions: east then the third to the north-east then eastern once more, the direction of the beach where the ship was moored.
Then Kaishas' group fell on us from the shadows of the caves. They had the advantage of surprise; but they were not as strong as the wolfweres, and our numbers were greater. Two of them turned to human once they were dead; and three lived, wounded and down. Faldorn chanted a healing spell I recognised as powerful over Aatto, and painfully he rose to his feet. Residue from her missile spells blackened Imoen's hands; then she chanted a spell to give us speed, for Kaishas upon that ship.
Outside over the sands the moon yet hung in the sky, unmoving. Our footprints left bloody trails on the pale grounds where Kaishas' travel had barely touched it. There was her dark shape, at the ship, standing on the deck from the rough gangway and waiting.
"Get out of the way," Shar-Teel said contemptuously, "or you're dead too."
"—Or you could leave with us if you want it so badly; just go back to the village first and stop them, please, Durlyle was there—" I pleaded.
"You have done what you must," Kaishas said; and she was no longer human but a rippling thing of fur heavier than most of the wolfweres, far more muscular than her human shape, still standing on two legs. "Now here I hold, and here you must die. You could have stayed and belonged, but if you leave others will come to kill or capture. Perhaps Selaad will bring another ship, or perhaps I will sail this myself if you have left all of my crew dead."
"They're not all dead," I said—she wasn't evil; she could save Durlyle, perhaps, she was chieftain—whatever was still happening to him now—"But we defeated all five of them; you couldn't defeat the wolfweres and we could; you'll lose and so you have to listen to us, you have to—"
Kaishas shook her head. "I am chieftain. I am loup-garou, I have what others did not: none of your steel will harm me. Come to be killed!"
Her form changed once more; Kaishas' muzzle grew to a wolf's true shape, and she could no longer speak in a human's voice. Shar-Teel ran up the gangway, and the wolf leapt at her throat. She put out her sword to spit Kaishas' form; and it did not pierce the skin. Ajantis ran beside her, and I too: and every time our blades hit they inflicted no wound to the loup-garou's fur. Kaishas' claws raked across Ajantis' face and her teeth sank into my arm. Shar-Teel beat her away by her sword as a club; Faldorn stepped up behind me, casting her healing spell. Werewolf teeth— Shar-Teel beat Kaishas a step backward, but again her sword did no damage. The crew watched us, behind, waiting. Ajantis slashed uselessly with Varscona.
Then Shar-Teel simply punched Kaishas over the side of the deck. "Cast off—" she ordered roughly; we ran on the ship, unfurling sails, casting off the anchoring ropes that tethered it to the beach. Then there were sounds of scratching: the loup-garou in the water clawed at the hull. We could feel it through the deck.
Imoen had been casting. She held Balduran's sword in both of her hands, and it glowed white in the dark, the gold of the blade bright.
"Use this," she said; she threw, and Shar-Teel caught it by the hilt, dropping her own blade aside. "It's gold: that's for shapeshifters in the stories. And it's Islanne's spell for a good sword. You have to," she said, but there wasn't a need to tell that to Shar-Teel. She had jumped in the water after Kaishas already; and then the beating upon the hull ceased. I looked down to see the woman's body floating, bloodied, facedown below the waves.
"Damages?" Nowell crisply asked, leaning over the side and flinging down a rope.
The hull was still unbreached; we had a chance. All of us...no; we had all the crew; Ajantis and Faldorn and Imoen and Shar-Teel.
"And the bloody drow doesn't think to show up," Shar-Teel said. The gangplank still remained; one rope tethered the ship in place. Imoen turned over the pages of her spellbook below her magelight, glancing up every so often to the wind that fluttered the single mainsail.
"Night though it is we're better to go without her! Better shoals than wolves," Nowell said.
I could have agreed with him. But, it came to me at last: Viconia had come with us, and I should speak openly with her if I still wanted to do so. "Wait at least as long as we can! She's an ally to all of us, and we're not leaving her to werewolves."
That, strangely enough, gained a curt nod from Shar-Teel. Then we did not have long to wait after all, for Viconia came running over the cliffs in the darkness, stepping over the sharp rocks with her inhuman grace, her clothing ragged and flying around her. As she came still closer it was clear that blood stained both her mouth and her hands. We pulled her into the ship, and cut the last of the ties.
"I've got the Dradeel spell," Imoen said. "It aligns the sails to catch just the right wind. And for sailing by night, we've got a drow."
She chanted, and by magic the sails stretched themselves to catch an easterly that blew us from the island. The island's dark mass became no longer visible to me long before Viconia saw the last of it.
There was a hut, and there was a brown-furred doglike wolf, and a door that slammed closed amidst howling...
There was the darkness and the slow beating of the waves. There was still a belladonna-flower in my hair...
—
Edwin selected spellbook and components and changes of robes, he went as a wizard and more than only a common soldier.
—