Child of a Mad God by R. A. Salvatore
* * *
Aoleyn exited the crystal caves from the same tunnel she had first been brought to in this place. She knew the area here fairly well now, so it was with complete confidence that she leaped away, drawing the power of the green and blue-white stones dangling from the chains of wedstone now secured to her stomach. Up she soared to the first ledge, where she set her foot again and leaped away, scaling the rocky mountain with practiced ease.
She soon crossed the level of the Usgar winter encampment and the circular grove of short pines that surrounded the god-crystal. Normally, she would circle far to the left now, down and around below the encampment and out of sight of Elder Raibert, that she could approach Bahdlahn at work on th’Way from the north side of the mountain. This night, Aoleyn felt particularly empowered, though, and close to Usgar. She had become the god’s instrument!
She ran swiftly to the pines and bounded over them with one single leap, landing in the circular lea and stumbling forward from her momentum, nearly colliding with the god-crystal!
She could feel the heat pulsating from it—not uncomfortably hot, but soothingly warm. She had no idea of what she was doing here, but on impulse, she reached out and touched the giant crystal.
It was humming, full of Usgar’s song, vibrating with swift notes. Aoleyn eyes widened—she had never felt anything quite like this!
She moved closer and touched it with her other hand, too, and felt the thrum of the god-crystal filling her entire being, warming her, exciting her.
She backed away some time later, her black eyes sparkling in crystalline reflection, her breath coming in gasps, and truly, she thought this the best night of her life.
But now she had to be careful, she reminded herself, for she was not far from Raibert, and would cross near to the southern end of that camp to get to th’Way.
She went out the southern end of the grove, putting the trees between her and the Elder. With a great leap and flight, she went to the wall she had scaled with Seonagh that long-ago day when she had been pledged to Brayth. Now buoyed by the magic of the green stone, Aoleyn scrambled spiderlike across the cliff facing, then up and over it farther along to the east, coming over a ridge in clear sight of Craos’a’diad. Past it, she descended th’Way carefully, smiling when she heard the tap-tap of Bahdlahn’s hammer.
She found him fitting a stone.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to work in the daylight?” she asked, startling him, for with the green gem, she walked without a whisper of sound.
Bahdlahn jumped back and raised his hammer defensively, but then smiled and lowered it when he recognized Aoleyn.
“It is cooler at night,” he replied.
“But the wolves are out at night!”
“They won’t come this high.”
“How could you know that?” Aoleyn asked.
“Because there’s nothing big up here worth eating!” he said.
Aoleyn found herself charmed by his reasoning, by his intelligence, by the simple clarity and cadence of his speech. There was nothing simple about Bahdlahn, but how brilliantly had he played the role of idiot, as his mother had commanded—and that, too, she knew, was a testament to his cunning.
“There’s you!” Aoleyn countered, and Bahdlahn had to laugh at that, and such an infectious giggle it was that Aoleyn, too, was laughing.
“Shh!” she warned.
“Shh!” he warned back at her.
Aoleyn composed herself. They weren’t far enough from Elder Raibert for such outbursts. “And a wolf would find you a fine meal,” she said, and she pinched Bahdlahn’s thick arm—and was shocked at how solid it was!
“Is that why you fatten me up?” Bahdlahn teased.
“You just said that the wolves don’t come up here.”
“Ah, but the bears do.”
Aoleyn started to laugh, but bit it back when she realized that he wasn’t joking.
“They do,” Bahdlahn confirmed. “Big ones. I hear the little rock slides when they paw about. They come up to lick the moths off the stones.”
“What?” Aoleyn couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.
“They do,” he insisted. “I’ve seen them. The moths sleep on the warm stones, and the bears sit by, licking the stones clean.” He pointed to the east, to a spot where the ground fell away from th’Way steeply, affording a wide view of Fireach Speuer’s higher slopes. “I can see them from there, but they don’t come very close.”
He paused and looked at her slyly. “Of course, if you keep fattening me up…”
Aoleyn appreciated the levity. Taking the cue, she pulled her pack off her back and drew back the string, revealing a heaping portion of venison she had collected after dinner.
“A good bit, this night,” she told him proudly.
Bahdlahn nodded, but a cloud passed over his face.
“What?” Aoleyn asked.
“Less food and an earlier greeting would please me more,” he explained. “I would take any word you speak over any morsel of food.”
Aoleyn stared at him, her heart breaking. How lonely he must be, of course. He was up here all day, every day, quite certainly exiled and alone.
“Why don’t you run?” she asked suddenly.
“I run up and down th’Way often.”
“I mean away. Why don’t you run away? They wouldn’t even know you were gone for…”
“The old man comes here every day.”
“You’d still have the whole of the night to get away,” Aoleyn said.
“They would torture my mother. They’ve promised me.”
Aoleyn winced and fell back a step. Of course they had. Of course the Usgar had levied such weight onto Bahdlahn’s shoulders before leaving him up here to do his miserable work—work that would have likely killed him already if she hadn’t been bringing him food and healing his many cuts and wounds, some of which were already pus-filled by the time she put the wedstone to them.
Bahdlahn was wearing bonds of guilt and responsibility that were every bit as thick and taut as the ropes often used to bind the slaves in the camp.
Usgar did this. She was Usgar.
Suddenly, Aoleyn wanted to be far from that place.
* * *
“In the middle of the ninth month, Iseabal will show her bloody face,” Tay Aillig told a trio of young warriors, Aghmor, Ralid, and his nephew, Egard. “So says the Usgar-righinn.”
“We will raid the lakemen at the end without worry, then,” Ralid reasoned, but Tay Aillig shook his head.
“At the beginning,” Tay Aillig explained. “And secretly, without the blessing of the Coven.”
That got the attention of the three! Tay Aillig had summoned them specifically, and to an out-of-the-way place, and so they had all been suspicious that something was afoot. This revelation, though, was far more extreme than any had considered. They had whispered among themselves that perhaps the Usgar-laoch meant to participate in this season’s raiding, or that he would name Aghmor as the raid leader. But this was something beyond!
Tay Aillig saw the confusion on their faces, so he prompted Aghmor to ask the obvious question.
“The blessings upon the weapons grant us the power to destroy the villagers,” the younger warrior pointed out. “What gain in ignoring that?”
“We’ll not enter a village,” Tay Aillig replied. “Usgar is thick with foodstuffs this season.”
“Thin with uamhas,” Egard remarked.
“Thick enough,” Tay Aillig answered. “We go to the lake to take one lakeman, or woman, or child, it does not matter, and that slave will be brought to Fireach Speuer to await Iseabal’s bloody face.”
He had the three looking to each other in confusion, which made him smile all the wider.
“And with that slave, we will avenge Brayth,” he said, and that brought confused stares that turned into horrified expressions as they each remembered how Brayth had died.
“The fossa?” Aghmor breathed, and swallowed hard.
They didn’t seem very excited about the proposition.
“I know how to kill it,” the Usgar-laoch asserted with confidence. “I could have killed it that day when it took Brayth.”
“But you did not!” Aghmor said.
“Because I did not know the truth of the beast until we crashed together, and then it was too late to strike. But now I know.” He considered reaching into his secret pouch to bring forth the amethyst-speckled sunstone, but decided against it. He had never shown that to any in the tribe. If the Coven ever found out the properties of that item, the result would not be good for him.
“You are afraid,” Tay Aillig said against the wall of silence. “You doubt me.”
“Never, War Leader!” all of them said immediately.
“Yes, you do,” he countered. “And you are right to be fearful. But I am not, because I know. I will kill the demon fossa. I need only a lure to bring it out, and you three to corner the beast that I can finish it.”
“Could we not just use one of the uamhas we have?” Ralid asked.
“The idiot boy, Thump,” Egard added, and the others nodded.
“He works the stairs of th’Way in service to the Coven,” Tay Aillig told them. “Usgar-forfach Raibert watches him. He will not do. I will send you three down to find a slave. You three alone. More glory is yours.”
“And we will kill the fossa?” Aghmor asked.
“I will kill the fossa,” Tay Aillig corrected. “But in that, too, you will gain glory and standing … if you survive.”
The young warriors exchanged looks again, full of trepidation, but mixed with intrigue.
“When must we choose?” Ralid asked.
“You already have,” said Tay Aillig. “The choice was made when I asked you out here, and the choice was agreed when you came to this gathering. Now you’ll be silent, for it’s our own secret, and any who’re whispering will feel my wrath.”
He reached behind a tree and produced a large sack, tossing it to the ground before the five. Its contents clanged and scraped and the top fell open, revealing a cache of weapons. Not the crystal-tipped Usgar spears, but metal weapons the raiders had taken from the villagers over the years.
“Pick and practice,” Tay Aillig told them. “With these, you will catch my lure, and with these, you will help me kill the demon fossa.”
He slowly brought his index finger up over his pursed lips, and left them with a not-subtle reminder. “And…”
30
THE OWL AND THE SNAKE
Aoleyn emerged from the crystal caverns to find a blustery and chilly wind, the first harbinger of an approaching autumn. When one gust hit her so hard that it moved her sideways a couple of steps, she had to wonder if she could safely fly this night. Would she glide down the mountain only to be blown into a rocky crag?
The young woman dismissed the thought, confident that the moonstone she had secured to her belly would allow her to get down safely.
Indeed, Aoleyn was full of confidence this night—so much so that she had considered exiting the caverns by daring the darkness of the pit once more to float up through Craos’a’diad. She had even started that way, ready to face the ghosts, or whatever they were.
She had changed her mind, though, for she had accomplished much, but had already spent too long out here, again.
Besides, she wanted to try out her new powers, and her new anklet! She had been quite busy, weaving a wedstone wire in and out of the skin of her left ankle, a double strand. On one were two small bars of the gray stone with which she could create lightning, along with a pretty blue stone she had not completely discerned. Even more confusing to her were the purplish chips of sapphire on that second strand. She knew the gem from the mundane jewelry the tribe had stolen from lakemen, but she couldn’t quite discern its magical properties, although it seemed to have something to do with enhancing, or shaping, the energy of other stones.
Yes, the blue zircon and the sapphires would need much further investigation, Aoleyn decided, but not this night, for she had also crafted new earrings, and these she knew how to use, and more importantly, why to use them. The powerful garnet dangled on a wedstone chain from her right ear, but her left had a cuff of turquoise, and with a cat’s-eye gemstone set upon it. She closed her eyes and tapped that ear now, using the touch to focus her energy.
She opened her eyes to a new world, it seemed, where the low starlight was no hindrance to her vision, other than to steal color. Fireach Speuer was all grays and shadows before her, but every rock, every blade of grass was distinct. She could see as well as the nocturnal hunting cats, could navigate by starlight as if it were high noon.
She spent a long while adjusting to this new vision, basking in the serene beauty of it, filled with awe and appreciation.
She had intended to go straight off to visit Bahdlahn, but it would have to wait. For Aoleyn wanted to fly with her new vision, wanted to feel the wind … and defeat it!
She moved to the edge of the nearest cliff and just let herself fall off, bringing forth the powers of the green and blue-white stones set to her belly. She was gliding then, riding the night winds as easily as a hawk, floating with magic instead of wings. Down she went, down and around the mountain until she came in sight of the fires of the Usgar encampment.
Burning low, she noted, reminding her that she had been in the cavern for a long while this night. It bothered her more than she had expected to realize that she wouldn’t see Bahdlahn.
With a sigh, Aoleyn floated to a nearby pine, the tallest she could see, and settled easily upon a high branch, using just enough of the malachite’s powers to keep the branch from bending. There, from that perch, she studied the nighttime world around her.
Movement on the ground to the side caught her attention and she smiled widely when a beautiful fox trotted out gracefully from some brush.
This would be her first “capture,” she thought, and she brought her hand back to her left ear, to the turquoise cuff, and she focused upon that and upon the wedstone to free her spirit, and like an arrow, Aoleyn’s sensibilities shot away, flying for the fox, flying into the fox!
And she could see the world through the fox’s eyes, and hear the world through the fox’s ears! And she wanted to hear the fox’s call, so she compelled it to cry out.
Most of all, Aoleyn read the animal’s thoughts, and felt as it felt. It knew she was there, or that something was inside of it, at least. But another urge called.
Aoleyn heard the scrabbling of a creature—she thought it a large creature, but no, it was just a mouse, some distance away, scrambling under some leaves.
The fox stood very still, ears turning, honing in, and then the fox jumped up high and came straight down.
Aoleyn tasted the blood of a mouse. The shock of the kill and suddenness of the attack had her fleeing back to her own form.
Up high in the tree, the young woman giggled at her own squeamishness, but oh, what a grand gift this was! To understand the animals, to commune with them, to see and hear and smell the world through the animals of Fireach Speuer!
She heard a hoot.
She went perfectly still, perfectly silent, scanning the trees with her enhanced cat’s-eye vision. Finally, she spotted the source, a great horned owl, sitting on a branch not so far away.
From her nighttime soaring about the mountain, Aoleyn thought she understood the freedom of flying, but her movements seemed crude and clumsy indeed after she entered the sensibilities of that owl!
She could see many times better than her cat’s-eye, many times better than the fox, even. The sounds of the mountain assailed her. Hoots and howls, rustling leaves, blowing grasses, the wind through the stones. Such a dizzying, beautiful cacophony! The sounds of the mountain night were more alive than any dull-sensed human could begin to imagine!
It took little urging for her to get the bird to take wing, and t
She forgot all about Bahdlahn.
She willed the bird closer to the Usgar campfire as soon as it came within sight, curious to see the encampment through this creature’s eyes. What secrets might she see?
She was charmed indeed when she first flew past the camp, for it did not disappoint. She heard Mairen snoring—and it sounded like thunder—though she was certain that if she had been walking by the Crystal Maven’s tent in her own body, with her own ears, she wouldn’t have heard it at all!
She heard giggling from another tent, but decided not to pursue it. She heard as the fire crackled, and then saw one of the warrior sentries peeing in the woods.
She felt naughty and godlike all at once!
The owl swooped over and around the large encampment, then off into the night, but before it left the Usgar behind, Aoleyn noted something else, something curious.
She saw a form, a woman, slipping away from one of the tents, rushing from shadow to shadow into the night and back toward the uamhas pine grove. It wasn’t a warrior going to rape a slave, she knew, so she urged the owl to turn back. It wasn’t an Usgar at all.
She caught only one more glimpse of the woman, but it was enough for her to know: it was Innevah, Bahdlahn’s mother.
But why?
* * *
Thoughts of Innevah’s strange movements in the Usgar camp had flown from Aoleyn’s mind by the time she had released the owl from her magical grasp and returned fully to her own body, still perched easily upon the branch—although that branch was bending more now, as she had lost some concentration on the levitational magic.
Still, she didn’t fall. She leaped away, and brought forth the magical powers of her own flight. How clumsy she felt, then, compared with the freedom afforded in the owl’s form, and Aoleyn winced to think how slow and clumsy she’d be without the magical powers she had discovered!