SWORD AND SORCERESS XVI, page 32
She says, however, that it's a real thrill to see her own story in print, as opposed to writing copy for video sleeves, ads and brochures which focuses on someone else's story. Yes, I'd say that makes quite a difference.
She wishes to dedicate this story to her friend and neighbor, Deborah Wheeler, who always believed in her ability as a writer—even when she herself began to doubt.
It's funny the way things work out; I published Deborah's first story in Sword and Sorceress I. If Deborah is my literary daughter, does that make Susan my literary granddaughter?
Saria had been dead for a week when her missing 'tsunee flew into the village, a message tied to its leg. The hawk cried out once as it circled overhead.
:Home:
Feeding her pigeons, Lei had to grasp the coop for support, overcome with the dizzying sensation her sister had flown back from the dead.
:Grayhawk!:
:Lei! PainLonelyAfraid:
Although Lei had linked with Grayhawk once before,
she cringed under the onslaught of feelings now pushing against her mind. She quickly severed the link, gasping as the pressure in her head subsided.
Grayhawk spiraled downward as pigeons rose like a locust cloud and flew for the nearest trees. The hawk landed awkwardly in the now empty coop, huddling in silent exhaustion, one wing slightly askew. Lei saw its small heart beating, saw where an arrow had pierced clear through its wing.
With trembling fingers, she untied Saria's message. So now I will know what was more important than being with me on my name day. What need took you down the southern road only to fall to a bandit's arrow through your heart. But Lei's initial anger had long faded and her vision blurred as she read the familiar scrawl.
CROSDEN'S CROSSING. SOLSTICE SUNRISE. WONDERS!
The cooing of the birds faded as Lei stared at the paper clutched between her fingers. She could almost sense her sister's excitement in the hurried scrawl, smell the cinnamon tea Saria always kept in the pouch with her paper.
"Did they watch you write this, my sister, then snoot you and Grayhawk as you parted ways?" Lei whispered.
"What does it say?"
Lei spun around with a small cry.
Nathon, the village healer, stood directly behind her, his eyes fixed upon the scrap of paper in Lei's hand. "Well?" he repeated, leaning heavily upon his walking stick.
"She wanted me to meet her at Crosden's Crossing at sunrise ... on my name day." Lei straightened her shoulder as a small group began to gather. She held up the message so everyone could see. "She did not forget."
"Tradition says she comes to you," Nathon said softly.
Lei's eyes widened. "The winter sickness left her twice as many patients. Her route had more than doubled."
"Yes, but she knew you feared leaving this village.
Why ask you to meet her someplace so far away?" Na-thon shrugged. "Her actions have left you with nothing."
Lei blinked in surprise. "I have Grayhawk."
"Pah!" Nathon pulled himself up as tall as his crippled back allowed. "A clever bird that gathers herbs!"
And guides lost and frightened souls to their place in the spirit world. But Lei said nothing.
"Since Saria was the last of your family, the elders will give you your true name and you shall be apprenticed to me." Nathon smiled as the crowd murmured approval. "Now go home and rest, young woman."
Lei felt panic stir deep in her stomach as Nathon moved away, drawing the crowd behind him. She glanced down at Saria's message, the ink now blurred with the sweat from her hand. But one word stood out clearly.
Wonders!
Carefully, Lei tucked Saria's final message into the small pouch hanging around her neck, a gift from Saria's last trip home. She brought the pouch up to her nose, inhaling deeply, letting its spicy smell overwhelm her: a smell that spoke of exotic marketplaces full of strange and wonderful teas, medicines, and magics that could cure anyone of anything.
I could straighten Nathon's back. But she knew better than to reveal that Saria had taught her such magic.
Our secret.
Lei looked into the pigeon coop. "We know their fear blinds them, don't we, friend."
Grayhawk stared back unflinchingly as Lei suddenly gasped and fell to her knees. As my own fear binds me here!
Lei looked around the never-changing village square with its small wood-and-mud-baked homes and cluttered marketplace. So familiar. So safe.
"Saria," Lei whispered again as realization shook her. "What other wonders were you going to share with me?"
The wind soughing through the trees whispered the
question back as the sky turned from deepest indigo to black, and the first star appeared low on the horizon over the southern road.
Saria! As Lei stared at the glittering star, she took a deep breath and slowly lowered her defenses. An instant later she felt another heart beat slow and sure in her breast, felt a gentle awareness slip into her mind.
:LeiCome: Grayhawk struggled to her feet as Lei put on Saria's leather gauntlet and held out her arm.
:You are right, brave one. Come:
It did not take Lei long to pack her few belongings. And as others gathered around their fires for the evening meal, Lei slipped through the shadows with a small pack on her back, Saria's medicine pouch over her shoulder and a 'tsunee warm inside her cloak. As she reached Nathon's hut, she circled it once, casting a small, healing spell—a slight tingle Nathon would remember when he awoke the next morning, his back a little stronger.
Lei smiled. Perhaps he will speak of it when I return.
She crept on, reaching the edge of the village unchallenged. The road to Crosden's Crossing shone bright in the moonlight, the dark forest on either side seeming to guard the way so that Lei could take no wrong turn. She took one hesitant step as Nathon's voice came back to her. She gave you nothing?
"No," Lei whispered back. "She gave me knowledge."
:KnowledgePowerFreedom:
:Yes, Grayhawk! She gave me freedom:
Lei laughed as the warm night air blew back her hair, astonished she had ever feared the night or the road leading out of her village.
THE VISION THAT APPEARED
by Katherine L. Rogers
Katherine Rogers is thirty-four years old and has a Master's degree in Archaeology from Boston University. She worked on prehistoric and historic sites in the U.S. and once did a survey in Greece, but she is not currently pursuing a career in archaeology. Instead she pursues her two daughters— ages 19 months and 3-and-1/2 years—all the time. That's enough pursuing for anybody—or for several bodies. And if I say any more now, the introduction will be longer than the story.
The last faint sounds of music and laughter faded as Claudia carefully shut the door to the library. Missing the music and dancing of a Midsummer's Eve party was a painful decision, but she had a chance to work magic tonight. This might be the only occasion to try the spell she had found in the chest in the library. By the date on the parchment she knew it was old, but the writing was still clear. "A Spell to See" it was called. Claudia was thrilled to discover that the spell was designed to be used by someone without special training.
Claudia's branch of the family had no wizards. There were the old stories of course, about how Claudia's Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandmother, Lady Margaret Reed, had been courted by a famous wizard and then rejected him. He had later married Margaret's younger sister.
Claudia knew the story was true; she had a distant cousin at the Wizard's College. If Lady Margaret had been anything like Claudia's grandmother, it was a wonder a wizard had even bothered with her. (Grandmother called magic a "frivolous pursuit.") Still, the note at the top of the page said it was a gift to Lady Margaret Reed from "The Wizard Egbert, the Magnificent." The spell was to be performed on Midsummer's Eve by "a young unmarried woman" and could only be used once by any person. It would reveal "A Wonderful Vision" to the caster.
Claudia's anticipation mounted. She felt so daring sneaking off to cast a spell. "Certainly Mother never tried anything like this," Claudia scoffed. Her mother was unsympathetic to Claudia's protests over the unfairness of having a cousin at the Wizard's College while she had to stay home and learn "Domestic Engineering." "Magic is overrated," her mother always insisted. Claudia would not believe it. Magic was grand, magic was important. "A Wonderful Vision." What would be revealed?
Claudia retrieved the parchment from the closet. She reviewed the spell, took a deep breath, and chanted the words that would be her one taste of magic. What marvels she was going to see! A shiver ran through her body as she completed the spell. She lifted her hand and pointed at the octagonal window in the North wall. It shimmered and wavered. Still clutching the parchment, Claudia moved closer and held her breath as the glass cleared. At first she saw only her own reflection peering back expectantly. Then it changed. As she looked, the reflection became that of another young woman—her mother! Then Aunt Hildegarde, her grandmother, another young lady, and another, each holding the parchment. The images changed like the riffling of pages in a book finally stopping with an image of Lady Margaret herself.
Lady Margaret, too, held the parchment, and gazed in shock and dismay at the "wonderful vision" of a hun-
dred pink parrots rising into the night sky to spell out the words "Marry Me, Egbert."
Incredulous, Claudia shook her head. Mother was right, magic was overrated.
Balefanio, SWORD AND SORCERESS XVI
