All this I saw in the first moment—it's the Service training, you get used to looking for the lay of the land and a quick way out. I saw no exit at first glance, and then I stopped looking.
The whole place was brimful of Saleras.
When I wakened I was already walking, down the valley, up the far hill, following. I did not remember rising or taking food, and I did not have my pack with me. Alone, then, without aid, without even the most basic necessities, I began the war.
At first it was not so hard. A little delay here, a forced rest there where I did not need one, anything that would slow it down and keep it from its goal. It wanted me to walk quickly so I concentrated on walking slowly. I learned then that if I thought of my fight in the abstract I would lose it—"walking slowly" could speed up without my noticing it until I was at the speed the demon wanted. So I took each step, each single step, and slowed it down. I forced myself to concentrate on every single step.
Sweet Shia, it was hard. Still, from the way the demon fought back I must have been accomplishing something, so I bent all my will to it.
I had worked hard to become the best Healer I could be, taking my natural talent to its utmost limit through study and perseverance. It had been difficult but I had learned a great deal about bending my own will to a task until it was completed. That training stood me in good stead now, when every step took concentration and dedication. The demon fought, of course, but I used one of the techniques we were taught to overcome its first struggles. If the Healer is wounded he cannot work as well, so we learn first to heal ourselves. If there is no time for that, there is still a way to ' distance yourself from your own pain. I used that distance now to protect myself, though I knew that I would pay for it later.
I nearly laughed. The habit of life is so strong! For me there would be very little "later."
I discovered then the truth of the old saying that he who has nothing to lose is most to be feared, for he fears nothing. To prove the point I stood still, ignoring the desperate demands of the demon, concentrating on simply gazing about me on the new-blown spring, hearing the song of the small birds, breathing in the clear air filled with the spices of life and living. I stood on that sunlit hillside and wept, but not from the pain.
The sheer beauty of life was all around me, and I stole a moment in the midst of the struggle with death to rejoice in the wonder and glory of the world that surrounded me before I was forced to leave it.
The Lesser Kindred stood assembled all before us. The high field was full of them, of every imaginable hue from old iron to Salera's bright copper. We were all struck dumb with wonder.
Salera stood forth to greet us, Will first—a nudge of her nose and a happy "Hooirrr," then she came to me, bowed and said "Hffrfarrriann." There was no mistaking it. She knew my name. She was so near to speaking it hurt. I could not help myself, I reached out to her again with truespeech.
"Come, littling. You are so close, Salera! lam Varian, you know what names are and you can learn—oh, my sweet cousin, hear me, make that last step, so small after all you have done!"
There was no response. Lanen took me by the shoulder. "Come, my dear, we have walked long this morning and the sun is nearly overhead. There is food and drink."
"You do not understand," I said, trembling. "This is not the way of these creatures. I was told they lived lonely lives, in ones and twos, scattered...."
She looked at me with a crooked grin on her face. "I do understand. I live here, remember? But I also understand that you didn't have any breakfast, and if you don't get some food inside you soon, you are going to fall over. That wouldn't be setting a very good example, would it?"
I looked at her. Her eyes were shining bright as mine, she knew, she truly did know how astounding a thing this was. She also knew the limitations of a human form better than I. When she put a thick slice of bread and cheese into my hand I ate ravenously, washing it down with water from the little stream in the wood. Lanen had carried that water, followed all the way there and back by curious creatures who closely watched her every move. It was strange to do so everyday a thing as breaking bread in such a place, but it was right as well.
When we had finished our rapid meal it was the height of the day. I had been calling out to Shikrar regularly through the morning, as often as the painful use of truespeech allowed, and had no reply. My fears for him were growing, and I decided to make one final attempt before—before whatever the Winds had planned took place. I put my whole heart and soul into the summons.
"Shikrar! Hadreshikrar, my friend, where art thou? I fear for thee, soulfriend, thou hast been silent too long. Speak to me, rouse thyself from sleep or injury, speak to me!"
To my intense relief I heard his voice, fainter than usual but very much alive.
"I hear thee, my friend! Blessed be the Winds, I am here! I stand on Kolmar—albeit rather shakily, if truth be told. I have injured my wing. I can yet fly, but it is painful."
"Shikrar! Blessed be the Winds indeed. Where are you?"
"A moment, my friend, let me look. Ah. I am on a high grassy cliff at the sea's edge. I know not whether I am north or south of the Gedri lands, but all the land is untouched about me. Where are you?"
"In the southern half of Kolmar, below a great river that divides the land in two," I said. "If you can bear it, take to the air and you will see that river if you are anywhere near. South of it and away west there are high hills that lie between two great cities. I am in those hills, on a high green field—there cannot be another like it. And oh, Shikrar, it passes belief—the Lesser Kindred are here!"
"What do you say?!" he roared, his mindvoice sparkling with wonder.
I laughed. "You heard me right, my friend, the Lesser Kindred. We have found them—or they have found us. Shikrar, they are so close to sentience!"
"Have you tried to bespeak them?" he asked excitedly.
"I have, my friend. They are silent yet, but they are nearly able to speak aloud. One, Salera, has learned to say my name. They are so near, Shikrar! Come, find us, my friend," I pleaded. Now that I heard his voice and knew him near it was almost physical pain to be separated longer. And I knew my Shikrar. "Perhaps you will be able to teach them."
He laughed. Blessed be his name, he laughed with delight. "Akhor, to see the Lesser Kindred I would crawl on four broken legs. What signifies a slight injury to a wing? I will find you if I have to smell you out!"
"The Winds attend your flight," I said, astonishment and joy dulling the swift, sharp pain of truespeech. "Come soon, my brother."
"I come, my soulfriend. I come."
He would find us from the air, and he would come. It was well. I turned to Lanen. "Did you—"
"I heard, my dear." She took my hand. "Let us go among them, Varien. I have the strangest feeling. Come."
The great crowd of the Lesser Kindred opened before us and closed behind as we were carefully observed. All of us moved among them, submitting to curious sniffs and strange noises. I tried with all my will to understand what they might be saying, but to no avail. And finally, in the centre of that great field, we met with Salera once more. She stood before us and would not let us pass, moving swiftly to stand before us, stretching her wings out to stop us from passing by.
"What is it, my lass?" asked Will. He reached out to touch her, but she would not let him. Instead she turned to me. "Hffffarriann," she said. "Sssaahhrrrairrrah."
And she moved her head on her long neck, reached out and touched my soulgem with her nose. "Sssaahhrrrairrrah."