Taking Flight

“Not compared to the whole thing,” Irith replied. “I mean, they don’t call it the Great Eastern Desert for a joke, Kelder-it’s huge. Covers one entire side of the World.”

“What’s on the other side?”

“Of the World?” Irith stared at him as if he were quite thoroughly mad.

“No, no,” Kelder explained hastily, “I mean the other side of the ten leagues!”

She shrugged again. “Empty grassland. Lots and lots of it.”

He nodded. “And Shan’s about three or four leagues from here?”

“About that,” she agreed.

Kelder looked down the escarpment, down at the empty sands, and asked, “How do we get there?”

“Walk,” Irith said, pointing.

Kelder followed her finger, and discovered that the road did not vanish at the top of the cliff, as he had first thought; it turned a sharp angle to the right and wound its way slowly and torturously down the slope, to disappear into the sand at the bottom.

“The sand blows onto the highway, but there are markers every half-mile or so,” Irith explained. “It’s paved, really, but the sand covers it.”

Kelder sighed and looked up. The sun was slightly past its zenith.

“I guess we had better get going,” he said.

Irith nodded. “Asha,” she said, turning to the girl, “can you walk for awhile? It’s sort of steep along here, and it’s not good for horses, and besides, I’m getting tired of being a horse.”

“All right,” Asha agreed. She immediately started walking on ahead, picking her way carefully down the rather abrupt drop that took the road over the edge of the escarpment and down the first five or six feet.

Kelder and Irith followed.

“Is it uncomfortable, being a horse?” Kelder asked, genuinely curious, as they made the turn and the road leveled out somewhat as it cut sideways across the face of the slope.

“No, of course not,” Irith answered. She giggled at the idea. “It’s sort of nice, being big and strong like that. But I get tired of not seeing any colors, and not being able to talk, and my fingers that aren’t there get stiff, sort of, from being hooves and being walked on.”

“Not seeing colors?” Kelder asked, startled.

“That’s right,” Irith said with a nod. “Horses don’t see colors, just greys and black and white. Sort of like in the evening, when it’s mostly dark? Except that it’s not dark, there just isn’t any color.” She hesitated, then amended that to, “At least, when I’m a horse, I don’t see colors. I don’t know about natural horses, really.”

“Oh,” Kelder said.

A moment later he said, “Could you ask them?”

“Ask who?” Irith asked, startled.

“Natural horses. Can you talk to them, when you’re a horse?”

“No, silly!” she said. “Horses don’t talk!”

“Not even amongst themselves?” Kelder asked. “I mean, I know they don’t speak any of our languages, but don’t they have languages of their own?”

Irith giggled again.

“Well,” Kelder said defensively, “they do in all the old stories.”

“Oh, Kelder,” Irith said, “those are just stories! Hardly any of them are true!”

“Well, how should I know that?” he asked.

“Because it’s foolish! Horses can’t talk unless they’re magical, somehow. The gods taught people to speak, not animals!”

Kelder marched on half a dozen steps in silence, then said, “What about the other things you can turn into?”

“What other things?” Irith asked, not looking at him.

“You said you could change into seven different shapes,” he said. “Can the others see color? Can they talk?”

“Well, it doesn’t matter whether I have wings or not,” Irith said, “I’m still me, and I can still see colors and still talk.”

“What about the others, though?”

Irith sighed. “Which others?”

“All four of them!”

“I can’t talk in any of the others. I can see colors in two of them.”

“Which ones?”

“None of your business.”

That effectively ended the conversation, and they trudged on down the escarpment in silence.

The silence continued for the entire descent, and well out onto the sands. Kelder simply didn’t have anything to say except questions that Irith didn’t want to answer, Asha was concentrating on walking, and Irith’s thoughts were her own.

It was finally broken when Asha wailed, “This sand gets into everything! Irith, could you be a horse again?”

“No,” Irith snapped. She marched on.

“Here,” Kelder said, “you can ride on my shoulders for a little while, until you get the sand out from between your toes.” He reached out his arms.

Asha looked up at him, considering, and then shook her head.

“No, Kelder, but thank you all the same,” she said. “I’ll walk.” She turned and trudged onward, slogging through the drifting sand.

Kelder dropped his arms, then shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, a little annoyed. Was that any way for a person to treat her champion?

He marched on, frustrated and resentful. Fulfilling a prophecy wasn’t turning out to be as much fun as he hoped.

He glanced over at Irith, at her flowing golden hair and the curves that showed through her garments as she walked.

On the other hand, he told himself, it did have its points.

He trudged on, thinking about the future.

Chapter Thirteen