Jessica had enchanted a little more than a score of her feathers when the ribbon constricted with a palpitating flash. The hawk lifted her head and wings from the weave of magic she'd been inscribing into the next dozen feathers, worried at the ribbon's strange behavior. Her will stretched out and touched its silken contours allowing the image of what was most present to it to come to life before her.
As if she perched upon its balustrade she saw the rooftop of the barracks in Lake Barnhardt and her precious hyacinth reposing in the warm noonday sunlight. But the hyacinth, quiet and simple in its vegetative life, was not alone. To her surprise she saw many of her friends assembled there warily advancing upon the purple flower. Her husband was amongst them.
It seemed she did not have four days after all. The betrayal stung deep but there must be an explanation for it. Clearly her friends did not understand her purpose in using a hyacinth to give strength to her spells. But what could she do about it?
You can defend me.
Cheered by this thought, Jessica straightened and stretched her wings until the tips bled into ribbon around her. Her enchanted feathers thrummed, the spells stretching outward to embrace her friends.
"I don't know what defenses this has," Rickkter said as he took a few tentative steps toward the hyacinth. "Fire worked well enough last time. But last time it didn't know I was coming. Muri, watch my back."
Charles and James fanned out to the raccoon's left, their weapons drawn and ready. Charles spun his Sondeshike until it was a spinning silver disk. Larssen gripped his massive blade, keeping himself between the hyacinth and Maud who stepped carefully behind him. Murikeer and Kayla flanked Rickkter, with Weyden between them and James and Dallar and Van nearer the giraffes. For several seconds the hyacinth remained unperturbed. Now that they could see it they could not forget it. This was the source of whatever was corrupting their dear friend Jessica.
Rickkter extended one arm, an arc of fire lancing toward the flower just as Murikeer lifted his arms, wincing from the pain of magic, even as he shouted, "Look out!"
The air about the hyacinth appeared still, but as soon as the blast of fire neared, it sprang into a violent column of spinning purple bands, each shimmering with the varied hues of Spring as if an artist had dropped his paints into a drain and watched them all blend together as they were sucked into the sewers. The blast of fire scattered into harmless ash, followed a heartbeat later by whips of energy that erupted from the maelstrom to strike them in the chest.
Murikeer's shield cracked in front of him but held long enough for him to see the raccoon beside him dwindle in stature until he fell onto his tail in a rumple of clothes, reduced to nothing more than a four or five year old child. Kayla landed in a heap next to him in a similar state of youth. He gasped in horror as he scanned his friends and saw that the same fate had overcome each of them; even Van who had already been touched by the age regression curse had been rendered a little boy with ruddy cheeks and chubby arms and legs. Both giraffes were a tangle of gangly limbs. Charles's Sondeshike clattered across the rooftop until it wedged itself into the northeast corner as the rat shrank until he barely stood taller than his red vest. Only Weyden had been spared the reduction to childhood.
"Get them back!" Murikeer shouted at the hawk. He could say nothing more because the tight weave of spells lashed toward him again. He stretched his will and plucked a thread free and watched it disintegrate into harmless cantrips that bounced from his shield without even chipping it. He disarmed a second a moment later, but the next five came too quick for even his skills. This was not like his struggle against the Runecaster last year. On that terrible day when he faced a wizard far more powerful than himself and only good fortune saved him, he had been able to dismember her spells because she had to craft each one right then. These incantations had been prepared before and could be loosed faster than the flutter of a hummingbird's wings.
They struck his shield with merciless ferocity. The first two spells were destroyed by his shield, even if they sent cracks radiating outward, splintering the edges like a woodsman striking a log with his axe. The third spell cracked the shield in half, while the fourth blasted one of the halves into incoherence. Through the remnants of his defenses the fifth spell struck home. Murikeer gasped as the magic passed into him, wrapping him and warping him with a tight complex of threads that worked through the Curse like a seamstress sewing a patch onto an old cloth.
He stumbled backward, a giddy sensation filling him as the world spun and grew larger. His clothes entangled him as he lost his footing and with a laugh he tumbled on the ground with a terrific and vivacious energy. A sudden wild impulse struck him and he tackled the confused looking sheep boy, latching his teeth onto his stubby horn. The sheep boy bleated in surprise before rolling to his side and head-butting the skunk with a laugh.
Weyden gaped. His friends were all children, some of them struggling to get out of the too baggy adult cloths, and others already naked and running around the top of the barracks screaming and laughing. His talons scraped the stone, trying to summon the old guard captain he'd been at one time in his life to figure out what to do. But for some reason he couldn't find him; all that was left was a frightened husband staring at the swirling mass of light and wind that had taken the shape of his wife's face.
"Jessica!" he cried, trembling beneath his feathers. "What have you done?"
Her voice seemed to echo as if it bounced from the mountains. "They will all be fine. I will come there myself and set all things right. I just could not let them harm the hyacinth. It is the key, my love. The key to a brighter future for all of Metamor. Please keep them safe now. I'll be there in a few hours. I love you, my Weyden."
And then the image vanished and the tower of light dispersed like a million butterflies scattering. The hyacinth remained, the roots strong, the stem wide, and the bounteous blossoms vibrant and open. Weyden turned away from the plant, his chest empty, and stumbled toward the trap door. Naomi waited at the bottom of the ladder with a confused expression. "Is everything all right? I hear children!"
Weyden was grateful in that moment that he'd been made a hawk because very few mammals could understand his expressions. With good fortune she would never realize just how stricken he was. "A little mishap. One of Jessica's old spells turned everyone else into animal children. Can you help me get them somewhere they'll be safe. And... they could use some clothes."
Naomi blinked in surprise but nodded, almost laughing but not quite. "Certainly. How did that happen? And what are we to do with them?"
"Jessica's on her way from Metamor. She'll sort everything out. In the meantime... just keep them safe and from running into the street naked."
"I'll fetch a few others to help. And some mothers to mend clothes to fit them for now. Just keep an eye on them."
Weyden felt something with claws and a big tail jump onto his back. He squawked and nodded, gasping for breath "I will."
If there was one thing she wished she spent more time studying it would be the book that Yonson had given and Habakkuk had translated for her. She may hold the secrets to the Pillars of Ahdyiojiak but they did her no good in the middle of the day. A much simpler teleportation spell would have sufficed to bring her from Keeptowne to Lake Barnhardt with only a few minutes preparation. Instead she was forced to fly there herself, a journey of at least two hours if not three if the winds were against her. As it was a southerly wind was dragging heavy clouds up into the valley and providing several thermals on which she could rely to speed her on her way. Still, she feared for her poor husband in that time.
No matter how she assured him, what could he possibly think after seeing what he'd seen?
He will not understand.
No, Jessica agreed, Weyden wouldn't understand. At least not yet.
Nor will your friends.
She flapped her wings and pushed herself higher in the current of air. Beneath her she could see the eddies and cataracts of the Metamor river spilling one over another as they cut a course through the rugged and heavily forested terrain between Metamor and the lake. The hawk normally preferred to follow the road in case she saw a friend, but haste was imperative.
Although she didn't think her friends would understand now matter how quickly she returned them to adulthood.
They will in time. You will help them.
Jessica felt buoyed by that thought. But there was still the matter of what she was going to say. How could she ever explain it to them? How could she ever explain it to Weyden?
Open his eyes. Make him see as you see.
How she wished it were that easy. He had doubtless heard from Rickkter all about the evils and dangers of a hyacinth now. She wasn't worried about him actually touching the hyacinth, not after seeing all of their friends reduced to children. But if he had taken part in their well-meaning but misguided attempt to destroy the hyacinth, then it meant that he did not trust her anymore. Could mere words ever repair such lost trust? She did not think so and it ached her heart to know that her beloved Weyden did not trust her.
Actions heal. Actions will bring back trust.
That was true. Words could only go so far to repair the breach that her friends had made between her and her husband.
What kind of friend would make such a breach?
The thought unsettled her and she began a slow descent as her feathers almost trembled. Could she trust her friends again? They had betrayed her by trying to destroy the hyacinth. And not just Rickkter who was always headstrong and often erratic, but Kayla, James, and Charles. They had been her dearest companions when they sought to destroy the threat from Marzac. And now they sought to undermine her and to sabotage her hawk, her husband, her Weyden!
Leave them as children.
The idea certainly had appeal, even if only as a bit of a punishment for their ill-behavior. A few days of childhood would be good for them. Perhaps a few weeks for Rickkter. Jessica nodded to herself and pumped her wings to climb back into the thermal proper. And when she raised them up from childhood, they would understand and be her most loyal supporters. But that would only keep them from betraying her again. What could she do about Weyden?
Do as you intended all along.
She had to ponder what that meant for several minutes as the air carried her northwest along the river. The towers of Lord Barnhardt's castle loomed in the distance, as well as the deep blue of the lake. And somewhere her Weyden was waiting for her. He was always so faithful and devoted to her in the past. Why could he not be obedient as well?
A wife should be obedient to her husband.
Jessica felt her chest swell for a moment and she knew what she had to do. The time had come to use her shape-changing abilities on Weyden and herself. She pondered what name she should take once she became the husband.
Master.
That was true. She would now be a Master in guild parlance for her magical trade. But Master what? Jessic perhaps? Yes, she cracked her beak in an avian grin. Master Jessic would do nicely. Master Jessic and his faithful and obedient wife Weyda.
Master.
The air felt good beneath her wings. Lake Barnhardt neared.
The barracks were not suited for children but with nine little ones full of energy and abandon Naomi wasn't sure where better she could keep them. The only room in the barracks big enough for them to run around without injuring themselves was the mess hall where the only things they could climb over or under were the tables and long benches. Naomi had all of the spoons taken elsewhere before they could be shoved down snouts or thrown around the room and she also had her soldiers check for any knives that had been left behind but gratefully there were none. And once she had all nine of the children secure, no small task as they were both strong for their age and size, and in the case of the rat and raccoon squirmed with more energy than an entire raging band of Lutins, she sent for a few older women she knew who would have clothes they could reuse to make the children presentable.
But the children were not happy with being carried and stuffed into the mess hall, and she had a few claw marks and bites on her arms to prove it. At least neither of the skunk children had decided to spray them!
Not ten minutes after Naomi had sequestered all of the children in the mess hall and only a few minutes after all of their clothes and gear were stored and locked in the pantry at the back, a quartet of women headed by the buxom tavern's wife, a brown bear named Christina, arrived to take charge of the children. Christina glanced across the room from beneath her white scarf and crossed her arms, emphasizing the ample providence supplied to her own six children enclosed within a light green bodice and gown.
"Where did these children come from!" Her voice growled with delight as her warm brown eyes melted with motherly affection.
"They aren't really children. It was a magical spell gone wrong," Naomi explained as one of the two giraffes bumped into her thigh and nearly stepped on her foot. "Larssen! Watch where you're going!"
Christina and the other women who had bundles of trousers and tunics for children in their arms, stared wide-eyed in wonder. The bear scratched at the fur beneath her wrist with carefully trimmed claws. "That was Larssen? The soldier from Metamor?"
"Aye. The ram is Captain Dallar. Weyden the hawk is the only one who wasn't struck. He's waiting for his wife to arrive in a few hours. It was her spell that did this; she'll be able to fix it."
"And you need us to clothe them and keep them well behaved?" Naomi nodded. A disapproving glint came into Christina's eyes and a thoughtful twist to her snout. "And they think they are children?" The archer nodded again. "Oh good! That makes this easy."
The bear slapped her paws together and bellowed, "Children! Children! Come to your auntie Christina!" The clap and her booming ursine voice were enough to make all nine heads turn in surprise. Larssen, Dallar, and Van had been playing a game of tag that involved jumping from table to table when they weren't running around the edge of the room. Maud and the girl skunk had settled themselves on their knees and were pretending to serve each other tea. The rat and raccoon were wrestling and rolling about beneath the tables hissing at each other while the donkey and the other skunk kept trying to join in only to be pushed aside. All of that stopped immediately, though the rat and raccoon resumed their struggle after a second's pause.
The two girls came forward, eyes bright and awed in the bear's presence. Dallar, Larssen and Van all tagged each other one more time before rushing over obedient to their auntie. The donkey tugged on the rat's shoulder and pleaded, "We gotta go! C'mon!"
Christina leaned forward slightly and let her voice deepen with a faint growl. "You two! Stop that this instant! Don't make me come over there and paddle your tails!"
The threat caught the rat and raccoon's attention, and the pair scampered toward the door with the rest of them. The rat actually ran on all fours before standing up, his haunches shorter than the others. A terrible black scar covered the right side of his face. He and the raccoon glared at each other, even though the other skunk and the donkey child were standing between them.
"That's much better!" Christina said with prim satisfaction. "Now, which of you good little boys and girls would like to hear your Auntie Christina tell you a story?"
Every paw went up amid bleats, pips, and squeaks of, "Me! Me! Me!"
Christina looked them over quickly, but lingered on each long enough that the children knew she was watching them. "Very good. Now before I can tell you a story, we need to get you dressed. Little children shouldn't be without their clothes! Your aunties all have something for you. Are you going to be good? Tell your auntie Christina that you're going to be good."
"I'll be good!" The girl skunk promised.
"Me too!" the rat squeaked, tilting his head back to gape at the bear. "I'll be good!"
The raccoon stomped one foot. "I'll be better!"
"No you won't! I will!" The rat squeaked back with a glare at the coon.
The two promptly threw themselves at each other, claws and teeth ready. Neither reached the other as both were snatched out of the air by the practiced paws of Christina. The bear grabbed both by the scruff of their neck and pulled them apart, giving each a firm shake. "Now that is no way to behave! What's your name?"
The rat tried to step on his own paws in an attempt to look smaller. "Charles."
"And yours?"
The raccoon tried to give her a defiant stare but he wilted under her imperious, wide snout gaze. "Rickkter."
"Now, Charles, Rickkter, there will be plenty enough time for tumbling later. This is story time. I want you to apologize to each other."
Charles half-lifted his snout so that it sort of pointed in the raccoon's direction. "I'm sorry."
Some of the other children sniggered. The boy giraffe tried to reach down and grab the rat's tail, but a glare from one of the other mother's straightened him out. The raccoon wrinkled his nose in distaste and lowered his ears, but he finally managed a small, "I'm sorry."
Christina rumbled a little chortle of delight. "Good. Now shake paws and then we'll get back to getting you properly dressed. Come on you two... shake paws and make up."
Charles and Rickkter took uncertain steps toward each other. The rat had to look up at the raccoon, but he stood as tall as he could on his haunches, lifting his snout high so that the tip of his nose was even with the raccoon's snout. They both extended paws and after hesitating a few seconds, managed a quick shake before springing back apart like two lodestones improperly aligned.
"Very good! Naomi, can you help us get these little ones dressed?"
Naomi nodded and accepted a small bundle of clothing from one of the mothers while Christina, through bulk, personality, and the experience of six children of her own, directed each of the children with a word and a claw and these finest warriors of Metamor obeyed.
Weyden waited with a pensive heart as he paced back and forth across the barracks roof. The sun fell behind the first of the clouds he'd known were coming from the south, and now those same clouds pressed northward over Lake Barnhardt and toward the Glen. The rains were coming more quickly than he'd thought that morning; they'd be drenched before the sun set.
He noted the clouds and the coming shower only because it meant for a few seconds he wasn't contemplating what to say to his wife when she arrived. On the other side of the barracks roof bloomed the hyacinth, its green stem and purple blossoms turning not to follow the sun but to watch him as he paced, talons digging at the stone roof and gouging the granite blocks. The depression which Jessica had filled with loam and planted the hyacinth smelled both healthy and vile to him, like a store filled with freshly baked bread in which a leper was draining puss from all his sores. No matter how many times he looked at the clouds his eyes always fell back to that flower and his thoughts to Jessica.
Jessica, Jessica, what voices spoke to her mind that convinced her she could do these horrible things? And what could he hope to say that would convince her that she had been corrupted by Marzac? Both Lindsey and Kayla had all of their friends at their sides to help them see what was happening to them. That Åelf... well he had gone off on his own, but what could really tempt an Åelf anyway? And the Binoq and Nauh-kaee had each other and he hoped that was enough. James had a few of his friends at his side and that had been sufficient. All that Jessica would have was him.
Was he enough?
And what if he couldn't do it? What then?
These questions filled him with an agony worse than all the months locked in the dark prison without any hint of sky to cheer his soul. They seared his heart and made him tremble like a new hatched chick. Weyden gasped for each breath with muscles sore as if he'd been flying for weeks. The air grew heavy and crushed him down toward the roof. He folded in on himself, beak lowering between his knees and wings spreading out on either side.
He loved his wife and had given up so much already for her. She had opened his eyes to so much of the world that he'd never imagined. What did he have left that could open her eyes?
His eyes wept.
The children behaved well enough for the quartet of mothers to find clothes for each of them. Apart from the tail holes in the trousers, the only alterations that were needed were a few bits of thread hemming trouser cuffs for the rat, and a few more to tighten the tunic and trousers for both giraffes who were gangly and nearly four hands taller than the rest. They were then settled down to a boisterous story from Christina about a brother and sister who found a strange house made of bread in the woods but was guarded by a pair of two-headed dragon dogs that chased them around and around a large oak tree until they managed to trick the dragon dogs into chasing each other so they could return safely home.
All nine of the children listened with wide eyes and open mouths. Naomi and Thyla the wife of the headmaster of the baker's guild, a spotted lynx who always kept a red sash about her waist, gathered a parcel of little bread cakes, fruit, and some jerky for them to eat and hopefully nap. After the story all of them ate eagerly of the snacks and soon their eye lids grew heavy and they arranged blankets for them to sleep.
Christina eased each of them down in turn, smiling with real delight at the way their eyes closed one by one. The little donkey kicked one of his hooves in his sleep, while the two skunks draped themselves with their tails. After easing the ram down on a soft quilt, making sure his stubby horns didn't catch in anything, the bear stood and wiped her paws on her apron. "I think that should keep them for an hour. Belinda, Elaine, take the rest of these clothes back home. I think the three of us can manage them now."
"Are you sure? We've never had animal children here before." Belinda, a well-fed red fox, said with a suspicious glance at the nine.
"I'm sure they'll have some surprises for us," Christina smiled and grappled her friend in a warm hug. "But I have six of my own. We'll manage. And do tell my husband I should be there when the tavern readies dinner. He always worries so."
Belinda wagged her tail. "We'll let Lester know." She glanced at the napping children with their tails, snouts, hooves and paws and her muzzle creased in a soft smile. "I wish my children had been born this way. They're so adorable!"
"They're really adults," Naomi pointed out, though her own heart melted a little looking at them. "We'll take good care of them until they're adults again. Thank you both for your help."
The two mothers gathered up the unused clothes and departed while Christina and Thyla organized the last of the bread, fruit and jerky for a second snack should any of the children wake. The bear then rested her bulk on one of the benches and smiled, a deep rumble of satisfaction rising from her chest. "Now do you have anything worth drinking here, Naomi?"
"I can fetch us some tea if that is what you are asking."
Thyla laughed and flicked her ears from side to side. "And spare her more of her husband's grog? How could you suggest such a thing!"
"Tea sounds lovely," Christina replied with a wide-snout smile. She let one warm brown eye slide toward the lynx. "And where do you think your husband will be tonight, hmm?"
Thyla rolled her green eyes and shook her head. Naomi chortled under her breath and turned toward one of the pantries to fetch some tea when she noticed that two of the blankets were empty. She scanned the others and tightened her fingers into her palms. "Where are Charles and Rickkter? The rat and raccoon are gone!"
Both Thyla and Christina were on their paws, eyes scanning and ears listening, but neither saw nor heard the two. "Could they have slipped out the door?" Thyla asked.
"No, I saw them all a moment ago. They have to be in here somewhere." Christina bent over, one paw braced on the table, and peered beneath it. "Oh Charles! Oh Rickkter! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
Naomi kept watch over the other seven to keep them from popping up to see what was going on. Thyla and Christina moved between the tables bobbing their heads up and down, sniffing and calling to the rat and raccoon. The male skunk stirred from his nap to peer with his only eye beneath the tables, but a glare from Naomi made him duck his snout beneath his tail again.
A clatter from the rear of the room made both bear and lynx spring up and stomp the length of the hall. The closet in which their gear was stored opened and everything fell to the ground while a little voice squeaked in delight. Thyla was on them in a moment but a pair of paws scampered off beneath the tables.
Christina saw the two of them holding empty scabbards as if they were swords. They popped up between one of the tables and smacked at each other a few times before Thyla managed to turn herself around and tried to grab at the them both. The rat and raccoon scrambled beneath the next table, little paws and tails flicking just out of reach.
The bear tried to get around to corner them, stomping her paws the whole way. "Charles! Rickkter! Now you come out of there and behave yourselves this instant!"
The little rapscallions managed to trade a few more blows before they finally had nowhere else to turn and were forcibly stood on top of one of the tables between both bear and lynx. Scowling snouts reproved them and they looked down, shifting their feet back and forth. Christina glowered at the raccoon and crossed her arms. "Now just what were you planning to do with those?"
"This!" He said, and smacked the rat on top of the head with the end of the scabbard. The rat squeaked and promptly retaliated in kind.
Jessica felt a great deal of relief when she saw the city of Lake Barnhardt spread below her. Despite the wind pushing clouds north a crosscurrent developed just north of the Keep where the valley abruptly widened that slowed her considerably. She made a mental note to spend a few hours every day investigating teleportation magics so this wouldn't happen again.
But the black hawk had finally arrived. She could clearly see the towers of the castle rising up from the water's edge, and one from the lake itself, while the city spread to its north in a wedge between the hills and the lake, wharves lining the lake both inside and outside the city walls. Fishermen plied their trade with haste and wary eye on the storm clouds. Townsfolk went about their business with a scrupulous glance heavenward every so often.
Yet out of all the people looking upward, only one of them was looking for something other than the clouds and sign of rain. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw the red-banded hawk standing on the far-side of the barracks roof looking straight at her with his golden eyes. She circled downward, grateful that this would finally be over.
Rickkter has no doubt poisoned his mind against the hyacinth you planted.
With good cause, she knew. Yonson's hyacinth had been used in the service of a great evil; it only made sense that the raccoon would misinterpret Jessica's use of the flower. Clearly using its forgetfulness as a shield against scrutiny had not worked as well as she hoped. But she would explain and they would understand. Her husband would be the first to understand.
And understand by becoming wife to you, as you shall be her husband.
Yes, that was the logical and utilitarian thing to do. And after a month or two, just like the spell on Rhena, it would become permanent, freeing the hyacinth to power other spells. Of course, she had promised Rhena she would bring her a bulb to plant and tend. With the storm coming she could spend the night in Lake Barnhardt and with the morning soil fresh and soft from the rain claim the bulb for the skunk. That would give her plenty of time to explain things to her friends.
An image came to her of her friends all still children sitting in a semi-circle before a black hawk man listening to him explain very important and deep secrets. If they were going to be difficult, as she knew Rickkter at least would be, she could always keep them children until they were willing to behave.
Weyden waited with wings folded behind him, his eyes never wavering from her as she circled lower and lower until she stretched out her talons and gripped the stone atop the barracks. She swelled in size until she had returned to her usual shape. Jessica spread her wings one last time, casting a glance at the hyacinth which thrummed with warmth and a faint mote of urgency. It did not appear harmed and so she turned to her husband and rushed toward with outstretched wings.
"Oh Weyden! Is everyone else all right?"
"Naomi is looking after them. But you made them children." There was a hurt, accusing tone in his voice. She hated hearing it.
"Just to keep them from hurting the hyacinth," she explained, nuzzling her beak to his own. He let her hold him for several seconds, his posture rigid and tense. "Once they understand how I am using it for good in this Valley then they won't seek to attack the hyacinth."
Weyden's voice seemed empty. "What good are you doing with it, Jessica?"
She leaned her head back and regarded him with a hopeful avian smile. The crease in her hooked beak spread across either cheek as a slight shifting of the soft feathers there, dimpling the glossy down but not brightening it. Her husband's expression was one full of weariness, gentleness, and something else she could not identify. It was a hardness, a determination almost, that alarmed some part of her. She admired his courage, for courage was a virtue that both men and women should display, but what she glimpsed here in this, her sweet hawk, was something different from courage. Defiance perhaps? Desperation? Or surrender?
"You know of Maud and Larssen. How difficult would it have been for them to bring forth children while Maud was human and Larssen a giraffe? You know, my love, that is something they have long desired to share with each other. Maud always said that size didn't matter, but you know in your heart that they would have never been able to be together if not for my spell to make her into a giraffe. The first time I tried to make her a giraffe I nearly fainted from exhaustion holding the spell in place, and that after only a few seconds! Once I planted the hyacinth and bound the spell to it she was able to stay a giraffe. At first it only lasted a short while until I learned how to properly attach my spells to the flower. Now she's been a giraffe for a month and the connection is only growing stronger. Weyden, my sweet and wonderful Weyden, don't you see how much happier both Maud and Larssen are now that they are both giraffes? Isn't this much better?"
Her hawk's eyes narrowed as much as they were able and his chest seemed to deflate a little. "Aye. I see that. They are happier. I hope there is a way for Maud to stay a giraffe. Maybe there is another way a way that does not use the hyacinth."
There is no other way. No other incunabulum is a reservoir for magic in the way a hyacinth is.
"There is no other way," Jessica repeated, stroking one wing down the side of her husband's face. She could feel the plant behind her swelling in warmth, the pool of magic a thing of sparkling beauty and impenetrable depth. It nourished her as much as her spells. "I researched a long time, my love, but I found no other incunabulum that could serve as a reservoir for magic the way the hyacinth can. And the way that it has. And it has accomplished so much good! So many lives have been saved because of this one plant. Think of Lindsey! Thanks to my magic and the power in this plant I was able to protect him and help him get close enough to that loathsome Calephas! Now Calephas is dead and all of Arabarb is free and may soon be a firm ally of Metamor! Is that not wonderful? Is that not good?"
His posture tightened and a reluctant nod seemed to escape his head. The words were hissed, as if he were trying to scare away a larger predator or convince them to find some other prey than the one lying dead at his talons. "Much good has come from Lindsey's actions in Arabarb. But if he were here he would tell you the same thing. You have to let go of the hyacinth, my sweet."
Rickkter has certainly poisoned his mind if these two examples do not convince him! He will understand better as Weyda.
Jessica could feel the hyacinth's roots twisting deeper into the soil and piercing the stone blocks of the barracks roof and balustrade wall. The blossoms turned gently in their direction, rivers of light pouring across the petals to rush over the moss-strewn stones and bathe their talons. A moment's exercise of will and it would be done; Weyden would become Weyda and the strange resistance and breach of trust with Jessica would come to an end. Jessica wasn't ready to force the issue just yet. Surely she could yet convince him and regain his trust and cooperation. Once she had that she would transform them both with that vibrant silver and purple light into what they must be for Jessica's work to flourish.
"But it has served not just Larssen and Maud, nor just Lindsey and the people of Arabarb." She slid her wing behind his own and coaxed him toward the hyacinth. Weyden tightened his grip on the stones below, but she continued to press at his back. "Norbert and Richard will soon be husband and wife at long last! You know what scandal they have caused the Fellowship over the years. Thanks to the hyacinth that has been brought to an end, a happy ending at that! Oh, Weyden, my sweet and strong, Weyden, I have been able to help them and so many other families at Metamor. What the Curses did to them, to tear them apart and bring such hardship I have been able to make amends! Without the hyacinth they would continue to suffer. Do you really want them to suffer?"
"Suffering is good for the soul," Weyden replied with a shake of his head. "I suffered four months in prison because of Yonson and his hyacinth. I was once Captain of the ambassador's guards, and now I'm a mere soldier in Metamor's army without rank or distinction. I will never have a command of my own again. All of that has been a difficult and deep suffering I have been forced to endure. I will never see my family or any of my friends in Tournemire again; do you not think I miss them?"
Jessica pressed at his back more firmly watching the hyacinth with her left eye and her recalcitrant husband with her right. "Aye, suffering can be good for the soul. I suffered without you those many months as we journeyed to Marzac to defeat that terrible evil. And now I love you even more knowing we both have such courage! But, is it not wrong of me to see another suffering and to do nothing for them? The hyacinth has given me the strength to help so many who have been suffering. And there are so many more who I can still help with its strength. Wouldn't it be a terrible sin to see that, to have the power to do something about it, and to just walk on by? Would you love me if I could be callous to the suffering of others?"
Bring him closer. Loosen his grip.
Jessica's eyes flicked to the magic only she could see flowing around their talons. It was over a hand deep now and still climbing. She touched the eddying current with her mind and Weyden's talons slipped free of the stone. He took a few stumbling steps forward before tightening his grip again and pushing her away with his wings. "You talk about all the good you have done with this hyacinth, Jessica. You talk about it and I want to believe you. I do believe that you mean good for those you have said. But I know of at least one you have not said and you did not mean good for him!"
Do not stop now. Bring him closer and he will trust and obey you always.
Undeterred, she slipped to his side and more forcefully pressed her wing at his back. A little tendril of magic snaked up his leg, through his red-banded feathers, and circled round where his wing met his back. The muscles weakened and the wing folded between them. Jessica eased his talons loose and together they began a slow walk toward the hyacinth. The leaves spread wide in a welcoming invitation, while the blossoms all turned like a many-eyed head to watch them. The petals twisted as they gushed forth their brilliant power, a power that went forth but also returned, absorbed by the roots as much as any nutrients they took from the soil and from water. The hyacinth seemed to smile.
"Weyden, my love. It is good what I am doing. No matter whether the person I cast my spells upon requests them or not, it is what each of them need for the pains in their lives to be healed. Maud didn't ask me to make her a giraffe did she? No. I suggested it and after much coaxing convinced her to let me try. Only then did she realize how much her heart yearned for that more closer union with Larssen."
"And Kuna?"
The name was spat with such acid that Jessica felt as if she'd been slapped. She stopped pushing her hawk toward the hyacinth and turned to face him fully. "What do you know of Kuna?"
"I was there when you reduced him to a child! All because he had the effrontery to ask you to teach him the magic you used on him and so many others, that of bending and manipulating the Curses! You destroyed him for nothing more than irritation at his ego and chicanery!"
"Destroyed him?" Jessica gasped in surprise that so pejorative a word would be used to describe what she had done to the meerkat. "I never destroyed him! Kuna destroyed himself when he manipulated the other members of the guild into electing him Headmaster. Why should anyone else ever trust him again? He would have used my magic for ill, to advance himself at the expense of his betters."
He is distracting you from what is important.
Jessica felt the hyacinth's growing need and insistent desire to correct what had gone wrong between her and Weyden. She resumed easing him forward. Another dozen paces and they would be beneath the purple blossoms and within reach of its green, grass-like blades. Despite the hyacinth's admonition, she wanted desperately to explain herself so that Weyden would understand on his own. "I helped Kuna by making him a child."
"How is that helping him? How did making Rickkter, Charles, and all of our friends into children help them?" Weyden's eyes were no longer defiant but trembled in fear, limpid with the visage of the ravenous blossoms. He struggled with all of his limbs, but her spells made such resistance feeble. His steps were slow but they matched her own, talons scraping stone as they drew nearer the mound of earth from which her reservoir of magical power sprang; her incunabulum; her hyacinth.
"Kuna destroyed himself. But now, as a child, he can finally find that which he has always yearned for; acceptance. Do you know he has taken up with a small gang of urchins living in Metamor? I have seen them playing together, sharing the food they've stolen or begged, and sleeping together for warmth. They are dearest friends and brothers and they have accepted Kuna as one of their own. For the first time in his life he actually knows his worth and is surrounded by others who see it and welcome it. For the first time in his life he is truly happy! Like so many, my love, he merely did not know what it was he really needed. I gave that to him. I saw it in a moment, in a heart's breath that he needed to be a child. He needed to lose all pretense to honor and position to find what he had always hungered for. I did him a good of incalculable worth!
"Just as I have done for our friends. I kept them from destroying this hyacinth which is the source of so much good at Metamor. Please, my Weyden. It is time for you to join with me in this work."
"No! Jessica, please listen to me!"
She eased him forward another step. The stalk of purple blossoms bent forward like a sovereign greeting his subjects. "I am listening to you, Weyden. But you must listen to and trust me. Rickkter was right to destroy the first hyacinth. But he is wrong about this one. Do not trust him."
"I went to him, Jessica!" Weyden snapped, struggling against her grip, his voice rising an octave in his alarm at the moving plant. "I told him about what you did to Kuna! He didn't know who Kuna was. Nobody remembers Kuna but you and I! You've made them all forget with this hyacinth!"
"A kindness for Kuna and others. If people forget they will not single him out for further ridicule even if they did see him as a child. And some do not wish to remember their former lives; the oblivion the hyacinth provides the mind is a sweet nepenthe that heals; it is a good and a mercy. You will understand."
"It is an abomination!"
She felt anger flare in her heart at his words but she stilled it. This was her dearest love.
When you make of him Weyda, she will understand.
"It is time, isn't it?" she asked, turning toward the plant.
Yes.
"Will you heal his wounds?"
Yes.
Weyden stammered and tried to spread his wings, but could only manage the one not pinned between them. "Jessica, who are you talking to? Are you talking to the plant? Is it talking back to you?"
"It is nothing to be afraid of. In a moment I will use the magic on us both. We will be bathed in a new life, a new anointing of magic, transformed and renewed in our marriage vows. Only you will become Weyda my loyal wife, and I Jessic your noble husband. You will be able to lay us eggs and care for them while I continue this good work of healing the suffering of the Curses here at Metamor. We can have a family and bring the power of the Curses under control for everyone. Please trust me, my sweet hawk. Trust me as you have always trusted me."
Weyden's expression filled with a terrifying horror. "You want to... you... how?" His squawks seemed to drain of all energy and to her surprise he collapsed forward, pushing himself up into a supplicant squat. He folded his wings and clasped what hands he had as if he were praying. His voice seemed resigned but the strength had come back. "Jessica, I love you with all of my heart and would die for you without hesitation. You are my life and I will love you no matter what you do to me or to anyone else."
The hyacinth loomed closer, but she could feel a sullen impatience in it. A few feet more and its sinews could embrace her husband. "Your voice, my hawk, I can tell that you do not believe that I am doing good."
"You aren't," Weyden said through clenched eyes. She leaned forward and pushed her wing against his shoulder but this time he would not be moved. Her will spun about the pool of magic in which he knelt and pressed up on his knees to force him to stand. His will fought her, but slowly, inch by inch, he began to rise. "Just like Kayla thought she was doing good even though all her friends tried to stop her. You are doing the same thing as she tried to do."
Jessica tensed, her control of the magic faltering for a moment.
You are not under the power of Marzac.
"I am not under the power of Marzac!"
Rickkter and Murikeer examined you at great length and saw nothing.
"Rickkter and Murikeer examined me at great length, even just the other day, but saw nothing there."
"Rickkter was with Kayla every day, yet could not see the taint before his very eyes."
There is no taint on you.
"There is no taint on me, my hawk."
Weyden shook his head. "Kayla heard the voice of Vissarion assuring her that she was doing the right thing. You speak to the hyacinth. Does it assure you that you are doing the right thing?"
Vissarion was corrupted by Marzac. The hyacinth is a plant, a tool of which you make use and nothing more.
Jessica sighed and rested one wing on her husband's shoulder, urging him again through her magic to rise. "Vissarion was corrupted by Marzac many centuries ago. The hyacinth is just a plant. I was the one that gave it the ability to store power and bring forgetfulness to those in need. Not Marzac. It is nothing more than a tool that I have made use of."
It assists, it does not guide you.
"It assists me, it does not guide me."
Weyden squawked, a plaintive sound like a chick would make and not a mature hawk. "It has made you lose trust in all of your friends! It has turned you against them!"
Not against them. They merely do not see as they should. You will help them. You will condition them for the work ahead.
"It has not turned me against anyone," Jessica repeated with a heavy sigh. She stretched out one wing and brushed the feathers across one of the green petals framing the blossom stalk. "Our friends... they do not see the hyacinth and my work as they should. But I will help them. I will prepare them... condition them for the work ahead."
"Condition them? Jessica, do you even hear yourself?"
Once they feel my touch they will be enthusiastic helpers in the work. Once they feel my touch they will understand. You will subject each of them to one of the Curses. Change the gender of those who are beasts, and make those who are children into beasts as is proper.
Jessica willed her husband to rise, pushing more and more power beneath his tail feathers. His knees unbent as her tongue conveyed the hyacinth's words, the power suffusing her with such sublime sweetness as of honey from the comb. "Once they feel the touch of the hyacinth, once I have transformed them, they will understand and become enthusiastic helpers in the work. I think I will do for those already cursed to be animals the same as I mean to do for us. Charles to Charlene perhaps, Rickkter to Richta, Dallar to Dolly, Kayla to Kavin; I suppose I cannot leave Charles's children without a father... the Lady Kimberly can become... Lord Kamber perhaps. Van I can make into an animal like us, perhaps another hawk, or maybe a wolf or ram. All of us can be friends again and working together to bring about the great changes that must be made!"
Weyden struggled to crouch back down, his eye warily on the hyacinth and its blossoms which squeezed as if lips puckering for a delectable treat. Only a few inches separated them now. "This is madness, Jessica! This is Marzac speaking! Please, do not do this! If you love me, do not do this!"
"If I love you?" Jessica paused in horror at the suggestion that she could ever do anything less than love her hawk. "Of course I love you, Weyden!"
Do you not love and trust me?
"Do you not love and trust me?"
Her hawk stared into her eyes with an intensity that only hook-beaked birds possessed. He hissed his words, "Do you not love and trust me? Do you not trust me, Jessica? Is it not I who you love? What worth is your great work if you do not love me and trust me!"
"I do!" Jessica replied, heart aching from the sting. "You just don't understand."
"I understand that you are about to make me an obedient wife to something that frightens me to tears. I love you, Jessica and always will. But you do not love me and trust me if you do this. Will you not do what the one you love asks of you? Stop this madness!"
The words were like a knife to her heart, piercing into something deep that had been buried and forgotten. Rocked back on her talons, the hyacinth vainly quivering and puckering its blossoms over the red-banded hawk's head, Jessica remembered a creaky room rocking back and forth on the sea as they made their way north against the winter currents. In that room had been several comfortable beds for women, a small iron stove for heat, and all of her friends gathered around a red-furred kangaroo weeping over an oozing black thing trying to crawl back into her pouch.
A brilliant flash of steel and that black thing was destroyed, severed in twain and then carried out to the sea in a canister from which its evil could not escape. But something else had burned, something vastly important that should never have been forgotten. She recalled it, the hawk did, clearly captured between her wing claws. The parchment was burnt through and the writing, once pristine and ever so carefully laid out, charred into ash. But one line had remained, one line clear that spoke of something that had immediately made her heart turn with miserable longing to the very hawk she saw before her, the very hawk whom she had married and swore vows of fidelity before the gods.
'Do always what the one you love asks of you.'
She breathed those words with a gasp, eyes roving from the hyacinth to her husband and back again. In a weak voice she asked, "I love you, Weyden. What do you want me to do?"
Weyden shifted back as much as he could from the plant. Tendrils were snaking out of the ground toward his legs. One of them brushed against a toe and he squawked in alarm, unable to break free. "Destroy the hyacinth! It is corrupting you!"
He does not understand. Bring him to me and he shall.
Jessica felt the compulsion to obey the voice of the hyacinth and for a single moment she moved to comply. But she balked, those remembered words filling her heart and clearing her sight. The purple blossoms were not coated in a brilliant silvery light as she had first thought; rather they spewed forth a darkness like mucus and lapped it back up again as if it were drool and it a ravening beast slavering over its meal. Those bands of light stretching out to everyone who she had connected to the hyacinth were riddled with necrotic, black fissures pulsing like arteries through the magic. Good that she had done? At what cost?
With a cry of anguish and shame, she drove her will into the dark tendrils encircling her husband. The blow knocked them both backward. Weyden sprawled across the stone gasping for breath.
What do you think you are doing? You need the power of a hyacinth for your great work!
Jessica shrank in size until she could flap her wings and rise a few feet from the roof. The hyacinth's tendrils lifted to reach for her and drag her back down. The blossoms opened and closed as the stalk stretched for her. Inside the bottom of each purple blossom she thought she saw row upon row of red, glistening fangs.
"The great work of Marzac? No I do not! Now burn!" She felt the fire swell along her wings and with one more flap she struck the base of the plant. She felt the scream in her mind as the inferno consumed every blade and every blossom in jets or orange and yellow. The plant thrashed in its bed, the veins of fire following down into each root as Jessica sent cascade after cascade of energy into its base. She wept with the shame of everything she had done, as the veins of magic radiating outward from the hyacinth flared with vermillion iridescence and winked out.
Jessica collapsed on the roof, wings and talons sprawled beneath her as she gasped for breath between her sobs. Like a fog, the confusion of the last two months began to disperse, allowing her to see anew what she had wrought. And it filled her with loathing and shame.
She felt a wing touching her back, and then two wings enfolding her and lifting her up. She could not open her eyes to see, but allowed herself to be pressed within that warm embrace. She felt a hooked beak preening the back of her neck. In that embrace and with that touch she knew she was safe. But she could not stop the weeping.
"My Jessica, my lovely hawk, my wife," the voice of her husband said with such strength and warmth that she ached anew at what she had nearly done to him. "It is over now."
"We have to destroy the roots and bulbs," she blubbered.
"Then stand and do it. I know you can."
He helped her find her feet. His wing propped her own and steadied her as she tried to blink away the tears. How much anguish would there be throughout Metamor with the spells broken? How much anger would there be at her from those whom she changed against their will? Justified anger. What of Lindsey? Would he turn into an adult dragon or would he look like a young dragon still? And what of Berchem? The spell making him Rhena had nearly united with his skunk curse. Was he going to change back or was he trapped as Rhena still, only with all his memories returned to him?
How many messes was she going to be cleaning up in the days and weeks ahead?
Together the two hawks walked toward the scorched plot of earth. The blackened soil was covered in a haze of smoke and ash. The blossoms, the stalk, and the fronds were all a ruin collapsed in on themselves. It was hard to tell if there was any life left in the bed, but this time they would be certain of it. Her wing arms aching, Jessica stretched out her wing claws and grasped the sullen fabric of magic, winding it into a spell. The blackened earth warmed their legs, and then became scalding hot as it glowed a burnished brass. More smoke rose from that plot of earth as every mote of dirt was charred into clumps of ash. The feathers on their legs began to sizzle and blacken but they stayed there together, wave after wave of molten heat pummeling them with the power of a forge. Even the stones around the plot of earth in which the hyacinth once stood began to glow.
Jessica released the spell and the two of them danced backward, their legs and talons seared with pain. But the plot of earth was a barren lacuna of ash and nothing more. No bulb, no root, no blade remained of the hyacinth.
Above them the clouds broke and a patter of rain fell. It sizzled in the plot, hissing with the satisfaction of a well-fed serpent. The droplets of cool rain felt wonderful on their legs. Weyden nudged his wife and gestured to the sky and to their legs. Wordlessly she nodded, crafting another spell that soothed the burns. It took a minute for their legs to move again, but the pain was slight and the rain was gaining in strength.
"We should see the others," Weyden suggested, pointing to the open hatch. "They're waiting for us."
"We could jump off the side. It would be easier."
He shook his head. "They are expecting us this way."
Jessica nodded. "Lead me."
He gave her a tender nuzzle with his beak. "I will."