He saw himself coming down the mountain, exhausted yet running as fast as he had ever run.
He saw smoke, and death, and fire. And he saw a man on a black horse.
Raven! he shouted as he sat up.
A woman gripped his shoulders and said, Calmly. Relax. Youre going to be fine.
Talon realized that he was drenched with perspiration. He felt light-headed. His bandaged body shook with a sudden chill as bumps rose on his arms. He looked around the room.
The room he was in was white with several finely made pieces of furniture, and through a large window he could see a blue sky, a warm day. A scented breeze blew through the window and he could hear voices in the distance.
Where am I?
The woman stood up. Youre among friends. I will get Magnus.
Talon fell back against a trio of heavy pillows stuffed with soft down. He rested naked between sheets of fine white cloth, unlike anything he had seen before. The sheets were drenched, and he knew he had just broken a fever. Bandages covered his shoulder, back, his ribs on the left side, both thighs, and his right calf.
A few minutes later, Magnus appeared with the woman a step behind him. How are you feeling? asked the white-haired magician.
Lying back on the pillows, Talon said, I couldnt fight a kitten.
Magnus sat on the side of the bed and put his hand on Talons forehead. Fevers gone. He put his thumb on the top of Talons left eyelid and lifted it slightly. So is the jaundice.
What happened? Talon asked.
Magnus said, Its a long tale. The short version is that someone sent three death-dancers to kill me. They found you instead.
Death-dancers?
Ill explain it all, at length, but for now you need to rest. Are you hungry?
Talon nodded. I could eat.
The woman said, Ill get some broth, and left the room.
How long have I been like this? asked Talon.
Ten days.
Ive been here ten days?
Magnus nodded. You almost died, Talon. Had you been just about anywhere other than this island, you almost certainly would have done. Perhaps a powerful temple priest might have saved you, but few apart from those living here would have possessed the skills to keep you alive.
The death-dancers touch is poison, so even if the kill isnt clean, the victim rarely survives.
How did I get here?
When the death-dancers set foot upon the shore, some of us knew instantly something was amiss. We hurried back to the hut once it was clear no attack was mounted here. The death-dancers expected to find a magician, alone in the hut, and instead they found a swordsman.
Had they been hunting you, you would have died without knowing who struck you down. But they were prepared for magical resistance rather than cold steel and that bought you enough time for us to rescue you.
Thank you, said Talon. Who is us?
Myself, and others, said Magnus. He stood up as the woman returned with a large bowl of broth and a slice of bread on a tray.
Talon elbowed himself up so that he could eat, but the exertion made his head swim. The woman sat down next to him and picked up the spoon and rather than object, he allowed her to feed him. She was a beautiful woman, possibly in her middle thirties, with dark hair, striking blue eyes and a firm set to her mouth that made her appear stern.
He glanced from her face to Magnuss and between spoonfuls of steaming broth, said, I can see a resemblance. You never said you had a sister.
The woman smiled and Magnus did as well, and the resemblance became even more pronounced. The woman said, You flatter me.
Talon, meet Miranda, my mother.
Talon swallowed and said, I find that difficult to believe. If anything, she looked younger than her son.
Believe it, said Miranda. This is a very remarkable place.
Talon said nothing and continued to eat. When he was finished, Miranda set aside the bowl. At once he started, What
Not now, she interrupted. You will have time to ask questions, later, but for now you must rest.
Talons curiosity was overwhelmed by his fatigue, and even before she had left the room, his eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and rhythmic.
Two days after he had regained consciousness, Talon was allowed to get up and walk about. Magnus lent him a staff, which Talon leaned on, since both his legs were weak and sore from his injuries, and he hobbled along next to the magician, who said: Welcome to Villa Beata.
Thats the name of this place?
Yes, it means Beautiful home in an ancient tongue.
They were in a large courtyard, surrounded by a low wall. The buildings around them were all white plastered, with red tile roofs.
Ive never imagined a place like this.
Those who built it were less worried about defending this place than they were about comfort. There are many stories about how it came to be.
Do you know the truth?
Magnus smiled. I dont. My father claimed to have heard the truth on the subject, but the man who told him the story was known to make inventions when it suited him, so we may never know how this place came to exist.
Is this your home?
This is where I grew up, yes, said Magnus.
Talon looked around and his eyes grew wide as he saw a creature with blue skin and silver horns carrying a large basket of wet laundry around the corner and into a building. What was that? he asked.
That was Regar, a Cahlozian. You will find many people here who look nothing like you or me, Talon. Just remember they are still people. You would be as out of place in his homeland as you think him to be here.
Talon said, Before I met you, Magnus, I would have thought him a thing of campfire tales, and when I saw him during my illness, I thought him part of a fever dream. Now, I begin to think little can surprise me.
Oh, just wait a bit, my young friend. There are surprises aplenty waiting for you. But for now, just enjoy the warm afternoon and walk around these grounds for a while. You need to rebuild your strength.
As they walked slowly around the compound, Talon caught a glimpse of people scurrying here and there upon errands, most looking very normal, but one or two decidedly not. The walk caused him some shortness of breath, so he saved his questions for later, but he did manage to pause long enough to ask, Magnus, who was trying to kill you?
That, my young friend, replied the magician, is a very long story.
Talon smiled; it hurt too much to laugh. I dont seem to be going anywhere for a long while.
From behind him, a voice said, A sense of humour. Thats good.
Talon turned and saw a small, frail looking man standing behind them. He was bald-headed and wore a simple tunic that closed over his left shoulder, leaving the right bare. Upon his feet were cross-gartered sandals, and he held a staff in his left hand. Across his shoulder hung a bag, and his face appeared ancient, yet possessed an almost childlike quality. Dark eyes studied Talon, eyes with a strange, almond-shaped cast to them.
Magnus said, Talon, this is Nakor. With a slight change in tone that Talon didnt quite understand, Magnus added, Hes one of my teachers.
Nakor nodded and said, Some of the time. At other times I felt more like a cell guard. Magnus when young was quite a troublemaker.
Nakor nodded and said, Some of the time. At other times I felt more like a cell guard. Magnus when young was quite a troublemaker.
Talon glanced at Magnus, who frowned, but didnt dispute the claim. Magnus appeared about to say something, but it was Nakor who spoke.
As for your question, young fellow, its quite a tale, and one that youll need to hear, but not right now.
Talon looked from face to face, saw a silent exchange between the two men, and realized that somehow Nakor was telling Magnus not to speak any more on the subject of the attack.
Nakor said, Magnus, I believe your father wanted to speak to you.
Lifting an eyebrow slightly, Magnus replied, No doubt. Turning to Talon, he said, Ill leave you to Nakors tender mercies and advise you not to wear yourself out. Youve been badly injured and need rest and food more than anything.
Nakor said, Ill see him back to his room.
Talon bid Magnus good day and turned back towards his own quarters. His legs were trembling by the time he got back to his bed, and Nakor helped him get in.
There was something about the seemingly frail little man that intrigued Talon. He was certain there was a great deal of strength to him, and more. Yet Magnuss former teacher had said nothing as they walked back.
Nakor?
Yes, Talon?
When will I know?
Nakor studied the young mans face, and saw how he fought to keep his eyes open. When fatigue finally overwhelmed Talon, and his eyes closed, Nakor answered. Soon, Talon, soon.
A week went by and Talons strength returned. He watched with interest as his bandages finally came off and discovered a set of scars which would have done any senior member of his clan proud. Not yet twenty years of age, he looked like a veteran of many battles, a man twice his age. For a moment he felt a profound sadness, for he realized there was no one among his people to whom he could reveal these marks of a warrior. And as his hand strayed absently to his face, he realized that even if any such survivor existed, he had no tattoos upon his face to reveal that he was of the Orosini.
Miranda removed the last bandage and noticed the gesture. Thinking of something?
My people, said Talon.
Miranda nodded. Many of us come from hardship, Talon. The stories you might hear on this island alone would teach you that you are not alone. She sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. Some here are refugees, fleeing from murder and bloodshed, much as you have, and others are survivors, as you are, who have also lost everything of their homes.
What is this place, Miranda? Magnus avoids my questions, and Nakor always turns the conversation to something
Frivolous?
Talon smiled. He can be funny at times.
Dont let that grin fool you, boy, Miranda said as she patted his hand. He may be the most dangerous man Ive met.
Nakor?
Nakor, she echoed, standing up. Now, wait here and rest a bit longer, and someone will be along shortly.
For what? he asked, feeling very restless and wanting to get out of the room.
To take you somewhere.
Where?
As she left his quarters, she said, Youll see.
Talon lay back upon his bed. His body was stiff and aching, and he felt the need to be out doing something, if only for a little while, to stretch his muscles and force air deep into his lungs. He wanted to run, or climb, or stalk a deer in the woods. Even fishing would be welcome, for the hike down to the beach and back would work up a sweat.
Talon closed his eyes and drifted off into his memories of the men sitting around telling stories before a bright fire in the long house. He thought of the cleansing rituals, for which special buildings were constructed as the snows receded from the slopes of the mountains, where billowing steam from heated rocks would engulf the gathered groups of ten or more men and women, boys and girls who would chant a welcome to the spring and then remove the winters accumulated dirt and grime.
He thought of his father and mother and sadness rose up in him. The harsh bitterness he had felt for the first year after the destruction of his people had been replaced by a quiet wistfulness, a resignation to the fact that he was the last of the Orosini and that to him fell the burden of revenge, but beyond that point, his future was unknown to him.
He was drifting, half in a doze, when suddenly he felt someone enter the room.
His eyes snapped open and his heart raced, then he looked up into the face of a young woman he had never seen before. Her face was dominated by the most startling blue eyes he had ever seen, large and the colour of cornflowers. Her face was delicate, with a fine chin, full mouth, and almost perfectly straight nose. Her hair was the colour of pale honey, with lighter streaks from the sun. She wore a simple blue dress, with bare arms and a scooped neckline, one he had seen many of the women at this place wearing, but on her it looked magnificent, for she had a tall, slender body and moved like a hunter.
You are Talon?
Yes, he said, having to force that single word through his teeth, for she took his breath away.
Follow me, she said.
He rose and followed her as she left the room. Outside, he managed to catch up enough to walk next to her and asked, What is your name?
She turned and regarded him with a serious expression, dipping her chin slightly as if to see him better. Then she smiled and suddenly her face seemed alight. She spoke in soft tones, her voice almost musical, as she answered, I am Alysandra.
He could not think of anything to say. She robbed him of words. Any memory he had of Lela or Meggie vanished before the beauty of this young woman and suddenly an ache sprung up in his stomach.
They crossed a large courtyard and moved towards part of the main house that Talon had never visited before.
All too quickly, she turned and said, In there, pointing to a doorway. Then, without waiting, she departed, leaving him standing open-mouthed as he watched her retreat across the courtyard, everything about her tightening the knot in his stomach. He watched for what seemed only an instant and then she vanished through a doorway and he was left alone before the door.
After a moment he gathered himself and regarded the door. It was a simple thing of wood with a single handle. He gripped the handle and entered.
Three men stood in an empty room. Two of them Talon recognized: Nakor and Robert.
Master! Talon said in surprise.
Robert nodded and said, Stand there, Talon. He pointed to a spot in the middle of the room.
The third man was short, with a beard and dark hair, and he regarded the young man with a gaze that caused Talon some discomfort. There was no mistaking that this man had power. His bearing alone showed that, but there was more to it than that. In the time spent with Magnus and Robert before him, Talon had come to sense something of the magic arts in a man, and this man fairly reeked of them.
He spoke. My name is Pug. I am also called the Black Sorcerer.
Talon nodded, saying nothing.
Pug continued. This is my island and all who dwell upon it are my friends and students.
Robert said, Pug was my teacher, as was Nakor, Talon.
Talon remained silent.
Nakor said, The attack of the death-dancers has changed things, boy. We had been evaluating your progress and were waiting to judge you.