Mothers idea of simple and mine were miles apart, however.
The tail-feathers are too short, she said critically after my third attempt. Try it again.
It took me hours to get the imagined shape right. I was almost on the verge of giving up entirely. If I got the tail right, the beak was wrong or the talons. Then the wing-feathers werent soft enough. Then the chest wasnt strong enough. Then the eyes were too small. I was right at the edge of abandoning the whole notion when mother said, That looks closer. Now just let yourself flow into it. Mothers ability to see into my mind made her the best teacher I could possibly have had.
As I started to slip myself into the image Id formed, I felt as if my body had turned into something almost liquid like honey. I literally seeped into that imaginary shape.
And then it was done. I was a snowy owl. Once again, mothers intimate contact with my mind simplified things enormously. There are far too many things involved in flying for anyone to pick it up immediately, so mother quite simply instilled all those minuscule shifts and dexterity in my mind. I thrust with my soft wings, and I was immediately airborne. I circled a few times, learning with every silent sweep of my wings, and those circles grew inexorably wider.
Theres an ecstasy to flying that I wont even try to describe. By the time dawn began to stain the eastern horizon, I was a competent bird, and my mind was filled with a joy Id never known before.
Youd better go back to the tower, Pol, mother advised. Owls arent usually flying in the daytime.
Do I have to?
Yes. Lets not give our little secret away just yet. Youll have to change to your own form as well.
Mother! I protested vehemently.
We can play again tomorrow night, Pol. Now go home and change back before anyone wakes up.
That didnt make me too happy, but I did as I was told.
It was not long after that that Beldaran took me to one side. Uncle Beldins bringing father back to the Vale, she told me.
Oh? How do you know that?
Mother told me in a dream.
A dream? That startled me.
She always talks to me in my dreams. I told you about that already.
I decided not to make an issue of it, but I reminded myself to have a talk with mother about it. She always came to me when I was awake, but for some reason she spoke to my sister in the hazy world of dreams. I wondered why there was such a difference. I also wondered why mother had told Beldaran about our vagrant fathers homecoming and hadnt bothered to let me know about it.
It was early summer when uncle Beldin finally brought father home. Over the course of the years since father had left the Vale, uncle Beldin had kept track of him and had reported on his various escapades, so I was not just too excited about his return. The idea of admitting that a beer-soaked lecher was my father didnt appeal to me all that much.
He didnt look too bad when he came up the stairs to the top of Beldins tower, but I knew that appearances could be deceiving.
Father! Beldaran exclaimed, rushing across the floor to embrace him. Forgiveness is a virtue, I suppose, but sometimes Beldaran carried it to extremes.
I did something that wasnt very nice at that point. My only excuse was that I didnt want father to get the mistaken impression that his homecoming was a cause for universal rejoicing. I didnt quite hate him, but I definitely didnt like him. Well, Old Wolf, I said in as insulting a tone as I could manage, I see youve finally decided to come back to the scene of the crime.
Chapter 3
Then I proceeded to give my father a piece of my mind several pieces, actually. I told him at length precisely what I thought of him, since I didnt want him to mistakenly believe that Beldarans sugary display of sweetness and light was going to be universal. I also wanted to assert my independence, and Im fairly sure I got that point across to him. It wasnt really very attractive, but I was only thirteen at the time, so I still had a few rough edges.
All right, lets get something out in the open right here and now. Im no saint, and I never pretended to be. Ive been occasionally referred to as Holy Polgara, and thats an absolute absurdity. In all probability the only people wholl really understand my feelings as a child are those who are twins themselves. Beldaran was the absolute center of my life, and she had been since before we were born. Beldaran was mine, and my jealousy and resentment knew no bounds when father usurped her affection. Beldaran and her every thought belonged to me, and he stole her! My snide comment about the scene of the crime started something that went on for eons. Id spend hours polishing those snippy little comments, and I treasured each and every one of them.
Many of you may have noticed that the relationship between me and my father is somewhat adversarial. I snipe at him, and he winces. That started when I was thirteen years old, and it didnt take long for it to turn into a habit thats so deeply engrained in me that I do it automatically now.
One other thing as well. Those who knew Beldaran and me when we were children have always assumed that I was the dominant twin, the one who took the lead in all twinly matters. In actuality, however, Beldaran was dominant. I lived almost entirely for her approval, and in some ways I still do. There was a serene quality about Beldaran that I could never match. Perhaps it was because mother had instilled Beldarans purpose in her mind before we were ever born. Beldaran knew where she was going, but I hadnt the foggiest notion of my destination. She had a certainty about her I could never match.
Father endured my ill-tempered diatribe with a calm grace that irritated me all the more. I finally even lapsed into some of the more colorful aspects of uncle Beldins vocabulary to stress my discontent not so much because I enjoyed profanity, but more to see if I could get some kind of reaction out of father. I was just a little miffed by his calm indifference to my sharpest digs.
Then in the most off-hand way imaginable, father casually announced that my sister and I would be moving into his tower to live with him.
My language deteriorated noticeably at that point.
After father had left uncle Beldins tower, Beldaran and I spoke at some length in twin.
If that idiot thinks for one minute that were going to move in with him, hes in for a very nasty surprise, I declared.
He is our father, Polgara, Beldaran pointed out.
Thats not my fault.
We must obey him.
Have you lost your mind?
No, as a matter of fact, I havent. She looked around uncle Beldins tower. I suppose wed better start packing.
We must obey him.
Have you lost your mind?
No, as a matter of fact, I havent. She looked around uncle Beldins tower. I suppose wed better start packing.
Im not going anyplace, I told her.
Thats up to you, of course.
I was more than a little startled. Youd go off and leave me alone? I asked incredulously.
Youve been leaving me alone ever since you found the Tree, Pol, she reminded me. Are you going to pack or not?
It was one of the few times that Beldaran openly asserted her authority over me. She normally got what she wanted in more subtle ways.
She went to a cluttered area of uncle Beldins tower and began rummaging around through the empty wooden boxes uncle had stacked there.
I gather from the tone of things that you girls are having a little disagreement, uncle said to me mildly.
Its more like a permanent rupture, I retorted. Beldarans going to obey father, and Im not
I wouldnt make any wagers, Pol. Uncle Beldin had raised us, after all, and he understood our little power structure.
This is right and proper, Pol, Beldaran said back over her shoulder. Respect, if not love, compels our obedience.
Respect? I havent got any respect for that beer-soaked mendicant!
You should have, Pol. Suit yourself, though. Im going to obey him. You can do as you like. You will visit me from time to time, wont you?
How could I possibly answer that? Now perhaps you can see the source of Beldarans power over me. She almost never lost her temper, and she always spoke in a sweetly reasonable tone of voice, but that was very deceptive. An ultimatum is an ultimatum, no matter how its delivered.
I stared at her helplessly.
Dont you think you should start packing, dear sister? she asked sweetly.
I stormed out of uncle Beldins tower and went immediately to my Tree to sulk. A few short answers persuaded even my birds to leave me alone.
I spent that entire night in the Tree, hoping the unnatural separation would bring Beldaran to her senses. My sister, however, concealed a will of iron under that sweet, sunny exterior. She moved into fathers tower with him, and after a day or so of almost unbearable loneliness, I sulkily joined them.
This is not to say that I spent very much time in fathers cluttered tower. I slept there and occasionally ate with my father and sister, but it was summer. My Tree was all the home I really needed, and my birds provided me with company.
As I look back, I see a peculiar dichotomy of motives behind that summer sabbatical in the branches of the Tree. Firstly, of course, I was trying to punish Beldaran for her betrayal of me. Actually, though, I stayed in the Tree because I liked it there. I loved the birds, and mother was with me almost continually as I scampered around among the branches, frequently assuming forms other than my own. I found that squirrels are very agile. Of course I could always become a bird and simply fly up to the top-most branches, but theres a certain satisfaction in actually climbing.
It was about midsummer when I discovered the dangers involved in taking the form of a rodent. Rodents of all sorts, from mice on up the scale, are looked upon as a food source by just about every other species in the world with the possible exception of goldfish. One bright summer morning I was leaping from limb to limb among the very top-most branches of the Tree when a passing hawk decided to have me for breakfast.
Dont do that, I told him in a disgusted tone as he came swooping in on me.
He flared off, his eyes startled. Polgara? he said in amazement. Is that really you?
Of course it is, you clot.
Im very sorry, he apologized. I didnt recognize you.
You should pay closer attention. All manner of creatures get caught in baited snares when they think theyre about to get some free food.
Who would try to trap me?
You wouldnt want to find out.
Would you like to fly with me? he offered.
How do you know I can fly?
Cant everybody? he asked, sounding a bit startled. He was evidently a very young hawk.
To be absolutely honest, though, I enjoyed our flight. Each bird flies a little differently, but the effortless art of soaring, lifted by the unseen columns of warm air rising from the earth, gives one a sense of unbelievable freedom.
All right, I like to fly. So what?
Father had decided to leave me to my own devices that summer, probably because the sound of my voice grated on his nerves. Once, however, he did come to my Tree probably at Beldarans insistence to try to persuade me to come home. He, however, was the one who got a strong dose of persuasion. I unleashed my birds on him, and they drove him off.
I saw my father and my sister occasionally during the following weeks. In actuality, I stopped by from time to time to see if I could detect any signs of suffering in my sister. If Beldaran was suffering, though, she managed to hide it quite well. Father sat off in one corner during my visits. He seemed to be working on something quite small, but I really wasnt curious about whatever it might have been.
It was early autumn when I finally discovered what hed been so meticulously crafting. He came down to my Tree one morning, and Beldaran was with him. Ive got something for you, Pol, he told me.
I dont want it, I told him from the safety of my perch.
Arent you being a little ridiculous, Pol? Beldaran suggested.
Its a family trait, I replied.
Then father did something hes very seldom done to me. One moment I was comfortably resting on my perch about twenty feet above the ground. At the next instant I was sprawled in the dirt at his feet. The old rascal had translocated me! Thats better, he said. Now we can talk. He held out his hand, and there was a silver medallion on a silver chain hanging from his fingers. This is for you, he told me.
Somewhat reluctantly I took it. What am I supposed to do with this? I asked him.
Youre supposed to wear it.
Why?
Because the Master says so. If you want to argue with Him, go right ahead. Just put it on, Pol, and stop all this foolishness. Its time for us all to grow up.
I looked rather closely at the amulet and saw that it bore the image of an owl. It occurred to me that this somehow very appropriate gift had come from Aldur instead of father. At that point in my life decorations of any kind seemed wildly inappropriate, but I immediately saw a use for this one. It bore the image of an owl, my favorite alternative form and mothers as well. Part of the difficulty of the shape-change is getting the image right, and father was evidently a very talented sculptor. The owl was so lifelike that it looked almost as if it could fly. This particular ornament would be very useful.
When I put it on, something rather strange came over me. Id have sooner died than have admitted it, but I suddenly felt complete, as if something had always been missing.
And now we are three, Beldaran said vapidly.
Amazing, I said a bit acidly. You do know how to count. My unexpected reaction to fathers gift had put me off-balance, and I felt the need to lash out at somebody anybody.