Have I been gone so long? he said.
Well past the midnight bells, yes. She looked up at him. Why did you run like that?
I dont remember. He felt himself yawn and shook his head. Im exhausted, my love. Ive got to go lie down.
That morning Marka gave up on sleep early. When the sun was rising in a pink blaze of distant fog, and the sea wind was making the tents flap and rustle, she put on a short dress and went outside, yawning and stretching in the cool air. As she glanced around, she saw a stranger, dressed in Bardekian tunic and sandals, leading his horse through the camp. He saw her, waved, and strolled over. His skin was as pale as Ebañys, and his eyes a strange turquoise colour, as vivid as the stones, but since he wore a leather riding hat pulled down over his ears, she could see nothing of his hair.
Good morning, Marka said. Are you looking for someone?
Yes, actually. The magician who performed in the market place last night.
Indeed? Well, I happen to be his wife.
Ah. How do you do? The stranger swept off his hat and bowed to her. Im a friend of his fathers.
Marka stared like a rude child, then pulled her gaze away. His ears were impossibly long, impossibly furled, and pointed.
Well, then, good sir. She found her voice with a little gulp. Youre certainly welcome in our humble camp.
Thank you. My name is Evandar.
My husbands still asleep. Marka glanced back at the tent and saw the flap moving. Or no, here he is.
Salamander stepped outside, saw Evandar, and screamed aloud.
No, no, no! Evandar said. Im here to help you, truly I am. Whats so wrong?
Theres nothing to you, Salamander said, and he was shaking so badly his hands knocked together. Youre not really here.
Well, Im here as much I can be anywhere. Evandar looked down at himself and frowned. Everyone else always thinks I look solid enough. Your charming wife, for instance, didnt shriek at the sight of me.
Indeed? Ebañy turned to her. What do you see, when you look at him?
Just a man like any other, as pale as you are, and so I guess he must be from your homeland. But I dont understand what youre saying. His ears are well, forgive me, sir but theyre awfully strange, but otherwise, he looks ordinary enough.
For a long moment Ebañy stood unspeaking, glancing back and forth between the two of them. Behind him Kivva, their second daughter, flung open the tent flap and stared out, a tall girl, dark like her mother, with tight black curls cut close to her head. Zandro wiggled out between his sisters legs, saw Evandar, and squealed one high-pitched note. He laughed, stuck out his tongue, then threw his head back and pranced around in a tight circle whilst waggling his fingers in Evandars general direction. Everyone stared, speechless, until Marka found her voice.
Zan! What are you doing? Stop that! Marka stepped forward and grabbed. This man is our guest, and taunting him is very rude.
Giggling, Zandro raced back into the tent. When Marka pointed, Kivva obligingly went in after him. Marka turned back to find Evandar considering her with a smile as sly as any merchant closing a deal.
Please, let me apologize for my son, Marka said.
Oh, no apologies needed, Evandar said. He must be an unusual child, yes? Difficult to handle, perhaps?
Well, yes.
Im not surprised. Hes not really human, you see.
Thats what my husband says! Marka turned to Ebañy. I dont understand any of this!
No doubt. Evandar bowed to her. But I see this interests you. Perhaps we can discuss it?
Ebañy merely glared at him, trembling on the edge of rage.
The Guardians, Evandar hissed. Does that name mean anything to you?
All at once Ebañy laughed, relaxed, and began speaking to him in an incomprehensible language. For a moment Marka felt like screaming herself, but the stranger seemed to understand the words; he answered in the same tongue. When she started to ask them what it was, Ebañy silenced her with a wave.
Im sorry, my love, and truly, Im forgetting all my manners. Ebañy laid a soft hand on her arm. We have a guest, a stranger in our camp!
So we do. She saw her chance for escape and took it. Well all have a lovely breakfast. Ill go attend to it.
None for me! Evandar broke in. I dont exactly eat, you see.
There seemed to be nothing to say to this announcement. Marka hurried away, calling to her daughters to come help with the meal.
Inside the tent Salamander offered his guest cushions, and they sat across from each other on a flat-woven carpet of green and blue. Kwinto, dark and graceful with his fathers long fingers and slight build, sat cross-legged on the floor cloth nearby. When Salamander glanced his way he found the boys face a tightly-controlled mask.
Did I ever tell you about the Guardians? Salamander said.
Kwinto shook his head.
Theyre a race of spirits, like the Elementals, but far far more advanced and more powerful than that. This fellow, sitting here? The man you see is just an illusion.
A bit more than that, please, Evandar said. I dont know what I make myself out of, exactly, but it suffices. He picked up a silk scarf, flicked it, then tossed it to Kwinto. Illusions dont have hands that hold and touch.
Kwinto smiled briefly, then ducked his head to study the scarf as if perhaps he could read the secrets of the universe from the pale gold silk. Marka and the girls came in, set down plates of bread and fruit, cups, and a pitcher of water laced with wine. When they started out, Salamander called Marka back but let the girls run off.
Come sit with me, my love, he said. I think this news concerns you, too.
Wheres Zandro? Marka said. I should go see
Terrenz has him. Kwinto spoke up, his boys voice cracking. They went out the back when we came in.
Leave him be, my love, Salamander said. Sit down.
When he shoved a cushion her way she sank onto it. For a long moment an awkward silence held, as Evandar studied her and Kwinto both, but neither would look his way. Salamander poured himself a cup of water.
I should tell you why Im here, Evandar said at last. Your father is worried about you. He wants you to come home.
My life lies here.
And it seems to be a busy one, I must say. Evandar glanced around the tent. And prosperous. Your tents are much richer than your fathers.
Bardeks a richer country than the Westlands.
Just so, but your fathers getting on in years. He desperately wants to see you. He worries about you, too, off in this far country. And now I see that he has grandchildren, and here he doesnt even know it.
At that Marka made a little whimpering sound, quickly stifled. Salamander glanced her way.
If he dies without seeing you, Marka started, then let her voice fade away.
And then theres your brother. Evandar leaned forward, smiling at Kwinto, to press his advantage. Did you know you have an uncle, boy? In far-off Deverry? His name is Rhodry Maelwaedd, and hes a great warrior, one that poets make songs about.
Kwintos eyes widened. Salamander held up a hand to keep him silent.
Kwintos eyes widened. Salamander held up a hand to keep him silent.
My fathers concern, Salamander said, and he could hear the bitterness in his own voice, my fathers concern comes a bit late. When I rode with him at home all he ever felt for me was contempt.
His voice drained all the colour from the tent and the people in it. He saw them all turn grey and as stiff as those little drawings a scribe makes in the margins of a scroll. The wind lifted the tent flap, and Devaberiel walked in to stand with his thumbs hooked in his belt. Salamander got to his feet.
What are you doing here? he snapped. Evandar just said you were back in Deverry.
His father ignored the question and stood looking around the tent with a little twisted smile. He was a handsome man, Devaberiel, in the elvish manner, with moon-beam pale hair, and tall, walking round with a warriors swagger as he looked over the tent and its contents.
You could at least talk to me! Salamander took one step toward him.
Devaberiel yawned in complete indifference.
Curse you!
Oh please! Marka rose to her knees and grabbed the edge of his tunic. Ebañy, stop it! Theres no one there!
She was right. His father had disappeared. No hed never really been there, had he? Salamander turned toward Marka and found her weeping. He could think of nothing to say, nothing at all, but he sat down next to her and reached out a hand. She clasped it in both of hers while the tears ran down her face. In a rustle of wind the Wildfolk crept into the tent and stood round the edge like a circle of mourners. Am I dead then? he thought.
At the thought he felt his consciousness rise and drift free of his body. Although the light turned bluish and dim, he could see his body slump and fall forward, spilling plates and cups alike. He could also see that he now occupied a strange silver flame-like shape, joined to that body by a mist of silver cord. Marka clasped her hands to her mouth to stifle a scream; Kwinto leapt to his feet. Evandar got up more slowly.
Follow the cord, he said. Follow the cord back.
With a rush of dizzy fall Salamander felt himself descend and slam back into the flesh so hard he groaned aloud. He lay on his back amid spilled food and stared at the peak of the tents roof, which seemed to be slowly turning.
This is terrible, Evandar was saying. Whats happened to him?
Hes gone mad, Marka said. Its been coming on for a long time, but now its its taken him over.
Salamander watched the roof spin and tried to think. He could hear Marka and Evandar talking, but their words made no sense. Was he mad, then? Were the marvels hed been seeing signs of madness and naught more?
Its the curse, he whispered. When Jill left us she cursed me. That much I can remember.
Evandar dropped to one knee next to him and caught his hand.
Try to remember. Why would Jill
I dont know. Something about dweomer.
The tent spun to match the roof and dropped him into darkness.
With Kwintos help Marka got Ebañy settled, then left the boy there to watch his father and followed Evandar out of the tent. Sun and air had never seemed so wholesome, nor a breeze so clean. Together they walked to the edge of the caravanserai and stood in the shade of the rustling trees. Far below them on its rocks the ocean boomed and hissed.
Good sir, Marka said. You seem to know a lot about all these strange things. Is Jill really working a curse against my husband?
Hardly. Evandar paused for a short bark of a laugh. Shes dead.
Marka felt hot blood rush into her face. She could think of no apology that would matter.
Im very very sorry to see your husband in this state, Evandar said after a moment. Ill have to do something about this.
Can you help him? Oh, if you only could, Id well, I dont know how wed repay you, but we do have coin.
Hush! No payment needed. I made his father a promise, and I intend to keep it. I cant cure your husband, no. But I might know someone who can.
Marka wept in sheer relief.
But its not going to be such an easy thing, Evandar went on. This person is far away in your husbands homeland. The kingdom of Deverry. Do you know about it?
Well, a little. Its supposed to be a horrible place where everyones a barbarian, and all the men carry swords and get drunk and chop each other to pieces.
A slight exaggeration. Evandar grinned at her. Be that as it may, Deverrys also a wretchedly long way away, across a mighty ocean and all that, and Im not truly sure of how well get there, or if she the person Im thinking of can truly heal him once we do.
Hope sank and left her exhausted. She rubbed her face with both hands and tried to think.
My apologies, Evandar said. I wish I could offer you a certainty. Although, dont lose heart! If the person Im thinking of cant help, there may be others.
If anyone could do something Im just so frightened.
No doubt. Well, Ill be off then to see what I can find.
Evandar bowed to her, then turned and began to walk toward the cliffs edge. He stopped and glanced back.
Take care of my horse, will you? he called out. I wont be needing him.
He walked two paces more, then set one foot on the air as if it were as solid as a step, hauled himself up, and disappeared.