Voyage of the Fox Rider Read online

  Ontah gestured at the mats about the tiny blaze, saying, “Takla.” Aravan murmured, “Sit.”

  As they seated themselves, Aylis muttered, “I like not this waiting for translation.” She raised a hand and made a gesture, speaking a word under her breath: “Converte.”

  Ontah gazed at Jinnarin, saying in his native tongue, [“You would have me walk a dream?”]

  Not understanding, Jinnarin looked blankly at the old Man.

  As Aravan translated Ontah’s words to Jinnarin and Alamar, Aylis responded directly to the Healer, [“Yes, White Owl, she would.”]

  Both Aravan and Ontah looked at Aylis in surprise, the old Man saying, [“I did not know you spoke the tongue of the People.”]

  [“I know the tongue but temporarily, White Owl. Nigh mid of night, I will know it no more.”]

  [“How can this be?”]

  [“I have spoken a word of , White Owl.”]

  The old Man’s eyes widened, then he tilted his head in understanding, saying, [“If I were younger, I would ask you to teach me this word.”]

  Jinnarin turned to Alamar, whispering, “Aylis is speaking to Ontah.”

  The Mage nodded. “She must have done a seer’s casting.”

  “Why don’t you do a casting, too, Alamar?”

  “Pysk, again you didn’t listen to what I said,” he hissed.

  “I did, too. You said she must have done a seer’s casting.”

  “Well, there’s your answer.”

  A look of confusion spread over Jinnarin’s face. “My answer?” Her bewilderment turned to ire, her voice rising. “Answer? I don’t even know the question.”

  “Then why did you ask?” snapped Alamar.

  “Ask what?” Jinnarin was near to exploding.

  “You asked why didn’t I do a casting, too.”

  “And…?”

  “Pysk, it’s a seer’s casting.”

  “So?”

  Now Alamar gritted his teeth. “I am not a seer.”

  “Oh,” said Jinnarin. “You mean you can’t do it, right?”

  “Of course I could do it if I trained at it.” Alamar fumed.

  Aylis reached out a hand. “Father, we’re not here to argue.”

  Both Alamar and Jinnarin fell silent, each glaring at the other.

  Aylis turned back to Ontah. [“White Owl, will you walk Jinnarin’s dream and tell us what you see?”]

  Ontah looked into Aylis’s eyes. [“Yes, I will walk her dream. Would you care to walk it with me?”]

  [“I know not how.”]

  [“You are young. You know the way of . I will teach you.”]

  [“Then I will gladly walk the dream with you, White Owl.”]

  Aravan, who had remained silent until now, asked, [“White Owl, is there danger in walking a dream?”]

  Ontah sat in contemplation for a long while, and Aravan thought that the old Man would remain silent, yet at last he said, [“There are times when dreamwalking is filled with danger, especially if the dream is laden with evil spirits. Then the dreamwalker’s own spirit can be wounded, even slain, by the bad ones.”]

  Aravan glanced at Aylis and then back to Ontah, and although he spoke to the Healer, Aylis knew that his words were intended for her. [“White Owl, Jinnarin’s dream is filled with fear.”]

  The old Man peered into the fire. [“That does not prove there are evil spirits within her dream, though it does not disprove it either.”]

  Aylis looked into the flames as well. [“Is there any way that we can know if evil is present before we dreamwalk?”]

  Ontah shook his head, No. [“Only by walking the dream can we know what lies within.”]

  Silence fell on the group, and only the crackling of the fire disturbed the quiet. At last Aravan asked, [“White Owl, are there other dangers in dreamwalking?”]

  The old Man looked up, his gaze shifting from Aravan to Aylis and back. [“If the dreamer wakes before the walker steps free, then his spirit will be trapped until the dreamer enters the same dream again.”]

  When this last was translated for Jinnarin, she gasped, “Oh, Aylis, I always startle awake. I cannot help myself. You may be trapped. And I would not want to snare you or Ontah or anyone in that horrid, fear-filled nightmare.”

  Aylis reached out to Jinnarin. “Ah but, my Jinnarin, we won’t be trapped forever, for at least you return to the same dream night after night.”

  “No, no, Aylis, not night after night,” protested Jinnarin. “You know the dream comes much less frequently these days, these nights.”

  Aravan turned to Aylis, his face carefully composed, neutral, his voice controlled, but shadowed in his eyes was grave concern. He spoke softly, softly, his words for her ears alone. “This is thy decision to make, Aylis, and none can stand in thy way. Yet heed, thou must think long and carefully ere taking this step, for the way is fraught with danger. I cherish thee, and if thou wert to suffer harm…”

  Aylis reached out and took Aravan’s hand, but she said nought.

  In the dark of night at the cliffside camp Jatu startled awake. What had roused him, he could not say. By the light of the low-burning fire he peered about the encampment, seeing his sleeping comrades and a Dwarven sentry standing guard. Jatu shook his head, deeming his waking nought but a vagary of the night. Yet as he settled back, he felt a crackling at his breast, and in his jerkin at the laces he found a fold of parchment, a missive from Aravan. Again Jatu looked about, yet no evidence of the messenger did he see. By the light of the fire he read the note:

  Jatu:

  We are well and with Tarquin. He has guided us to a forest dweller named Ontah, a Healer. Ontah is a “dreamwalker,” and he proposes to walk in Lady Jinnarin’s dream accompanied by Lady Aylis. We may be here for some days waiting to accomplish that goal, for Lady Jinnarin must dream her dream and Ontah must walk his walk.

  Until we return, I will send thee a message every three days or so. If in the meanwhile thou and Bokar decide to return to the Eroean, a small signal fire on the cliffs where thou now encamp will let thee know that I have sent another message.

  Aravan

  Even as Tarquin on Ris set out to deliver the note to Jatu, in Ontah’s lodge Aylis and the old Man sat in deep counsel, all others outside. The fire burned low, wavering shadows looming upon log walls. Ontah sat cross-legged at the edge of the fire ring, Aylis opposite, and the old Man gazed intently through the thin rising tendrils of smoke, his brown eyes peering into Aylis’s eyes of green. His voice came softly:

  [“There is a word in my tongue which is similar to your name: aylia. It means, brightwing.”]

  Aylis tilted her head. [“When you said it, I knew.”]

  Ontah grinned, his face wrinkling. [“I will need to call you by a name when we dreamwalk.”]

  Aylis’s own face broke into a smile. [“White Owl, I would be honored if you would call me Brightwing.”]

  [“Good. I was hoping you would see reason.”]

  [“Oh?”]

  Ontah nodded. [“This old head of mine has seen four score and some years, and old habits are hard to break. I was afraid I would forget and call you Brightwing regardless, and I wanted you to know.”]

  Aylis looked at the old Man, a peculiar tightness in her chest. Oh my, he is but eighty and some odd years of age, yet how ancient he looks, as if he were a Mage who had spent all his . Ah, but then again, he is Human…

  Ontah cast another bit of kindling on the fire, his words bringing Aylis back from her musing. [“Brightwing, have you ever had a dream where you knew you were dreaming?”]

  [“Yes, White Owl, though not often.”]

  [“When you knew that you were dreaming, did you try to change the dream, make it into something…wonderful?”]

  [“No, White Owl. I merely knew that I was dreaming at the time. I did not try to control it. I did not know that it could be changed.”]

  [“That is the second step to dreamwalking, Brightwing—to walk into your own dream and know tha
t it is a dream.”]

  [“If that is the second step, then what is the first?”]

  [“Your own dream must begin at the same time as the dream you wish to walk begins.”]

  [“Oh my. How will I even know that the dreamer’s dream has begun? How will I know that Jinnarin is dreaming?”]

  [“Her sleeping eyes will move back and forth.”]

  [“And then I must immediately begin to dream…and shape the dream?”]

  Ontah nodded.

  [“But how…?”]

  [“I will teach you.”]

  [“All right, let us say that I begin my dream and enter it and know that it is a dream—then what?”]

  Ontah smiled. [“Then you must shape the dream, bend it to your will, make it into what you would have it be.”]

  [“Which is…?”]

  [“Which is to dream that you are stepping into another’s dream, stepping into the dream you wish to walk.”]

  [“But how—?”]

  [“I will teach you.”]

  [“And then…?”]

  [“And then, Brightwing, you walk the dream of the other, observing, seeing, and remembering.”]

  Aylis took a deep breath and then nodded.

  Ontah held up a cautionary hand. [“Here is where an evil spirit might be encountered, and you must be ready to banish it or to escape.”]

  [“Banish it? How?”]

  [“Sometimes you can merely tell it to begone, and it will leave. Sometimes you must threaten it. Sometimes you must fight it, and here your own spirit may be killed. Sometimes you must flee.”]

  Aylis felt her heart thudding at Ontah’s words.

  [“Do not let me frighten you, Brightwing, for evil spirits are not often encountered.”]

  Aylis grinned with a bravado she did not feel, saying, [“My heart tells me otherwise, White Owl, but I will try to remain calm.”]

  Ontah reached across the fire ring and squeezed her hand. [“That is good, for you must remain calm in order to leave.”]

  [“Leave? Leave the dream?”]

  Ontah nodded. [“Yes. When you have seen enough you must leave. At times you must leave before you are ready.”]

  Aylis turned up a palm. [“And the reason?”]

  [“You must stop walking in the dream before the dreamer wakes, else you will be trapped.”]

  [“How will I know when to leave, White Owl?”]

  [“I will teach you.”]

  [“There is much for me to learn.”]

  Ontah canted his head in agreement. [“Do you remember the steps?”]

  [“When the one whose dream I wish to walk begins dreaming, I must enter my own dream and know that I am dreaming. I must shape the dream and dream that I am entering the dream I wish to walk. I must observe well and remember. I must be wary of evil spirits, which, if encountered I must banish or flee from. Regardless, I must leave the dream I am walking before the dreamer wakens.”]

  Ontah smiled. [“Then you must waken, leaving your own dream behind before you forget what you have seen in the dream you walked.”]

  [“Oh? Am I likely to forget?”]

  [“Most dreams are forgotten, Brightwing, even those we would wish to remember. Let me ask you, have you ever wakened from a dream in the night and said to yourself that you must remember this dream in the morning, but when morning comes all you recall is that you wanted to remember a dream, but it is gone from your mind?”]

  Aylis smiled a rueful smile. [“Yes, White Owl, I have forgotten dreams I wanted to remember…exactly as you say.”]

  [“Then, Brightwing, it is necessary that you waken quickly after a dreamwalk so that you can recall most of what you have seen.”]

  Aylis sighed. [“There is much for you to teach me, White Owl. I hope I am up to it.”]

  Ontah made a negating gesture with his hand. [“Of that, I have no fear, Brightwing, for you know the ways of .”]

  [“Then let us begin.”]

  Ontah cast another stick of kindling on the fire. [“Tell me this: do you know how to sleep without sleeping?”]

  Sleep without sleeping? Momentarily Aylis was nonplused, but then she asked, [“Do you mean—?”] suddenly Aylis realized that there was no word in Ontah’s tongue which meant meditation…in particular, deep meditation…

  …And so began Aylis’s instruction in dreamwalking.

  In the early afternoon of the next day, a Dwarven warder called out, “Someone comes!”

  Bokar and Jatu stood and peered toward the pine tree forest. In the near distance toward them came Alamar, tottering and disheveled and panting. “Something is wrong,” gritted Bokar, hefting his double-bitted axe and setting out at a trot toward the eld Mage, Jatu jogging at his side. Even before they reached Alamar he waved them back, wheezing out in an irritated voice, “No need to come and get me. I can make it on my own. I’ll not have anyone carrying me, even though it has been an ordeal.”

  By this time, Bokar and Jatu had reached his side. “Is there danger?” demanded Bokar, axe at the ready, his gaze sweeping the wood for sign of threat.

  “Danger?” gasped Alamar, whirling about, facing the forest. “Where?”

  “I don’t know where,” snarled Bokar, “you are the one running.”

  “Running? Me?”

  “You mean you are not fleeing?”

  “Of course not, you bloody fool.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “Well there was nothing for me to do!” Alamar peevishly snapped, yet puffing and blowing. “Aylis and Aravan have everything well in hand. The Pysks are all right. Ontah knows what he is doing. The savages are no threat. And besides, it was bloody uncomfortable out there in the woods.”

  Bokar seemed unwilling to concede that nothing was amiss. “Are you certain?”

  Alamar threw up his hands and stomped off toward the encampment, muttering, “It’s not enough that I have to walk miles and miles out to that lodge and back, and it was uphill both ways, but now my very judgement is being questioned, and…”

  Bokar and Jatu turned and followed the Mage, the Dwarf scowling, the black Man laughing.

  That night, Ontah and Aylis sat at the lodge fire, aromatic wood shavings filling the air with fragrance. They faced Jinnarin, who lay nearby on a soft blanket, the Pysk trying to sleep, failing. Neither Aylis nor Ontah spoke, the silence broken only by the slight crackling of the fire. At the doorway, Aravan sat with his back against the outer wall, the Elf resting his mind in gentle memories. Neither Tarquin nor Falain were present, having escorted Alamar back to the cliffs where he would return to the Eroean.

  An hour passed and then another, and the wind in the pines strengthened, the soughing shssh drowning out all other sounds. Aylis regarded Jinnarin, watching as her breathing slowed and her hands fell lax—she was asleep at last.

  Aylis slipped into a state of light meditation, noting that Ontah did likewise.

  A time passed. And there came a soft word from Ontah. Beneath their lids, Jinnarin’s eyes began to whip from side to side.

  Now Aylis slipped into deep meditation, and using the now-ingrained of taught her by White Owl, Aylis began to dream. She stood in her father’s cottage in Vadaria, looking about in wonderment, for here she had not been since childhood. And as she stared at her dwelling of yore, a young Man with black hair and brown eyes and coppery skin stepped through the wall toward her. “Brightwing,” he said, reaching out his hand, tugging her into the cave.

  They walked toward the light at the distant end. When they emerged, they were alongside a still mere.

  “See and remember,” whispered White Owl.

  Aylis peered about. They were in a forest. Oak trees. Willows. It was summer. Reeds stood in the lakelet near the shore. The water was faintly undulant. She could hear a stream purling softly. Across the way a fox and rider stopped.

  “Remember,” whispered White Owl again.

  The fox bounded away. The rider—Jinnarin? yes, Jinnarin—knelt and plucked
a flower. She stepped to the edge of the mere and knelt on a broad stone, fixing the flower in her hair and using the water as a mirror. From above came laughter, and out from a tree a Pysk dived into the pool. Jinnarin screamed.

  “Remember.”

  That must be Farrix. Aylis watched as the black-haired Pysk popped up from underwater and climbed out. He wore no clothes. Suddenly, Jinnarin’s clothing disappeared. Farrix kissed her. They lay down in the moss.

  Aylis turned to the Man, her heart thudding. “White Owl, we must not—”

  “Brightwing, see the trees.”

  Aylis looked. They were beginning to lose form.

  “Brightwing, we must leave now.”

  They stepped into the tunnel, White Owl striding swiftly. Aylis looked behind. The opening disappeared, the tunnel walls began to collapse, rushing toward her from the far end.

  “Do not look back!” White Owl commanded, his voice sharp.

  Aylis’s head snapped ‘round, but she knew that at the speed of the approaching cave-in, only moments remained until they would be buried.

  “Do not believe it!” commanded White Owl. “Control the dream and it will not fall.”

  Her heart hammering, Aylis envisioned the walls solid, adamant, unable to give way. The crashing behind her stopped.

  They stepped forth from the tunnel and into a smoke-filled lodge. A tiny fire burned in a ring of stones. An old Man and a young seeress knelt in meditation, a Pysk asleep before them.

  “Remember,” said White Owl. “And awaken.”

  Aylis said the other deep-rooted of White Owl had drummed into her…

  …and she opened her eyes.

  Aylis was ecstatic. She had dreamwalked. She turned to Ontah, and he smiled at her, saying, “N’klat sh’manu, Aylia.”

  “What?”

  “N’klat sh’manu. Chu doto a bala.”