Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (7 page)

No wonder Incondor’s mood was black.

Still, he had one last hope of placating the Queen. On his hunt he had been incredibly lucky, and had found a white cub. These aberrations, known as ghost cats by the Skyfolk, were incredibly
rare among the great cats, which tended to be marked in various combinations of black and gold. Their pelts were said to bring good fortune to the owner, and when Incondor gave this one to the
Queen, that luck should spill out over the entire Skyfolk race. Surely that would be enough to save him from her wrath?

He had left the cub alive. This treasure would be skinned by experts back in the city, who could make sure that the precious hide was undamaged. Unfortunately, the creature was young –
only about the size of the white foxes that hunted on the lower slopes – but it was a precious ghost cat, nonetheless. He had insisted on carrying it himself, and it swung beneath him in a
net, mewling with fear. Its lack of size would not diminish its value.

The High Crown Pass hove into sight, and Incondor knew he would soon be home. Milvus flew up beside him. ‘Do you want to stop here and rest for a little while, or shall we press
on?’

‘Press on. I plan to get back as soon as possible, before this stupid animal dies on me. I want the pelt to be as fresh as possible.’

Then Incondor saw a group of figures below, resting in the pass. The Winged Folk had excellent vision. Even though it was summer there was still snow at this altitude, and Yinze’s purple
cap stood out clearly against the white background.

The winged man looked at his companions with a feral grin, and gestured them downward. ‘I’ve just changed my mind,’ he said.

The Wizard and his companions were making a brief stop in the pass, to rendezvous with their porters and make sure all their baggage was organised, before they set off on the
long journey north. Yinze had dusted the snow off a boulder and was sitting down, with his harp case open on his lap. In the final scramble to leave Aerillia he had packed the precious instrument
rather hastily, and he wanted to make sure it was safe and secure before continuing on his way.

Kea, dressed in snug travelling clothes of a tunic and leggings, came over to him. ‘Are you finished yet? We’re all ready to—’ Her words were cut off by the thundering of
wings. Snow whirled up, blinding them, and as it cleared Yinze found himself confronting Incondor and his henchmen.

The Wizard’s heart sank. He’d thought he’d seen the last of his foe. Ardea had made no secret of the fact that Pandion had sent him home while Incondor was away hunting, in the
hope of keeping the two of them apart. Had it not been for the storm which had delayed him, the plan would have worked perfectly. His bearers, under orders from the Queen to protect the Wizard at
all costs, closed ranks around him, outnumbering the interlopers.

Incondor’s eyes glinted nastily. ‘Well, well. If it isn’t the Wizard and his little friend. I’m so glad I didn’t miss the chance to say farewell.’

Kea’s attention was on the mewling bundle. ‘What are you doing with that cub?’

‘It’s a gift for the Queen.’ Again, that feral grin. ‘I killed its mother and siblings yesterday, but this is the only white kit that has been seen on Steelclaw for many
years. Won’t it look lovely when it’s skinned? That pelt is going to make me very popular with Pandion for some time to come, I suspect.’

Yinze looked at the wretched little creature, pity stirring in his heart. He thought of Iriana, so far away, and knew that she would want him to save it. Yinze, with a half-formed plan of
promising Incondor liquor in trade for the cub, stepped closer – and smelled the brandy on the winged man’s breath. ‘If I were you, I’d take some time to sober up before
meeting her,’ he said with a grin. ‘If she smells that liquor on you, all the scrawny cubs in the world won’t save your hide.’

‘She won’t catch me,’ Incondor sneered. ‘I’m far too clever.’

‘You’re clever enough to let a number of witnesses see you in this state, including some of the Queen’s own bearers, sent along by her to make sure we met no
trouble.’

Incondor turned white as he realised that he had trapped himself. For a moment his brash pose crumpled, and his arrogant expression was replaced by a sick, furtive look. Then the panic
disappeared, as anger won out. Dropping the cub he lunged, and smashed his fist into the Wizard’s face, catching him beneath the left eye. Yinze reeled back, cursing, and impacted hard
against the cliff face. Fuelled by blazing rage, he used the rock as a springboard to launch himself at his foe, and crashed into the winged man, knocking him off his feet.

The pair rolled on the ground, kicking, pummelling and gouging at one another. Yinze’s entire focus was on the battle. He was bigger and heavier, but his opponent was lightning-fast, and
was possessed of a wiry strength that the Wizard had not suspected. Also, the Winged Folk had sharp, curved, talon-like fingernails, which Incondor used as a weapon in addition to his fists,
tearing at Yinze’s face and coming perilously close to his eyes. Nevertheless, as the pair scrambled back to their feet, the Wizard was more than holding his own. This fight had been a long
time coming, and he had months of taunts, pranks, and downright bullying to avenge. With a black savagery completely at odds with his usual, sunny nature, he began to press home his advantage,
driving Incondor back.

The winged man’s eyes were swollen, his face was scraped and bruised. Blood flooded from his nose as he choked and gasped for breath. Yinze pulled back his fist for one last blow to finish
it, but suddenly hands were grasping him from behind, pulling him back from his foe. With a jolt of anger at such betrayal, he realised that his own bearers had intervened – and then another
shock, of horror this time – turned his wrath to black terror as he saw that Incondor’s companions had hold of Kea, and Torgos was pressing a blade against her throat.

‘This has gone far enough, Wizard,’ Milvus said. ‘Take your bearers and your Skyfolk trull and leave these lands. Never come back, for if you do – we’ll be
waiting.’

‘Gladly.’ Yinze spat blood onto the ground. Part of him, seeing Kea’s face bone-white with fear, revolted against retreating from these cowardly louts, but despite his temper
he had intelligence enough to realise that this was the most sensible option. Having managed to avoid any dishonour or disgrace all these months, he must not fail at the final hurdle. ‘Let
her go. We’re leaving.’

Torgos pushed Kea away from him, hard. Yinze caught her as she stumbled, and saw that her eyes were blazing with anger. He bit down on his own fury, though it nearly strangled him, and put an
arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on, let’s go. The sooner we’re far away from these scum, the better.’

Incondor, however, had other ideas. While the Wizard was distracted he scrambled to his feet and his eye fell on the harp, resting atop the rock in its open case. Before anyone could react he
darted past Yinze, snatched up the instrument, and rocketed into the sky.

‘Come near me and I’ll drop it,’ he screamed, spittle flying, as Kea and the porters prepared to take wing. Helpless, they all watched in dismay as he flew higher. ‘If
you’re going to ruin me, I’ll pay you back. See how you manage the powers of Air without your little toy.’

‘For pity’s sake be careful,’ Yinze shouted. ‘That’s no toy, you fool, and you don’t understand it. It’s loaded with strange magic.’

‘Magic, my backside,’ Incondor jeered. ‘A child could master this trinket.’ To Yinze’s horror, he slung the strap over his shoulder and began to play.

It happened with terrifying speed. The gusting wind screamed into a tempest, and the clouds came swirling down into a vortex of spinning air that centred on the harp. Snow and stones flew up
into Yinze’s face and the gale flattened him back against the cliff. He snatched at Kea’s hand as she was whirled helplessly past him, her wings catching the wind like sails, and pulled
her against him, trying to shelter her with his body.

Then a shriek, loud enough to be heard over the screaming of the storm, drew his eyes upwards. Through streaming eyes he saw the titanic forces snatch at Incondor, hurling him like a stone from
a slingshot, tumbling him over and over in the air like an autumn leaf. Once more he shrieked hideously, and Yinze saw his wings crumple like paper as the dreadful forces snapped the delicate bones
like kindling. Then the gale hammered down like a fist, smashing the winged man into the harsh rocks of the pass.

He was dead. He had to be. Yinze rushed forward, sick with horror, but Kea was faster, and knelt over the broken, bloodied form. ‘Don’t move him,’ she said. ‘He’s
still breathing, but he’s smashed up so badly . . . We need a healer here.’ Wildly she looked around for their bearers, but they had all suffered the same fate as she would have done
had Yinze not protected her, with the wind catching their wings and bowling them over. They had been scattered further down the pass, and even now were picking themselves up and limping back, their
flesh covered in cuts and abrasions, and already darkening with bruises. Two of them, it was clear, had dragging, damaged wings; another was bleeding from a jagged tear in his scalp, and yet
another needed help from his comrades to walk.

Kea beckoned to them. ‘Are any of you fit to fly?’ Parea and Incondor’s friend Milvus were the first to step forward. ‘Then return to Aerillia as fast as you can, and
fetch help,’ the winged girl told them. ‘We’ll try to keep Incondor alive until you get back.’

Sick with dismay, Yinze dropped to the ground beside Kea. While they had been working on the harp they had become adept at melding their two very different sorts of power, and now, as she laid
her hand gently on the winged man’s breast, he put his own hand over hers, lending her his energy and magic to help hold his enemy to life. Nearby, the harp lay on the ground, as mangled and
shattered as Incondor’s wings, and the Wizard felt a stab of anger at the waste, the destruction. Surely this disaster must spell the end for all his hopes and plans?

Queen Pandion looked down at Incondor, her expression very grave. The healers had cleaned him up as best they could, and straightened his broken limbs, holding them in place
with casts of stiffened rawhide, but even Yinze, who knew little about healing, was sure that even if the winged man survived, he would be hopelessly crippled and would never fly again. He felt
sick and sorry and, even though he had not initiated the confrontation, his stomach was knotted with guilt.

‘Come,’ the Queen said, and motioned the Wizard and Kea from the room. The corridors of the palace were hushed and empty around the sickroom, apart from the swift, padding tread of
the healers going back and forth. Pandion led the way into another chamber, where food and liafa were set out on a table. Outside, the sun had set, and the room was growing dark. ‘Sit,’
she said wearily. ‘Rest. Neither of you have eaten anything all day.’

Gratefully, Yinze sank down onto a stool, and took a sip of liafa sweetened with honey, wincing at the sting from his bruised mouth where Incondor had hit him. The hot liquid was both comforting
and reviving, but his stomach still revolted at the thought of food.

‘Have the healers looked at you, Yinze?’ Pandion asked.

‘It’s not important,’ he mumbled.

‘It is important. Get those scrapes and bruises treated, Wizard. Cyran would never forgive me if I sent you home in that state. I already feel guilty that one of my own subjects should
have caused such damage.’

‘Your Majesty, I’m sorry,’ Yinze blurted. ‘I’m just so dreadfully sorry. All these months of keeping the peace with Incondor, then I failed the final
test.’

‘That you are sorry says a great deal for your character, but as far as I am concerned, you have absolutely no reason to feel guilty,’ Pandion said firmly. ‘I have spoken to
your bearers, and Kea, and Incondor’s companions. It seems clear to me that the blame lies with him. He initiated the confrontation. He struck the first blow, his friends threatened
Kea’s life, and he stole and destroyed your harp, almost destroying himself in the process.’

Her eyes went once again to Yinze’s battered face. ‘I will speak with Archwizard Cyran, and make it clear that no blame is attached to you for this regrettable incident.
Nevertheless, I feel that you should return home as soon as possible. Our physicians have suggested that I send Incondor with you, to see what the healers of Tyrineld can salvage, for his injuries
are beyond our skills.’

‘So they think he’ll live?’ Relief washed over the Wizard.

‘Our healers believe they can hold him to life – but he will be terribly crippled. But the Wizards, with their Earth magic, are far more adept at healing than we. Perhaps the damage
can at least be minimised.’

The terrible fear that Incondor would die, that had haunted him over the last few hours, finally subsided, leaving Yinze weak and shaking. When the Queen spoke again, he saw sympathy in her
eyes. ‘Be comforted, my children,’ she said, looking from Kea’s tear-stained face to Yinze’s pale and battered one. ‘As I said, this tragedy was not your fault. It was
my duty to keep you safe while you were here, Yinze, and because I failed you have been injured, and all of your hard work of these last months has been destroyed by one of my subjects. Crombec is
repairing the structure of your broken harp – all that remains for you is to imbue it with your magic once more. But is there any way in which I can make recompense?’

The Wizard was stunned. Despite his involvement in the tragedy, the Queen was apologising to him. Enough guilt still lingered to make that seem very wrong. ‘Your Majesty, I don’t
deserve . . .’

‘I mean it,’ Pandion insisted. ‘The honour of the Skyfolk, of Aerillia, is at stake here. I ask again, is there any way in which I can compensate you?’

Suddenly, Yinze thought of the little white creature that had mewled in panic in Incondor’s hands. ‘Does the cub still survive?’ he asked. ‘The white cub that Incondor
found? If it lives, may I be permitted to keep it? To take it home as a gift for my sister Iriana? Though she is blind, her skill with animals is unsurpassed, and if anyone can raise it, she can. I
know she would love one of the great cats of the mountains.’