Heritage Of The Xandim

16

TRANSFORMATION

To his dismay, Challan realised that Lannala wanted very much to talk about what had happened - and at great length. He heard her slam the door that Iriana had left open, with a muttered, ‘Good riddance.’ Then she marched into his study and proceeded to give him her unvarnished opinion of his foster-daughter, with her daughter providing a harsh and bitter chorus. After a few minutes, Challan decided that he had allowed her to vent enough of her spleen. ‘Lannala, is this going anywhere?’

It upset him to hear his previous family being impugned in such graphic terms. It was not that he hadn’t loved them dearly. It was just that he had fallen so desperately in love with Lannala who, unlike the capable Zybina, had aroused such intense feelings of protectiveness within him that he couldn’t help but choose her. It had been a long time before he had understood just how effective her clinging helplessness had been, as a means of attracting him - and it had been far longer than that before he’d realised, when their life in open-minded, who-gives-a-damn Nexis gave her so much more independence and freedom, that her vulnerability had only been an effect of her lowly status as a slave. She had changed, then; become his partner, equal, strong. It had taken some getting used to, but as the years had passed, he’d come to the decision that he liked this new Lannala better.

Until tonight. Now, seeing her face all twisted with rage, he knew a brief flash of longing for the old days, when she had been the malleable and timid slave girl.

‘It is as far as I’m concerned,’ she snapped. ‘I heard what that little cow said about our daughter.’

Challan sighed. ‘What Iriana said was reprehensible, it’s true, but you obviously missed what Chiannala said about her. There was blame on both sides, and—’

‘How dare you stand there and defend some foundling Wizard-whelp against your own flesh and blood! I’m not going to stand for it. Our Chiannala is every bit as good as some jumped-up little nobody whose parents didn’t even want her.’

She took a deep breath. ‘You really want to know where this is going? I’ll tell you. I want you to stop putting me off. I want you to take Chiannala to Tyrineld, as I keep asking, and get her into the Academy to be trained as a Wizard. You know very well that she inherited your powers. Well, I want her to fulfil her heritage, then snotty bitches like the one who was here tonight won’t be able to look down their noses at her.’

‘Yes, take me, please.’ Chiannala added her support. ‘You know I have ability. Let me prove myself! If I was trained, I’d be every bit as good as her. And I’ll probably be better, and that will knock the smugness out of the cow. Please, Father, please.’

Challan’s heart sank. Not this again. It was unfortunate that Chiannala appeared to have inherited his powers in full. When she was a child he had taught and helped her, for power untutored and uncontrolled was a dangerous thing, but for some time now, he’d been wondering if he’d done the right thing. Now, of course, she was burning to go to Tyrineld for the intense, high-level training that only the Academy could give her, and her own ambition had only been exceeded by that of her mother. Time after time, he had fobbed them off with a variety of vague excuses, because he hadn’t wanted to hurt Chiannala. But if she and her mother kept persisting like this, how much longer could he hide the truth from her? I can’t cope with this tonight - not after the shock of Iriana’s visit, Challan thought. I brought Lannala here to Nexis to secure the freedom that she craved for herself and her daughter - why must they keep demanding more of me?

He sighed. ‘Chiannala, for the thousandth time, you cannot be a student at the Academy. You—’

‘Why not? Don’t you think I’m good enough? Is that it?’

‘I know very well that you’re good enough to be a Wizard. More than good enough, but—’

‘Then why won’t you let her go?’ It was Lannala again. ‘It’s not fair to keep her buried in this rough backwoods place.’

‘It was good enough for you when you came here as a slave from Tyrineld,’ Challan snapped, goaded and hurt by her ingratitude. ‘You said you loved it here. That you’d never been happier.’

‘It’s good enough for me, but I want better for my daughter. There are greater things in store for her. She’s not a human slave like I was. She has your blood, Wizard blood, in her veins.’

‘She has your blood too.’ There, at last he had said the words aloud. It had broken his heart to do so, but Challan knew that he had no alternative this time. Iriana’s visit had brought matters to a head for all of them. ‘Chiannala is a half-breed,’ he went on, hating himself even as the words left his mouth. ‘As such she will never be accepted by the Academy.’

Chiannala’s face turned deathly white, but the glitter in her eyes was pure rage. ‘Then make them accept me,’ she snarled at Challan through gritted teeth. ‘How do they know who my mother is? Tell them I’m truly one of the Magefolk, that my mother was a Wizard, but now she’s dead.’

By the door, Lannala made a small, hurt sound that was halfway between a gasp and a sob, but Chiannala ignored her. ‘Do it, Father. I know you can.’

Steeling himself against the pain, Challan shook his head. ‘I could convince them, perhaps - but I won’t.’

‘What?’

‘I’m sorry, Chiannala, but I’ve sacrificed everything for you and your mother. My home, my work, my friends. I abandoned my original family. Though I loved them dearly, I chose your mother over them when she became pregnant with you. I did it all for your future, so that you could grow up in a place where you wouldn’t have to bear the stigma of a being treated as a slave. I love you both very much, and I would do almost anything to make you happy. But not this.’

‘But—’ Chiannala protested, but she had no chance to finish.

‘Let me speak, Chiannala.’ Challan overrode her words in a harsher voice than he had ever used towards her. ‘All I have left of my former life is my self-respect. No matter what they think of my choice in Tyrineld, at least I acted with integrity, and I won’t compromise that by going back now and lying to everyone. If I do, I’ll lose the little that remains of the man I used to be. And I’ve hurt my other family enough - Zybina, and Yinze and Iriana - without shoving you under their noses by taking you to live in Tyrineld. I’ve already broken their hearts. I won’t humiliate them besides. I’m sorry, but that is my final word. I promise I will teach you all I know right here, and I’ll try to find other Wizards who would be prepared to train you too. But I cannot - I will not take you to Tyrineld.’ Unknowing, he echoed Iriana’s words to Avithan. ‘I don’t want to discuss this again. Not now. Not ever.’

A crushing weight of silence settled on the room. Then, without warning, Lannala blurted: ‘I should have known it. No matter what you said, no matter what we did, we were never good enough for you, were we? Well, if that’s the way you want it, why don’t you just go back to Tyrineld, and your precious family of stinking Wizards. We don’t need you!’

‘Lannala, I think you forget yourself.’ Challan’s eyes flashed with anger, but his voice remained quiet and controlled. ‘You’ve lived here too long under my protection, enjoying privileges and liberties that, under normal circumstances, a mortal would never be granted. If I leave Nexis, they won’t let you stay here as you are. You’ll be sold to a new owner, and Chiannala with you, whether she has Wizard blood or not. Being the age she is, and with her looks, she’ll probably be sold into one of the brothels. Is that what you want for her?’

Lannala turned as white as her daughter, but her pallor was pure fear. ‘You wouldn’t,’ she whispered. ‘You couldn’t—’

‘Don’t you understand? It has nothing to do with what I want. If I leave here, your fate will be beyond my control. No matter how much I choose to elevate you, you’re a mortal. As long as you dwell in the realm of the Wizards you’re a slave and you always will be. And because of her human heritage, so will Chiannala.’

Chiannala stared at Challan in frozen disbelief. This couldn’t really be her father saying these cruel, terrible things, could it? He had always loved her, spoiled her and, she now realised, shielded her from the reality of her situation. It was as though all the foundations of her life were crumbling beneath her. ‘No!’ she shrieked, unable to listen to any more, unable to take any further brutal truths. Clapping her hands over her ears, she turned to run from the room, but her mother tried to stop her in the doorway, catching at her arm as she passed. ‘Leave me alone.’ Chiannala struck out at Lannala with clenched fists, hitting out at her shoulders and face. ‘This is all your fault. You and your accursed human blood, you’ve ruined my life. I hate you! I hate you both!’

‘Chiannala, wait, wait!’ She took no notice of her mother’s anguished cries, but as she ran from the room, she heard her father’s voice. ‘Leave her alone. You’ve done enough damage for one night. See what you’ve brought us to, with your insane ambitions for the girl.’

‘What I’ve brought us to?’ Lannala shrieked. Fleeing the impending quarrel, Chiannala ran upstairs to her room, tears flooding her face. Locking the door, she flung herself down on her bed and struck the pillow with her fist. Downstairs, they were blaming each other as hard as they could, and judging from the raised voices, the argument was likely to continue for some considerable time. She blamed them both: her stupid, self-deluding mother for building up Chiannala’s hopes all these years with her ridiculous expectations, and her cowardly, lying hypocrite of a father for letting her foster those hopes in vain. There was, however, someone she blamed even more than her parents: that arrogant bloody Wizard-bitch Iriana. She was responsible for the dreadful scenes that had taken place that night. For Chiannala’s happy little family being torn apart by words that could never be unsaid. For the shattering of all her hopes and dreams.

‘Curse you, Iriana,’ Chiannala snarled. ‘I’ll hate you for this until the day I die. I swear I’ll never rest until I’ve ruined you, and left your life in ashes and dust the way you’ve left mine tonight.’

To make matters worse, her anger was fuelled by guilt. She knew how much she had hurt her mother by trying to deny her. She hadn’t meant it, not really. She loved Lannala. It was her mother’s mortal blood that she detested, and tonight, the way she was feeling, it was impossible to separate the two. And as for her father’s betrayal, it was much easier to be angry about that because anger kept away the unbearable hurt. After everything that had happened, all the terrible things that had been said, how could she ever face her parents? The way she felt right now, she never wanted to see them again.

Then don’t.

The idea popped into her head as if it had been there all her life, just waiting for this crisis to occur. Angry, hurt and bitter as she was, it made complete sense to her. That was the answer. She would run away. Make a success of her life somewhere else. She would show her father that he had been wrong to dismiss her because of her blood, and make her mother proud of her.

It didn’t take Chiannala long to pack. She was shedding her old life as a serpent sheds its outgrown skin, and she wanted to take no remnants of it with her. Enough clothes to get by, including her best gown - for like all girls her age, she was desperately concerned about her appearance. A comb and one or two other toilet articles. She parcelled her belongings into two blankets laid on top of one another, and tied the neck of the makeshift pack tightly with a long scarf, before putting on her boots and leather gloves, and her warmest cloak.

The cloak gave her an idea. Maybe she could buy herself a little extra time before her parents discovered that she was missing. Hurriedly, she pushed one of her pillows lengthways under her bedclothes, then bundled up the threadbare old winter cloak that she’d discarded last year and placed it above the pillow. There! With the covers pulled up high, it looked just as though she was snuggled under the bedclothes. Her parents would probably be too busy to take much notice tonight, and would only be too glad to have her out of the way.

Chiannala was about to leave, but as an afterthought, she took all of her jewellery: her little ring set with a garnet, which her father had bought her for her birthday, and a slender gold chain. When she got to Tyrineld, she should be able to sell them. She would need more money. She only had a small handful of copper coins to call her own, but it would be impossible to retrieve those meagre savings while her parents were fighting in her father’s study, where his strongbox was kept. Then fate took a hand, or luck, perhaps. Suddenly, she heard the loud slam of the door into the street, followed by her father calling: ‘Lannala, come back.’ Then she heard the hollow sound of his footsteps running along the wooden floor of the passageway, and the slam of the street door again.

This was her chance! Without a backward glance, Chiannala darted from the pleasant little room that had been hers since her childhood. Across the landing was her parents’ bedroom, and there in a drawer was her mother’s scant hoard of jewellery. Chiannala hesitated, guilt churning in her stomach. Then she snatched up the lot and pocketed it without looking to see what she had. One day she would make it up to Lannala. When she had made a success of her life, she would replace these trinkets with far better stuff.

She hurtled headlong downstairs into the study, snatched the little iron strongbox from the cupboard, ran into the kitchen and swiped any food that could easily be carried, dropping everything, strongbox included, into the string-mesh bag that her mother used for carrying the shopping. She dropped flint and tinder into her pocket, stuck the sharpest knife into her belt - and was ready to go.

So far, so good. There were still no signs of anyone returning: her mother must be leading her father a merry dance through the town. Quickly Chiannala slipped out of the back door and found their sturdy brown horse in his little lean-to stable. She needed no lantern to see what she was doing. Along with her father’s magical powers, she had inherited his Wizardly night vision, and she blessed it tonight. Though her heart was racing with panic lest her parents return and stop her, she still took the time to saddle him properly. It would be a long journey and she’d have to ride as fast as this fat and lazy creature would carry her, so there was no point setting off bareback. Tying bundle and net bag together with a bit of old rope that she found in the stable, she fastened them as tightly as she could behind the saddle, one hanging on either side. Then, pulling her hood up to hide her face, she mounted - awkwardly, because of the bulky bags - and rode the horse out of the stable, ducking low to miss the top of the doorway by inches. Out of the backyard and away: away from her childhood; away from her parents; away from her home. And, best of all, away from that accursed taint of humanity for ever.

Chiannala galloped with reckless speed through the moonlit streets, praying that she wouldn’t run into her parents, and dodging as best she could between the town’s many nocturnal wanderers: gamblers, carousers and their predators - the street-hawkers, cutpurses, robbers and whores of both sexes. People leapt out of her way as she thundered past, and she heard a number of curses and cries of protest behind her; but to her relief no one came after her or tried to stop her. Nexians were great believers in minding their own business. She crossed the ford and pounded through the quieter streets on the outskirts of town. Soon she was passing through the new houses that were under construction on the very edge of the settlement, until at last the final half-completed buildings fell behind her, and she was away.

Once she had put Nexis behind her, things became far more difficult. A half-moon provided some light, but Chiannala was forced to slow down nonetheless. She might possess a Wizard’s night vision, but her horse did not, and though the trail was well travelled, it was still rutted and rough in places. The last thing she needed right now was for her mount to fall, perhaps injuring one or both of them.

She had never been out alone at night before, and as her anger began to fade, her courage sank with it. The slopes and curves of the surrounding moorland, dark silhouettes against the moonlit sky, were vast and lonely. After the raucous, drunken din of nocturnal Nexis, it was almost shockingly still and quiet out here. The only sounds were the sigh of the night wind as it roamed the endless spaces of moor and dell; the inner rhythm of her heartbeat, slowing a little now that she had made her escape; the regular, soft thud of her horse’s hooves and the huffing sound of its breath, loud against the whisper of her own quiet breathing. To a girl who had lived all her life in a bustling town like Nexis, the silence was unnerving and filled with threat. There should be no wild beasts on the moor tonight - they only came down from the mountains in the dead of winter - but what if there were robbers waiting to ambush unsuspecting travellers on the road? What if they leapt out, and attacked her?

At this point, Chiannala pulled herself together. ‘Leapt out from where, you idiot?’ she asked herself aloud. ‘There isn’t a tree or a bush within miles, and if they’re hiding in a dell or behind a hill somewhere off the road, at least you’ll see them coming if they decide to attack.’ Firmly, she thrust the phantom robbers from her mind. If it happened, it happened, and there was no sense in worrying about it in the meantime. It was either this or go snivelling back home - which would never happen while she still had breath in her body.

Besides, there were far more real and immediate things for Chiannala to worry about. Pulling up her horse for a moment, she turned and looked back over her shoulder, peering into the darkness and listening as hard as she could for any sounds of pursuit. How long would it take for her parents to discover she had gone? They were so bound up in their own quarrel - would they even notice, until she didn’t turn up for breakfast? Certainly, until they had discovered that the horse was missing, they would never for one moment imagine that she’d leave Nexis.

Yes, she should still have a little more time to get away.

It was just as well, at the speed she was going. After a while, however, the gentle pace began to lull her fears a little. Even though she still kept a vigilant watch all around her, and listened very carefully for any sounds of pursuit coming from behind, she finally found herself beginning to relax. Though she had been forced to run away from home, and though her former life was in ruins thanks to that miserable cow of a Wizard, Chiannala, much to her surprise, found herself almost enjoying this part of her adventure. Though it was summer, the nights were still cold this far north, but the sharp air on her face helped her to stay awake, and she could snuggle gratefully into her warm cloak and gloves. Everything smelled clean and fragrant after Nexis, with its permanent stink of garbage and worse, and the smoke from so many fires. The moonlit sky seemed to be sprinkled with far more stars than she could see when she looked at it from the lamplit town and, despite her earlier - and not quite vanquished - fears of robbers; despite the dreadful, hurtful scenes and revelations she had witnessed at home, she felt a quiet sense of peace settle over her.

She lost all track of time as she followed the moonlit trail across the endless stretches of moorland. After a while, monotony and weariness, together with the soothing rhythm of her horse’s steps, lulled her into a half-doze, and she simply let herself be carried along, heading towards an unknown future, content to keep putting a growing distance between herself and all that she had known.

Chiannala awakened with a jerk, grabbing the pommel of the saddle to keep herself from falling. Somehow, without her knowing, the half-doze had deepened into sleep, and she had almost slipped right off the horse. She threw back her hood and took reviving gulps of pure, cold air. ‘This won’t do,’ she scolded herself. ‘What if robbers had come? What if the horse had shied at a shadow, or stumbled in a rut? You’d have been trying to walk all the way to Tyrineld, and they would have caught you for sure.’

She was just about to set off again when she noticed that the moon was on her left shoulder instead of her right. Chiannala blinked in confusion. ‘What the—?’ Then she realised what had happened. Making the most of her inattention, the tired horse had wheeled around and was heading back home to its stable, and it was the unexpected motion of the turn that had nearly spilled her from the saddle. ‘Stupid creature,’ she sighed. Or maybe not so stupid. Annoyed, she forced the reluctant beast to turn back the way it had been going, but its pace slowed, and it refused to go any faster, no matter how hard she urged it.

It was no good. The horse needed to rest and, if she were being truthful, she wasn’t in much better condition herself after riding for about four hours. She would have to find a safe place to sleep for a while: preferably somewhere that would conceal her from any searchers who might come along the trail. She looked around, wondering how far she had come, and discovered to her surprise that while she had been oblivious to her surroundings, the horse had followed the road down a long hill into a deep, broad river valley. Down in this sheltered haven, away from the harsh conditions of the high moors, the landscape was very different. There were trees here: groves of ash and beech, with willow thickets along the banks of the river. More importantly, however, this was farmland: meadows dotted with cattle alongside carefully tilled fields of root crops, cabbages, beans and a few acres of ripening barley and oats. Wizards, with their powers rooted in Earth Magic, tended to make very good farmers if their inclination lay that way.

A track led off to Chiannala’s right, and vanished behind a little copse. Hopefully, it would lead to the farm itself. Chiannala pulled up the horse and thought for a moment, her brows knotted in a frown, then turned the weary animal and swung off the main trail. The track, just wide enough for a cart, had sturdy, well-maintained fencing on either side, separating the fields from the road. Once past the copse, it curved down to her left, towards the river, and several hundred yards away Chiannala saw a cluster of buildings that was obviously the farm, with a big house for the farmer, byres and barns, henhouses and sheds, and quarters nearby for the human slaves. Now that the horse could smell a stable ahead, he perked up noticeably and picked up his pace, but Chiannala had no intention of going as far as the farm, where there would no doubt be dogs to sound the alarm and involve her in all sorts of complications. In the next field on her right there was an old stone barn that stood well back from the road, and Chiannala unlatched the gate and headed for this sanctuary.

The barn smelled pleasantly of hay and animals. The interior consisted of two separate areas: one a storage place for a clutter of farm implements, and the other divided by partitions into four stalls, two empty, and the other two housing a pretty, dappled, light-grey horse and a big brown mule. Above was a half-loft with a ladder, where hay and bags of fodder were stored.

Perfect. Chiannala put her animal into the vacant stall beside the other horse, and removed its gear and burdens. Scrambling up the ladder with the two heavy bags, she brought hay and corn from the farmer’s plentiful supply down to her mount, who stuck his nose into the manger as though he had never seen food before. Having filled him a bucket of water from the stream, she climbed the ladder again, unwrapped her bundle and made a nest with her blankets in a pile of hay. Then, taking bread, cheese and an apple from the other bag, she fell to eating as hungrily as the animal had done.

As she ate, Chiannala thought about her parents. Would they have missed her yet? Would they be searching? She hoped not. If she could leave as soon as it was light, she could ride much faster, and put even more distance between herself and any searchers. Besides, they wouldn’t be able to follow her immediately. Not only had she taken their horse, but all their money besides, so they wouldn’t be able to afford to buy or hire another. For a moment she wondered how they would manage without their savings, and regretted the anguish and worry she’d be causing them once they found out that she was gone.

Feeling her resolve beginning to weaken, she hardened her heart. Who cared? Let them worry! The father she had loved so dearly had been lying to her all these years, letting her hope that she could attend the Academy like any normal Wizard, and her mother, with her miserable human blood, had ruined her life. If her absence was causing them pain, it served them right. But now that her mad flight from Nexis was over for a little while and she was forced to be still, anxiety began to gnaw at her. Running away was all very well, and for now she’d found a sanctuary, but she couldn’t stay in this barn for ever. What would she do next? Where would she go? How could she show them that she was every bit as good as Iriana?

Then it came to her. The solution was so obvious! Never mind what her father said - she would go to Tyrineld. She would go on her own, as someone else - as a true Wizard, like the rest of them. The Wizard she was in her heart. Excited now, she forgot her weariness and sprang to her feet, pacing up and down while a plan began to take shape in her mind. Her father had been teaching her the spells of chimera and illusion, and although he had forbidden her to use them to alter her appearance until she was much more experienced, she didn’t give a damn about that now. As far as she was concerned, he had lost any right to authority over her. When she got to the city, she would make herself look like someone else entirely. Someone beautiful. Someone that poisonous cow Iriana would never recognise. She would be trained properly, at the Academy, just as she had always wanted. She would work day and night, developing her abilities to their very peak. And when she was powerful enough, she would have her revenge on all of them: all those arrogant Wizards who wanted to enslave her mother and herself.

Chiannala smiled. First she would deceive them, then she’d outdo the lot of them - and first and foremost of them all would be that detestable Iriana.

Despite the whirl of hopes and plans that filled her thoughts, Chiannala found herself overwhelmed by weariness. Soon all her schemes and worries left her, as she leant back against the fragrant hay and relaxed into sleep.

A bed of hay could only feel comfortable to someone who was dead tired. It prickled, it tickled, it rustled with mysterious movements that could only be mice, or even rats... In short, Chiannala awakened after only a couple of hours’ sleep. It was just as well, really, she consoled herself. The subdued, ghostly light that signalled the hour before sun-up was already glimmering through the open doorway below, and it was high time she was on the road again. The last thing she wanted was to run into someone from the farm now, and get caught up in endless explanations and lies.

At top speed, Chiannala began to pack up her belongings - then suddenly paused as she caught sight of the little hand mirror she had slipped in with her other bits and pieces. Picking it up, she looked at her face in the dim light and remembered that she had been planning, before she fell asleep last night, to use a chimera spell to disguise herself when she got to Tyrineld. But surely she could risk a few minutes now in such a good cause. If she looked different on her journey, she’d stand a far better chance of reaching the city undetected. Tucking the mirror into a pocket, she dropped her bag and bundle over the edge of the loft and scrambled down the ladder after them.

Chiannala took the mirror to the doorway where the light was better and looked at her reflection again. How she hated that narrow face, those mud-coloured eyes and that bushy, dull brown hair. Well, if she was going to disguise herself, she might as well do the job properly. Closing her eyes, she put together a detailed picture of the way she had always wanted to look, visualising every aspect of her new appearance in painstaking detail. Then, reaching deep inside herself as her father had taught her, she touched the wellspring of her powers and poured her magic into the vision, projecting the new image onto her own face as it was reflected in the mirror.

She had never done a spell this powerful, despite her earlier, confident words to her father. Nor had she attempted any magic so complex. But it was too late. Chiannala was committed. For an instant she felt a stab of terror, and a torrent of doubts flooded through her mind. What if she couldn’t do this? What if it all went wrong? This was her face she was messing about with! Had she lost her mind? What if she turned herself into some kind of monster? As she watched with horror, a radiant nimbus washed down over her head, blurring her features - then suddenly, her entire face simply vanished, hidden behind a shield of pure light that looked as hard and shiny as the mirror she held. She gave a little scream, almost dropping it. What had she done?

Somehow, Chiannala pulled together the tattered shreds of her courage. She simply had to succeed. Everything depended on it. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated with all her might on the blank, shining oval in the mirror, willing the perfect new features to form. For a moment, nothing happened, then the reflection blurred and clouded as though a grey curtain had been drawn across in front of the mirror. When it cleared, the blank travesty of a face had gone, and a stranger looked out at her from the glass.

Chiannala gasped. For the first time in her life, she was beautiful. Her hair was a glorious mane of raven-black curls. Her eyes were large and green, with long, sweeping lashes, and though she had been careful to give her face the sculpted features that typified the Wizards, the bony angularity was softened slightly into a stunning beauty that outshone Iriana’s stern, patrician looks as the sun outshone the moon. Chiannala laughed aloud. Nothing could stop her now.

As she gazed into the mirror, enraptured by what she saw, and delighted (not to mention a little relieved) that her first essay into such advanced magic had gone so well, she suddenly noticed that her surroundings looked brighter, and her skin had taken on a warmer hue. Damn it. Where had the time gone? The sun was rising already. The eastern sky had turned to apricot and gold, and a sliver of fiery light was beginning to show above the horizon. In the farmyard, a cockerel crowed. She had lingered too long here, and if she didn’t hurry, the people from the farm would find her. Chiannala ran back into the barn, stuffed the mirror into her bundle with feverish hands and ran to fetch her horse.

The animal was far from pleased to have his rest interrupted so soon. He tossed his head and showed the whites of his eyes as she tried to put on the bridle. ‘Stop that, damn you,’ Chiannala muttered as the long brown nose was jerked out of her reach yet again. ‘Come here. Why can’t you be like that nice, well-behaved creature over there?”

She stopped dead, the bridle hanging limply from her hand. Could she? Dared she take the other beast? Why not? It seemed a fair exchange. And as she went on her way with her new disguise, she would be even less recognisable on a different horse. No sooner said than done. Within minutes the saddle, bridle and her baggage were all on the grey, who seemed a good-natured, docile creature. As she led it past the brown horse, she gave a little shrug. ‘If you have to work harder now, you only have yourself to blame,’ she said.

The new horse was of a lighter build than her father’s stocky brown creature, which had mostly been used for pulling a cart. This was a proper riding horse; much more fitted to carrying a lady like herself, Chiannala thought smugly, than that thick-limbed, thick-headed creature which would be much more use on a farm anyway. She only hoped the farmer would see it that way. ‘After all,’ she told herself firmly, ‘it’s not really like stealing. I haven’t left them any worse off.’

Chiannala turned onto the main road and saw the way to Tyrineld lying clear before her. At last! She couldn’t wait to get there, with a new appearance and a new identity, and begin a new life. Leaning forward in the saddle, she urged her new horse into a gallop, and vanished down the road in a cloud of dust.