“Such thoughts are foolish, Daughter, and ultimately destructive,” Ithalasa chided her gently. “You did what you must. If you wish to find your companions, perhaps I can set you on the proper track.” He told her that the ships in these waters came and went down a great river that emerged farther down the coast. His cousins, the river dolphins, had reported a city, many days’ journey upriver. If her companions were anywhere, they would be there. “Though you were right to describe them as foolhardy,” he added dryly. “Only an imbecile would light such a beacon in an alien land, to summon who-knows-what! But now, you must decide your own course. If you wish to travel north in search of the Weapons, I can take you a goodly distance, though we do not venture into Northern waters as a rule. But if you seek your companions, your way lies south, and I will bear you to the mouth of the river Khazala—the Lifeblood.” Aurian was in a dilemma. She ought to head north with all speed, for time was against her. As her pregnancy progressed, her powers would gradually wane, vanishing at about six months to leave her bereft of magic until the child was born. Aurian had no wish to linger in the Southern Kingdoms, with their hostility toward Magefolk, nor to have her babe born here. Ithalasa could take her to her own lands in easy stages, with little risk of trouble on the way. But the Mage blamed herself for the plight of Anvar and Sara. She never should have left them. Though it meant a greater risk and a grave setback to her plans, her conscience would never let her rest if she abandoned them now. Eventually, heavy of heart and filled with doubts, she asked her friend to take her to the river’s mouth.
“Take comfort, Little One,” he told her, as they resumed their journey. “Who can fathom the workings of FateP It may be that you have tasks to perform in these lands, and you may even find part of what you seek. Such an act of friendship and honor will surely turn to good.”
Aurian thought of her love for Forral, which had begun in friendship and honor and ended in tragedy, and forbore to reply. But parting with Ithalasa was hard. When she left him, with many tears, at the broad delta that formed the river’s mouth, Aurian felt as though she were leaving part of her soul behind. She thought of Forral and Finbarr, of Vannor, Maya, D’arvan, and even her mother—and of Meiriel and the Archmage, who had betrayed her so bitterly. Was her life always destined to be filled with grievous partings?
“Stop that, idiot!” Aurian chided herself as she sloshed through the sticky red mud of the delta. “Self-pity won’t help!” She wiped her tears on her ragged sleeve, smiling a little as she recalled how Anvar had once scolded her for that habit. In this case, perhaps she was heading fpr a reunion, not a parting. Aurian prayed it would be so.
The Mage had not reckoned on the journey upriver taking so long. The valley was broad and flat-bottomed, hemmed in on either side by towering cliffs of reddish stone. She wondered what lay beyond them, but a mortal dread of heights meant that climbing was to be avoided wherever possible, and besides, she had neither time nor the energy for side trips. The journey was tough enough as it was.
Aurian could see why the river was named Lifeblood. Its broad, sluggish waters were tinted with the same rusty red as the cliffs that towered on either side. The thin strip of land between the cliff and the river was a flat expanse of stinking red mud and stagnant, reed-choked pools, and because of the treacherous, swampy ground, Aurian was forced to travel by day. She felt horribly exposed on the naked mudflats. The sun hammered down on her like a great weight, burning her pale skin, and the air seemed too thick to breathe. She was unable to shed her clothes because of the whining, biting insects that swarmed around her, settling to feed on any exposed flesh. Her hands and face were soon swollen with itchy red blotches, and the effort of will it took not to scratch them was tremendous. Aurian knew that she could use her power to create a shield between herself and the little horrors, but she was reluctant to expend her waning energy in the use of magic, and was wary of using it in a land where it was forbidden.
By the second day, Aurian was already exhausted, and suf-fering badly from the heat. Though she had braided her long, thick hair out of the way, its sweat-soaked weight pulled painfully at her scalp and made her dizzy head ache. By noon, she could stand it no longer. She stopped to rest, but found no ease beneath the broiling sun. There was no shade anywhere, and she was unable to immerse herself in the river to cool down. While hunting the small, eellike fish that were the only food supply to hand, she had encountered great lizards, bigger than herself and armed with long toothy jaws. Apart from that, the river was full of leeches. Of the two, Aurian thought she would almost prefer to deal with the lizards, but was anxious to avoid both, The Mage’s head throbbed. The back of her neck, where the braid hung down, was unbearably hot. It was no good. Her hair would have to go, She was well past the point of heart-searching over such an obvious decision, having lately beeo, involved in much graver choices. Using a stagnant, reed-fringej pool as a mirror, she took out the dagger she had given Anvar and hacked off the braid. Oh, the blessed relief! Aurian felt literally light-headed. The discarded braid lay pathetically Q| the ground like a dead snake, caked with dried mud and sweat, and snarled with bits of weed and other nameless things. Aurian stared at it in dismay, Gods, she thought, what am I coming to? She had always taken such care of her hair, as Forral had taught her when she was a little girl. It seemed as though she had cut away part of her life with him. “I don’t want a stupid Prince. I’m going to marry you.” The memory of those childish words twisted in her guts like a jagged knife.
On an impulse, Aurian picked up the braid and washed it in the little pool. It immediately unraveled from the cut end, and the mass of hair floated in the water like a cloud at sunset. Leaving the other end tied, she fished it out and whirled it around her head to dry it as best she could. Then coiling it tightly round her hand, she stowed it in one of the deep pockets of her leather tunic, where its clammy dampness soon seeped through to her skin.
“Idiot!” Aurian told herself, “Sentimental fool! You cut the bloody thing off so that you wouldn’t have to carry it around!” But all the same, she felt better about the whole business— until the pool settled and she saw her reflection. What a mess! Although she had never been vain about her appearance, Aurian was appalled. Painstakingly, she used her dagger to trim away the bits that straggled round her face, until it didn’t look so bad. And it was certainly more comfortable and practical in this climate, she comforted herself, as she got to her feet and trudged on.
That day she also solved the problem of the insects, quite by accident. Catching sight of a ship in the distance coming downriver, Aurian had no recourse other than to fling herself facedown into the mud and roll, camouflaging herself and lying perfectly still on the ground until the galley was out of sight. It was then that she realized that the stinking mud that coated her skin was a perfect shield, not only against sunburn, but also against the bloodsucking gnats that had plagued her so. Thanking providence, she went on her way much relieved, stopping and again to renew her protection as the mud dried and ked in the strong sun. My own mother wouldn’t know me now, she thought—and wondered what was happening to Eilin, so far away in her Northern home. Would the Archmage take his spite on her? Aurian shuddered, wishing that she had ic way of warning her. But there was nothing she could do except grit her teeth, and go on with the task at hand.