Men stood in the clearing looking upward, pointing at him as he flew above them. Well, he could fix that, and taking careful aim, Mika squeezed a sphincter muscle and was rewarded by the howls of the watchers below as they shielded their heads and ran for shelter.
Mika beat the air with powerful strokes and headed back for the safety of the forest. But shortly before he reached the coppice, he began feeling sick at his stomach and his vision blurred. Realizing what was happening, Mika circled lower and lower, attempting to land before he changed back into human form.
Everything grew vague. A huge tree loomed up in front of him, and putting his feet out, he touched down just as darkness washed over him and he saw no more.
Chapter 10
Mika woke to find himself sprawled naked on top of a large roanwood branch, more than forty feet above the ground. Off in the distance he could hear men shouting as they plunged through the dark forest. He could see the bright light of their torches. It would never do to be found like this. He had to get into his clothes and make an appearance. His absence would definitely be noted.
As he pushed himself up from the branch, he nearly fell, but he clutched the tree with his right arm and hung on for dear life as he stared in horror at his left arm. Or, rather, what used to be his left arm. Now, it was a wing from the shoulder down.
Sour bile rose in his throat, and he rested his forehead against the rough bark and tried not to be sick. All sense of urgency left him as he pondered this new problem. It scarcely mattered now if he got back to his clothes before he was found. There was no way of concealing for long the fact that he had a wing instead of an arm.
Mika's mind raced as he tried to think back over what he might have done wrong, but since the spell was gone from his memory, it was difficult to reconstruct. Obviously, he had fouled up some crucial part of the spell that channeled the return from one body to the other.
He tried to recall what would happen in such an instance, but he could not remember anything except the story of Grizzard, the shaman of a clan of Wolf Nomads that spent much of their time deep in the Burneal Forest.
During a convocation of shamans, which had taken place at their camp, Grizzard had attempted to polymorph himself into something, exactly what, Mika had never determined. But in the middle of the spell, Grizzard's young son, six years of age and old enough to know better, had interrupted his father with some childish tale of woe. Grizzard's wife had appeared and dragged the child away instantly, but the damage was done.
Grizzard changed right before their eyes. Or at least part of him did. His head, to be precise, changed into that of a goose. He was a man from the shoulders down and a goose from the neck up. An angry goose.
The goose-man chased the woman and child around the entire camp, honking its irritation, and when it finally caught up with the unfortunate child, it pecked him black and blue.
Three days later the spell came undone and Grizzard returned to his human form. But ever after, he was called Gizzard, in spite of his objections, and the child was afraid to come near him for several moonturns. Grizzard also developed a fondness for worms.
Mika could not wait three days. He needed to be normal now. He considered staying up in the tree until the change took place, but it was chilly and the mosquitos had found him and were humming their approval. Then too, he would certainly be seen in the morning light even if he escaped detection now.
Mika could think of nothing worse than being gaped at by a crowd of curious nomads and drivers while he huddled naked in a tree trying to hide his wing.
A short bark sounded at the foot of the tree. Tam! Mika felt his spirits rise. Peering down over the edge of the branch he could just make out Tam's figure at the foot of the tree.
"Good boy," whispered Mika. "Tam, go get my clothes and the pouch," he directed. But Tam merely sat there wagging his tail from side to side. Mika hurled small branches at the wolf, but Tam just ignored them and continued barking.
"Stupid wolf," Mika muttered angrily, knowing that he had to get down immediately, before Tam's barking brought the searchers. He pushed himself up carefully and edged over to the trunk of the tree.
Getting down was easier than he had thought it would be. Mika had been climbing roan wood trees since he was a toddler, and his hand and feet found the correct placement without even thinking about it.
"Did I ever tell you that your mother was a dog?" Mika whispered nastily as he ran through the woods, deftly ducking branches and other obstacles. Tam loped alongside, tongue lolling, laughing in his wolf fashion.
Cries were echoing all around Mika, torches flashing like giant fireflies as he dove into the thicket and squirmed into his clothes, dragging his cloak over the offending wing.
He had no more than emerged from the thicket when he was met by a crowd of drivers.
"No one in there," he cried, pointing to the thicket from which he had just emerged. "Spread out and keep your eyes open. Don't let anything slip past you!" and he plunged off to the right before anyone could speak.
He kept up the charade for another hour, questioning men as he encountered them and sending them off in new directions with fresh instructions, receiving, in return, their impression of what they had seen.
It were tumble, Captain," said one of the drivers with a look of distaste as he brushed at his jerkin that was now stained a peculiar whitish-green. "It were as big as a cow an' had long horns stickin' out o' its head. An' it breathed fire, an' acid dripped out o' its mouth. Why, I were almos' killed!"
"A real horror," one of the nomads said somberly as he confided in Mika. "Some kind of feathered dragon, I think. It swooped down low, right in front of my face and tried to claw out my eyes with its claws, but I frightened it away with my sword."
The other stories were equally outrageous. None agreed with any other, and almost all of the men claimed some personal encounter with the mythic beast. Only one man told the truth.
"It was an owl," said the Guildsman after Mika had rounded up the last of the men and sent them back to their bedrolls.
"A most peculiar owl. It had human feet. I think now that you must have been correct," said the Guildsman as he fixed Mika with a speculative gaze. "I agree that we are being plagued by a magic-user, But I do not think that we have much to fear, if this is any indication of his ability. What say you, Master Wolf?"
"I always say that it is a mistake to underestimate one's enemies," Mika said stiffly.
"Perhaps," said the Guildsman. Then, yawning broadly, he turned to go. Dropping his hand he placed it on Mika's cloak, on the place where his shoulder would be, had he one, and squeezed lightly.
Mika's heart sank. He knew there was no way that the man could fail to realize that it was a wing, not an arm hidden beneath the cloak. He held his breath, waiting for whatever would come next.
But the Guildsman merely smiled enigmatically. "Good night," he said pleasantly. "Get to bed. It's been a busy night, but I'm sure that things will look different in the morning."
Puzzled, Mika watched him turn and walk away. Damn! What game was the man playing at? He had been certain that the Guildsman was his enemy and would expose him. Perhaps he would yet, but for now, Mika was more than willing to find his bed and call it a night. Maybe things would be different in the morning. Twitching his wing, he hoped so with all his heart.
Things were different in the morning. They were worse. His arm was still a wing and it was necessary to keep his cloak draped around him to hide it.