The world's fabric rippled as he emerged into the icy wind of the Shamarese winter, his feet sinking into soft snow. He was not far from the Lowman girl's camp, as he had wished. He savoured the familiar balance and order of Shamarese, then glanced at the sky. The moon sank towards distant mountains, but dawn was still a few hours away. He was tempted to return to the Lake and take advantage of this rare opportunity to explore one. Tomorrow he would travel on, leaving the Lake of Renewal behind, perhaps forever.
As he stood irresolute, Earthpower sounded a warning in his mind, like the clang of a great bell. Chanter turned his head to listen, tuning his mind to the stream of wind and earth speech. Leaping into the air, he summoned Ashmar and transformed into a snowy owl. Spreading his newly-acquired wings, he rose with a great down stroke and climbed into the sky on silent, silken feathers.
Without Dolana the alarm no longer reached him, but the way was clear. The air yielded to his wings with subtle resistance, buoying him up and speeding him on his way as he twisted between looming black tree trunks and snow-laden boughs. Swooping and veering, he powered higher with swift wing beats, his eyes narrowed against the rush of freezing air. He sailed through the icy forest to the dark tent.
Chanter glided down and landed in a spray of powder snow, summoning Ashmar with a lash of mind power. As the whisper of wings faded, he straightened and looked around. A dire bear stood not ten paces from the tent, idly sharpening his claws on a tree. The massive animal spotted Chanter and grunted, studying him with myopic brown eyes. The Mujar smiled and walked over to his shaggy brother to scratch the rough fur between the beast's eyes. The dire bear moaned with pleasure and lifted a mighty clawed paw to swat Chanter, who danced aside.
The bear dropped to all fours and pursued him with friendly grunts. Chanter laughed and skipped away. The playful chase ended when he stumbled into a deep snowdrift and the bear pinned him down with massive forepaws to lick the Mujar's face. Chanter endured the warm wet caress for a time, then pushed the animal away. The dire bear retreated, shaking his head and moaning. He did not want to leave, but Chanter used a brief mind-lock to send him back to his foraging.
A glance at the sky told Chanter that the moon was setting and dawn not far off. Stripping off his tunic and leggings, he rolled in the snow, scrubbing himself with handfuls that turned to water on his skin. By the time he finished and donned his clothes again, the dawn's first pink tinge brightened the sky.
Talsy woke blissfully warm, and snuggled closer to the source. Smiling, she opened her eyes to find Chanter stretched out next to her, keeping most of himself off the ground by resting on one elbow. He shot her a smile, then rose and struggled out of the tent, almost pulling it down on top of her. Untangling himself from the strings, he settled on a rock.
Talsy glared at him, wishing he would stay and keep her warm. Yawning, she wrapped her coat more firmly around herself and crawled out to stretch in the pale morning sun. Firewood filled the fire pit, and, as she scooped snow into a pot, Chanter leant forward to place his hand on the wood. Talsy braced herself for the momentary sensation of being in the heart of an inferno.
The Mujar smiled as she placed the pot on the flames. While the snow melted, she pulled down the tent and packed it, then made tea and cut slices of bread. Chanter's night in the wild seemed to have done him good. His hair glittered, his skin glowed and his eyes sparkled. He seemed to be deep in private thoughts, and they ate breakfast in silence. Talsy packed away the pot and cups, dreading another day of slogging through the snow.
"Can you ride?"
Chanter's question startled her, and she swung to face him. "Yes, why?" She had ridden her father's shaggy pony many times.
He smiled and nodded. "Good. Take a deep breath and hold it."
Talsy obeyed without question, and Chanter bent to touch his hands to the ground. The icy silence of Earthpower clamped down, solidifying the air with terrifying suddenness. As the moment of frozen stillness passed, she let out her breath in a sigh. Chanter had vanished, and before her stood the most magnificent black stallion she had ever seen. He turned a finely chiselled head towards her and gazed at her with silver-blue eyes.
Talsy grinned and went to stroke his glossy coat. Chanter pawed the ground with a flinty hoof, and she got the message. She slung the heavy bag over his back and regarded his tall withers with a sceptical eye. He lifted a foreleg, making a step with which she struggled onto his back, using his long glossy mane to pull herself up. As soon as she was settled aboard, he set off across the snowy landscape.
Talsy patted and stroked him, then was forced to clutch his thick mane when he broke into a canter. Although the icy wind nipped at her nose and cheeks, his warm back kept her cosy. Soon he found a narrow trail, and his hooves rang on the frozen ground in a steady rhythm. The trail wound amongst craggy rocks and plunged down steep icy banks, which Chanter slid down on his haunches while Talsy clung to his mane with her heart in her throat. He ploughed tirelessly through deep drifts and climbed hills of sliding snow. Several times, Talsy almost slipped off, and he sidestepped to prevent her from falling.
On the lower slopes, they found a wider track and clattered along it, passing a log cabin with smoke curling from its chimney. As they cantered away, a faint cry made Talsy look back. A woman ran after them, waving and calling.
"Chanter, stop," Talsy ordered.
The stallion's ears flicked back. The woman wailed and fell to her knees.
"Chanter, please stop!"
The Mujar slowed and stopped, steam rolling up his flanks. Talsy ran back to the kneeling woman. "What is it?"
The woman clutched her, raising a tear-stained face. "My husband hasn't returned from the hunt. He left five days ago! Please help me!"
"What can I do?"
The woman glanced at Chanter. "You could take us to the village. We have no food, and the children are hungry!"
Talsy looked at the house, where three scared faces peered from the doorway, then glanced down the trail at Chanter, knowing the Mujar would not want to help.
"Don't you have a pony?" she asked.
The sobbing woman shook her head.
Talsy sighed and glanced at Chanter again. "Wait here." As she headed towards the stallion, he walked away. "Wait, Chanter."
The Mujar ignored her, and she ran after him and grabbed his tail. Still he continued to walk, dragging her along. She dug in her heels, but he towed her until she tripped over a rock. She slid on her chest, hanging onto his long tail.
"Chanter, please stop!"
The Mujar snorted, and she released his tail to lie despairing in his wake before she jumped up and ran after him again.
"Please, let's help her. She'll die alone in that hut!"
The stallion laid back his ears and kept walking. Talsy ran alongside and grabbed his mane, trying to stop him with brute force. He shook her off, and she floundered into a snowdrift. Spitting snow, she clambered out and ran after him.
"Please change. I want to talk to you." She groaned when he ignored her. "Damn it, Chanter, don't prove my father right!"
The Mujar stopped and turned to gaze at her with sad eyes, then raised a foreleg. She climbed onto his back, and he set off down the trail again. Talsy cursed, thumping him. He gave a little buck, bouncing her, and she clung to his mane. She looked back, thinking of the woman they had left to die with her starving children.
"She had children, you know. Helpless babies. You won't kill, but you won't help either, will you?"
The stallion laid back his ears and bucked again, forcing her into reluctant silence.
They had travelled about three miles down the trail when they found the dead hunter and his frozen kill. Chanter would have walked around them and continued on, but she slid from his back, twisting her ankle. She glared at him when he stopped a little further on and turned to look at her. Hobbling to the corpses, she found that the hunter had been gored terribly, and died struggling to drag his kill home to his family. Saddened by his noble, futile efforts, she looked at the Mujar.
"If we take this back to the house. The woman will have enough food to last the winter if she uses it sparingly."
Chanter pawed the ground, arching his massive neck.
Talsy hobbled to him and fell to her knees. "Chanter, please! Surely our clan bond means you'll help me if I ask? Will you help me to take this bog boar back to the house? Is that too much to ask?"
Chanter sighed twin clouds of steam, his head sagging, then walked past her and stood beside the bog boar carcass with a hangdog air. She hobbled after him and pried the rope from the dead hunter's frozen hands, tying it around the stallion's neck. The Mujar walked back along the trail, towing the frozen boar while Talsy hobbled in his wake.
By the time they reached the house, she gasped and her ankle throbbed. At the sound of their approach the door flew open and the woman ran out with a glad cry.
"I thought you'd left us to die!"
Talsy smiled. "Sorry, I had trouble catching my horse. I found your husband down the trail, with this." She indicated the carcass. "It should feed you for the winter."
"Thank you, child, and bless you!" The woman untied the rope from Chanter's neck, and the three children emerged to stare at the black stallion.
"You're very kind," the woman chattered, "I knew he was dead after two days had passed. He was a good provider, even to the end." She smiled at Talsy as she pulled the rope free. "You have a lovely horse, child, though he seems to be asleep."
Chanter's eyes were closed and his head drooped. The woman patted his neck, and Talsy cringed inwardly.
"Beautiful animal," the woman went on. "Mind no one steals him. Why doesn't he open his eyes?"
The woman was far too curious, and Talsy said, "I must be going; got a long journey ahead."
The woman nodded, scrutinising Chanter. A child stumbled into his hind legs, and he opened his eyes. The woman shrieked and jumped back.
"Mujar!"
The children screamed and ran for the house as the woman bent to pick up a rock. "Damned Mujar scum!" She hurled it at Chanter's head, but the stallion bolted into the woods.
Talsy grabbed her as she scooped up another stone. "Stop it! He helped you!"
The woman turned to her. "What are you doing with a Mujar? You stupid girl! Do you want to be damned forever?" She grabbed Talsy's arm. "Stay here with us, for your own good!"
Talsy wrenched free. "Leave me alone!"
Evading the woman's grasping hands, she hurried after Chanter as fast as her injured ankle would allow.
The woman's screams followed her. "You'll be sorry! He'll break your heart! They have no feelings! They're not like us! He'll leave you to die in the wilderness! Mujar scum!"
Talsy sagged with relief when she found Chanter waiting further down the trail. He lifted a foreleg, and she scrambled onto his back, leaning forward to hug his neck.
"Thank you."
At dusk, the stallion stopped beside a massive tree. She dismounted, giving a choked cry as her ankle sent a shaft of pain up her leg. Pulling off the bag, she took a deep breath. The world froze as the icy surge of Earthpower clamped down, forcing a moment of utter stillness before it vanished as swiftly as it had come.
Talsy threw her arms around Chanter and pressed her cheek to his chest. "I'm sorry."
He shifted, patting her shoulder. "What for now?"
She released him and stepped back. "For that dreadful woman, throwing rocks at you."
He shrugged. "That's okay. I've had worse things thrown at me."
"Is that why you didn't want to help?"
"No."
Talsy turned to unpack the bag. "The same reason you'd have left me to die with a broken leg?"
"Yes." Chanter settled on a rock. "She hadn't earned my help, and nor would she have wanted it if she'd known what I was at the outset. Most Truemen hate Mujar."
She looked up and sighed. "I noticed. But you don't have to owe a person something to help them if they're in trouble. If you gave your help freely, people would like you far better."
"Finish your chores, and I'll tell you a little about Mujar."
When the tent was pitched and a pot of stew bubbled on the fire, she turned to him. "Well?"
He glanced at her with a slight smile. "It's not as interesting as you seem to think. Quite simply, it's forbidden for Mujar to help any who haven't earned it."
Recalling her father's explanation, she asked, "Why?"
"I can't tell you that. Mujar obey the laws and accept the consequences, which are sometimes unpleasant. Our ways have made Low - Truemen hate us, but they never really liked us in the first place. We're different, and your people dislike those who are not the same as them. When we first came amongst you, your people tried to enslave us. That's how they learnt of our powers, when they put iron chains on us. They thought us inferior, because we were not Truemen. Yet we don't hate them for throwing us into the Pits, or for reviling us."
"Then it's true, you don't have any emotions."
Chanter shook his head with a rueful smile. "We do, but hatred is not common for us, nor does it consume us as it does you. Truemen expect us to hate them for what they've done to us, and sometimes we do feel it, but it's a fleeting thing. You're mortal, so death may take you at any time. Mujar have the gift of life for a hundred years. Thus, we're different, and our ways are different too."
"I don't understand. My father forced you to help me by sticking that arrow in you, just as I did. Why help someone for pulling out the arrow they hurt you with in the first place?"
"We forgive the harm that's done to us, and are grateful for the end of the pain inflicted. By removing the arrow, you helped me, even though you were responsible for shooting me with it. You didn't have to pull it out, and had you not, I would have continued to suffer. More than that, I can't tell you. It's not always like that."
"Has someone helped you who didn't hurt you first?"
"Yes, when my clan was killed, a spear pinned me to the ground. I would have remained there for the rest of my life without help. If Dolana pierces a Mujar, we're unable to command it. I was too weak to pull it out, so I sent a raven with a message, and a Trueman saved me. I gave gratitude and granted a Wish, just as I did for you."
Talsy snorted. "So you'll accept help, but you won't give it."
"Not true. I'm helping you, and the Trueman who saved me."
"Because we earned it."
"Yes." He paused. "And now you despise me too."
She glanced at him. "No. I could never despise you. You're different, and I don't understand you, that's all."
Chanter smiled. "There are many things I don't understand about my kind. Why are Mujar different? Where do we come from? Why do we long for comforts we don't need? I don't know."
Talsy served the stew, her mind abuzz with questions now that he seemed willing to answer them. "Will you tell me about the Powers?"
"They are the four elements. Dolana, the Earthpower, is the reason I can't lie on the ground for too long. It's a cold Power, and it fills me up, pushing out Crayash, the Power of Fire. Truemen use it to trap Mujar. When filled with Dolana, Mujar can't wield another Power, and it makes us weak if we have too much in us. Dolana's an unfriendly Power. Crayash is the best and easiest to use. It keeps us warm. Ashmar is the Power of Air, and Shissar is the Power of Water."
"You use Shissar to heal."
"Yes, but it has many uses. Too many to tell you all of them."
"So you can control anything you want?" she asked.
"Yes."
"The weather?"
Chanter nodded. "Ashmar."
"The trees?"
"Dolana."
"The animals?"
Chanter set aside his empty bowl. "Everything. Animals are controlled by the Power in which they dwell, Dolana for beasts, Ashmar for birds and Shissar for fish."
"What about Crayash?"
"No animal dwells in fire."
"You could do anything then?" Talsy asked. "Make the mountains explode, the oceans run over, the earth open and swallow cities."
Chanter nodded, his eyes twinkling. "If I wanted to."
"That makes you... a god."
The Mujar threw back his head and laughed so hard he fell off the rock and sprawled in the snow. Talsy grinned, infected by his mirth, which he made no attempt to control. He said, "I knew that was coming."
"But it does!" she asserted. "You could rule the world!"
Chanter laughed even harder. "I don't want to rule the world!"
"Why not?"
"Why would I?"
She shook her head. "For power, for glory! To right all the wrongs and make it a better place."
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"No one can eradicate all wrong doings, nor bend every person to his will, except a god, which I'm not."
Talsy thumped the snow. "You could! If they didn't obey you, you just make the earth swallow them."
"Oh yes, that would make me very popular." He chuckled. "And soon there'd be no one left." His gaiety died, and he sat up. "How can a sweet girl like you be so bloodthirsty?"
"I'm not," she protested, then frowned. "It would be for their own good, to stop all the silly wars and crime. Like the Black Riders. You could wipe them out."
The Mujar sighed. "It wouldn't work."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not a god, and I can't kill."
"Can't or won't?" she demanded.
"Both. Death is the province of Marrana, Lady of Death, and I don't control it. You see, she really is a goddess, as is Antanar, Lord of Life."
Talsy snorted. "They don't exist. There's only one god."
"That's your god, who dwells wherever you come from," he said. "But these are mine. I've seen Marrana."
"How can you see a god?"
He smiled. "If you believe your deductions, you're sitting next to one."
She ignored his teasing. "When did you see her?"
"On my clan's killing fields."
"What did she look like?"
"A mist, a face... Three faces, actually."
Talsy considered that, struck by the strangeness of the Mujar's earlier statement. "Why did you say, 'wherever I come from'?"
Chanter's brows rose. "You don't come from this world. Don't you know that?"
"Then where do we come from?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
"Then how do you know we don't belong here?"
"Because you're different."
"How?"
"You don't fit in." He looked pensive. "How can I explain? Every living thing of this world relates to it, see? Every creature feels the Powers and can use them, but you don't, and nor do your animals. Your people don't belong here."
She stared at him. "How long have we been here?"
"I don't know."
"How did we get here?"
"You came in a wingless silver bird that fell from the sky, and my gods remade you and your beasts."
Talsy shook her head in confusion. "But you saw your Goddess of Death on your clan's killing fields. What was she doing?"
"Gathering souls."
"The souls of my people, who don't belong here."
He nodded. "What choice does she have?"
"She could leave them here."
"That would probably cause problems."
"What does she do with them?"
"They go to the Lake of Dreams." He paused, eyeing her, then added, "The silver bird brought five hundred and thirty-seven Trueman souls here, as well as several less evolved souls. The gods could have destroyed them, but they decided to give them a chance and recreated the forms in which they lived, putting many of them into animals, which they learnt about from the souls' memories. Souls multiply when they leave their corporeal bodies, sloughing off sparks that then start new lives as simple animals. They rest in the Lake of Dreams until they're reborn."
"A paradise?"
"Something like that."
Talsy stared into space for several minutes while she pondered this.
Chanter waited, studying her, then broke into her reverie. "Have I answered all your questions?"
She shook her head. "You don't have all the answers."
"That's because I'm not a god."
"You're a demigod then. Certainly to me you are."
He smiled. "Well, just don't expect me to tear down the mountains or part the seas, and certainly not solve all the problems of the world."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't. I mean, I could tear down the mountains, but I wouldn't want to, but I can't solve the problems of the world."
"Because you won't kill?"
"Yes, if killing is the answer."
"It seems to me that Mujar are very gentle people," she said. "To have so much power, and yet refuse to use it violently, even when you're tortured and thrown into the Pits, must be hard. My father told me that you'll never harm a person, and he hates your kind."
"Your father's wrong. Mujar can do great harm, very easily. Too easily, in fact. The mere manifestation of our power can frighten Truemen, as it did you. But we try not to do harm."
"How do you know so much about the silver bird and everything? Who told you?"
He looked puzzled. "No one."
"Then how do you know about it?"
He shrugged. "I just do."
"You mean you were born with it?"
"I suppose so." He rose and added more wood to the fire, apparently losing interest in the conversation. Darkness surrounded them, and Talsy yawned behind her hand.
Chanter turned to her. "Better let me fix that ankle."
She had almost forgotten the painful joint, but as soon as he reminded her, it ached. She cocked her head and smiled. "Do I deserve a Wish?"
"No, this is part of the clan bond. Within a clan, small favours are earned with comforts. There's no need for a Wish. As I recall, you asked for help and transportation as the clan bargain, and this is help. Protection was your Wish."
"What's the difference?"
He sighed. "Not a lot, except I can break clan bond at any time, but not until your Wish of protection has been fulfilled."
"So if I never need your protection..."
He shot her a smile. "That's unlikely, or I wouldn't have granted it."
Chanter healed her ankle, and she wondered afresh at this strange man who would not lift a finger to save a person in trouble. Afterwards, she crawled into the tent, where he joined her for a while to share his warmth, propped up on one elbow as before, and she fell asleep snuggled close to him. She woke later alone, and waited for his return. Each time he was there when she fell asleep, and in the morning she woke to find him lying beside her. He did not stay long, and it seemed that her longing for greater intimacy was doomed, since he could only spend a short while lying on the ground.