Excerpt from WILD MAGIC |
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A week later they crossed the River Drell into Tortall on a ferryboat. Watching the Gallan shore pull away, Daine searched her soul. I should tell Onua all the truth, she thought. (By then she had given her new friend the less painful details of her life, and had come to see Onua was right--it felt better to talk.) I should tell the rest--but won't she turn on me, like they did? Maybe it's best to keep shut. Ma's and Grandda's bones, the madness, the scandal--it's all back there. Maybe that's where it should stay. She went forward, to look at Tortall as it moved closer. I could start fresh. It can't be worse than home, with folk calling me "bastard" and scorning me. Nobody here knows I've no father, and they don't know about the other thing--the bad thing. They wouldn't need to know. "You worry too much." Onua ruffled the girl's hair. "It'll work out. You'll see." Cloud butted Daine's shoulder; Tahoi pawed her leg. Their concern and Onua's gave her comfort. I'll manage, she told herself as the ferry bumped the landing dock on the Tortallan shore. Silence is best. The country beyond the crossing was a mixture of hills and wide valleys, some of it farmed and grazed, but most left to the woods. Towns here were back from the road, and traffic this early in the spring was thin. There was little to keep them from their usual routine of camp and march, riding the ponies, hunting for game birds or fish for their supper. The third day from the river brought rain, slowing them and the animals down before the sky cleared at day's end. Both women were up late, getting mud out of shaggy coats and off their own skins and clothes. It was the first time on that trip that no animal crawled in with Daine overnight. She slept badly, flipping back and forth, never quite waking or sleeping. Her dreams were thin and worrisome. She remembered only one: The badger was in his lair, neatening up. "There you are. I'm glad to see the claw works so well." "Excuse me, sir--" she began. "No questions. Kits must listen, not ask. Pay attention." He squinted at her to make sure she was listening. "If you look hard and long, you can find us. If you listen hard and long, you can hear any of us, call any of us, that you want." Rolling onto his back, he added, "The madness was to teach you something. You should mind the lesson." She woke a little before dawn. The sky was grey and damp, the air sour. "Onua." When the woman only stirred and muttered, she went over and shook her. "I think trouble's coming. Last time I felt this way, a rabid bear came out of the woods and killed the blacksmith." "A rabid bear?" The K'mir yanked on her clothes, and Daine followed suit. "Goddess, how many of those do you see in a lifetime?" "One's more than enough." She rolled up her bed and fixed it to her pack. The animals were restless and ill-tempered. Tahoi paced the camp, his hackles up. He stopped often to look down the road, only to resume pacing. "Maybe it's another storm?" Onua suggested over breakfast. "I don't think so." Daine gave her barely-touched porridge to Cloud. "My head aches--not aches, exactly. It's--itchy." She sniffed the breeze, to pick up only the scent of water and plants. "The wind's not right, either."
Daine warmed her longbow and strung it. The quiver's weight on her back made her feel better as they took the road. Past the next ridge she saw a wide, shallow valley filled with reeds and water, with nowhere to hide. By the time they reached the center of the green expanse, the hair was standing on the back of her neck. Where are the frogs, and the birds? she wondered when they stopped for a breather. I don't even see dragonflies. Something made her glance at the wood that bordered the far edge of the marsh. "Onua!" She pointed as a bird shot from the cover of the trees. It was black and hawk-shaped, flying crazily, as if drunk. Shrieks, metallic and shrill, tore the air. Eight giant things--they looked like birds at first--chased the hawk out of the cover of the trees. Immense wings beat the air that reached women and ponies, filling their noses with a stink so foul it made Daine retch. The ponies screamed in panic. Daine tried to soothe them, though she wanted to scream, too. These were monsters. No animal combined a human head and chest with a bird's legs and wings. Sunlight bounced off talons and feathers that shone like steel. She counted five males, three females: one female wore a crown of black glass. Onua gave a two-fingered whistle that could be heard the length of the valley. When the monsters turned to find the source of the noise, their quarry dropped into the cover of the reeds and vanished. The monsters swept the area, over and over, trying to find the black hawk without success. "Look at them," Onua whispered. "They use a grid pattern to search by--they're working that part of the marsh in squares. They're intelligent." "And they can't land easy on level ground," Daine pointed out. "Those claws aren't meant to flatten out. They have to fly--they can't walk!" When the creatures gave up, they turned on the women. Daine watched them come, her bow--like Onua's--ready to fire. The attackers were smeared with filth. When they spoke or smiled, she saw razor-sharp teeth caked with what she knew was old blood. Halting over the road, they fanned their wings to stay aloft. Their smell was suffocating. "We almost had the motherless spy," one of them snarled. "But you had to interfere," another said. "Never interfere with us." It lifted its wings above its head and stooped. The others followed. "Daine, fire!" Onua shot: her arrow struck the first, hitting a wing with a sound of metal on metal, and bounced off. Daine struck a man-thing square in the throat. He dropped with a cry that brought sweat to her face. Onua and Daine fired steadily, aiming for the flesh of heads and chests. A female almost grabbed Daine by the hair before Onua killed her. Cloud got one by a leg, and Tahoi seized its other foot. Together pony and dog tore the monster apart. Birds--herons, bitterns, plovers, larks--rose from hiding-places to fight the creatures, blinding some, pecking others, clogging the air so the enemy couldn't see. Many paid for their help with their lives. The glass-crowned one was finally the only monster alive. She hovered just out of Onua's range, one of the K'mir's arrows lodged in her shoulder. "Pink pigs!" she snarled. "How dare you defy me, maggots! You filth!" "Look who's talking," Daine shouted, sliding an arrow onto her string. She lowered her bow, wanting the creature to think she was done. "Your Ma was a leech with bad teeth," she taunted. Onua laughed in spite of herself. "Your Da was a pea-hen. I know chickens with more brains than you!" The queen screamed and dropped, claws extended. Daine brought the bow up, loosing as she reached the best point in her swing. Her arrow buried itself in the queen's eye as Onua cheered.
"Ohhh, I'll remember you, girly." The hate in her voice forced Daine back a step. "Your name on my heart." She looked at Onua. "I'll return for you two ground-crawlers. You belong to Zhaneh Bitterclaws now." She launched herself into higher air and was gone. "I can't believe it." Onua sounded as if she were talking to herself. "The rumors said there were monsters abroad, but these? Where did they come from?" She went to examine the body of one of the creatures, the stink so bad she had to cover her nose to get close to it. Limping, Daine followed. She was unhurt, but she felt battered and cut and torn in a thousand places. A chickadee lay in the road. She picked it up, to find a wing was attached by only a bit of skin. Tears rolled down her checks to fall on the dying bird. All around her birds lay in the rushes, bleeding, dead. "I'm sorry, little ones," she whispered. "You should've stayed hid." Her temples pounded. Stripes of black and yellow fire crossed her vision. Her ears filled with a roaring sound, and she fainted. Onua saw her fall. A bird that had been in Daine's hand jumped into the air and zipped past, nearly missing the K'mir's nose. In the marsh, she heard a rush of song. Birds took off, clumsily at first, as if they were stiff. An owl that lay in the road moved, then flew away as she stared. She was positive that bird's head had been cut half-off. Shaking her head, she went to the fallen girl. As far as she could tell, Daine was unhurt. With a grunt the K'mir levered her onto a shoulder, surprised by how light she was. "You need to eat more," she told her burden as she carried her to the ponies. Cloud trotted over to nuzzle Daine, worry in every line of the pony's body. "I don't suppose you know a place where we can all get off the road," Onua asked, half-jesting, never thinking these animals would understand her as they did the girl. Cloud trotted into a nearby stand of reeds. Just beyond her Onua saw a clearing, floored in solid ground. This was food for thought. Onua followed Cloud. The remainder of the ponies followed her, Tahoi bringing up the rear. Reprinted with permission of Atheneum Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division, from WILD MAGIC by Tamora Pierce. Copyright (c)1992 by Tamora Pierce. Back to Main "What's it All About?" PageBack to Main Page |
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Note to the reader: Daine, a
13-year-old orphan girl, has just gone to work for Onua. Together they are
bringing mountain ponies from Galla to Tortall, where the ponies--and
Daine--will work for the new military company called the Queen's Riders.
Onua looked at her thoughtfully, then doused the fire. "Let's go." She
hitched the ponies to lead-reins while Daine secured the packs. "There's a fief
on the other side of this next valley, near a marsh. If need be, we'll ask for
shelter. I'd prefer not to." She strung her curved bow. "Lord Sinthya doesn't
like the Queen; he loathes the Riders. Still, we can wait a storm out in his
barns, particularly if no one tells him we're there. If we're caught in the
marsh, we're in trouble. I don't know any marsh-craft." 
Daine had another arrow on the string and in the air, but the queen pulled
away. Blood dripped from her ruined eye. If she felt pain, she ignored it,
hovering well out of bow-shot, her good eye furious. 
