The Eagle And The Nightingales

Her hands were weary, and her voice had taken on that edge of hoarseness that warned her it was about to deteriorate. And under T'fyrr's brave front, she felt bone-tiredness.

If ever we can drive this thing away_no, lead it away!_it must be now!

So she changed the tune, right in the middle of 'Aerie,' to one of the simplest songs she had ever learned:

'The Briars of Home.'

It was the lullaby of an exile to her child, singing of all the small things she missed, all of them in her garden. The smell of certain flowers in the spring; the way that the grass looked after the rain. The taste of herbs that would not grow where she was now. The leaves falling in autumn; the snow covering the sleeping plants in winter. The songs of birds that would not fly in her new garden. The feel of the soil beneath her hands, and the joy of seeing the first sprouting plants. And the homesickness, the bittersweet knowledge that she would never experience any of those tiny pleasures again, for all that she was happy enough in the new land. And last of all_how she would give all of the wealth she possessed in the new place for one short walk in her own garden at home.

And as the last notes fell into silence, It spoke to her for the second and last time.

'I have a garden.'

And with those four words, It snapped the coercions binding It, and vanished.

But Theovere did not return to his body; instead, he stood there staring at it, empty-eyed and hollow. He looked old, terribly old; he stood with hanging hands, stooped-over and defeated.

What's wrong? Why won't he wake?

She stretched out her already thin resources to him, trying to sense what was wrong. But she had nothing left; she could not touch him, and her own spirit cried out in frustration_

T'fyrr began to sing. Softly at first, a song she did not recognize initially, until she realized that he was singing it in a translation so that Theovere would understand it. It was not from any of the Twenty Kingdoms, and she doubted that anyone here had ever heard it but herself before this moment. It was a song T'fyrr had told her had been written by and for the Spirit-Brothers.

'What is courage?' its chorus asked_and the song answered, 'It is to give when hope is gone, when there is no chance that men may call you a hero, when you have tried and failed and rise to try again.' It asked the same of friendship, answering that 'the friend stands beside you when you are right and all others despise you for it_and corrects you when you are wrong and all others praise you for it.' There was more, much more, and the more T'fyrr sang, the more the Theovere-spirit took heart. In a strange way, these definitions, intended to guide the Spirit- Brothers of the Haspur as they endeavored to help their own kind and their adopted brothers, were equally applicable to_say_a High King.

With the words, came the feelings. Not only the ones called up by the definitions, but the pain-filled emotions, the things that both of them had endured over the past several years at the hands of those who hated and feared anything that did not fit their own narrow definitions of 'appropriate.' The Theovere- spirit took those in, too, wincing more than a little as he was forced to acknowledge that this was due to his own neglect, but accepting that as well.

He is looking into the mirror again_but this time, he is seeing not only what is, but what was, and what may be again!

She simply followed the music with her harpsong, as her heart, this time, followed his.

When it was over, the Theovere-spirit stood up straight and tall, looking many years younger than his true age, his eyes bright again with light and life. A sword appeared from nowhere in his hand; he swept it, silvery and bright, and used it to salute both of them.

And then he faded away into a bright mist.

Oh_NO!

Nightingale dropped back into the outer world with a violent shock.

She stared at the bed, certain that the figure in it was no longer alive. Her eyes blurred with exhaustion, as what seemed to be a hundred people suddenly poured into the room.

She shrank away, waiting for them to seize her, seize T'fyrr, haul them both off into the gaols never to be seen again.

And Theovere slowly sat up with a firm, determined smile set on his face.