made sense, yet none of it did. If the Dark creature that had followed her for days was what she suspected, and if the spirit of Lennet was truly about, then either spell might be the wish of either!
Did Lennet want her to banish the Dark, then give him life again? Or did he truly wish banishment, but not without showing Alluen a means, perhaps, to protect herself from his own unfortunate fate? It might be possible to use the life-giving spell that way....
Or had the Dark shown her the first spell, hoping she would banish Lennet, only to have the wizard's spirit turn the page to the second spell?
And was Lennet, indeed, Lennet? All creatures of Darkness were well practiced in deception. The Dark could have invented the dream, which meant that Lennet—by some grace of god—had been the one to court her these past few days. Neither presence seemed a threat to her. Neither seemed capable of evil. Yet neither could be trusted, for surely some of what she sensed was the beast of Jon's warning—if he was to be believed. And if Thella was to be believed, Lennet was not to be trusted in any case!
The questions seemed endless!
Still, she could not just do nothing. Tomorrow night would bring the Dark upon the village, and would mark the one time when either spell might work. The best thing to do was leave come first light. Go on to the next village and never look back. Alluen shook her head at this. 'I will have to do the next best thing,' she told herself, summoning her courage, finally settling on a plan, and a reason to believe such a fool's gambit might even work.
She considered the idea as the rain was letting up, as the sun began to rise. She was soaked, despite spending half the night under the eaves of a stable. Still, she waited out much of the day there, going over her plans, and returned to the house only as the shadows grew long again. As the day became Lammas Night.
Alluen stood in the circle she had redrawn upon the floor boards of the wizard's house, still not certain whether she was doing the right thing, or whether she had a right to do anything at all. Someone, or something, would surely die this night. She closed her eyes now and recited the spell she had chosen, changing just one more word on her own. Where the spell called for one name, she uttered two.
Instantly before her, two figures took shape, side by side, one forming into a man perhaps a head taller man Alluen, then the other, a man only slightly taller than the first. They were both young and rather pleasant to look at, both quite naked. For an instant both stared straight at her. Then they looked askance at one another, and lunged at each other. They fell struggling to the floor.
'Help me!' one of them shouted.
'Run!' the second cried.
Alluen drew her father's dagger, held it by the point, and threw. The man who had spoken first fell away from the second, clutching at the carved bone handle of the dagger, its blade buried in his side. Thick, black blood ran from the wound. Alluen waited until the body stopped moving, until she felt the Darkness leave the house, then she bent and worked the dagger free.
'Lennet,' she said to the one remaining. The man beside her stood perfectly still but for a nod.
'You were both mage-born,' she said, holding the knife up, practically shaking it in his face. 'You by nature, and the Dark by that old fool, Kimall.'
Lennet nodded again, his expression one of amazement.
'It was you followed me through the house, and left the blossom on my plate,' she went on. 'You tried to banish the Dark thing, and failed.'
'I nearly succeeded,' he said, his voice low and tenuous. 'It might have worked, tried once more. But when the Dark came to you in your dreams, I thought he had convinced you to use the spell on me.'
'That was when you turned the page,' Alluen said with a grin. He was all gooseflesh. She went into the bedroom and brought back a blanket, which. Lennet wrapped around himself.
'What I didn't know was whether I could trust you,' Alluen told him. 'Jon the mayor might have, I think, yet his wife thought you a louse.' Alluen's grin widened. 'But I rather like poor old Jon. When the voice in my dream warned me to believe nothing any of the villagers said, I took that only one way.'
'Ah,' Lennet said, coming close to her now, showing her eyes she had felt for days, eyes now filled with her own reflection. 'But how did you know which of us was me?'
'I've known only one man who truly loved me. Had he been one of you, no matter how desperate the struggle, he would have told me to run to safety.'
'I... wasn't sure of what might happen.'
Alluen smiled. 'Neither was I.'
'We should go, and tell the villagers,' Lennet suggested. 'Did you find any of my clothes about?'
'For now, we are not going anywhere,' Alluen informed him. 'Trust in that.'
The Captive Song
Josepha Sherman
After the War had ended and our side had won—at least as far as royalty and generals were concerned—I could have had my pick of positions, maybe even have taken some noble title and settled down at court, though such vanities are rare among the wizard-land. But I had seen enough of crowds by then, enough of armies and men torn and bloody or dying warped out of all humanity by war-spells; I could not bear the burden of city or court.
So one night I set out by myself, on foot as is traditional of wizard wanderers.
And wander I did, one woman alone, traveling restlessly by day, sleeping restlessly by night, my dreams still touched with horror. The War had been meant, as all of them seem to be, to bring peace. It had, in a way; there were regions blasted to peaceful ash by wizardry. I wandered on, trying to outpace memory and find some place
