Equal Rites

“Tell me about the lands down there,” she said lazily.

Granny peered disapprovingly at ten thousand miles of landscape.

“They’re just other places,” she said. “Just like here, only different.”

“Are there cities and things?”

“I daresay.”

“Haven’t you ever been to look?”

Granny sat back, gingerly arranging her skirt to expose several inches of respectable flannelette to the sun, and let the heat caress her old bones.

“No,” she said. “There’s quite enough troubles around here without going to look for them in forn parts.”

“I dreamed of a city once,” said Esk. “It had hundreds of people in it, and there was this building with big gates, and they were magical gates—”

A sound like tearing cloth came from behind her. Granny had fallen asleep.

“Granny!”

“Mhnf?”

Esk thought for a moment. “Are you having a good time?” she said artfully.

“Mnph.”

“You said you’d show me some real magic, all in good time,” said Esk, “and this is a good time.”

“Mnph.”

Granny Weatherwax opened her eyes and looked straight up at the sky; it was darker up here, more purple than blue. She thought: why not? She’s a quick learner. She knows more herblore than I do. At her age old Gammer Tumult had me Borrowing and Shifting and Sending all the hours of the day. Maybe I’m being too cautious.

“Just a bit?” pleaded Esk.

Granny turned it over in her mind. She couldn’t think of any more excuses. I’m surely going to regret this, she told herself, displaying considerable foresight.

“All right,” she said shortly.

“Real magic?” said Esk. “Not more herbs or headology?”

“Real magic, as you call it, yes.”

“A spell?”

“No. A Borrowing.”

Esk’s face was a picture of expectation. She looked more alive, it seemed to Granny, than she had ever been before.

Granny looked over the valleys stretching out before them until she found what she was after. A grey eagle was circling lazily over a distant blue-hazed patch of forest. Its mind was currently at ease. It would do nicely.

She Called it gently, and it began to circle towards them.

“The first thing to remember about Borrowing is that you must be comfortable and somewhere safe,” she said, smoothing out the grass behind her. “Bed’s best.”

“But what is Borrowing?”

“Lie down and hold my hand. Do you see the eagle up there?”

Esk squinted into the dark, hot sky.

There were…two doll figures on the grass below as she pivoted on the wind…

She could feel the whip and wire of the air through her feathers. Because the eagle was not hunting, but simply enjoying the feel of the sun on its wings, the land below was a mere unimportant shape. But the air, the air was a complex, changing three-dimensional thing, an interlocked pattern of spirals and curves that stretched away into the distance, a switchback of currents built around thermal pillars. She…

… felt a gentle pressure restraining her.

“The next thing to remember,” said Granny’s voice, very close, “is not to upset the owner. If you let it know you’re there it’ll either fight you or panic, and you won’t stand a chance either way. It’s had a lifetime of being an eagle, and you haven’t.”

Esk said nothing.

“You’re not frightened, are you?” said Granny. “It can take you that way the first time, and—”

“I’m not frightened,” said Esk, and “How do I control it?”

“You don’t. Not yet. Anyway, controlling a truly wild creature isn’t easily learned. You have to—sort of suggest to it that it might feel inclined to do things. With a tame animal, of course, it’s all different. But you can’t make any creature do anything that is totally against its nature. Now try and find the eagle’s mind.”

Esk could sense Granny as a diffuse silver cloud at the back of her own mind. After some searching she found the eagle. She almost missed it. Its mind was small, sharp and purple, like an arrowhead. It was concentrating entirely on flying, and took no notice of her.

“Good,” said Granny approvingly. “We’re not going to go far. If you want to make it turn, you must—”

“Yes, yes,” said Esk. She flexed her fingers, wherever they were, and the bird leaned against the air and turned.

“Very good,” said Granny, taken aback. “How did you do that?”

“I—don’t know. It just seemed obvious.”

“Hmph.” Granny gently tested the tiny eagle mind. It was still totally oblivious of its passengers. She was genuinely impressed, a very rare occurrence.

They floated over the mountain, while Esk excitedly explored the eagle’s senses. Granny’s voice droned through her consciousness, giving instructions and guidance and warnings. She listened with half an ear. It sounded far too complicated. Why couldn’t she take over the eagle’s mind? It wouldn’t hurt it.

She could see how to do it, it was just a knack, like snapping your fingers—which in fact she had never managed to achieve—and then she’d be able to experience flying for real, not at second hand.

Then she could—

“Don’t,” said Granny calmly. “No good will come of it.”

“What?”

“Do you really think you’re the first, my girl? Do you think we haven’t all thought what a fine thing it would be, to take on another body and tread the wind or breathe the water? And do you really think it would be as easy as that?”

Esk glowered at her.

“No need to look like that,” said Granny. “You’ll thank me one day. Don’t you start playing around before you know what you’re about, eh? Before you get up to tricks you’ve got to learn what to do if things go wrong. Don’t try to walk before you can run.”

“I can feel how to do it, Granny.”

“That’s as maybe. It’s harder than it seems, is Borrowing, although I’ll grant you’ve got a knack. That’s enough for today, bring us in over ourselves and I’ll show you how to Return.”

The eagle beat the air over the two recumbent forms and Esk saw, in her mind’s eye, two channels open for them. Granny’s mindshape vanished.

Now—

Granny had been wrong. The eagle mind barely fought, and didn’t have time to panic. Esk held it wrapped in her own mind. It writhed for an instant, and then melted into her.

Granny opened her eyes in time to see the bird give a hoarse cry of triumph, curve down low over the grass- grown scree, and skim away down the mountainside. For a moment it was a vanishing dot and then it had gone, leaving only another echoing shriek.

Granny looked down at Esk’s silent form. The girl was light enough, but it was a long way home and the afternoon was dwindling.

“Drat,” she said, with no particular emphasis. She stood up, brushed herself down and, with a grunt of effort, hauled Esk’s inert body over her shoulder.

High in the crystal sunset air above the mountains the eagle-Esk sought more height, drunk with the sheer vitality of flight.

On the way home Granny met a hungry bear. Granny’s back was giving her gyp, and she was in no mood to