Nog's skin flushed in a smile. 'There's a night wind on this world. The days are a little unpleasant, but the nights are glorious.'
'The Ashmar grows stronger?'
'No, it can't, of course. This world lacks Ashmar, but when the night wind blows you hardly notice the scarcity. It's hard to describe. The wind is cold and screams across the land in a fury, invigorating whatever it touches. It's an angry spirit that fears the sun.'
'Strange.' Chanter glanced at the sun again. 'Tell me a little more about the Lake of Joy.'
Nog gave a fluting snort. 'It is ill named, if you ask me. I only went there once, and I wouldn't visit again. As I said, it's a place of food, but there's so much that the air is always filled with the stench of rot. Like this world, it's dominated by plants, but it's hot and humid, lacking in Dolana. I never saw solid ground, only a bubbling quagmire of mud that produces a profusion of plants so huge and dense we have to perch atop them to find the sun. None of the Lakes are as perfect as Shamarese.'
'I suppose not. Does this world have a name?'
'Probably, but we call it Dyanga.'
Chanter smiled at the name, which meant 'breathless'. He rose and stretched. 'I suppose I must go back.'
'Rejoice that you can.' Nog regarded him wistfully. 'How much longer will it be?'
'It has begun.'
Joyful colours raced across the predator's skin. 'That is welcome news. The others will be pleased.'
Chanter inclined his head. 'Perhaps I'll see you again.'
'Perhaps. Farewell, Mujar.'
Nog returned to his friend, leaving Chanter to gaze around at this strange world one last time. As soon as he decided to leave the Lake, a new god word sprang into his mind, and he spoke it as he stepped forward.
Chapter Five
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.
