ftp.ee.pdx.edu/2014.02.ftp.ee.pdx.edu.tar/ftp.ee.pdx.edu/pub/frp/stories/jayhawk/jay124

Text File | 1992-03-01 | 5KB | 130 lines

124.  Talons

"Greetings, fledgeling," said the Hawk to Jayhawk, and added in a
somewhat disapproving fashion, "I see you still travel the paths of
Machine."  As before, it had no voice that she could hear; its words
were in the tilt of its head, the ruffling of its feathers in the wind.

It was huge; she could have fit in the pupil of its golden eye.  She
glanced down, saw the last fragments of her silver prison soaking into
the nest like water.  "I came to ask you for advice, since your
advice was good last time."  She sat down on a projecting twig.  "Will
you help me?"

"What do you need?"

"I've decided to try to heal the Dragon at Paradisio.  I have some idea
how to go about it, but I don't know...a couple of things.  How to
convince him, for one."

"A difficult task.  What do you need to know?  You must ask questions; I
cannot guess."

She thought about that for a little while.  "What does he respect?  What
does he value?  I have myself as evidence, my own wholeness, but what if
that's not enough?  I mean to ask him to do things that he won't want to
do."

"You wish power to force him?"

She shook her head.  "I don't think I can.  I need...authority?  Some
way to make him really listen to me."

"Such authority," said the Hawk gravely, "cannot be given as a gift.  If
you do not have it in yourself, you can have it only as the agent of
someone else--if I were to make you my agent, for example.  I do not think
that that is what you want."  She shook her head, fancied that she saw
approval in the great eye.  "Do you think you have such authority within
yourself, Jayhawk?"

"I don't know.  What would he respect?  What has meaning to him?  I need
to know more about him."

"He respects death....No.  Not exactly.  He respects sacrifice, and
mortality is part of that."

She shivered, hearing the echo of Jay's thoughts in the pyramidal
prison.  "Why would an immortal creature care about death?"

"I don't know."

She dug her fingernails into the rough bark of her seat, not looking up.
"It seems to me," she said presently, "that one of the things I'll have
to do to heal him is...is hold things together for him while he
re-creates himself, as Jay did for me.  Can I survive that?  Will there
be anything of me left?"

"I don't know," the Hawk said again.  "Only you can judge whether you
have that kind of strength.  I do know that if you do not, only being
claimed by another will keep you from him."

She wondered if that was an offer.  "Here's another problem, then.
There are thirty thousand angry ghosts waiting for their revenge.  I
don't think that they'll accept healing him as a solution.  How can I
deal with them?"

"There are three ways to deal with hunters.  You can fly too fast or too
far for them to catch; grow such claws that they cannot defeat you; or
change yourself until you no longer resemble prey."  It rubbed one great claw
briefly against its beak.

"I don't think we can run away from ghosts, not in this world; I don't
think he'd consent to run anyway."

"I could give you power to destroy them, though I cannot say whether you
would succeed."

That definitely *was* an offer.  She shook her head.  "It seems wrong to
destroy them--they're *right*, dammit, they have a right to want
vengeance.  I think that if things go as I plan, they'll be avenged in
full, but I don't know if they...."

"Could you persuade each one?"

"Thirty thousand ghosts?  Even if I had time, I never could.  Some of
them would be bound to refuse, because they're stubborn or vindictive
or...well, just because."

"Then perhaps he must be changed so greatly that they will not recognize
him."

"How?  How do ghosts find people anyway?"

"The flavor of their souls, the taste of their blood....I do not know
how this could be done, if the initation you speak of does not do it."

"Will it?"

"Again, I don't know.  Your first problem will be much greater if it is.
I do not think he will wish to become so estranged from what he is."

"Am I mortal?" she said suddenly.

The great head bent to peer at her.  "You can be killed; but you will
never die of old age if you remain as you are."

She sat quietly for a minute, digesting that.  "You said that he
respects death," she said at last.  "Who could tell me why, or how I can
use that to persuade him?  How can I talk to the powers of death?"
Ratty had done that once, she remembered, though his explanations had
meant nothing to her.  She was startled at herself.  But it seemed
pointless to back out now, after she had come so far.

"I can send you," said the Hawk.  "Returning is another matter."

She stood, said formally, "Please do, then."  Still not quite believing
what she was doing.

"Be strong," said the Hawk softly.  "This will hurt...a great deal."
Was that a hint of anger in the soundless voice?  She had refused him
three times....A great claw struck out at her, caught her at the base of
the throat and tore her open with force almost too great for pain,
though there was pain too, clear with Anubis' impossible, dreadful
clarity.  A last thought, an echo of Jay in the burning darkness:

*A sacrifice for *him*.  Perhaps it's fate.*

--

Copyright 1992 Mary K. Kuhner