The Pearl of the Soul of the World - By Meredith Ann Pierce Page 0,23
her, "if only that were so."
Sick, silently raging, Aeriel stumbled away from camp. The red sand's dry crust broke and crumbled underfoot. She met no one—No one hindered her. The pavilions fell away behind. The night all around stretched dark and still—but she could not escape the hateful words still ringing in her mind, or the memory of what had passed between Irrylath and Sabr.
"Thief!" she gasped, shuddering, scarcely able to draw breath. "Queen of thieves!" Erin had been right. Ducking, Aeriel fought back tears. "Irrylath belongs to me."
Something stirred in the darkness ahead of her. Abruptly, Aeriel stumbled to a stop. Hand at her breast, she peered through the pale glimmer of stars and Oceanuslight. Her palm hid the faint glow of the pearl. The creature before her cawed and flexed its wings. As tall as her forearm was long it stood: completely black. Its feathers threw back no sheen at all, depthless as shadow. Aeriel froze. The black bird cawed again and looked at her. In its beak it held a silver pin.
"Greetings, little sorceress," it said, taking the pin in one of its claws to speak.
Aeriel felt her skin prickle. "You are one of the Witch's rhuks."
"Yes," it laughed.
"What do you want of me?" she demanded, casting about her, wondering how she could have been so blind as to leave the camp alone, unarmed. The empty dunes stretched all around.
"Our lady has a proposition for you," chuckled the rhuk. It played with the silver pin in its toes.
"Do not call her my lady," Aeriel spat. "Your mistress was never mine."
"My lady wishes to confer with you," the bird replied. "There is no need for war. Surely this matter can be settled amicably between the two of you, face-to-face."
"I mean to face her," Aeriel returned hotly, "as soon as may be, and with an army at my back."
The black bird hissed. "Relinquish Irrylath. My mistress has a prior claim." It hopped toward her, one-footed, across the sand, its other claw clutching the pin.
"My mistress will reward you with any lover you wish. She will kill Sabr, if you wish."
Aeriel fell back before the Witch's messenger.
"My mistress will make you immortal, like herself, if you so desire," the black bird rasped. "She has always longed for a daughter, an heir…"
"She is not immortal," cried Aeriel, sick with loathing at the sight of the bird: the lorelei made her darkangels' wings from the feathers of such as these. "If she were deathless, she would not fear me."
The rhuk laughed. "Do it for Irrylath's sake," it crooned. "Things will go worse for him if you force my lady to take him from you."
"No!" shouted Aeriel, nearly losing her footing in the soft, treacherous sand.
"Yield!" the bird exclaimed. "Ravenna's luck has deserted you. You don't even know the last stanza of the rime. My mistress is prepared to be generous if you will surrender now."
Aeriel felt the ground sloping sharply upward beneath her feet. The rhuk had backed her against the steep of a dune. For a moment, panic rose in her as she realized she had nowhere left to retreat.
"Your mistress is in mortal terror of me," she answered suddenly, remembering Erin's words. "If the Witch thought she could win, she would have sent her army against us by now."
"My mistress has let your army come this far because it amuses her," the rhuk replied, "to watch children playing at war." The silver pin gleamed in its grasp. "And because you have done her the invaluable service of assembling all her enemies in one place."
Aeriel clenched her teeth. Her hand at her breast made a fist of the fabric of her gown. How dared this creature corner her and issue its demands? How dared it urge her to surrender Irrylath and the war?
As she left the dune and strode toward it, the black rhuk fluttered hastily back, raising a fine, dry rain of sand. Aeriel quickened her stride.
"Why has your mistress sent the likes of you against me?" she inquired evenly. "I have killed your kind before."
"My mistress has no intention of killing you," the black bird hissed, "for then the magic locked in you would escape and be loose in the world. One of her enemies might gather it up, as you did the magic of the starhorse. Better to pin you!"
With a raucous cry, the black bird took wing. For an instant Aeriel thought she had put it to flight.