Though All the Mountains Lie Between Page 4

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  She blinked; her dreams fled. Mogurn's voice startled her a second time, growling, "Are you being paid to sleep?" The anger in his voice was sharp, too sharp. She turned to look at him, standing just inside her door, and she pictured him cremated by dragon fire. "Make yourself ready and come see me in the galley,"' he ordered. Then he vanished.

  Jael roused herself worriedly. Mogurn sounded unwell, perhaps unstable. Could that be a result of a synaptic overdose? She'd have to be careful—best to get back into the net quickly. And—strangely!—she was terribly anxious about Highwing. A queer ache settled in her chest when she thought of the dragon; it reminded her of the longing she felt for the pallisp. Or used to feel. At the moment, she didn't want the pallisp; she wanted to be with Highwing.

  Head spinning, she went to the galley. Mogurn was eating, and under his baleful eye she dialed something for herself. As she began to eat, he spoke sharply. "Twice you've disobeyed. And you entered the net without permission, and put us in trouble with dragons. Are we clear of dragons now?" His voice sounded strained.

  Jael swallowed. Highwing, burn him! she thought, wishing that the dragon could be here to obey. She chose her words cautiously. "We could still have trouble." Mogurn's eyes flashed. "But we are nearing the final current to Lexis. I should return to the net at once."

  The shipowner squinted, his facial muscles tense. "You don't like me much, do you?" he said tightly. "You never did. But you like your pallisp well enough, don't you? And there is no man who can wield the pallisp for you as I do."

  Jael held her gaze rigid, meeting his. I do not need a pallisp, she thought . . . not any longer. Nevertheless, she trembled under Mogurn's gaze. "There will be no more mistakes, Jael. No disobedience. No pallisp—until you have removed this ship from danger." Mogurn smiled queerly, triumphantly, and crossed his arms.

  What a pathetic man, Jael thought—however cruel. What weapon did he hold over her now? She still feared him physically, yes, but—"I do not need your pallisp," she said aloud. Her throat constricted. "And now I must—"

  "You stay until I command you to leave!" shouted Mogurn furiously.

  An alarm on the bridge quailed, signaling changes in the Flux. Mogurn started, jerked his head around. "Go!" he said bitterly.

  Jael hurried. If Highwing had left her . . .

  When her senses sparked outward into the net, she found herself astride the dragon, flying in clear winds over low mountains. She trembled with relief. Two suns, pink and orange, were setting before her. The sky overhead was a sea of liquid crystal, and she knew at once that she was bound upward for that sea. Greetings, small one, sighed the dragon, snorting fire.

  Jael hugged his neck, wanting to cry. Highwing, she said softly, did you call me?

  The dragon pumped his wings slowly. I wanted you to return, he said. I don't know if I called you or not.

  I knew it was time to come. Are we—are we almost at the end?

  Of my range, yes, Jael. Dragons do not go beyond these foothills. I am zigzagging to go more slowly, but we are almost at the end. Do you wish me to fly straight?

  No—please no. Oh, Highwing, can't you come further with me? Or can't we go back? Even as she spoke, Jael knew that it was impossible. She had a ship to bring in, and even Mogurn was her responsibility. The currents of the Flux were inexorable; dragons could fly against them, perhaps, but Jael and her ship could not.

  Sometimes friends must part, said the dragon softly.

  And I made you leave, said Jael, half to herself, when all along you were trying to help me. Just as you promised. She was ashamed; tears wet her cheeks. What will I do, Highwing? What will I do now?

  You will find others, said the dragon, and I will still be here, thinking of you.

  Jael trembled and wept, and after a long time her tears dried. How could she dispel the terrible loneliness she felt already closing in upon her? The pallisp came to mind, and she turned it away. The price for that was too high, the comfort too short. No, Highwing's advice was best. However difficult, it was better than settling for the likes of Mogurn and the pallisp. Better than shelled-in emptiness.

  Things will be different. Things will be better, she said, as though to the wind.

  Highwing heard her and answered. It will be different for me, too, little Jael. Never again will I duel a rigger without thinking of you. You, who have my name—and I yours.

  They flew in silence for a few moments. The lowest of the low mountains came into sight. Highwing, Jael said, If I fly this way again, will I see you?

  The dragon breathed fire. I shall be looking for you, little Jael, and so will other dragons. Cry, "Friend of Highwing!" and I will hear you, though all the mountains lie between us.

  Jael trembled with emotion. Then let us fly high, now, and part in the sun, she said, urging him toward the sky.

  The dragon complied at once, soaring high toward the inverted lake of sunset crystal above their heads. Jael leaned with him into the wind, feeling it sting her cheeks and toss her hair, feeling the glowing radiance of the celestial ocean overhead filling her eyes and her soul. The two suns were setting now, but they threw their radiance in fuller color than ever into the sky. Channels opened in the clouds, and light poured through in great rays, washing over the dragon and Jael, and they flew up one of the beams, into the crystal sea, where colors shifted brightly and the currents of the Flux moved in streams and gossamer strands. And here, she knew, Highwing would leave her, for this was not a dragon's realm.

  Highwing shivered, and she thought she heard echoes of weeping, and he blew a great cloud of smoke and sparks and a single brilliant, billowing flame. Jael caressed his neck one last time, and then extended her hands into space and turned them into great webs touching the streamers of light. Farewell, Highwing, she cried softly.

  Farewell, Jael, said the dragon, and he wheeled and suddenly Jael was no longer astride him but in flight on her own, rigger once more. Highwing banked and circled around her, his eyes flashing, and he issued a long, thin stream of smoke in final farewell, and then he banked sharply and plummeted.

  Jael looked after him, holding her tears, as he dwindled toward his own world. Friend of Highwing! she cried after him, and her voice reverberated gently down the sunbeams and perhaps she was only imagining but she thought she heard his laugh echoing in the distance below. And then she set her sights ahead and knew that the tears would flow and dry, for a while, and she looked in the shifting sky for the currents that would carry her to her destination star system, to the end of this voyage, to normal space. And she thought of how she would tell Mogurn that she was leaving his employ, and his pallisp, and she laughed and cried and turned her thoughts back to the sky.

  Until I return, Highwing, she thought, and she saw the streamer she wanted and caught it in her webbed hand, and with her the ship rose high and fast into the current.