Changing the World: All-New Tales of Valdemar

Though he made no attempt to Mindspeak the thought, Carthea apparently received it. She bobbed her wise, white head once before the man holding the rope jerked it still.

At the violence of the movement, anger flared anew. I was so busy chasing fake love, I didn’t see the real thing when it thrust its huge, fuzzy head through my bedroom window. Lubonne turned his attention to Haralt and Honoria, driving all trace of malice from his tone and his features. “How much?”

“What?” The word was clearly startled from Haralt’s mouth.

Honoria had more experience in matters of finance. “You want to buy her from us?”

“Yes.”

Honoria’s smile broadened, and Lubonne wondered why he had never before noticed how dingy her teeth looked, the meanness in her grin. “It would cost you . . . your inheritance.”

“Sold!” Lubonne said, before she could change her mind or think to ask for more. He had no wish nor need to reduce the deal to writing. Honoria had four witnesses to corroborate her claim, and he had no intention of dishonoring his word. He claimed the ropes from each man in turn. Carthea remained utterly still while he unwound each rope, removed the offending bridle, and tossed the makeshift saddle to the ground.

:I’m not going to fall off, am I?:

Carthea turned him a withering look.

Using a deadfall for a step, Lubonne clambered upon his Companion, a Herald trainee astride his heartmate and bound for Collegium. “Tell my parents the money is yours. And that I’ve gone to Valdemar.”

Carthea bounded over a copse of berries in one smooth leap and settled onto the packed earth, forest road. :Home for your things?:

:And spoil this grand exit for a few possessions?: Lubonne made a broad gesture in the general direction of Valdmar. :I have my future and my Heartmate. What more do I need?:

:What more, indeed.: Carthea agreed.

A Storytelling of Crows

by Elisabeth Waters

Elisabeth Waters sold her first short story in 1980 to Marion Zimmer Bradley for

The Keeper’s Price

, the first of the Darkover anthologies. She continues to sell short stories to a variety of anthologies and magazines. Her first novel, a fantasy called

Changing Fate,

was awarded the 1989 Gryphon Award. She is now working on a sequel to it, in addition to short story writing and editing the annual

Sword & Sorceress

anthology. She has also worked as a supernumerary with the San Francisco Opera, where she appeared in

La Gioconda, Manon Lescaut, Madama Butterfly, Khovanschina, Das Rheingold, Werther

, and

Idomeneo

.

The horse wasn’t the first animal to come to Maia calling for help, but it was the first one with a human on its back. Not that Maia noticed the human at first. She sat in a clearing in the Forest of Sorrows, avoiding her older brother. She was listening to the chatter of the crows while working on the fletching of the arrows that she made and her brother sold to support them. Then the voices of the crows changed, warning her of strangers in the forest. This was followed by the sound of something large stumbling through the trees and then the sight of a white horse with an arrow protruding from a hind leg and a pile of arrow-studded red and white rags on his back.

:Help my Chosen!: His voice was very clear in Maia’s head; he spoke as if he expected a human to hear and understand him.

Maia been able to hear—and converse with—animals as long as she could remember, but this mental voice wasn’t like that of any animal she had encountered before. It sounded more like a human, which made her wary. Shortly after the death of her parents three years ago, the people of their village suddenly and inexplicably didn’t like her any more—and her brother had never liked her. Now she avoided people whenever possible. Living at the edge of Sorrows helped; she could retreat into the forest and be left alone.

Still, whatever this was, he was in distress, so she dropped the arrows and moved to his side.

“Help your chosen what?” she asked him.

:My Herald. Her name is Samina. I am Clyton.: