Free The River's Gift by Mercedes Lackey Page B

thought she saw her own bones
shining through the skin, and yet there was no pain—only the fire filling her,
spreading through her veins, along her nerves, penetrating every part of her.
    The
weight of veil and golden band dropped from her head, and she stretched her
chin upward—craned her neck up—
    —and
up, and up—
    Her
arms pulled in at her sides and grew shorter; her fingers stretched out longer
and longer, fanning wide as they lengthened, skin weaving a web between them.
The gown vanished, the undergown shredded, tore,
became threads of gossamer flowing over her elongated fingers— —became white
feathers, clothing her powerful wings. She was light! Lighter than a thistledown , light enough to—
    :Fly , Wild Swan!: called a voice in her head. :Fly !
Fly for your freedom, fly and follow me !:
    Without
thinking or wondering how, she launched herself into a sky still filled with
showers of sparks and sheets of heatless flame. With powerful beats of her
wings, she drove herself upwards, as beside her a swan as black as the deepest
velvet matched her wingbeat for wingbeat. She was a swan, a huge swan whiter
than snow, flying with strength she did not know she had.
    In
a moment, they were at the height of the towers. In two, they circled high
above the castle roof. In three, they banked together off into the west. The
figures of the wedding party below were as small as the painted people in an
illumination, and one tiny scarlet-clad manikin gestured wildly and impotently
in their direction.
    But
it was too late, for already they were beyond the reach of human or arrow.
Perhaps, if someone had brought a goshawk out and set it after them, perhaps
the powerful predatory bird would have caught one of them—but no one had, and
in the fifth and sixth moments, they were gone, wings whistling in the chill
air, speeding out of the sight of Lord Lyon and Lyon Castle forever.
    The
wild joy Ariella felt at that moment was only eclipsed by her incredulity as
she tried to form her thoughts into words she hoped that her companion would
hear.
    :Merod ?: she gasped,
craning her head around on her long, graceful neck to look at him. He looked
back at her, the mischief she remembered so well sparkling in his green eyes.
    :I wondered how long
it would take you to recognize me.: He chuckled.
    :But —how? How did you
know what happened? How did you find me? Why did you come for me ?:
    :Follow,: was all he said,
and she did, flying until even her powerful wings tired, and he led her down to
land on the chill waters of a remote wilderness lake.
    He
swam straight to the bank without stopping, and she followed in his wake. The
moment their feet touched land, she felt a pang, a shiver ran through her, her
vision blurred, and she found herself standing in shallow water, the remains of
the samite undergown in rags about her.
    The
black-velvet-clad man lifted her by the waist and deposited her on the bank,
wrapping his black cloak about her to shield her from the cold.
    "You're—"
she said, staring up into his green eyes, dumbfounded. "You're—not a
riverhorse."
    He
chuckled. "Three gifts, my love. I was only mortal long enough to venture
into that cold castle and pass your captor's tests. One wish to change, one wish to escape. Now I—we—are swan-folk, less Faerie than
Kelpies, but not exactly children of Adam, either. We are swans upon the water
and in the air, man and woman on the land, thanks to the Great One's
gift."
    "I
thought you said you never had a reason to become a mortal—" was all she
could say.
    "I never had
anyone I cared to share the other wishes with, either—until now," was his
reply, then he bent to kiss her mouth, and she melted into the kiss, and there
was no reason to speak again for a very long time.
    "Where
are we going?" she asked when there was breath and reason to speak.
    "Away,"
Merod replied and laughed. "Anywhere you like, beloved. We have all the world and the wings to take us there."
    "Anywhere
you