Mercedes Lackey - Anthology by Flights of Fantasy Page B

design.
Faster and faster the elements of their being mingled and solidified into one
mass, until the jesses hung empty and the man's
clothes collapsed with a small sound like a sigh.
                 When the shape that hung over the design was complete, the
sorceress called out again and silence fell so sharply it stung like a slap.
                 Adelia
fell to her hands and knees, drooling with exhaustion and nausea. She fell onto
her side, panting, and stared up at what she'd created.
                 The
man who stood over her had hair of a curious gray-blue shade, and proud,
imperious features. His chest was broad and muscular as were his arms. His
legs, though, were thin and his feet curiously bony. But the eyes were Nairn's.
                 We
can do something to build up his legs, Adelia thought. I am pleased.
                 "There
are clothes for you, there," she croaked, gesturing at a table in the
corner.
                 The
man looked down at her, then went to the table and began to dress.
                 She'd
chosen black for him, trimmed in blue. It went very well with his odd hair
color.
                 He
picked up the sword, drew it partway from its sheath, and smiled at the quality
of the blade. Then he wrapped the swordbelt around his slim hips as he walked
back to where she lay.
                 With
difficulty Adelia hoisted herself onto one elbow and reached up to him.
                 "Help
me up," she commanded.
                 "I
think not," he said, his voice a sharp tenor. "There is no relsk
stone on me to bind me, nor am I blindfolded." He smiled down at her,
flashing white teeth. "And you are far too weak to command me,
sorceress."
                 Adelia
blinked.
                 "As
Nairn, I would have done anything you asked to stay as I was. I'd have done
twice that for my freedom. As a hawk, all I knew was that I wanted to fly free.
And you would have taken that hope from both of us. You meant to meld us into
one earthbound creature tied to your will. Didn't you, sorceress?"
                 She
dropped onto her back and licked dry lips.
                 "You
are bound to me," she said.
                 He
smiled again.
                 "No,
I am not." He looked down at her, examining her with cold but interested
eyes. "I am my own. More than I have ever been."
                 He
drew his sword and stroked the flat of it over her cheek.
                 "What
you have made of me, sorceress, is a better predator than I have ever been. The
hawk in me thanks you for that. And the man in me," he drew the sword down
her neck and across her breast to her heart, "he sees great possibilities.
The man in me knows that he doesn't need to fear the sorceress; your powers are
spent.
                 The
hawk in me knows that I need not fear the stranger; you lie there panting like
a rabbit broken in the hunt.''
                 He
grinned, most joyfully, and pressed the point of his sword onto its target.
                 "Good-bye,
Adelia."
                
     
     

A GATHERING OF BONES
     
     
           by Ron Collins
     
                 Ron
Collins' short fiction has appeared in several magazines and anthologies,
including Dragon, Return of the Dinosaurs, Mob Magic, and Writers of the
Future. He lives in Columbus , Indiana .
     
                 I
HAD fallen asleep last night without making a fire, and the stone walls now
stood with cold permanence in the overcast morning light. The sound of the ocean
echoed inside the hollow of my room. Odors of salt and seaweed hung in the air
like new ghosts. Damp fog thickened the sky outside my arched window, and waves
rolled in the distance, steel-colored swells capped with streaks of white foam
that broke relentlessly against the rocky