The Halcyon in Flight

A man waded through the marsh of Felind, imagining the picture he must make for whatever he sensed examining him. Brackish green water, stirred by his footsteps, lapped sluggishly at the shores of miniscule islands. The adventurer’s clothing—and he was an adventurer—was well-made and certainly suitable for most travel, but no match for the damp swamp air. Wet strands hung from fraying cuffs, pant legs tore in the grip of water plants, and everything was caked with mud. He carried a lantern, but there was little to be seen by its light.

The watching thing was still out there. It moved more quietly than he, but he had heard it following him, had seen flashes of yellow eyes in the dusk. It hadn’t attacked him when his fire went out two nights ago, so maybe it wasn’t after meat. But what then? If only he had some idea what it wanted—

The only way to find out is to ask.

Was that his genius speaking again? The Immortal Empress Aurmid-Nash declared it heresy for anyone in the Kahnnish empire to believe in the mind-spirits, since they were a fondly held doctrine of the rebel Bashtas, but on his travels he had seen and heard things that...well, they rendered it more than a vague belief, at any rate. Like this voice, which had emerged in a quite gradual, friendly way after an episode in the Ameran islands. It wasn’t his, and its ideas—he was humble enough to admit it—were often much, much better than his own.

Though every once in a while they were fatally stupid.

He couldn’t be absolutely sure of that, of course—ignoring the advice, he had never discovered if it would truly be deadly. But at the time it seemed likely. An immaterial spirit sometimes forgot the limits of vulnerable flesh. And as an adventurer, he traveled armed, but not well enough armed for that.

You’re an excellent warrior. There’s nothing to fear, if it comes to that.

The voice did speak sense, however (he would admit it shared with him an omnivorous curiosity). And he liked the word warrior. Casting about with his lantern, the adventurer spotted a low hummock rising from the waters. He waded to it, climbed up, and drew his knife with his free hand. Show yourself!

At first, all he heard was his genius’s exasperated, IF it comes to that! I said IF...

Then, out of the dark came, "I don’t