One last morning walk through her woods, and then Brianwen would be off for a place that, reputedly, had nothing of nature in it anywhere, being a city suspended in space, made of metal and magic, and which held mechanical pets and something called the Abstract Destiny. She felt like she had to store up all those memories of scents, sights, and sounds of her forest, enough to last her for however long she was gone. The first snow of winter was in the air, but not quite falling yet. It would be good to get away; she just wished it was to somewhere a little less artificial!

Well, artificial or not, it would be exciting. For now, though, she was content to gather the sensations of her woods around her, walking in full caribou form. Shaggy fur protected her from the chill, and her two-month-old flitter, Westling, clung to her antlers. He was the pretty green creature who had hatched from Tavarez's gift-egg, and already he had decided to be firmly attached. Even when she walked alone in the woods, he somehow found his way to her. Most of the time, she didn't mind. At the moment, though, she had wanted to be alone, but she didn't have the heart to shake him off and send him away.

It had been a few hours since dawn, when Gloriette had woken her and the rest of the house up with her carolling, and shortly after Brianwen had gone out for her last walk in the woods. It was probably time to head back. Marquis would be waiting, ready to carry her, along with a few of her friends who refused to be left behind or who couldn't live with just the care the villagers would be willing to give, to Star City station.

Just as she started to turn back towards home, Brianwen paused. Westling, perched on her antler, chirped quizically as she scented the wind: a chill, winter wind that suddenly sprang up and ruffled through her thick coat. There was something that smelled wrong about it, and as she stopped, ears twitching this way and that, she realized she could sense it with more than her five natural senses.

It was then she remembered, suddenly, that she'd felt this wind before, this wind that felt like it had thoughts, feelings, a mind, attached to the winter cold it brought. Before Westling, before Tavarez's last visit, before the plan to leave for at least part of the winter, she'd felt it. It had been watching her then-- somehow, she didn't know how, but she did know she was right-- and it was watching her, now.

And as it did then, it also did now: it frightened her, and she fled from it. Westling, startled, clutched at her antler, but thankfully did not fall off.

This time, as the edge of the woods came into sight and she slowed, Brianwen was not only certain she hadn't imagined the wind and its strange consistency of thought and mind-- it was twice, now, that she'd felt it, and she was not that imaginative-- but she was also disgusted with herself for running, twice now. If she'd had any sense at all, she'd have stayed, tried to track the wind to its source, tried to communicate with whoever was watching her, and perhaps find out why. It could have been as simple as a curious or even mischievous Ave, sending a breeze to follow her around and frighten her, whether intentionally or not.

Something told her, however, that it probably wasn't that simple.

Besides, she thought, she had reservations with a hotel at Star City: she didn't have time right now to go chasing a breeze. Marquis was waiting, decked out with his saddle so she would be sure to stay on when he took off, in front of her cottage, surrounded by what looked like half the forest. Shifting back into human form, she laughed at them all. "I'm not goign to be gone that long," she told all the animals, native and non-native alike, but she obliged when they all wanted to nuzzle up to her in farewell.

At last, she gave in to Marquis's impatient stamping and tail-lashing and shooed them all away. Westling, Gloriette, Caycu, an unnamed and mostly-wild ferret, and a raccoon she affectionately called Bandit all flew around, clambered at, and clung to her, swarming up onto Marquis with her when she hefted herself into the saddle. "Look after them," she told the dralisk Ranier, who clucked at her in answer, which was close enough to a "yes" for her.

It was good enough for Marquis, too, for the dodrian broke into a bone-jarring trot, spreading his wings, and started speeding up. There was just enough room between the cottage and the village for him to build up enough speed for takeoff. When he launched himself into the air and started frantically pumping his wings against the impressive weight of Brianwen herself, her meagre belongings, and those of her friends who couldn't fly and teleport themselves, he actually struggled into the air above the nearest house rather than dropping again and making a hole in someone's carefully laid thatch. Just barely enough room: his feet nearly grazed the little house's roof.

A few wing-beats later, Marquis teleported: the less flying he had to do with such a heavy load, Brianwen sensed, the happier he'd be. She agreed, and though she was sorry to make him fight the air, she was certainly grateful for the ride! Otherwise, she'd have had to hunt down an actual, full-sized dragon to carry her.

The village, forest, and clean air all vanished, replaced by whatever was at the coordinates Tavarez had given Marquis before he disappeared-- which turned out to be massive and echoingly empty. Marquis cast about briefly before angling laborously for the nearest landing point. Glorietta, the only one of the group capable of flying and teleporting herself, appeared behind them with a little squeak of surprise before darting after them.

Brianwen used the few minutes it took to get to the landing platform-- a hemispheral protrusion from a rounded, glass-covered walkway that seemed to encircle the whole room, and even then it was one of several walkways-- to look around. The room they were in, which Tavarez had called the "Flight Deck", was unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was huge, larger than the village-- larger than ten villages-- and bounded by round, dark walls. Huge columns, wider around than the largest building back home, rose from top to bottom, blinking with lights. Far below, on raised, level platforms against the curved walls, lowed strange-looking, four-footed animals, kept in some sort of pen. Beyond that was what looked like a maze, only it was large enough for a whole herd to get lost in.

Then Marquis landed, heavily and right back into his jarring trot. By the time he managed to trot off enough of his momentum to stop, he and his passengers were well inside the transparent tunnel. Brianwen slid off as soon as she could, taking all her pets with her. The dodrian shook himself vigorously, cast one golden eye on her, turned his ears back. She read his question easily enough, and answered, "Well, we're closer to the Abstract Destiny, yes, but I think we'll go to the... what was it? The Au-to-ma-ton Emporium first. That one, at least I know something about! --After we check in at the hotel, if we can find it...."

Marquis looked mildly annoyed, but made no comment, emotional or otherwise. Still, he followed quietly enough as Brianwen started down the clear-walled hall, in search of the little doors Tavarez had called "lifts".

Brianwen's Story

Chapter Three

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