She heard Caryl whispering to himself; the only words she caught were, Bearer of Burdens and Blessed Valentine . . . and she knew the child was praying. She caught him tight against her, burying her face against his caped shoulder, closing her eyes. Was this true goodness, or a mad presumption, to think that somehow their minds could reach the mind of a banshee – if the banshees have any mind, she thought, and again forced the rising hysteria down. No one knew she was a girl, she could not cry and scream with terror! She thought, grimly, that both Orain and Dom Carlo looked frightened too; where they were afraid, she had no need to feel shame for her fear!
She shut her eyes again and tried to form a prayer, but could not remember any. Bearer of Burdens, you know what I want to pray, and now I have to try and do what I can to save us all, she said in a half-voiced whisper, then sighed and said, “We will try, Caryl. Come, link with me-”
Her mind reached out, just aware enough of her body to keep it upright in the saddle, moving with the horse’s uneasy step. Reached out – she was aware of the horses, shuddering inwardly yet moving on, step by slow step, out of loyalty to their riders; of the sentry-birds, frightened at the noise, but calm because she and Caryl, whose mental voices they trusted, had bidden them be calm. She reached farther, felt something cold and terrifying, felt again the shrilling scream, shuddering through all creation, but, her hands clasped tightly in Caryl’s, she stayed with it, moved into the alien mind.
At first she was conscious only of tremendous pressures, a hunger so fierce that it cramped her belly, a restless cold driving toward warmth, that seemed like light and home and satisfaction, the touch of warmth driving inward and flooding her whole body with a hunger almost sexual, and she knew, with a tiny fragment that was still Romilly, that she had reached the mind of the banshee. Poor hungry, cold thing, . . it is only seeking warmth and food, like the whole of Creation. . . . Her eyes blotted out, she could not see, only feel, she was the banshee and for a moment she fought a raging battle, her whole mind alive with the need to fling herself upon the warmth, to rend and tear and feel the exquisitely delicious feel of warm blood bursting … she felt her own hands tighten on Caryl’s warmth, and then with a leftover part of herself she knew she was human, a woman, with a child to protect, and others dependent on her skill.
Linked tightly to Caryl, she felt his soothing mental touch, like a soft murmur, Brother banshee, you are one with all life and one with me. The Gods created you to rend and tear at your prey, I praise and love you as the Gods made you, but there are beasts in this wilderness who know not fear because the Gods have given them no consciousness. Search for your prey among them, my little brothers, and let me pass. . . . In the name of the blessed Valentine, I bid you, bear your own burdens and seek not to end my life before the time appointed. Blessed is he who preys and blessed is he who gives life to another….
I mean you no harm, Romilly added her quiet mental appeal to the child’s, seek elsewhere for your food.
And for a moment, in the great flooding awareness that she, and the horse she rode, and the child’s soft body in her arms, and the banshee’s wild hunger and seeking for warmth, were all one, a transcendent wave of joy spread through her; the red streaks of the rising sun filled her with heat and wonderful flooding happiness, Caryl’s warmth against her breast was an overflow of tenderness and love, and for a dangerous moment she thought, even if the banshee takes me for its prey, I shall be even more one with its wonderful life-force. But I too want to live and rejoice in the sunlight. She had never known such happiness. She knew that there were tears on his face, but it did not matter, she was part of everything that lived and had breath, part of the sun and the rocks, even the cold of the glacier was somehow wonderful because it heightened her awareness of the heat of the rising sun.