"Mind-touch her, Lady Ardis-or have Lord Arran do so." Talaysen replied steadily. "Trust your own senses."
The man in red approached slowly, his hand held out as if to a shy animal. Gwyna needed no such reassurance. She ran limpingly to the young man's feet, chirping and squawking. She strove with all her might to project her human thoughts into the hireling's mind, spreading out the whole story as best she could.
Arran patted her feathers into smoothness, and from his touch came reassurance and comfort. More, words formed in Gwyna's mind, words as clear as speech.
Fear not, little singer; there is no doubt in my heart that you are wholly human.
The young man rose gracefully to his feet and faced the two mages. "This one is bespelled indeed; she is the Free Bard Gwyna-more than that, the evil being that has so enslaved her is that one"-he pointed an accusing finger at Revaner-"he who claims her as his property and pet. His accomplice in this evil was the Guild Bard Bestif."
At that, the Priest paled, and tried to flee, only to be held by the guards he had brought with him. At the same time, Gwyna felt the Lady-Priest's hand on her head, and some instinct told her to remain utterly still. She saw Talaysen take Rune's hand, his face harden with anxiety. Daran clutched his bony hands together, biting his lip.
"We shall need your help," the Lady-Priest said to Talaysen and Rune. "I think you have some small acquaintance with magic yourselves. And you know her."
She saw Rune start with surprise, saw Talaysen nod-
Then all was confusion. The courtyard spun around in front of Gwyna's eyes, moving faster and faster until it was nothing but a blur of light and shadow. The courtyard vanished altogether. Then light blazed up, nearly blinding her, and a dark something separated from her own substance, pulling away from her with a reluctant shudder. She could feel it wanting to stay, clinging with an avid hunger, but the light drove it forth despite its will. Suddenly she was overcome with an appalling pain, and crumbled beneath the onslaught of it. Her flesh felt as if it were melting, twisting, reshaping, and it hurt so much she cried out in sheer misery-
A cry that began as a bird's call, and ended as the anguished sob of a human in mortal agony.
The pain cut off abruptly; Gwyna blinked, finding herself slumped on the stone of the courtyard, her skirts in a puddle of red, gold, and scarlet about her, her dark hair falling into her eyes, and three gold coins on the stone before her.
She stared at one hand, then at the other-then at the faces of the three who stood above her; the Lady-Priest, Talaysen and Rune. Their brown, green, and hazel eyes mirrored her own relief and joy-
From the other side of the courtyard came an uncanny shriek-something like a raven's cry, something like the scream of a hawk. All four turned as one to see what had made the sound.
Crouching where the dark Priest had stood, was an ugly, evil-looking bird, like none Gwyna had ever seen before. Its plumage was a filthy black, its head and crooked neck naked red skin, like a vulture. It had a twisted yellow beak and small, black eyes. It stood nearly waist-high to the two guards beside it. As they watched, it made a swipe at one of them with that sharp beak, but the man was not nearly so ale-sotted as he seemed, and caught the thing by the neck just behind the head.
"Evil spells broken often return upon their caster," said young Arran, soberly. "As this one has. Balance is restored. Let him be exhibited at the gate as a warning to those who would pollute the Holy Church with unclean magic; but tend him carefully and gently. It may be that one day God will warm to forgiveness if he learns to repent. As for the Guild Bard Bestif, let him be fined twelve gold pieces and banned forever from the Faire. Let one half of that fine be given to the minstrels he wronged, and one half to those in need. That would be my judgment."
"So be it, so let it be done," said the older man, silent until now.
They made as if to leave; Gwyna scrambled to her feet, holding out one of the three gold coins. "My lords-lady-this for my thanks, an' you will?"
The older Priest took it gravely. "We are true Priests of the Church; we do not accept pay for the performance of our duty-but if you wish this to be given to the offerings for the poor?"
Gwyna nodded; he accepted the coin and the three vanished into the depths of the cathedral.
Gwyna took the others and tossed them to Talaysen, who caught them handily.
"For celebration?" he asked, holding it up. "Shall we feast tonight?"
"Have I not cause to celebrate? Only one thing-"
"Name it, Gypsy Robin."
"If you love me, Master Wren-buy nothing that once wore feathers!"
Rune shooed Talaysen away, so that she could apportion their belongings into packs. "This is apprentice-work," she told him sternly. "You go do what a Master does." Grinning, he left her to it.