Nafon laid his long golden form out on the rock. He brushed the long, white hair back out of his crystal eyes. Somewhere below in that thicket of wood was his prey. The large cat, the nanthol, had made her lair back in a cave inside of the wood. He could feel Desiage's excitement at the promise of a kill. The winged snake hovered nearby, out of sight. Nafon narrowed his unusual eyes and thought of meat. He pictured a fat runner grazing in the meadow below. He was very patient. He built the picture slowly and realistically until he could almost see the fat runner below himself, sleek and golden in the warm sun.
After nearly an hour, he was rewarded by the gentle stirring of the lower branches of the trees. The nanthol usually hunted at night. But she was perfectly capable of attacking during the day. A runner such as the one that Nafon had implanted in the cat's brain, would be irresistible to the giant cat.
Nafon drew his short bow and got into position. Desiage's wings stirred the air behind him. The soft breeze felt good against his skin. He had never been able to understand how Ott could insist that Zia was always cold. In the summer, Nafon spent as much time as he could swimming in the cool waters of the sea. On Desiage's strong back, it was only an hour away from Zia. He longed to be there now as sweat trickled down his brow.
The yellow death on four legs moved into her attack below him and rushed out into an empty field. She sounded her rage at being cheated of her meal. Nafon released a single shaft and the big cat went down. Death had come silently and swiftly. Nafon had joined her mind to be sure that there was no pain. Desiage hissed loudly and circled down idly to sniff at the cat. Nafon followed more slowly, climbing down the rocks with experienced ease.
He dropped to the ground and walked over to the long yellow body. In death the cat was a beautiful thing. If he hadn't seen her carry off a small child from the village two nights ago, Nafon would have hated to have killed her. But once the nanthol had eaten human flesh, they always returned. No child in the village would have been safe as long as the giant cat lived.
Desiage landed gently near him and bumped him with his nose. Nafon scratched the snake's scaled head. The sun was hot, and he felt too lazy to hunt anymore today. Desiage sighed with contentment. He pictured the cool sea to Nafon's peaceful mind. Times like this were perfect as near as Nafon knew of perfection. Just he and Desiage, all alone in the wild.
In the village, he had never fitted in. He wasn't hated exactly, just ignored like a social embarrassment. He had learned early on that had his mother lived, the people would have stoned her. Luckily, she had conveniently died and saved them all a lot of trouble. But to a community where every child was a blessing, Nafon himself had never been touched. The fault had been the mother's not the child's, yet the people didn't feel comfortable around wizard blood, so Nafon was more or less an exile in his own home.
Ott had raised him as best he could, but the wizard was old and he didn't care for childish questions. Soon Nafon figured out that he wasn't exactly welcomed by the wizard either. So he had gotten to exploring the wood nearby. That was where he had come upon Desiage after one severe storm. He had looked into the alien reptile eyes and suddenly felt like he belonged for the first time in his life.
Ott had been horrified. He had told Nafon to send his pet back into the wilds. Nafon had tried to explain that Desiage was much more than a pet, but the old man would have none of it. Finally Desiage had ended the argument by nipping Ott in the rear, an indignity that the old man had never forgiven. They had never spoken of Desiage again.
With Desiage's strong wings, Nafon had been able to range further and further than his little village. He had become more and more remote. He was so self-sufficient that Ott was almost able to forget him for days at a time. Then he and his winged snake had begun to add food to the village's slim stores one bleak winter and Nafon had found himself the town's greatest hunter. He didn't mind helping the village out, but he had no need of, nor desire for, their gratitude. Since the villagers felt uncomfortable with being grateful to the half-breed, they soon fell into ignoring him again and both were content.
He had heard the women in the village call him a wizard and a savage. He had heard Ott call him a mortal and a fool. Only when he was with Desiage did he feel like Nafon, neither man nor magician, neither a savage or a fool. With Desiage he could be just a boy, taller than most villagers and darker than most wizards. Desiage nudged him again and sent a picture of cool water into his mind.
"Okay, Des! Let's go swimming!" Nafon laughed. Once Desiage had something in his head, it was impossible to get it out. First, he used his knife to clean the cat. He wrapped the meat in a wizard's bag that kept everything cold. Then he used the wizard's powder that instantly dried the hide so that it couldn't spoil. He wrapped the fur around the wizard's bag and tied the bundle on Desiage's back. Then he mounted the winged snake himself.
Desiage leaped gracefully into the air and soon they were soaring west. Miles and miles of forested hills and valleys passed beneath them in a blur of blue green. Nafon closed his eyes and enjoyed the fresh wind in his face. Life was good. He had everything that any man could ever need. He opened his eyes and looked off into the distance to see if he could spot the deep blue of the ocean yet.
There was a line beyond the trees but to the north not the west and it looked brown, not blue.
"What is it?" Nafon asked the snake whose senses were so much sharper than his human ones.
The snake flashed the picture of a bleak desert into his mind. Nafon jerked his head up as if by stretching his neck, he could see further.
"But there's no desert to the north. The forest grows until the mining town of Segat near the mountains." Nafon said, confused. How could there be desert here?
The big snake caught his master's concern and forgot about heading west toward the water. Instead he flew due north into what his senses told him was barren desert.
Soon they were over the golden sand that blew hot and dry beneath them. Nafon had the big snake circle then circle again. One minute there was forest, and the next, desert. He asked Desiage to land. The big snaked settled down on the edge of the forest as if he didn't trust the desert side. Nafon dismounted and walked to the very edge of the green growth. Sand lay before him as far as the eye could see.
Nafon sniffed the air and pulled back, choking. The air hear was foul and unclean. He was sure that whatever had caused this barren spot, it was not natural. All life was being literally sucked out. He had to tell Ott.
He cleared his mind and slowly built a picture of the old wizard in his mind. First the weak gray eyes, then the long flowing beard. The old man's face swam into view as he looked up in surprise from his bath. Then slowly, Nafon built a picture of the desert in Ott's mind. There was a blank space that Nafon had learned was Ott when he communicated with the wizard's council. Then Ott sent him a single urgent reply, "Home!"
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