In reply, Bitter flapped his wings, still somewhat stiff from the same injuries that had taken his eye, but fully serviceable. Lovable leapt into the sky and soared a wide circle, croaking commentary.
“Hah! Hah! Boat! Sick! Hah!”
Then the two birds were vanishing dark forms, winging for the main island. Arasan and Laria had already moved to right and ready the small sailing craft that had been left to carry them to the main island. Firekeeper, sighing, pulled out her water flask and a small packet of powder.
“I get seasick,” she reluctantly confided. “I have to share if you wish.”
Varelle managed a small smile, but her multi-hued eyes were wide as she inspected their surroundings. “I should be fine. Thank you. Is this the Nexus Islands, then?”
“Is one of,” Firekeeper said, gulping down her brew. She moved to add her strength to carrying the hull down to the edge of the beach. “That is why called ‘islands,’ not island. There”—she pointed— “is the largest island where most of the gates are. This island here has only this one. We wondered why. Now, knowing what you have told us, I think that maybe even in the days when the gates were made, the place that is now Rhinadei must have been not quite a friend with what we call the Old Countries. There was a gate, but not too close.”
Arasan raised his voice so he could be heard over the rattle as he ran up the sails. “Of course, in the days when magic was at its height, travel was much easier. The sorcerers of old were said to know how to fly or at least to have flying creatures to ride. Placing the gate on this smaller island would have meant a delay, but not the sort of difficulties we face. We’re lucky the weather is so fair today. During the winter storm season, we might have been cut off for days, even for such a short voyage, or at least needed to wait for a larger boat.”
He finished doing some arcane thing with lines—sailing was a skill Firekeeper had no interest in learning—and then made a sweeping bow.
“If you two ladies and your lupine knight would care to board, the winds are favorable. We should reach land only a short time behind Bitter and Lovable.”
The medication that Firekeeper relied upon had been refined over time so, although she sat in the bow where the fresh breezes helped keep her head clear, and she did grip Blind Seer’s scruff for an added reassurance that the world was still stable, the wolf-woman could manage to speak. It seemed only polite for her to take on amusing Varelle, since Laria and Arasan were busy sailing the boat.
“There,” Firekeeper said, pointing with her free hand, “are the gates. The original gates, Blind Seer says I should explain, the ones that connect the Old World nations. The gates to the New World are somewhat lower—you cannot see them so well from here. All the gates to the Old World still work, but those to the New, not all of them. One reason we were checking the outlying islands, looking for gates, is the hope that we might find some that would not be broken but go to the New World.”
Laria had the tiller, so Arasan ambled over. “The history of the gates is complicated and we’ve barely had time to look at the records. Suffice to say that not only are there older gates on the main island—ones that predate the complex you can see from here—there are gates on the outer islands as well. The difficulty is that the pre-querinalo sorcerers were a secretive lot, so there isn’t a tidy directory listing every gate—especially the ones that weren’t used for regular commerce.”
By the time they had pointed out a few more of the visible landmarks to Varelle, Laria was bringing the sailboat into the island’s small harbor. Arasan jumped about handling the ropes, as Laria guided the little boat in to its berth.
“I don’t see many watercraft,” Varelle said.
“There aren’t,” Arasan answered. “Most of our provisions come via the gates. We do some fishing but, best as we can tell, one of the reasons these islands were chosen to be the place where the gateway nexus was built was because the archipelago is difficult to reach by sea. Even if larger ships do come here, they need to use landing craft to get to shore.”
He laughed lightly. “And since there are rumors that the waters are populated by sea monsters, well, there isn’t a great deal of incentive to go sailing on them.”
Varelle looked as if she was only half-listening. Firekeeper didn’t blame her for being distracted. For centuries, Varelle’s people had isolated themselves from all contact with any but their own chosen community. Now she was about to meet those she had to think of less than kindly since, even after querinalo had given them a chance to break with the tradition, they had resumed the use of blood magic as soon as they were able.
“Don’t worry,” Firekeeper said, laying a protective hand on Varelle’s arm. “You are safe here and will see your home again, of that Blind Seer and I promise you.”
She permitted herself a grin but didn’t translate when Blind Seer added, “Of course we will take her back. My goal—my future teacher—is there in Rhinadei.”
They had only been gone how long? Laria tapped her fingertips against the sailboat’s tiller to count off… Five days? They had arrived in Rhinadei’s night. Varelle had arrived that morning. Then there had been the days they had waited while Varelle conferred with her associates. The challenge had begun with the dawn—although figuring out how much time had passed in the unreal space was difficult. Still, from things people had said, she gathered this had taken about two days. There had been daylight when they finished their arduous journey through the river gorge and reached the valley of the Giant’s Last Stand. They had conferred with what was probably some sort of emergency committee, then stayed the night before traveling back to the gateway building. Five days then, only.
Yet Laria was no stranger to how a person could change within moments. She had knelt down as one person, risen as another after her father had died in her arms. Yet when she saw that her mother and younger sister and brother were among those waiting on the shore to greet the boat her heart leapt with a genuine joy she’d denied herself for so long. For the first time in too long she could see them as themselves, without being swamped with sorrow that Ollaris was not standing where he should be to one side of her mother, protectively backing his brood.
I have been so focused on what I lost that I lost sight of what I still have, Laria thought, waving vigorously. Then she eased the little craft in so that the hull touched the dock with hardly a bump.
Varelle met the ruling council of the Nexus Islands—and a representative portion of its population—outside, for this was one of those spring days that humans dream about when winter is at its worst. The Nexus Islands were—at least according to those who had lived much of their lives elsewhere—situated where the weather was harsh and inclined to cold. Today, one would never have guessed it. The sun shone bright and the breezes were fresh and stimulating.
As if the islands themselves are welcoming us home, Laria thought, then—thinking of what they had been told about Rhinadei—wondered if that was as fanciful an idea as it seemed.
The gathering was held in a public park set among some of the larger structures on the islands. Once both park and buildings had been reserved for the use of the Once Dead, but now the buildings had been converted into a combination of administrative uses and apartments. Laria’s family occupied a spacious suite on the third floor of a five-story edifice, where each child had his or her own room, as did their mother. There was a common room as well, but no kitchen. To preserve resources, cooking was still done at a central kitchen. Even those who, like Derian Counselor or Ynamynet the Once Dead or Plik of the maimalodalum, resided in their own cottages, came to eat with the rest.
Even with the admission of carefully chosen immigrants, the Nexus Islands were still very short of what once might have been called “human resources” or “hands.” In a community that numbered many yarimaimalom among its residents, the Nexans were still searching for an acceptable term. Since every adult was needed, childcare was shared as well, combined with school. It had come to seem perfectly normal t
hat a she-fox or wildcat might tend human toddlers as well as her own kits, freed from the need to hunt by human allies.
Although Laria had been asked to make herself available so she could answer questions if needed, she did not sit with the rest behind one of the long tables that had been set up on a raised platform that dominated one end of the park. Instead, she brought her family close to the front of the group and sat with them. Firekeeper, for once, had not flopped on the ground next to Blind Seer. Instead, the two of them sat on a bench next to Arasan, upon whose shoulder Farborn perched. Varelle sat on Arasan’s other side.
Behind another table sat Derian Counselor, Ynamynet of the Once Dead, Urgana the librarian, and Wort, who served as the Nexus Islands quartermaster and, as a result, had become very involved in matters of trade and supply. Any of the adults who could spare the time were attending this open meeting, as were any number of the yarimaimalom. Laria didn’t doubt that the sailboat had barely left the island that housed the gate to Rhinadei before the word had spread of their return, and of the exotic woman who accompanied them.
Varelle made no attempt to hide her interest or astonishment as she studied the gathered Nexans. Laria liked the Gatewatcher even better for that. If Varelle’s gaze lingered a bit longer than was polite on Derian Counselor and the jaguar Truth, both of whom were visibly marked by their battles with querinalo, well, she was not the first, nor would she be the last. Truth seemed to glory in the attention paid to her showy burned-charcoal coat with its spots that looked like living flames, returning Varelle’s gaze with an equally fixed stare from eyes where the formerly golden iris had been replaced with hot white, with the pupil slitted blue.
At least Derian had gotten over his shyness regarding his own changed appearance. He had once been a handsome young man with red hair and hazel-green eyes. Now, while he was still human in build, his still-red hair grew like a horse’s mane, complete with forelock, and his eyes were the brown of a horse with very little white showing. His ears were still set to the sides of his head, but they most definitely resembled those of a horse—including their mobility. Rumor was that sometime this spring or early summer, he would finally return for a visit to Hawk Haven, the land of his birth, but since the war that had won the Nexans control of the gates had ended the previous summer, he had not been able to make the journey before there would have been the risk of him being unable to return before winter shut the ports.
And although he came into his role almost by accident, Derian has definitely accepted that he and Ynamynet are the leaders of the Nexus Islands. And, really, he’s the one we’d find it harder to do without, since he handles all the daily administration, while Ynamynet devotes herself mostly to questions of magic.
After general introductions, Arasan provided a quick summary of what they had encountered on the other side of the gate, ending:
“So, unlike our other exploratory ventures, this time we did not merely find a land cut off from contact with the larger world as a result of the spread of querinalo, we found a community that had cut itself off long before.”
Derian twitched his ears as a horse might when reacting to an interesting sound. “Do any of the rest of you have anything to add?”
Firekeeper and Blind Seer both shook their heads, then Firekeeper added, “Not quite now.”
Laria said, “Not me.” Farborn fluttered his wings then folded them, apparently indicating his own satisfaction with Arasan’s account.
Derian went on, “Whenever we encounter a community that has been isolated because of a non-functioning gate, we ask the same question. ‘Do you want to continue being connected in this fashion, or would you prefer to remain in isolation?’ Varelle, we realize that you’re one person and certainly are not in a position to speak for an entire nation. What I—we—want you to understand is that we’re not going to force you to change your ways.”
Wort the quartermaster chuckled dryly. “Arasan said he told you something of our recent history, so you know that we have all too fresh memories of other people trying to push us to do things their way for us to want to do that to anyone else.”
“This doesn’t mean you’re not welcome,” Derian added. “We’ll let you set up rules on your side—as long as you understand that we have rules for our side. Ynamynet, I believe you have something to add?”
Ynamynet was, as usual, bundled in far warmer attire than seemed necessary given the warmth of the day. She wore a close-fitting fur-edged cap over her hair, and her robes were those of a spellcaster, heavily embroidered with arcane symbols.
She smiled thinly and inclined her head to Derian before giving Varelle her full attention. “Please understand, before we’d be prepared to set up commerce with you, I would need assurances that you would not attempt to interfere with the manner in which we work magic. Arasan has quite eloquently explained the position your ancestors chose and which you of Rhinadei have, to all appearances, maintained for centuries. He even made it seem very appealing. However, we are in no position to change our ways—even if we wished to do so. Nor can we encourage you to be the means of creating dissension between newly reconnected communities that are trying—often against their own inclinations—to work with each other, rather than seeking domination.”
Varelle gracefully inclined her head in acknowledgement. “I can understand your point of view. Someday, you might want to consider means of magic that do not rely on seizing power from others. Perhaps then Rhinadei might have something to offer you.”
Ynamynet’s expression gave nothing away as she replied, “Perhaps.”
Varelle then addressed the general community. “Derian Counselor is correct when he says that I am in no position to speak for all of Rhinadei. Even now, other members of the advisory group that met with your exploratory expedition are traveling, speaking to various communities, soliciting their opinions. However, Blind Seer and Firekeeper came to Rhinadei in hopes of finding those who could teach him spellcasting that did not involve the use of blood magic. We agreed that he has won the right to seek such a teacher. Therefore, Blind Seer and any of the others in his original group will be permitted to return to Rhinadei.”
“And to leave again?” Derian asked sharply, his ears momentarily pinning flat.
“And to leave again,” Varelle assured him. “If they chose to remain, then they would be free to inform you so themselves. If they do not survive their journey—as is always possible, for Rhinadei is not a safe land, even now—we will do our best to provide you with not only the news but with evidence.”
Varelle’s statement stirred up a general murmur. Laria noticed that no one at the head table tried to stop the chatter, perhaps welcoming a few minutes to think. After all, they themselves had had very little warning of what the explorers had brought back with them. However, when Zebel, the doctor, and one of the most respected members of the community, stood, hands behind his back, awaiting acknowledgement, he was immediately recognized.
“May anyone else accompany them? I am concerned because, although all of them have some training in field medicine, they do not have a healer in their company.”
Varelle’s brow furrowed in concern. “We did not intend to permit anyone else to cross into Rhinadei. As Arasan indicated in his account, these five have been tested and won our approval. Still, you raise a good point. They will be going into largely uninhabited mountains. Therefore, we will provide them with some additional medical resources. We have made a great study of medicine, both magical and otherwise.”
Zebel looked interested. “If commerce is established between us, I would enjoy talking to some of your people. Now, I must excuse myself. A new shipment came in from the Mires, and we are very busy in the pharmacy.”
There were other questions, including several about Rhinadei’s magics from the librarian, Urgana, who ended up asking Varelle to stop by the archives if she had time because, “You might be able to provide a different perspective on some materials that continue to puzzle us greatly.”
>
That the meeting did not last overlong probably told Varelle as much as anything.
We’re used to new people, new places, Laria thought proudly. Sure, her coming here is a twist, but it’s nothing new.
As the crowd was breaking up, heading back to neglected duties with something fresh to think about, Laria’s mother, Ikitata—who had taken over her husband’s cobbling and leatherworking—snagged Laria’s sleeve.
“Will you be going back with them?”
Laria hesitated, trying to read what answer her mother wanted. Then she decided to answer honestly. “I was planning to. I was able to help—for the first time I saw how useful my talent could be, especially in strange lands.”
Ikitata’s lips shaped a wan smile. “I’m glad—not because I want you to go away from us, don’t ever think that—but because, honorable as she may be, I wouldn’t want Firekeeper to be our only human ambassador.”
Laria was puzzled. “But there’s Arasan.”
“That one! He’s human in shape, true enough, but with that mixing of minds and magic, I’m not certain I’d call him any more human than I would Firekeeper. She, at least, is honest about admitting that she doesn’t consider herself human. The Meddler hides within Arasan, smiling with that butter-won’t-melt-in-his-mouth expression. Maybe I listened to too many of Urgana’s tales this winter, but he’s more than he’s pretending. Of that I’m sure.”
“You didn’t mind him being my teacher.”
“No, not here, not where we could keep an eye on him, but there in a land soaked in old wars and older hates, with Firekeeper thinking first of her partner and his needs, I’m just as glad you’ll be there to think about those of us here and keep him remembering, too.”
From the start, their plan had been to let Varelle look around as much as she desired—even to going through the gates to other lands if she so wished. This kept her occupied while the five explorers assembled equipment for their journey. Once Firekeeper would have sniffed about how humans weighed themselves down, but she’d learned the hard way that going to the trouble of carrying equipment was far better than wishing for medications or extra arrows or even a warm blanket.
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