by Maggie Furey
‘Yinze, is it wise to go back to Aerillia?’ Thara asked. ‘If that swine Incondor has gone back home, then surely all the trouble between you will begin again. I thought that was what Queen Pandion wanted to avoid.’
‘I’m hoping Incondor has learned his lesson, and he’ll stay out of Yinze’s way this time,’ Crombec said. ‘If not, then we will deal with him. Last time, we had no idea what was happening, because Yinze was so close-mouthed about the whole business. Cyran, may he rest in peace, wanted to avoid any controversy. But this time the Queen is already aware of the situation, and no such restrictions will apply. We should be able to avoid trouble – if I didn’t believe that, I would not take Yinze back. But with all the will in the world, we cannot stay here. We need the facilities a city can provide to make our Harp, and it ought to be Aerillia. This is, after all, the Skyfolk Artefact.’
‘Besides.’ Yinze glanced across at his foster sister. ‘I want to be within visiting distance of Iriana.’
‘Because I’m going with Corisand and the Xandim to help them settle into their new lands on the Wyndveil,’ Iriana finished for him. ‘But I’ve been talking to Corisand, and she and I, not to mention the rest of the Xandim, have decided not to go until spring, if we’re needed here to help the Tyrineldians get back on their feet. With the flying spell, there are a hundred and one ways that we could help build a proper settlement for the refugees, and make a start on the wonderful city of Avithan’s dreams.’
‘Then I won’t leave until spring either,’ Yinze said. ‘I’m sorry for the delay, Kea and Crombec, but right now my mother needs me, and so does Avithan. I want to be here for both of them. And we’ve all been apart for so long’ – he gestured at the other Wizards around the fire – ‘that I want to spend some time with all of you, too.’
‘If it’s so important to you, of course we can wait.’ Kea turned to her mentor. ‘Can’t we?’
‘It seems I’ve been outvoted,’ Crombec said. ‘Very well, Yinze, if this is what you need to do, we can at least begin our work here, and return to Aerillia in the spring to complete it. Besides,’ he added wryly, ‘it will give Queen Pandion time to send back our bearers that Incondor stole.’
‘If Iriana and Corisand, not to mention you, Mel, will help me take care of Atka’s child – before and after the egg hatches, then I would like to stay and do my bit too,’ Chathak said. ‘Everything here reminds me of Esmon, and I wanted to use the egg as an excuse to escape, but I’m not the only one grieving. Hearing you talk, I’d rather share my grief with all of you, especially Avithan. Maybe we can help each other.’
‘I was longing to return to the ocean,’ Ionor said. ‘I think that for the rest of my life I’ll be torn between my friends on land and those in the sea. But for now the sea, and the Leviathan, can wait. If Avithan needs our help to build his dream, then I’m quite happy to postpone my own dreams for a while, to help him out.’
‘I didn’t know whether to stay here, where I would be needed to try to get some emergency foodstuffs growing, or go with Iriana to help the Xandim learn how to cultivate their crops,’ Thara said. ‘After what they’ve done for us today, they deserve all the help we can give them, and I wanted to be part of that.’ She grinned. ‘Now I’ll have a chance to do both, and spend the winter with my best friends in the world.’
Avithan had been standing in the shadows, no longer sure of his welcome among these people who, before they’d all been parted, had been his best and closest friends. He had listened with growing bitterness to the beginning of the conversation, when they had all been planning to desert him to pursue their own concerns – then suddenly Iriana had turned everything around, and everyone was agreeing to stay for the winter, to help and support him. All at once he realised that, no matter how long they were separated, or how badly they quarrelled, deep in all their hearts, when they needed one another, they would always be bound together in friendship.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the darkness into the warm, bright circle of firelight, and held out his hands. ‘Thank you,’ he said simply. ‘Thank you.’ Then his eyes went to Iriana. ‘I’m sorry. What I said before – I didn’t mean it. I owe you; all the Tyrineldians owe you a debt that we can never repay. You and Corisand should be honoured in song and story for ever after, Iriana – and no matter what happens in the future, this will always be your home.’
38
~
HOMECOMING
Over the winter, the tents and temporary shelters were gradually replaced by roughly constructed log houses, and both the Xandim and the Wizards of Tyrineld learned new skills by the day: construction and carpentry; hunting with bow and snare; skinning and butchery. Those who already possessed skills such as pottery, blacksmithing, spinning and weaving found themselves in great demand to teach their crafts to others. The remnants of the Luen of Nurturers had been forcing grain and root crops to grow unnaturally fast in the areas of forest from which the timber had been cleared for building materials, and though the results were not as good as nature would have provided in season, at least the food supplies were increased.
Work helped the refugees come to terms with their grief, but to look at any of them was to see the haunting shadows of horror and pain within their eyes. Nevertheless, most of them made a gallant effort to rebuild their lives, though some died from their injuries or insupportable loss. Gradually the differences between Nexians and Tyrineldians were diminishing, and Avithan, who worked himself into a state of exhaustion trying to be everywhere and do everything at once, could finally see the beginnings of the community that Nexis would one day become. For the future, he had grandiose plans: he wanted to take the island where the river divided in the middle of the town and construct a massive eminence where he would one day build the new Academy. For now, however, that was still a dream.
The fisherfolk were also building a new settlement, further west of Independence, where an indentation in the newly formed coastline made a natural harbour. They traded timber with the Nexians for the fish they caught, and the new community of Norberth was slowly taking shape. To everyone’s surprise, Aelwen and Kelon had gone to live with the fishing community, and had been made welcome. Taryn and Alil had taken them back to Athina’s tower to pick up the Wizard mounts and packhorse that had been left there in safety. Esmon’s warhorse was a stallion, and though Avithan’s mount had been a gelding, the packhorse had been a mare. Iriana had also given them Dailika, who would never be fit to ride again, but could be used for breeding. They hoped eventually to set up a trading circuit that took in farms, fisherfolk, outlying solitary Wizards and the growing town of Nexis, and also to breed more horses to sell and trade.
Iriana never found out what had been said between Aelwen and Taine, but they still seemed to be on amicable terms, content to remain friends though they were no longer lovers. She herself kept a greater distance from Avithan, determined to keep their relations cordial and civil over the winter months. Though things remained awkward and tense between them, somehow they managed to get through. When the seasons turned at last, however, and it was time for the Xandim and those Wizards and outlanders who were leaving to finally depart, Iriana felt positively giddy with relief.
It was on a cool, sparkling clear morning in spring when Corisand finally caught her first glimpse of the Wyndveil. She and her fellow Xandim, along with Yinze, Thara, Taine, Kea, Crombec and new winged bearers sent by Queen Pandion – who had carried Chathak, the young Dragon and the larger of Iriana’s animals, Bear and the young white cat whom she had named Frost – had flown through the night across the new stretch of ocean that Ghabal had created to split the north of the landmass from the south. Now, though weary from keeping the flight spell in place all the way across the new ocean, she drank in the sight of the peak, its upper levels still covered by a crown of snow, that reared its craggy head through the clear morning air.
It was such a relief to be here at last. The winter, spent in Nexis, had been long and hard. Sometime
s she’d thought it would never end. Out of gratitude to Iriana, and because they wanted the Wizards as allies in times to come, the Xandim had opted to remain and help the refugees from Tyrineld, but they had found themselves working harder, far harder, in more primitive shelter and on shorter rations, than when they had been slaves of the Phaerie.
The difference was that this time they had been doing it voluntarily – and now, finally, they were about to reap their reward.
As they neared the mountain, Corisand felt the Fialan, within its pouch around her neck, pulse once, in welcome, then the deep, echoing voice of Basileus resounded in her mind. ‘Welcome indeed to you, O Windeye; and to all of the Xandim. Welcome to your new home, the Wyndveil mountain. May your lives here, and the lives of all your descendants through generations uncounted, be happy, prosperous and secure.’
On her back, the Windeye felt Iriana grow tense with excitement. ‘It’s so good to hear Basileus again. Doesn’t that voice take you back to the times we spent in the Elsewhere?’
‘It does indeed.’ Corisand sent her friend the image of a smile. ‘Basileus,’ she called out to the Moldan in reply. ‘I can’t tell you how glad we are to hear your voice once more. We Xandim will be eternally grateful for this beautiful home. Truly, it is a gift beyond price.’
‘You and Iriana released the Dwelven, so it is I who owe a debt to you,’ Basileus replied. ‘I am very glad that you have both come back here. And who are these others you bring? More Wizards, and Winged Folk from my fellow Moldan Aerillia. There are even Leviathan in the waters around my feet, and a baby Dragon. Truly, all the Magefolk are represented – even if one is very small as yet,’ he added wryly. ‘Any guests of yours, of course, friend Corisand, are welcome here, but I am curious. Have they come to help the Xandim settle in their new lands?’
‘Some of them are simply passing through,’ Corisand replied, ‘on their way to Aerillia or Dhiammara. With your permission, others are staying with me for a little while to help the Xandim build a home for themselves.’
‘These lands are yours now, Windeye – my gift to you. You need not ask my permission – except when it comes to delving and mining in my bones. All friends of yours will be friends of mine. Now, there are one or two places I would like to show you before you settle in. Fly a little higher, Corisand. Partway up my slopes you will find a wide green plateau.’
Afire with curiosity, the Windeye led her people higher up the side of the Wyndveil, looking in delight at the green meadows around the feet of the mountain, the dark forests of fir and spruce that clustered around the lower slopes and climbed up the steep-sided valleys, and the waterfalls, like endless threads of sparkling silver that plunged down from the heights. All the while she was marvelling at such resplendent beauty, Corisand was keeping her eye open for the broad green plateau described to her by Basileus. Finally she saw it – a deep shelf of green grass that clung to the northern slope of the peak, cloaked in a tapestry of vibrantly coloured wild flowers that rippled in the wind. About two-thirds of the way along, closer to the western end, the plateau was divided by a stream that ran out of a narrow vale that drove deep into the mountainside, crossed to the precipice at the plateau’s edge, and fell down in a slender waterfall of shimmering white foam. The entrance of the vale was guarded by a pair of tall standing stones, and Corisand looked at them in surprise.
‘Within that valley lies your own, private place, O Windeye; a slender spire cleft from the mountainside where you can read the winds and watch the world, and keep guard over your people.’
‘Basileus, I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve made everything so perfect for us – but how did you do it?’
‘This mountain is my body in this world, friend Windeye. I can transform it through my powers and my will, to suit my purposes – and yours.’
Corisand was longing to see her very own tower, but the Moldan called her back.
‘Wait a while, if you will. I have another surprise for you, and this one is a gift for all your people. At the eastern end of the plateau you will find a cliff path curving down around the mountainside. Follow where it leads.’
Led by the Windeye, the Xandim found and followed the steep path as it curved down and around to the eastern face of the mountain. It led to a deep embayment in the mountainside, and there, extending out of the encircling cliffs, was a massive fortress that seemed as if it was formed from a single block of stone, an organic formation from the very bones of the Moldan.
‘It is much roomier than it appears,’ Basileus said. ‘It extends far back into the mountain itself; a labyrinth of rooms and corridors; enough to house many times your number in, and be a secure defence should trouble ever come to the Xandim.’
‘But where did it come from?’ Corisand gasped. ‘Who built it?’
‘O Windeye, can you not guess, after I told you about your tower?’ The Moldan laughed. ‘I formed it myself; it is made of my heart, my body, my spirit. And for those who would not care to live in such a dark, intimidating structure, I have made smaller shelters – see?’
The green slope below the massive edifice was scattered with smaller dwellings looking like mossy boulders that had fallen from the cliff above.
‘Each of those structures are small houses that extend a little way underground,’ Basileus said, and Corisand could hear the pride in his tone. Clearly he was enjoying making his new guests welcome on his mountain. ‘Each of them have simple fireplaces and surfaces that are raised or indented to form stone beds, benches, storage alcoves and tables – as far as I can understand your needs,’ he went on.
‘Basileus, it’s marvellous,’ the Windeye said. She spiralled down to land outside the gate of the fastness and, having let Iriana dismount and unstrap the basket that contained Melik, changed to her human aspect, while the other Xandim followed suit.
While Corisand was transforming, Taine drew Iriana a little way apart from the others. ‘No Avithan.’ He grinned at her.
Iriana grinned back. ‘No Aelwen.’
‘I’ve been waiting all winter to do this.’ Taine put his arms around her, held her close and kissed her.
‘It was worth waiting for,’ Iriana murmured happily, and kissed him back.
Pleased for her friend, Corisand smiled to see them – and suddenly felt eyes upon her. She turned and there was Taryn.
‘Look good together, don’t they?’ he said. ‘Do you think we would look as good as that?’
‘Maybe,’ Corisand replied with a secret little smile. ‘I think it’s going to be fun finding out.’
‘The last time I tried anything like that, you nearly kicked me to pieces.’
‘I was much too busy to bother with males back then,’ Corisand said. ‘I had a whole race to free – and besides, we were horses then, and you were Aelwen’s choice, not mine.’
‘And now?’
‘I promise I won’t kick you to pieces this time.’ Corisand laughed, and took his hand. ‘Come on, let’s go and explore our new home.’
It was a busy day, but at sunset, Iriana and Corisand stood together high on the battlements of the fortress, looking at the wide plateau and the airy view of the lands beyond, all illuminated in the golden glow of a lovely sunset. This was their moment: the culmination of their friendship, the battles they had fought together, the hardships they had suffered. Iriana smiled at her friend. ‘You know, I think that today, of all days, we have the right to be proud of what we’ve accomplished.’
Corisand touched the wall of the sturdy fortress, wrought from the bones of the mountain, then looked out across the open spaces of the new Xandim realm. ‘After all those centuries of slavery, the Xandim have been freed at last.’ Her voice was choked with emotion.
‘It’s so wonderful to see it all begin.’ Iriana smiled wistfully. ‘I only wish that Dael could be here. Without his help, none of this could ever have happened.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘You know, I really miss him.’
‘I miss him too, but he’s where he wan
ted to be, with Athina,’ Corisand replied.
‘I know, and I’m really happy that, against all the odds, he found his way back to her. I only wish that he could share this moment with us. He was one of us.’
‘Maybe he can,’ the Windeye said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe he can.’
Looking into the timeless lake with the Cailleach, watching the Xandim arrive at their new home and listening to Iriana and Corisand, Dael felt a wonderful, warm glow of pride. ‘Did you hear that?’ he asked Athina. ‘They miss me. I was one of them. Not a lowly slave, or a mere mortal, but an equal with a Wizard and a Windeye.’
Athina put an arm around his shoulders. ‘It comes as no surprise to me. Didn’t I always tell you that you were special? And now that the power of the Fialan has flowed through you, who knows what you may become? I don’t know how the Universe will cope with a new Creator – but I’ve a feeling we’re about to find out.’
ALSO BY MAGGIE FUREY FROM GOLLANCZ:
Heritage of the Xandim
Copyright
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright © Maggie Furey 2013
All rights reserved.
The right of Maggie Furey to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by 2013 in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain in 2013 by
Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
London, WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
This eBook first published in 2013 by Gollancz.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
