ZYGRADON

by Michelle L. Levigne

  The wind picked up and howled through the slit windows piercing the tower at every level. The resulting whistles and growls drowned the sounds of their soft boot soles on the stone and wood. Mrillis reached for the Threads to pull power into himself to feed his aching, weary muscles--despite Le'esha's warning that he could hurt himself if he wasn't fully healed.

  He didn't care. What good was his imbrose and ability to touch the power flowing through the land if he couldn't help Ceera now?

  "Little brats who go where they don't belong get hurt," Nixtan said. He didn't grin when the other boys did, as if his words were more warning than threat.

  Ceera folded her arms and put her back to the wall. There was plenty of room to go around her and down the stairs. Taykal, the biggest of the bullies, glowered at her. Mrillis guessed the black-haired bully had been about to accuse Ceera of blocking the way. Her move took the smoke from his fire. If he couldn't demand that she get out of the way, then he wouldn't have an excuse to push her. Knowing Taykal, he wanted to push Ceera as close to the edge of the stairs as possible, to frighten her.

  Endor and Mrillis climbed ten more steps in those few moments of silence. Above them, the two sides glared at each other.

  "Where's your keeper?" Nixtan finally said.

  "Nursemaid," another boy snarled, earning laughter from the others.

  Ceera glared at them and clenched her jaw tightly enough to make her teeth hurt. Mrillis fought the urge to break the link between them. Seeing through her eyes, feeling the reactions in her body, made it hard to keep climbing. Endor slowed and gestured for him to look up. Just two landings, two more bends in the stairs ahead of them, they could see the bullies, with Ceera between them and her rescuers. The shadows hid Mrillis and Endor, but the sunlight slanting through the windows and gaps between wall and roof put the older boys into clear view.

  Wish we could throw fire at them, Ceera thought to Mrillis.

  He laughed, sharing her mental image of Nixtan howling and flying down the steps, with flames crawling across his buttocks. His laughter echoed from all sides, startling the bullies and Endor. With a shrug, the other boy continued up the winding stairs and Mrillis followed, until they stood facing Nixtan.

  "She doesn't belong here." Nixtan stomped forward and jammed his fists into his hips. "Take the baby girl away before she gets hurt."

  "If she gets hurt, it'll be your fault, and the Queen of Snows will make you pay," Endor snapped back.

  "Gonna use blood magic on us?" Taykal sneered. "That's the only magic you'll ever have."

  "I don't need blood magic." He clenched his fists and took a step forward, to go around Ceera. "I can pound your face flat before you can move."

  Mrillis caught his arm to stop him. "We have permission to show the island to Ceera," he said. "From the High Scholar."

  "Liar."

  A ball of blue light shot from Mrillis' clenched fist and hit Nixtan hard in the chest before vanishing. The older boy gasped and staggered backward from the impact. He slipped on the wet wood and went to his knees on the edge.

  The feel of Ceera's mental hand linking with his jolted Mrillis from the shock of what he had done. Their minds linked as easily as when they had merged to battle the starshower. A streak of sparks shot from Ceera and slapped Nixtan, toppling him back against the wall.

  Go! Ceera shrieked into his thoughts, half-laughing, as the other boys scrambled to yank Nixtan to his feet.

  Mrillis reached past Endor to grab Ceera's physical hand and dragged her down the steps after him. Endor followed only a few steps behind, his cloak streaming out like a horse's tail. Silence rang through the tower, muffling the sounds of their thudding, sliding feet.

  The three children bolted out through the open doorway at the bottom of the tower and kept running. Across the clearing that surrounded the tower, down the slope toward the beach, then along the sand until they reached the rocky headlands where the sea crashed against huge piles of boulders. Ceera didn't ask questions--Mrillis had told her about the hiding place in the middle of the pile, sheltered from storm and hot sunshine. The three children climbed up and around and down a short tunnel. Finally, they dropped to their knees in the pile of leaves and moss that carpeted the hole.

  Laughter escaped them in snorts and giggles and gasps. They laughed until tears filled Ceera's eyes and Mrillis felt dizzy. They lay on their backs, looking up at the tiny slit of sky visible through the chimney in the rock, and let their bodies recover from their headlong flight. The silence that fell on them sealed their friendship, as binding as any blood vow.

  "Show me how to do that," Endor said, after the silence had grown thick and comforting and then faded again.

  "I'm not sure how I did it." Mrillis sighed and rolled onto his side to look at Ceera. "Do you know?"

  The silver-haired child shrugged. "Thicker Threads, I guess. We needed to do it, so we just...did it." She sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees.

  Endor wanted them to show him how to see and touch the Threads, but before they could get started, Kathal came looking for them. The warrior had followed their running footsteps from the tower. He gave them some dignity by standing outside and calling for them to come out, instead of climbing in after them. Mrillis appreciated that.

  "We should tell our Lady what happened," Ceera said, when the three children had reached the sandy stretch of the beach.

  "Now what mischief have you gotten into?" Kathal demanded.

  "Nixtan and his herd of pigs were bothering Ceera," Endor said. "Mrillis hit him with magic." He grinned and shrugged. "And then we ran, so they wouldn't pound us into the mud."

  "Mrillis hit him with magic," the warrior repeated. He rested one hand on Mrillis' shoulder and the other on Ceera's--though he had to bend over a little to reach the girl's. "Are you all right? You didn't hurt yourself? Those idiots didn't hurt you, little one?"

  It took the rest of the walk to Breylon's quarters to tell Kathal what had happened and assure him the bullies hadn't done them any harm. To Endor's disgust, he had to join the other students and teachers for dinner in the central dining hall, but Mrillis and Ceera were to join Le'esha, Breylon, the head scholars and the Warhawk's emissary for dinner in the scholars' private meeting room.

  The children sat quietly, listening as the adults discussed the starshower and everything that had resulted. Mrillis felt some relief that he wasn't required to recite. He was hungry and wanted to eat. He was relieved to see the visitors were only two men: Warlord Lyon and Battlemaster Norum. Mrillis listened to Lyon's questions, curious to see how the Warlord dealt with things beyond his experience and skill.

  Lyon moved and observed the world like a wild animal, triply alert and cunning. Mrillis decided he admired the Noveni nobleman warrior. He asked questions that cut to the heart of the matter and didn't try to make himself sound wiser and more insightful than he actually was. Mrillis had seen and heard other Noveni scholars and emissaries try to do that, when meeting with Breylon or Le'esha.

  "Do you think it was blood magic, lad?" Lyon raised his head and met Mrillis' gaze.

  "I've never seen or felt blood magic...so I don't know if that's what I felt." Mrillis felt his heart pick up its pace. "I felt burning. It was... filthy. Worse than just dirt. Like dead things had been heaped together. Full of poison."

  "I smelled blood," Ceera said, her voice barely above a whisper. Under the table, she reached for Mrillis' hand. He twined his fingers through hers to encourage her. "Bad blood. Sick blood smells. Like when wounds rot."

  "How would such a pretty maid know that smell?" Lyon tried to smile, but the bleakness in his eyes told Mrillis the man didn't mock either of them.

  "Ceera has a strong gift for healing, even so young," Le'esha said. "She comes often to the healing rooms in the Stronghold, to comfort the ill and learn to heal. She has seen death and suffering. And the gangrene of wounds gone bad. Yes, the children touched the result
of blood magic, when they fought the battle in the sky."

  Lyon slammed his fist into the table, making goblets and bowls jump and rock. No one flinched.

  "Will we spend eternity fighting this evil? We are warriors, my brother and our kin and our nobles, but we do not live to make war and spill blood. The Encindi are brutes, but they are also women and children, and there must be some innocents among them." He glanced around the table, fury and frustration making his eyes bright. "Must we totally destroy an entire people, for the sake of peace?"

  "There will not be peace, even if every Encindi were to die," Breylon said, his voice quiet in the aftermath of the warrior's impassioned outcry. "Evil exists in every heart, not just the Encindi. If we destroy them, then Noveni and Rey'kil will find reasons to fight among themselves."

  "Then what are we to do? Master High Scholar Breylon--Queen of Snows--my brother relies on your guidance. How do we fight this evil magic that pulls star-metal down on our heads?"

  "The histories speculate that the Nameless One first turned to blood magic to protect the World from star-metal," Scholar Tetherys offered. "We must beware the same pitfall, to go beyond the tools and the laws the Estall has given us, for the sake of power or riches or even greater knowledge. To do evil in the name of good turns everything evil. Eventually. And the pity is that those who start down that slippery path don't even realize they have fallen. In their hearts, they see themselves as good, as benefactors, as martyrs."

  "So we are to just suffer and work on rebuilding our defensive walls, instead of taking weapons in our hands and going out to meet the enemy?" Lyon said.

  Mrillis chafed against the knowledge that his destiny lay in magic and scholarship. He wanted to pick up a sword, race out into the world and batter those who devoured the innocent.

  Then he thought of what he had done in the tower, when his anger manifested in a burst of power. He could have knocked Nixtan, his former friend, from the steps, perhaps to his death.

  "The children are our future," Le'esha said. She rested a hand on Ceera's silver head and lightly stroked the child's hair. "These children, acting in love and innocence--"

  "And ignorance," Mrillis grumbled. His words earned snorts and grins from most of those at the table, and seemed to lighten the atmosphere.

  "Sometimes knowledge can be dangerous, and those who leap into the void in the name of love are those the Estall can use most effectively," she said, nodding. "These children have shown us the way. We are happy to give you some good news for the Warhawk. Even now, enchanters work to take the death aspect from star-metal, and harvest its power to benefit Rey'kil and Noveni both. When we are sure of what we do, we shall move west to Moerta, to take the poison from star-metal and give the land new life, so the Noveni can reclaim their heritage."

  The moon had risen to its zenith before Le'esha gestured for the children to climb from their chairs and follow her. Mrillis was relieved, and partially jealous of Ceera, whom Kathal carried because she was too sleepy to walk. His legs ached from his headlong flight up the tower stairs. His eyes kept crossing from weariness. He hated these signs of lingering weakness.

  "All great endeavors have a price," Le'esha said, resting her hand on the boy's shoulder as they crossed the empty, moonlit central square of the scholars' enclave. "You have paid a heavy price for the things you did, but be grateful you did not pay the full price, half-trained and unaccustomed to being a channel of power."

  "I should have died, you mean?" Mrillis felt no shame when he stumbled and she slid her arm around his shoulders to steady him. He didn't mind feeling small and young then, and afraid.

  "Nothing worth having is ever given freely. Someone always pays the price. Better that you should pay the price for the things you value. The alternative is to take them from others, forcing them to pay the price. Such actions poison all your treasures, so that nothing will ever satisfy."

  "Better a crust of bread in a peaceful cottage, than rich meats in a castle, with a knife at your throat," the boy said with a crooked grin, echoing a proverb several scholars on Wynystrys were fond of quoting.

  "Exactly." She laughed softly and bent to brush a kiss against the top of his head. "You're growing up too quickly, my lad. I am proud of you. As proud as if you came from my own womb. Be sure, your parents watch from the Estall's Bliss, and they are proud of you, too."

  "How can I be proud of myself, when everything I do seems like an accident?" he blurted.

  "As long as you remember you are a tool in the Estall's hands, what does it matter? There are no accidents when the Source of Life guides us." They walked together in silence while the boy thought that through, until they reached the door of the cottage where Le'esha and Ceera stayed.

  "Lady..." Mrillis sighed and bowed his head. He knew he had to tell the Queen of Snows what he had done, but now, after her words of praise, he felt ashamed.

  They stayed outside while Kathal took Ceera inside. Le'esha remained silent as he explained in halting words what had happened; Ceera running ahead, seeing through her eyes, hearing Nixtan's threats, the anger that burst from him in a ball of blue power. And how Ceera had linked with him and they had pushed the bully away from the edge before he fell.

  Le'esha thanked Kathal when the warrior came out of the hut, after putting Ceera in her bed. Then the two waited until they were totally alone again in the moonlight and shadows.

  "I think..." She sighed. "I think there is great wisdom in having boys raised by men, after a certain point. Part of me wishes to hold you, terrified at the harm you could have done. Another part wishes to swat your bottom, as if you were half your age and screaming nasty threats. But you were never a vile, willful child, were you? Did you enjoy feeling the power leap to your command? Were you glad to have the strength, the ability to do great harm to your enemy?"

  He wanted to say no, but Mrillis knew better than to lie to Le'esha. Not because she was Queen of Snows and could see into his thoughts and his heart and his dreams. Because she had raised him, dried his tears, praised his stumbling steps and she cried over him and sat with him when he was ill.

  "I liked it. And I hated Nixtan. Because he used to be my friend. That just makes all his nasty tricks even worse. And it frightened me. But only a little," he admitted, ending on a sigh.

  "If Nixtan had fallen, could you and Ceera have caught him?"

  "I don't know," he whispered.

  "Always let that be your guide, when you want to use the power that has come on you. If you cannot use it to heal the harm you might cause, then do not use it in attack." She sighed and caught his chin in her long-fingered hand, tipping his head up so their gazes met. "Except to save lives, when there is no other recourse. Never hesitate to save lives, my dear one. That is the reason the Estall gives skill with swords to some, and healing to others, and the reason he gave imbrose to the Rey'kil. To protect life. At all costs."

  "Yes, Lady."

  "Tonight has been too long and tiring." She caressed his cheek before stepping past him into the cottage. "Good night, my lad. Go to bed and sweet dreaming to you. Master Breylon will speak with you tomorrow on this. You are in his charge, after all." She offered a smile before she moved from moonlight to darkness. "He will likely add more lessons to your day. Only a fool leaves a knife lying about, separated from its sheath and unused."

  "Because foolish children will cut their fingers in their ignorance," Mrillis whispered, finishing the proverb. He sighed, then a crooked smile lit his face as he turned to leave. "Good night, Lady."

  His footsteps were light as he hurried down the narrow paths to his own quarters, despite his weariness and aching head. He wouldn't be forbidden to use the new power that had come to him, and he wasn't in trouble. Not exactly.

  And maybe--just maybe--Nixtan and his bully friends would finally leave him and Endor alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "They'll just pick on other boys even smaller than us," Endor told him the next morning, after Mrillis related wha
t they discussed during the dinner with Lyon, and Le'esha's words afterwards.

  "Oh. I didn't think about that." Mrillis sighed.

  This was the backlash that Master Ayleron constantly warned his students about. He was a cynical, gnarled, surprisingly young man who taught the skills to be hunters, spies and scouts, to travel on solitary missions or act as bodyguards. Master Ayleron constantly warned that for every action, there was always a reaction, in direct proportion to the strength of what had been done. For every sweet, there was a sour. For every rescue, the enemy reacted with another attack. Because Mrillis, Endor and Ceera could now be reasonably sure of freedom from Nixtan's nastiness, that meant younger, more vulnerable boys on the island would receive more nasty tricks and bullying.

  "Make sure Nixtan knows we won't let him beat on the little ones," his friend continued. "Pound him hard with your imbrose, just once, and stop him from being a bully."

  "That would make me a bully."

  "No it wouldn't!"

  "Nixtan can't touch his imbrose yet. If I use it on him, it's as bad as him picking on someone half his size." Mrillis rubbed at his temples. Maybe he hadn't slept away his headache after all. He would have a lot of questions for Master Breylon when the High Scholar finally sent for him.

  * * * *

  Mrillis was grateful that Endor seemed to like Ceera. His friend had an amazing skill in woodcarving but rarely gave his creations as gifts to anyone. The day after the tower incident, Endor carved two birds for Ceera, so lifelike they made her laugh with delight. Mrillis was glad.

  However, he found he didn't like it when Ceera smiled for Endor and laughed at his partially barbed comments. He especially didn't like it when his friend put an arm around the girl or tousled her hair or shared sweets with her. Mrillis didn't understand why such friendliness should bother him. He only knew it did.

  His quandary didn't last long, because Le'esha and Ceera left Wynystrys to return to the Stronghold only two days later. Mrillis thought life would return to normal on the island, and he was partially right. Because of his new lessons, with boys older than him, he had less time for fun and less time to spend with Endor. His red-haired friend grew quiet and seemed to spend more time alone than ever. Mrillis tried to make it up to him by sharing his lessons in tapping the power of the Threads, but it was hard when Endor could neither see nor touch the Threads yet, and couldn't visualize what Mrillis told him.