Just before noon, the star-metal chimed in slight discord, warning of another company approaching from the Lygroes end of the tunnel. None of them spoke or even glanced at each other in silent communication. Mrillis stepped back and flung a blanket and then a ground cloth over the Zygradon, to hide it. No one but Rey'kil could come down the tunnel, but not all Rey'kil were friends. If there were traitors and rebels in Moerta, attacking innocent Noveni, there had to be twice as many in Lygroes.
Haster led the ten who rode with torches and imbrose light blazing, spears at ready and arrows ready in their bows. The stargazer let out a shout and raised his hand, bringing his warriors to a halt. He stared at the weary, triumphant band. Then he tipped his head back and laughed.
"We should have known it was you. What mischief have you three--no, wait, where's Endor?" He shook his head and waved his hand, pushing aside the question. "What mischief have you created this time?"
"No mischief," Ceera said. She glanced at Mrillis, eyes sparkling, and bit her lip to fight a grin.
"What happened?" Mrillis said. He gestured at the spears, which had finally been returned to the traveling straps on the saddles, and the arrows being put back into quivers. "You thought we were someone else, didn't you?"
"We didn't know who was coming. The sentinels raised the alarm when you just appeared, no warning, halfway down the tunnel." Haster dismounted. "What have you been doing?"
"Show him." Ceera turned to Loereen, who muffled a giggle and hurried to yank the coverings off the Zygradon, in its place of honor at the front of the supply cart.
Haster's smile froze, then slowly faded. He looked at Ceera, then Mrillis, then back at the wagon. He shook his head.
"I see... nothing."
No one else in Haster's party could see anything. Mrillis would have discounted them, since they were all warriors with little imbrose. But Haster had the clearest sight when it came to magic. After years of working with star-metal, learning to direct the fall of starshowers, his imbrose had grown stronger. How could the stargazer not see the Zygradon?
"Not that I doubt you," Haster said, when their combined group had started up the tunnel to Lygroes again.
Because Ceera and Mrillis' company were on foot, the warriors walked too, five ahead of them and five behind. Like guards. Mrillis didn't like the feeling that he and Ceera and their company had suddenly become suspect.
Or was it that they had suddenly stepped beyond their places and their elders and peers feared them?
"You two, together, have caused more change among our people, added to our knowledge, changed our entire vision of magic and star-metal... I would be a fool to doubt when you say something is so." Haster shrugged and glanced back at the wagon, which was directly behind him.
He walked between Mrillis and Ceera, at the head of the company. Mrillis held the lead reins for the horse that pulled the supply wagon, and only had to glance back over his shoulder to see the Zygradon, gleaming softly in its nest of blankets among the supplies. The star-metal in the walls responded as it had done all morning, shimmering softly, glowing more brightly as the Zygradon approached, then slowly fading away as the bowl passed. As if he could read Mrillis' thoughts, Haster nodded and gestured at the streaks of light on the walls.
"That proves you've done something, and something is definitely here... but I can't see it. None of us can. You say Threads are bound tightly to it, and all the Threads of the world now flow through it... and I don't doubt you. That's what alarmed our elders more than all of you appearing in the tunnel so suddenly. The music of the Threads has changed."
"How?" Mrillis' voice threatened to crack at the sudden shock that jolted through him.
"What have we done?" Ceera whispered.
"Oh, no, it's a good thing. I think. Where the strongest of us have always sensed a slight discord, as if the Threads sang their own songs and didn't care if they were in tune, now..." Haster grinned. "Now they are one massive harp, not fifty." He glanced over his shoulder again. "If only I could see. It must be a marvelous and awesome sight, the Threads going through it, the power of all that star-metal in one place."
"That's probably why it is invisible," Ceera said, nodding. Her frown deepened, her thoughts almost visibly swirling through her head. "Just as a large lump of star-metal made us invisible and untouchable through the Threads...the Zygradon hides itself. But why can we see it? Shouldn't it have become invisible as soon as it was formed?"
"We put ourselves into the making of it," Loereen offered.
"Yes, of course. You are bound to it," Haster said, nodding. "Consider this, children." He winked as he said the word, because half the company were as tall as he, or taller. "Because no one but you can see it, no one can steal it."
"But what happens when we are dead and no one can see it? How can it be guarded?"
"That is a question to be answered later. Perhaps those of you who have children can pass the gift on to them." He shrugged. "If only..." He shrugged and grinned and turned his face forward again.
"What?" Ceera asked.
"I'd like to at least touch it."
"Why not?" Mrillis gestured for the guards to halt, and tugged on the horse's lead reins to stop the wagon. He picked up the bowl in both hands. The base was small enough he could hold it on his flattened palms. Despite the amount of star-metal that went into it, and its size, the bowl felt as light as if made of gossamer.
Haster licked his lips and glanced around at their company before reaching out his gloved hand to touch the bowl. His hand glanced aside, sliding around the bowl as if pushed by an invisible hand. He tried again. He pressed his hand against Mrillis' hands, then pushed up, so the young man thought the stargazer would push the Zygradon off his hands. But Haster's hand never touched the bowl.
"I feel nothing... yet something guides my hand away." He frowned and wiped a few drops of sweat off his forehead. "Most strange and strong magic, children. Thank the Estall you are on the side of right, and not allied with the Nameless One."
"It doesn't make sense," Nixtan said. "It's right there. We can touch it." To demonstrate, he ran his index finger up the edge of one of the petals of the bowl and flicked the top edge, making the metal chime.
Haster and the guards flinched as the star-metal lining the tunnel caught and amplified the sound.
"For a moment there..." He frowned. "Little Star... Guide my hand?" He tugged his riding glove off and held out his hand.
Ceera nodded, her frown relaxing a little. She took Haster's hand and guided it to the bowl. Reaching out, she touched the upper edge of the petals with her other hand.
"Blessed bright fires!" Haster roared, and jumped back, yanking his hand free. He scrubbed his eyes with his fists. "It's enough to blind a man."
"If one of us touches the bowl..." Mrillis muffled a chuckle into a snort. "We are the doorways, the windows, I suppose. No one can touch or see the Zygradon, except through us and our help."
"And a blessing of the Estall that is, I'm sure." The old stargazer nodded, his gaze fixed more surely on the place above Mrillis' hands. "All the imbrose in the entire World rests in your hands, lad. Guard it well." A crooked grin brought some color back to his face. "That's a glimpse I'm grateful for, and just as grateful I won't get again."
* * * *
Kathal and Tathal waited at the end of the tunnel when the two combined parties emerged at dusk. With a nod and a twist of his head, Kathal beckoned for Ceera and Mrillis to follow him. He didn't wait for them to respond, but stalked off across the clearing to the tower of Bo'lantier.
"What's--"Ceera began.
"Trouble," Tathal said. He pressed a finger to his lips for silence and gestured for them to go ahead of him.
The tower is spelled to keep people from overhearing, Mrillis thought to Ceera.
I ought to know that.
When you've been Queen of Snows for a year and a day, then you have to know everything. You still have time.
She muffled a giggle and hoo
ked her arm through his as they crossed the clearing together.
Laughter and smiles faded by the time they stepped through the faintly tingling curtain of magic across the door of the tower and climbed up the winding stairs to the room at the top. Kathal stood in the open window where he could look out through the shimmer of lavender sparks to watch the tunnel mouth.
"We were worried," he began. A snort escaped him as he turned to face them.
"Yes, so Haster told us," Ceera said. "We've done something...amazing. I think even we who were involved will not quite understand what it is for many years yet."
"You were invisible, untouchable, unreachable," Tathal said. "Master Breylon worried because he couldn't contact you. He feared treachery."
"No. Only more...mischief." Mrillis winked at Ceera as he said it. She smiled crookedly and shook her head.
"Endor isn't with you," Kathal said. He gestured for them to take seats at the long table that filled the tower room and didn't speak until they had all chosen stools.
"No. He had errands to run and we told him we could not wait. He knew our schedule." He glanced at Ceera. She shook her head, having no more idea than he did what had happened. "Has something happened to him?"
"More like he happened to someone else," Tathal muttered.
"We've heard conflicting stories," his twin said, and bowed his head to study his intertwined fingers. "He met with those hunting the rebels, then passed along the messages you had given him for Master Breylon and others...then he seems to have become two different people."
"That's a clever magic," Mrillis said. "People are telling two different stories about him? That's always been the way of it, just because of who his father is," he hurried to say, cutting off both twins. "Does someone claim he did blood magic, but figured out a way to keep hold of the Threads?"
"That would explain much, yes," Tathal said. "A Noveni village was slaughtered. Some say Endor got there too late to help, and others say he did the slaughtering. Of Noveni and the rebels he had been tracking. Or claimed he had been tracking. Some say he was one of them, and killed his fellows to cover his tracks when he knew he was about to be caught."
"No," Ceera whispered, jolted out of her stunned silence when Mrillis caught hold of her cold little hand.
"Details," Mrillis said, shaking his head.
The band of Rey'kil warriors, whom Endor had met with several days before, arrived only an hour or two after the battle. The bodies were still warm and the blood still wet. They found Endor weeping over the dead children. His clothes were wet with blood, both his own and from the rebels who lay scattered and crumpled among their victims.
Yet only an hour after they raised the alarm and passed along the report of what had happened, another group hunting the rebels refuted everything Endor said. They said they had passed through the isolated valley village only a day before and claimed there were no rebel bands anywhere in the area. They suggested that Endor had attacked the villagers, using magic to immobilize them.
The second band of hunters came to help with the cleansing and burying. They reported the conditions that the first band had been too horrified to report. The children had been hacked to pieces, the young women raped before their throats were slit, the young men disemboweled, and the elders had been tied hand and foot to the doorways of their huts, facing the center of the village where the atrocities had taken place. As if forced to watch before they died.
"There is no proof. No one strong enough to tell if magic was used, and what kind. Certainly no one sensitive enough to catch echoes to identify who did it," Kathal said, finishing the tale.
"Only accusations and conflicting stories and arguments which could tear us apart," Ceera murmured. "Who else knows of this?"
"The elders. The Warhawk and his Council. Master Breylon. He is most upset."
"Does he believe Endor did it, or is he angry that someone would accuse his student?" Mrillis had to ask.
"He does not want to believe any of it."
"It does explain why Endor didn't catch up with us when he said he would," Ceera said. "Either he was trying to rescue that village by himself--but why wouldn't he call for help?"
"Endor always tried to do things by himself," Tathal offered. "He was always trying to prove himself worthy."
"What is worthy about pride that lets others die because he refuses to ask for help?" Mrillis said. His stomach churned and his head throbbed with dizziness.
He didn't want to believe his friend could have been so foolish--or so cruel. Could Endor have destroyed that innocent village? He had the perfect opportunity. He hated the Noveni. He hated being in a position of serving the Noveni. The only reason he helped to remove all the star-metal from Moerta was to keep all magic out of Noveni hands--and to earn Ceera's favor.
"Exactly," Ceera whispered, nodding. "Either he sought glory, and others died for his mistakes and pride. Or he attacked the innocent and helpless. This will take much thinking, much studying of facts and evidence and... I am too tired." A choked laugh escaped her and she thumped the table once with her fists. "I could curse him for destroying the glory of what we have done! I want to sleep for a week, but the...the euphoria of our newest mischief--" She cast a teasing glance at the twins. "I thought I could dance until dawn. Until now."
"What have you two done now?" Kathal asked. He looked almost relieved to have the subject changed.
Trumpets blared, signaling that someone had just emerged from the tunnel mouth. Mrillis leaped to his feet to look out the window. Even in the long, thickening shadows, he caught the fiery gleam of Endor's bare head and the steam coming from the nostrils of his horse. Mrillis watched as the gleaming, sweating horse staggered four steps away from the tunnel and collapsed. Endor leaped free as the horse went down onto its side. He yanked his saddlebags free and stalked away without a backward glance, while servants raced to attend to the horse.
I could almost believe he did it, just from that, Mrillis thought to Ceera, and wondered why his heart felt so empty of all emotion.
"Say nothing," Ceera said. She stood and moved around the table so her back was to the window and she faced the doorway at the head of the stairs. She sat down, stiff and straight, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and hidden below the level of the table.
"Queen of Snows," Kathal whispered. He nodded, met his twin's gaze, and the two stepped over to stand behind her chair as guards. The same stance they took when Master Breylon faced visitors who needed to be impressed with the High Scholar's authority.
Endor's boots sent thudding echoes up and down the levels of the tower. Mrillis stayed seated, head bent as if he studied his hands. He watched the doorway from the corner of his eye, waiting. The clank and scrape of Endor's scabbard on the stone wall, where the stairs narrowed near the top, gave a good picture of his progress.
The hollow echo of thudding footsteps on wooden steps changed to the muffled pounding and clatter of the metal studs in boot heels on the stone floor of the upper level. Mrillis turned just as Endor lunged through the doorway and caught himself, both hands braced on the doorframe. He paused for a heartbeat, face filthy, sweaty, red with effort, scalding fury blazing in his eyes.
"Where were you?" Ceera demanded. She rapped out the words like pebbles hitting the Lake of Ice. "We delayed as long as we could. You promised you would return before we needed to head back the way we came. You knew we would head back to the tunnel. You knew the lump was almost too large to handle when you rode out. Where were you?"
"I was protecting a Noveni village from a band of rebels." Endor spat on the floor, held out his arm and tugged his sleeve up to reveal the awkward bandage reaching from below his elbow to halfway up his biceps. "That's where I was." He slammed a fist down on the table. "Filthy, arrogant purebloods. They call me a brute and a barbarian, because of my father? You should have seen what they did to those children!"
"Yes, we have heard the reports." Her silver eyes gleamed cool and regal; with no hint of the
tears and shock she had suffered just a short time ago.
"You did it, didn't you? Made the bowl of stars." Endor slammed his fists into the end of the table facing her and braced himself on his stiff arms.
Mrillis noted that despite the blood and thick bandage, Endor showed no weakness or pain. He wondered why he noticed such things, why he doubted his friend. Hadn't he chafed all his life against the injustice and unwarranted prejudice that Endor suffered under, because of the ill luck of his parentage? Hadn't Endor been accused of other crimes before--though none so brutal--with strong evidence, yet had always been cleared of all accusations?
Jealousy, Mrillis decided, did much to cloud a man's mind and tempt him toward injustice.
"We could not wait. The star-metal was nearly too strong to handle. It was growing too hot. We had to work it, or else disperse it and wait until it could be gathered again."
Ceera stood and faced him, arms hanging at her side, not quite mirroring his stance. She was fully Queen of Snows in that moment. Mrillis shivered in awe of her, and pride, and ached deep inside as he sensed a wall falling between them. Some part of little Ceera, his playmate and dearest friend, vanished in that moment.
"Yes, the Zygradon has been made. All the Threads in the World flow through it. We are saddened that you were not a part of the actual forming, but you are very much a part of our effort, even so." She gestured at the door. "Come and see."
He won't be able to see it, Mrillis thought to her. How do you think he'll react to that little discovery?
He might, because he was exposed to the concentrated power of the star-metal for so long. And I want to see his reaction, specifically, she responded after a moment of silence. She led the way down the winding stairs.
Ah. Yes. And if he's enraged, then... He sighed. I don't know what his reaction will tell us. I'm too tired. Is he guilty or innocent? Did we leave him behind on purpose, or because we got careless, or was it the Estall's will?
You didn't leave a note, as you could have. I didn't ask you to leave a note, as I should have. We're both guilty. But I'm glad he wasn't a part of the forming, she admitted, and slipped her hand into his as they reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into the evening cool.
ZYGRADON Page 25
