THREE DROPS OF BLOOD

by Michelle L. Levigne

  Mrillis looked forward to the quieter moons of fall, even though the Warhawk's resources would be called on to handle damage from storms, and to repel Encindi raiders who prepared for winter's ravages by taking whatever they wanted from their neighbors, at the point of a sword.

  "Lord Mrillis... do I have any imbrose?" Megassa asked, when the departing travelers had vanished into the shadowy horizon. "Because I don't want it."

  The summer had brought changes to the girl. Mrillis bit his lip against a smile, when the absence of her discontented little pout topped the list. She stood at least two fingers taller, not through growth, but because she walked with pride now instead of shuffling and slouching and staying in shadows. Her skin was a golden brown from hours spent outside on the practice field, and she wore her hair braided out of her way, instead of the tangle of curls that had been her usual style, mostly through the neglect of her nursemaid. No one could mistake the Warhawk's two daughters for each other now. Mrillis rather hoped Megassa would grow up to disdain cosmetics and jewelry and dresses, opting for trousers and tunics and simplicity, like Gynefra and her women warriors. None of the nervous council members, either Rey'kil or Noveni, could look at the girl now and insist that she be sent away before she tried to take Meghianna's place, as they had when the two girls first met.

  "Why don't you want imbrose?" he asked, after a short pause to test her. The girl stood still and calm under his gaze, not fidgeting or growing nervous as she had done only a few moons before.

  "I see how much Meghianna works, how hard she works, everything she has to learn."

  "Meghianna has hard duties awaiting her when she grows up. I'm sure she would say the same about you, learning to be a soldier."

  "I like being a soldier!" A grin lit her face. "Not that I'm a real soldier yet, but I get to ride with Captain Gynefra and learn about battles and maps and making arrows. I'm good at it. She says I was born to be a warrior."

  "Meghianna was born to be an enchantress." He offered his hand, and a warm pleasure tinged with a little sadness washed over him when the child took his hand without hesitating. Both of Efrin's daughters were older than their years, forced to mature sooner and to learn faster because of the circumstances that surrounded them. It was the only way they could survive. "Are you happy, Megassa?"

  "Oh, yes." She bobbed her head and grinned up at him as they crossed the outer courtyard. "I wasn't, before."

  "I'm sorry about that. We made mistakes, deciding what was best for you."

  "Gynefra says you have to be strong to admit you made mistakes." She let him release her hand so he could open the little side door that led into the private quarters of the fortress.

  "She is right, and very wise. I hope you grow up to be like her." Mrillis pulled the door closed behind them and tugged on the Thread that acted as a more secure lock than anything made of iron.

  "I wish she was my mother," the child sighed. She reached for his hand again, and he smiled down at her.

  No, she isn't Emrillian, but she and Meghianna are a gift from you, blessed Estall, to ease my empty heart.

  "In a way, she is. I think she would like it very much if you told her so."

  "Really?" The joy that lit the child's face, her eyes wide, her mouth open in an astonished little smile, made his heart ache.

  Blessed Estall, what have we done to the child--to both our children--that it astonishes them when people care?

  "Then I don't want imbrose, even more. But I do have it, don't I?"

  "You are part Rey'kil, so that means there is some imbrose in you, even if it is so faint that it will never awaken."

  "Can you take it away?"

  "Do you want to be a Valor someday?" he countered.

  "Like Gynefra and Flyrian and the others? Oh, yes!" She yanked on his hand for emphasis.

  "You have to have some imbrose to be a Valor. That's what makes a Valor different from other soldiers or warriors. Magic. It takes magic to guard Braenlicach, you know."

  "Oh." She thought, biting her lip, her forehead wrinkled in concentration as he led her up the winding stairs to Efrin's quarters. The king and Meghianna were likely waiting for the two of them to come for dinner.

  Mrillis thought it amusing that Megassa found it more important to come talk to him about her problem, than to be dressed up and on time for dinner. She had been so delighted about the plan just the day before. Efrin had thought of it without any prompting from Meghianna, and the surprise and excitement on Megassa's face when he referred to it as 'a family dinner, just the four of us,' had given Mrillis a sweet pain.

  "Can you make it so I only have enough imbrose to be a Valor?" Megassa asked, when they reached the top of the stairs.

  "I will have to ask the High Scholar. I'm sure we can think of something," Mrillis said, fighting laughter. He bowed to her, forcing his expression into a grave mask. That was enough to satisfy the girl.

  Ceera, was our Emmi ever this way? So wise and insightful and... innocent, in spite of it all?

  Mrillis followed the child as she scampered down the hall to the big double doors with the Warhawk painted across them, that led into Efrin's quarters. He reflected that raising his daughter hadn't been so filled with peril as Megassa and Meghianna's upbringing. That was likely why it seemed so easy, in retrospect.

  * * * *

  Mrillis discussed Megassa's question with Efrin after the girls had gone to bed that night. The Warhawk liked the idea, and Mrillis contacted High Scholar Deyral immediately, through the Threads, to ask him of the possibility. The scholars who lived in seclusion on Wynystrys took only four days to come up with a plan. Their response worried Mrillis.

  Yes, it was possible to bind Megassa's imbrose so only a little was available for her use, enough to let her qualify as a Valor. Healing talent, fire talent, and speaking through the Threads would be plenty to satisfy the girl.

  That was more talent than many Rey'kil could claim, and would give her high rank as a Valor when her training finished. Mrillis knew it implied that she had a great deal more magic at her disposal, deeper imbrose. Deyral agreed, when he suggested that.

  The truth is that we have kept watch on her, every time we renew the spell to bind her imbrose. It is fascinating, really. She will never be even half as powerful as Meghianna, but that half Megassa will possess is quite a lot more than most Rey'kil have. It is good we decided to stunt her magical inheritance now, before it began to grow, or we might never have been able to later, when she grew conscious of it and learned to use it.

  But? Mrillis prompted, smiling into the darkness of his quarters.

  We are learning more than we ever dreamed possible, watching and keeping a tight grip on her imbrose. It is regretful that we cannot trust her to grow up to use her imbrose lawfully. We still don't know how much influence Endor had on Trevissa, if he sired her, and how much of a hold his warped magic has her, even after death. It cannot be risked.

  And the next generation pays for the mistakes of the generations before.

  May the Estall forgive us, Deyral chimed in.

  I know you, old friend. You're indulging in scholarly talk to distract me. What is the verdict?

  Chapter Five

  We have devised a way to bind her, Deyral said. To shield her from the greater part of her magical talent. But it will require bringing her here to Wynystrys.

  That can be done. Mrillis braced, knowing there had to be more. What the High Scholar had listed for the procedure was too easy.

  With Meghianna.

  Why?

  After Trevissa, Meghianna is the closest by blood. We certainly can't depend on Trevissa to cooperate, even if she was lucid enough on that particular day to understand. We will need the aid of Meghianna's blood bond to get through the natural barriers around Megassa's imbrose. Just like their blood bond lets the two girls share thoughts.

  I knew we would grow to regret that little discovery, Mrillis said, and sighed deeply. He could imagine how Nalla and the Council of the
Queen's Ladies would react to the very idea of Meghianna going to Wynystrys with her cousin/half-sister and being within twenty leagues of Trevissa.

  * * * *

  Efrin only fought one aspect of the girls' trip to Wynystrys. He wanted to go with them, to guard them. The Wynystrys Council and the Council of the Queen's Ladies refused to bend and allow him to set foot on the island. The peril of bringing Braenlicach onto the island, where so much magic congregated, to come near Trevissa with her unpredictable powers of prophecy, would be tempting disaster and a reaction in the Threads. In the years since Emrillian had hidden the Zygradon, Encindi and Valors and groups of Rey'kil enchanters had scoured the land in search of it. They were hampered in their search by the necessity of keeping their enemies from following them and learning the details of their search. Even though only the makers of the Zygradon, and their descendants, could see and touch the bowl that bound all the Threads of the World, there was no guarantee that some enemy couldn't damage it if they detected its location first.

  The leaders of the Rey'kil did not want to risk the reaction that would come when so much magic came together in one place, the strength of Braenlicach meeting the concentrated magic that shielded Wynystrys and bound Trevissa's imbrose. They feared the Zygradon would react to that surge in magic power, in essence sending out a beacon like the light-towers that warned ships away from the rocky coastlines. They feared such a signal would be seen by their enemies. And put the Zygradon into the hands of those enemies.

  Efrin could not accompany his daughters to Wynystrys and face Trevissa unless he left Braenlicach behind, and after all this time, wielding the sword in battle, exercising the little imbrose he had to bond with the sword, the star-metal blade would not let him leave the Warhawk's fortress without it strapped to his side.

  Mrillis reflected later that he should have suspected something. The Council of the Queen's Ladies, so very cautious about everything else that Meghianna did when she was not safely in the Stronghold, didn't give more than a token protest to Deyral's plan. What did they expect to see happen, when Megassa and Meghianna stepped foot on the island? Or what bothered him more--had they planned this with the scholars of Wynystrys, even before Mrillis passed on Megassa's request?

  During the journey to Wynystrys, he found amusement and distraction in watching the two sisters interact outside the routines and boundaries of the Warhawk's fortress. Meghianna had never known or exhibited jealousy until her sister came into her life. Megassa chattered and explored, urging her horse ahead to ride with Mrillis and Meghianna, other times slowing her horse to ride with the women guards. Megassa was Captain Gynefra's pet. Meghianna, on the other hand, rarely talked with anyone but Mrillis. The soldiers who guarded their party didn't avoid the little girl, but neither were they comfortable with her, as they were with Megassa. Meghianna noticed, and grew a little more withdrawn and somber with each day of their journey. Nalla noticed and shared concerned looks with Mrillis, but she did nothing to chide the girl out of her low spirits. Mrillis looked back on his own distant memories of raising his daughter, and supported her decision to let Meghianna work through this as a learning experience.

  Their party traveled from the valley of the fortress, to the Magra River, swollen with the first fall rains, and took flatboats to Quenlaque on the coast. From there, they went overland, avoiding the many jagged little bays and rocky countryside, cutting off three peninsulas until they reached the shallow, wide inlet where the island of Wynystrys had been in Mrillis' youth. There, they camped two days, until Gynefra's scouts caught signs of movement in the hills a day's ride to the south. Someone had noticed their presence on the coast. Leading the enemy, or even the dangerously curious, to Wynystrys and the secrets hidden there, would not be wise. They broke camp and moved further south another day's journey.

  "Someone is weaving Threads," Meghianna said, when they were three hours of riding away from their previous camp. She looked back over her shoulder, as if she could see through the trees, along the winding coastline and high bluffs to the shallow inlet.

  "What are they doing?" Megassa called, urging her horse up alongside her sister. "Who's doing it?"

  "Wynystrys' warriors," Mrillis said.

  "Valors?" The younger girl looked back with interest, as if she could see through the obstacles to her vision.

  He muffled a grin at just how identical they were in such a pose, with only a thin frown line of concentration between Meghianna's eyes differentiating them.

  "Only in the broadest sense," Captain Gynefra said, coming up to join them so the two girls were framed between her and Mrillis. "They possess so much imbrose, matched with their weaponry skills, they make the strongest Valors in the Warhawk's service seem like clumsy little children, with sleight-of-hand tricks instead of true magic."

  Megassa nodded, frowning, duly impressed. Meghianna nodded once, her frown deepening, before turning around in her saddle again.

  "They're weaving a basket, high up in the air," the older girl reported after a moment. "To trap the people who were spying on us?"

  "Only if those people use magic of any sort to try to follow our trail," Mrillis said, nodding.

  "People want to hurt Wynystrys, or just steal it?"

  "There are as many answers to that question as there are enemies of Wynystrys and magic, the Rey'kil, the Warhawk, and Lygroes itself." He laughed when she rolled her eyes, mouth flattening for a moment in purely childish disgust for his rhetorical answer. It was good to know the child's spirits had returned to normal.

  Ahead of them, a shimmering haze formed in the air, framed between two saplings trimmed in a lacy haze of crimson and gold-edged leaves. Mrillis nodded, pleased at this sign that Wynystrys' guardians were satisfied that the travelers were safely out of reach and out of sight of anyone who could cause the island harm. He watched Megassa more than her sister, as their party approached the magic-laced doorway. The girl didn't react until they were only two horse-lengths away from it. Then she frowned and rubbed her arms, looked to her left and right, and finally saw the haze of magic in front of them. Her little mouth opened in surprise and wonder. He saw no greed, no real interest in the working of magic. That satisfied him just as much as this evidence that the regularly renewed spells to bind her imbrose did their job well. If the Estall blessed them, by the time Megassa reached adolescence, her inborn magical talents would be so stunted and limited, the spells would no longer be necessary. She would in effect be crippled, but only in the sense that a chicken was crippled by its clipped wings. Megassa would live a full life, with many opportunities to be satisfied and fulfilled, and protected from those who would harm her or use her to harm her father, her sister, all of Lygroes--much as chickens were protected from predators.

  Mrillis decided in that moment, watching the different reactions of the sisters, that he no longer cared for the metaphor equating Megassa with a chicken. She was no longer the child living in hiding and anonymity far away. He had come to care for her, and it pleased him that she wasn't afraid of him. It pleased him more to see the healing in Efrin, evidenced by the affection he showed both his daughters. Megassa had helped to bring that about. Mrillis hoped that one day she would be her father's support and comfort and guard, as equally as Meghianna. The world needed all those of the Warhawk's bloodline, if it was to survive the creeping pestilence of the Encindi presence.

  "It's a tunnel," Meghianna announced, when they stopped their horses so close to the shimmering doorway, the rippling surface of the magic haze nearly touched Mist's nose.

  Mrillis was pleased to see the mare was sensitive to the presence of the magic, but it didn't disturb her. After a few snorts and flaring of her nostrils, Mist ignored it and stood still so Meghianna could look her fill. Mrillis turned his gaze sideways so he could see the Threads, and was pleased to see the tendrils of imbrose Meghianna sent out as feelers, testing the magic.

  "A tunnel, yes. A temporary tunnel to Wynystrys," he said.

  "Then we won
't get on a ferry and cross the water to the island?" Megassa said. "That's good. The horses won't get scared."

  "Oh, I doubt any of our horses would be frightened by a ride on the water," Gynefra said with a chuckle. She reached over to tousle Megassa's hair, earning a grin from the girl. "But good thinking, nonetheless. Always consider the smallest details. Those are usually the problems that trip us up, not the big obstacles."

  "How can you make a temporary tunnel?" Meghianna asked, her frown of concentration deepening. "How can you hold it open without anchors and going through something?"

  "It is not yet a complete tunnel. There are doorways here and at Wynystrys. When High Scholar Deyral and I join our imbrose through the Threads, the tunnel will open. We will go through this doorway and out the other in a matter of seconds. Barely long enough for our horses to even notice what is happening," he added, with a glance and a grin for Gynefra.

  "But how do you do it?" Meghianna persisted.

  "I will teach you on the journey to the Stronghold," Mrillis said. It warmed him when the child tore her gaze away from the doorway, her eyes wide with delight as she smiled at him. He dared hope she was pleased that he would accompany her on the journey home, more than the prospect of learning a complex spell.

  He did not look forward to relating the complexities of the temporary tunnel. Not because he feared Meghianna wouldn't be able to understand it, but because of the story behind the discovery of the magic. He had used the rediscovered magic to speed his journey across Lygroes, from one coast to the other, to reach Ceera's side as she lay dying. No matter how dry and simple a tale he tried to make it, he feared Meghianna's sensitivity would see through to the pain that remained under the scar in his soul. Mrillis had lived with the pain and loss of his wife and daughter for eight years now. What he feared more was exposing Meghianna to such depths of loss and evil and hatred at such an early age.