Heart of Valor - V1 Dec 2004

by Lisa Jane Smith

  The sorceress had come up the stairs so softly that no one had noticed her.

  “The birds—” began Claudia, and stopped.

  Janie winced. Morgana had given Claudia the charm to allow her to speak to the vixen outside the old house. Within the walls of Fell Andred all true languages were the same, but the charm was supposed to enable Claudia to understand the vixen anywhere. The bit about all animals had been Janie’s idea, and she had quietly incised one extra line on the bloodstone when Morgana wasn’t looking. Somewhat to her surprise it had worked.

  “The birds?” repeated Morgana, settling into utter still ness. Then she swiftly crossed the room and lifted the amulet on its chain out of Claudia’s shirt. She studied it for a moment, front and back, and her eyebrows went up.

  “Janie,” she said, over her shoulder, without looking at that young lady.

  “Uh … yes, madam?”

  “We’ll discuss this later.”

  Janie wilted. “Yes, madam.”

  Morgana weighed the amulet in her hand, started to lift it off Claudia’s neck. She stopped. Claudia was gazing up at her, mouth slightly open, distress and naked pleading in her eyes. The sorceress shook her head slightly, sighed, and tucked the charm back inside Claudia’s shirt.

  Alys, meanwhile, was feeling ashamed. She made an effort. “I’m sorry, Janie,” she said. “I guess I’m still a little upset. You were right to get them out of school.”

  “What’re you so upset about?” said Charles cheerfully. “It was only an earthquake.”

  “Yes,” said Alys, under her breath, “but was it only an earthquake?” She raised her eyes to Morgana. “On the radio at home they’re saying that there’ve been quakes all up and down the line of the San Andreas fault. No real damage anywhere, but tremors all the way up to San Francisco. Nothing like it has ever happened before—the seismologists can’t explain it.”

  “I daresay they can’t. But, of course, they’re looking at it from the wrong point of view. Not ‘all along the line of the fault’—all along the line of the Passage.”

  “The Passage to the Wildworld?” cried Charles. “You mean it’s coming open?”

  “Not beneath your feet,” said Morgana dryly. “But you must realize that the Western Passage was not always confined to the mirrors in this house. Originally, it ran all the way up the coast to the Wildworld city of Weerien, the seat of the Weerul Council—in the same area as San Francisco is in this world. When the Council decreed that all the Passages between the worlds be closed I realized I would have to find some way to shorten it, to concentrate its power, if I wanted to keep it open. Those were the Council’s terms: I could remain here in my husband’s world if I could tame the Passage enough to guarantee that no one but I myself could use it.”

  “So you made the mirrors…” said Alys softly. “But now that they’re broken—”

  “If you remember, I broke the mirrors and closed the Passage on the night of the solstice itself, with the moon still rising in the sky. The resistance was terrible.”

  Alys shivered. It had been a year and a half, but the details of that night, the night she and Charles and Janie and Claudia had helped turn back an army of invading sorcerei, were burned into her memory forever. They very nearly hadn’t been able to do it, very nearly hadn’t found Morgana to free her from Cadal Forge’s spell. If not for Janie, who had finally thought to look in the least likely place of all, Cadal Forge would have won. Cadal Forge the master sorcerer, the Red Staff wielder, the madman who hated all humans, would have won.

  Morgana’s voice drew Alys’s attention back to the present.

  “And now, although the mirrors are broken forever, and there is no chance of the Passage reopening here, I fear that farther north it may be unstable. Especially if—someone— is trying to force it open.”

  “Someone?” Alys said. The chill she felt this time was deeper. Cadal Forge had been formidable in his madness, almost invincible, but there was someone worse, someone who was trusted throughout the Wildworld, who sat on the Council itself, who would never be suspected of treachery. Someone utterly sane and utterly ruthless and right this minute free in the human world.

  She made her voice work, flatly. “Thia Pendriel.”

  Everyone in the kitchen had gone quiet; even Janie’s purple eyes were grim. Alys would have bet that they were all picturing the tall councillor, remembering her sweet persuasive voice and her deep red hair and her staff of twisted silver. She was almost a felt presence among them.

  “Thia Pendriel,” agreed Morgana, her voice equally flat. “Who else? She now has not only her staff but also the Gem she has stolen. With those together there is little beyond her power.”

  “It’s just that it’s been so long … and we didn’t hear anything about her. … I thought that maybe—”

  “She had died or departed? No. A sorceress of her stature is not killed easily. And where would she go except back to Findahl? But for that she needs a Passage.”

  Of all the sorcerei only Thia Pendriel, Silver Guildmistress and Morgana’s age-old enemy, had escaped being forced back into the Wildworld when they had shut the mirrors. She had disappeared into the dark and silence outside Fell Andred. But first she had stolen the Gem of Power which Cadal Forge had brought to wreak his vengeance on the human world, she had stolen Heart of Valor. A fistful of red ice, an uncut ruby the size of a plum. One of the Forgotten Gems. With it, she had power almost beyond imagination.

  “But, why?” Alys burst out, frustrated. “Why does she want to go back now, Morgana? Why did she even come here in the first place? She could have taken the Gem from Cadal Forge any time in the Wildworld. Why come all the way into the human world only to get trapped and then leave without accomplishing anything?”

  “I have thought on that,” said Morgana. “And in these last few days I fear I have found the answer. You are wrong to say she has accomplished nothing, Alys. Just this last week she has done something I would not have thought possible. And there is more she means to do … if she is not stopped.

  “And that, children,” said Morgana, straightening and looking at all of them levelly, “is why I have sent for you today. To bid you good-bye. I must go north, must stop her—if it can be done.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Tonight. If I am right there is little time left, a few days at most.”

  “But what is it she’s doing? What do you have to stop?”

  Morgana glanced at Janie, then, slowly, turned back to Alys. “I think,” she said, “that it is best if you do not know that. Even as it is, I am not happy about leaving you here. Things are astir. There are—but never mind. You have your parents’ protection, and you will have the vixen. You will not be alone.”

  The vixen had struggled out of Claudia’s arms to sit on the table when Morgana appeared. Now the fur on her back lifted.

  “What do you mean ‘they will have the vixen’?” she said suspiciously.

  “I leave you in charge,” said Morgana, still addressing Alys. Janie raised her eyebrows but said nothing. “Try not to do anything foolish. I will give Janie a way of summoning me back, in case of direst need. But that means a matter of life or death, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” said Alys.

  “What do you mean, ‘they will have the vixen’?” said the vixen, louder.

  “You should have no reason to use it. Any ill to come should come in the north.”

  “What do you mean, ‘they will have the vixen’?”

  “I should think that would be plain enough!” snapped Morgana, rounding on her. “I mean that I am leaving you here.”

  “I will not be left.”

  “You will do as I say, and you will stop arguing about it.”

  The vixen’s eyes were narrow slits of gold. Her tail was bristling.

  “You may need my help—”

  “I’ll have to manage without it.”

  “By the bond we share—”

  “By the bond yo
u wear! You have no choice but to obey me.”

  The vixen seemed to flinch under the golden collar, but she tried again. “I won’t have you going off alone,” she grumbled.

  “How many times must I say it? You are my familiar, not the head of my Guild! You are bound to my service and you will do as I say. “

  There was a long silence while the vixen and the sorceress fought it out, eye to eye. Then, in a sudden fluid motion, the vixen leaped off the table and was out of the kitchen. Alys cringed in embarrassment.

  Morgana let out her breath.

  “You will have the vixen,” she repeated, not looking at anyone. “And your parents. You will not be alone.”

  Alys glanced at the others. Charles was looking at her. Claudia was fingering the amulet, her face closed and tense, like someone watching her parents have a fight. Janie was expressionless.

  “Sure,” Alys said hollowly. “We’ll be fine.”

  Morgana let out another breath, almost like a sigh. Usually, despite her diminutive stature, the sorceress seemed fearfully and thoroughly adult. But just now to Alys she appeared more like a young girl, a girl with a cloud of dark hair and a pale, drawn face.

  “We’ll be fine,” said Alys again, more convincingly. On impulse, she laid her hand on Morgana’s arm—and flinched. A tingling had shot down her arm through her hand, leaping to Morgana. Morgana also flinched, and the young girl was gone. The sorceress looked at Alys sharply and frowned.

  “North,” Charles was musing, unaware of this byplay. “North, eh? I don’t suppose you’ll run into Elwyn.”

  “What?” said Morgana, distracted, turning the frown on him.

  “Uh, Elwyn,” said Charles, rubbing his forehead and looking very casual. “You know, when she left, she said she was going north. She said she wanted to visit Holly’s Wood.”

  “And? So?”

  “Well, if you do run into her … well, I just thought—you could … uh … say ‘hi.’ “

  The greatest sorceress since Darion the Nightweaver looked down at him for a long moment in silence. Charles withered.

  “I think,” she said at last, “that you would be well advised to forget my half sister. I doubt very much if she remembers you. And if she does—” Morgana suddenly leaned forward and brushed the hair off Charles’s face. “Hmmf!” she said uncommunicatively, staring at him.

  Charles was red and choking. “I didn’t mean—I don’t care—”

  “As well you don’t. Janie, I will need to do some study before I go. Come, please.” She headed for the library.

  Still sputtering, Charles gathered himself up with affronted dignity. “I—I—well, what are you two looking at? And—and anyway, why didn’t you tell her?” he said, turning on Alys.

  “Tell her what? Oh! That. I suppose,” said Alys slowly, “because I was afraid if I did tell her she might feel she had to stay. And I think,”—even more slowly—“that perhaps she really needs to go.”

  They stayed in the kitchen until dinnertime. When they left Alys stopped by the library door, which was ajar. She didn’t dare open it, for fear of letting little green things out. About to knock, she was arrested by the sound of Morgana’s voice.

  “—keeping a very close watch,” Morgana was saying earnestly. “There are signs only a sister would note. I might stay a little longer. The danger will—”

  But Alys was tired of being dishonest. She could bear to eavesdrop no more. She knocked, loudly.

  “I—I’ve just come to say that we’re leaving,” she said, looking around the door at Morgana’s summons. “Don’t stay too late, Janie.”

  Janie looked noncommittal.

  “Good-bye, Morgana. And—good luck.”

  The little sorceress, wielder of a Gold Staff, smiled across the room at her. “Thank you,” she said, not dryly but quite seriously. “I will need it. But all may yet be well. Watch over them, Alys.”

  “Uh, I’ll try,” said Alys. There were times when you forgot for weeks why you had ever liked Morgana, and then you suddenly were reminded, and you didn’t know what to do. Alys was caught between the impulse to hug her, to curtsey, and to cry. Instead, she blurted out, “Good-bye!” and fled.

  Their own house looked small and flat and ordinary after Morgana’s. But at the foot of their driveway, Charles gave an exclamation and seized Alys’s arm.

  “Look! Did you see that?”

  “What?”

  “On the roof—by the chimney. A sort of black thing. Furry. There—it’s gone now. I guess it was a cat.”

  Alys felt uneasy. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure I’m sure. What else would it be?” He grinned suddenly, his usual high spirits returning. “Black beavers from Mordor?”

  Alys waved this away, annoyed. But, inside, she looked up the fireplace. The flue was shut. She flipped it back and forth a few times, frowning.

  “Hey, Alys,” came Charles’s voice from the kitchen. “Do you think we should, like, check for gas leaks or something? Because they say after an earthquake—”

  “I already did,” she answered, joining him. “And I checked the water heater and I left a message on the answering machine saying we were all right, in case anybody called. That’s why I was so late.”

  “Good old Alys,” said Charles affectionately. “You’re so responsible.”

  Yes, good old Alys, thought Alys bleakly. Responsible old Alys, who had opened a door she was never supposed to have opened and ruined Morgana’s spell. Reliable old Alys, who had touched something she shouldn’t have touched. Honest old Alys, who had told two major lies today, and even now she wasn’t sure which of the two was worse.

  Practical old Alys, who was now going to make dinner because otherwise there wasn’t going to be any dinner, she thought, heading Charles off at the refrigerator. There she paused, grasping the handle, her eyes on the itinerary held to the refrigerator door by a magnet. April 24-27: Bangkok.

  The Oriental Hotel

  it read. April 27-29: Chiang Mai. The Royal Orchid. April 29-May 2: Ban Chiang. Private accommodation provided … Bon voyage, Mom and Dad, she thought, missing them terribly. Then, absentmindedly rubbing her arm, she reached in to get some hamburger.

  FOUR

  Talisman

  Alys swatted at the offending alarm clock, then looked at it blearily and groaned. She felt as if she hadn’t gotten ten minutes of solid sleep last night. And her arm and shoulder were stiff—she must have lain on them wrong.

  She kept working them to get the kinks out as she washed and dressed. The silence downstairs gave her some misgivings, but when she reached the kitchen she found her three siblings scrubbed and shining, placidly eating breakfast. The illusion of domestic comfort was dispelled when she got a closer look.

  “Not right out of the jar, Claudia,” she said, rescuing a spoon and the strawberry preserves from her youngest sister.

  Claudia wiggled helplessly, waving sticky fingers in the air as Alys applied a dishtowel to her face.

  “Charles put chocolate chips in his cereal,” she said darkly, emerging from the towel.

  “Don’t you think you’re sort of overdoing the protective older sister bit?” asked Charles as Alys peered into his bowl and confiscated it. He poured chocolate chips directly from the bag into his mouth.

  “The only reason Mrs. Delveccio isn’t staying here right now is that I promised Mom and Dad I could make you eat Properly and take a bath everyday. But, obviously—”

  “Anyway, Janie didn’t get in until two o’clock in the morning,” said Charles quickly, eager to spread the blame over as wide an area as possible.

  “What? Janie, is that true?”

  Janie continued to spoon cereal calmly into her mouth without looking up from the book she had propped open before her. “Yes.”

  “Why? What were you doing?”

  “Putting up wards around this house and Morgana’s, among other things.”

  “If Mom and Dad were here you wouldn’t dare, Janie. From now o
n you get in at a decent hour. Understand?”

  Janie didn’t answer directly. Instead she gave Alys a cool and quizzical look. “What’s the matter with your arm?”

  Alys stopped kneading her shoulder. “Nothing’s the matter with my arm!” she almost shouted. After a moment she sighed and bowed her head. “Sorry.”

  Charles and Claudia had taken advantage of her distraction to make their escape with the chocolate chips. Heaving another sigh, Alys began to clear the table.

  “How do the wards work?” She spoke without looking at Janie, as she stacked bowls in the sink.

  “They’re like a—security system. They surround the entire house; two layers in a sort of octagon shape with one central anchor above. That way nothing can get in from outside unless we let it. They’ll also warn me automatically if something nasty gets too near.”

  “Janie. What is Morgana so afraid of?”

  There was a pause. “It’s quite normal for a sorceress to set wards around her house when she has to leave… .”

  Alys turned around and looked at her.

  “All right, you’re right. She is afraid. But I don’t know why! That’s the truth, Alys. She didn’t tell me.

  “She did say one thing,” Janie added. “At the time of the earthquake the Passage opened, just for an instant. And Morgana sensed that something—or things—came through from the Wildworld. Of course, they might not be harmful things, but when you’re dealing with the Wildfolk it’s better to be safe.”

  “If it was just open for an instant—”

  “Alys, the Passage is over five hundred miles long. It runs almost exactly along the line of the San Andreas fault. It’s there because that’s where two pieces of the earth’s crust come together—and please don’t ask me why until you’ve studied plate tectonics! And with all that length opening up, even just for an instant, it’s hardly surprising that something somewhere got through.”

  “But not around here, surely. Morgana said the one place the Passage was shut tight was right here.”

  “Magic is drawn to magic. And right now there are only three hot spots of magic in California: Morgana, wherever she is, and Thia Pendriel, wherever she is, and us!”