by Sharon Lee
“If Lady Tocohl has absorbed Tinsori Light, would she not also have—”
“Doesn’t work like that,” Tolly interrupted. “There’s reasons. I’m willing to explain them ’til your eyes cross after we get this bit sorted out. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Surebleak
“Miri.”
A firm hand pressed into her shoulder. She didn’t look up; couldn’t quite look away from that calm and peaceful face. Ordinary looking man, Ren Zel—neat brown hair, regular features, smooth, unblemished gold-toned skin…Clan member aside—she’d liked him; had already come to depend on him. Steady and quiet and competent…
…Dead now. By her hand.
“Child…”
She placed the voice now. Aelliana Caylon.
“We had an agreement,” she said to the unspoken question. “It was too much, what he could do—what he could potentially do. Too much power for one man. I thought so and—it weighed on him. I think that, anyway. Figured I’d have to kill him some day. Guess he heard me think it.
“He said he agreed with me and said that he would tell me when.”
“Which promise he kept,” Aelliana murmured. “All of us heard him accept necessity, and you made him a quick ending, a mercy, from kin to kin.
“Stand up now, child.”
Aelliana took her arm, and Miri let herself be pulled to her feet.
Anthora was shivering in Val Con’s arm. He raised his head and met Miri’s eyes over the tangle of his sister’s hair.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said in answer to that look. “I think, given we’re standing here—he must’ve done what was needful.”
He nodded, and looked down.
“Sister, tell me what you would have me do.”
She shuddered.
“I would have you ask the Tree if the battle has been won.”
“Yes, I will do that. But for you, this moment—what will you?”
“Ask the Tree,” Anthora said again, her voice painfully steady, “for once you have the answer, I will kill it.” She took a hard breath.
There was a moment of maybe-shocked silence, broken by Daav.
“I understand entirely. I have myself sworn to do so on several occasions, and once went so far as to carry an ax into the Tree Court.”
He paused, head tipped to a side, considering. Aelliana took his hand and he smiled, very slightly.
“My lifemate had been murdered and, after much thought down many sleepless nights, I concluded that the Tree was complicit.”
He moved his shoulders, his expression wry.
“Even then, it persuaded me otherwise.”
“It will not so persuade me,” Anthora said grimly. “It would have it that we are dear, and necessary to it—yet I asked one boon, which it might have granted…”
She shook her head and straightened. Val Con let her go.
“Will you ask, Brother?” she demanded. “For I mean to end the Tree this night.”
“Is that well done, Beloved?” came a soft voice from behind.
Miri spun. Anthora squeaked.
Ren Zel was sitting calmly cross-legged on the floor, smiling slightly, an echo of green nimbus fading to nothing about him.
“Though I think you are correct that we must go to the Tree Court. At once, and all of us,” Ren Zel finished.
Val Con stepped forward to offer a hand.
“Have you given us a victory, Brother?”
Ren Zel took the offered hand, and Val Con pulled him to his feet. He looked tired, Miri thought, and worn so thin she could just about see through him.
But he was alive.
Alive.
“The sheriekas last work has been vanquished, the Shadow repulsed, the universal rift sealed. The threads have re-formed, and the song of life is strong.” Ren Zel stopped, puzzlement entering his eyes. “What did I say?”
“You said,” Val Con told him firmly, “that we must to the Tree Court. Sister.”
Anthora stepped forward, and gently took her lifemate’s arm.
He smiled at her. “Beloved.”
“Ren Zel,” she breathed, putting her hand briefly against his cheek. “You are exhausted.”
“And you,” he answered. “Let us to the Tree. After, we may sleep.”
Miri offered Val Con her arm. He bent and kissed her cheek.
“Cha’trez,” he murmured. “Thank you.”
* * *
The Tree Court had never in his memory been so disheveled.
Dead leaves were ankle-high; small branches were down everywhere; one, somewhat larger, had fallen across the viewing bench, by the gloan-roses, knocking the slats askew.
The six of them paused uncertainly at the edge of the Court. Miri stirred first.
“You okay, Tree?”
A subdued rustle was her somber answer, as if the Tree’d just woken up the morning after a raging storm.
“Are you well?” Miri demanded again, and the Tree was suddenly focused, the mood changed as if it was chuckling sleepily at a child’s pleasantry.
Val Con walked forward, leaves crunching beneath his feet. He put his hands against the trunk, which was noticeably cool. He took a breath against a thrill of alarm, and deliberately relaxed.
“What have you been about?” he murmured, gently chiding. “Chasing sheriekas at your time in life?”
A sense of profound satisfaction filled him, and not a little martial pride. In his mind’s eye, a wicked roiling cloud arose, sweeping into a tear in what sort of fabric he dared not guess. Beyond the tear was a hard gleam—as of ice.
Or crystal.
The cloud filled the rift, obscuring the other side. A towering rage of fecund green fell across it, as a bolt of perfect gold struck the rift and spread out, healing the wound with its own essence.
“I see. Are you well? What must we do for you?”
A small breeze bestirred itself to ruffle his hair. An image formed of Ren Zel and Anthora as they stood behind him, arms about each other’s waists.
He stood back.
“Sister. Brother. The Tree desires your attention.”
They stepped forward obediently and halted, neither putting hand to trunk.
“No,” Anthora said, sounding subdued. “Not tonight. I am exhausted. Let us discuss it tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Ren Zel added. “You were indeed glorious. I would not have succeeded at the last without you.”
From above—rustling and the sound of several objects slicing through leaves, the noise getting louder as they fell.
Ren Zel extended his free hand; Anthora hers. Each caught their pod neatly.
They bowed.
“Good evening,” said Ren Zel.
They turned, pods still in hand, and it was Anthora who spoke this time.
“We will retire now, and tomorrow, Val Con-brother, we shall to the Healers. Unless we will be needed?”
Val Con shook his head.
“Do as you must. Do you require a Healer tonight? We may—”
“Tonight,” Ren Zel interrupted softly, “we will rest.”
He smiled wanly.
“And soon.”
“Dying’s bound to take it out of you,” Miri said, “’specially after saving the universe.”
“Yes.” The smile widened as he turned to her. “Thank you, Miri.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s just not do it again.”
“Agreed,” he said. “It will not be necessary.”
Aelliana stirred.
“As we do not seem to be required here, allow us to walk with you.”
“Yes,” said Anthora.
“Thank you,” Ren Zel said again, and the four of them left the Tree Court.
Val Con sighed.
“We will,” he said, addressing the Tree, “survey your situation in the light of day and gather up the debris, unless you deem it necessary to your comfort. If there is nothing else we may do for you immediately, we, too, will return to the house and
rest.”
Another breeze stirred, kissing his cheek, and Miri’s, accompanying a clear sense of dismissal. The Tree, he gathered, wanted to rest.
“Very well, then,” he said.
Miri took his hand, and together they quit the Tree Court.
* * * * *
They four were halfway up the stairs when there were footsteps on the landing above and down came Theo.
She was moving quickly, expression abstracted, perhaps intent on dessert. She nodded politely to Ren Zel, Anthora, and Aelliana, who were in the lead, looked past them—and stopped, staring.
Aelliana did not pause, but urged her charges upward.
“Father?” Shock, dismay, and disbelief packed into that single word, Daav thought. A balanced reaction.
“Good evening, Theo,” he said calmly.
“What happened to you?”
Van’chela, give us half an hour over a glass of wine, please, then come to us in the small parlor, he said, as Aelliana reached the landing above.
Yes, she replied, and added ruefully, Best to get it done with, I suppose.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to you?” Theo demanded, warily approaching by one step, as if he might vanish or leap up and bite her.
“Yes,” he said agreeably. “I am going to tell you exactly what happened. As it is rather a long tale, and entirely unbelievable in very large measure, I suggest that we retire to the small parlor, where we will be undisturbed.”
She took a hard breath and gave him a tight nod.
“All right.”
“Excellent. Jeeves, will you please ask Mr. pel’Kana to bring wine and a tray to the small parlor?”
“Yes, sir,” said Jeeves.
“I’m not hungry,” said Theo.
“That may well be so,” Daav said, turning to walk down the stairs. “I, however, missed my dinner.”
Surebleak
“Good morning, Jeeves,” Val Con said, as he entered the delm’s office next morning. “Is there anything I should know?”
“Chandra Marudas lifted ten hours ago, course filed for Nev’Lorn. Vivulonj Prosperu lifted eight hours ago, course filed for Edmonton Beacon. Spiral Dance has landed at Korval’s Yard,” Jeeves said obligingly.
Val Con nodded and went to the buffet to pour a cup of tea. Sipping, he looked out over the garden. It was one of Surebleak’s rare sunny and cloudless mornings, the lack of clouds meaning that the temperature would be appallingly cold. Despite this, Grakow and Paizel were pacing down the lawn, shoulder to shoulder and tails straight out behind.
“Tommy Lee has driven a car into the city. He will first stop at the Healer Hall, then proceed to Lady Kareen’s town house,” Jeeves continued.
“Captain Waitley is meeting with her crew regarding the future of the ship. Commander Relgen, of Relgen’s Raiders, will be arriving this afternoon with her second, to interview the pathfinders. Nelirikk has been alerted. There are two pinbeam communications in queue, from Korval’s daughter Tocohl Lorlin, and also from Jen Sin yos’Phelium.”
Val Con paused with his cup halfway to his mouth.
“Say again?” he said, a tiny tendril of dread starting to uncoil in his belly. Saving the universe was a chancy business, after all; who knew but that time had been fractured in the doing of it.
Or that Jeeves had run mad.
“I have two pinbeam messages in queue,” Jeeves repeated, sounding not in the least mad, “the first from Tocohl Lorlin, the second from Jen Sin yos’Phelium, who signs himself Chief Keeper, Tinsori Light.”
Worse and worse.
Val Con put his teacup down on the table and turned from the window to face into the room.
“Jen Sin yos’Phelium is two hundred years dead,” he said conversationally. “Tinsori Light…is no longer in use.”
“I regret, sir, but it would appear that Jen Sin yos’Phelium was merely temporarily misplaced and Tinsori Light has been…rehabilitated. May I suggest you hear Tocohl’s message first?”
Val Con walked to his desk, pulled out the chair, picked Fondi up, sat down, and put the cat on his lap. Fondi uttered a sleepy purr, stretched out his toes, and flipped his tail over his nose.
“Thank you,” he said. “I will hear Tocohl’s message first, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a brief pause before the voice of his foster-mother—no, he corrected himself—the voice of Korval’s daughter, Tocohl, was heard.
“Greetings to Korval from Tocohl Lorlin, their devoted daughter. I have accomplished the task to which you assigned me and report that Admiral Bunter has been satisfactorily reestablished in a fitting and stable environment. He currently travels with the Free Ships, and Mentor Jones is confident that he will, after a period of readjustment, take on crew and become an asset to society.
“After the completion of this task, I was importuned by Mentor Inkirani Yo, who met our expedition at Jemiatha Station and assisted with the transfer of the Admiral to his new environment. Mentor Yo was an agent of the Lyre Institute, assigned to follow the rumors of an awakening Old One, and to attach him to the Institute’s interests.”
There was a pause, as if Tocohl was considering how best to continue.
“In this, her last mission, she failed,” came the bald statement. “Tinsori Light was entangled with both the pre-Migration universe and our own, a situation which was potentially catastrophic. In addition, his physical environment was composed of original fractin racks, which were badly degraded after such a passage of time.”
Another pause, following what might have been an in-drawn breath.
“I determined that Tinsori Light was a danger to himself and the existence of two universes and I…subverted him, claiming control of his systems. During this period there was an accidental anomaly…which may in fact…have resulted in one universe being destroyed. If so, it was not ours. I append all pertinent records and readings. Having survived this anomaly with the rest of the universe, I am, in practice and in fact, Tinsori Light, securing the station in the name of Korval.”
Val Con closed his eyes.
“Two human staff have been serving on the station for many Standards and have been instrumental in preventing the Light, a work of the Great Enemy, from wreaking greater mischief than it has done. I have confirmed the identity of one of those light keepers, Jen Sin yos’Phelium. As the station is Korval’s, he is presently chief light keeper; the other staff, called Lorith, is second light keeper. They profess themselves willing to remain in these positions. More permanent arrangements, of course, wait upon the Delm’s Word. I assure you that Tinsori Light is stable and eager to serve the needs of the clan.
“Transmission ends.”
Gods, Val Con thought. He took a deep breath, spun the Scout’s Rainbow inside his head, and glanced toward the ceiling.
“I will hear Keeper yos’Phelium’s message now, please, Jeeves.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jen Sin yos’Phelium, Korval pilot, and lately light keeper at Tinsori, offers greeting to the delm.”
Jen Sin yos’Phelium sounded collected, even cool, his accent antique but clear. Val Con settled into the chair and put a hand on Fondi’s back.
“I stand temporarily as chief light keeper, administering the station in Korval’s name until permanent assignments have been made. This is a first status report.
“The station is in generally good repair, though in need of upgrade to meet present standards, most especially on the docks and in hydroponics. One section of the ring was damaged at some point before my tenure here and is in need of reconstruction. At present, we are secure; the seals hold and show no undue wear.
“Station organic population includes myself and Light Keeper Lorith, Korval House soldier Hazenthull, Mentor Tollance Berik-Jones. Lady Tocohl Lorlin, daughter of Korval, has secured station systems and holds strong. We presently have two ships at dock. Korval ship Tarigan and Ahab-Esais, which I am informed is a ship belonging the Lyre Institute.
“Guidance is sought in the disposition of the Institute’s ship. Mentor Jones offers that he may be able to contact one of the Free Ships and ask that Ahab-Esais be taken away from here before another operative is sent to find it. Mentor Jones stresses that the Lyre Institute remains an active threat to this station and its personnel.”
There was a pause.
“I stand ready, as ever, to serve Korval, and will answer to the best of my abilities such questions as the delm may have. It would be helpful to know the delm’s plans for this facility, and to receive a schedule for repair and upgrade.
“Chief Light Keeper Jen Sin yos’Phelium—out.”
Val Con counted, slowly, to one hundred forty-four.
“Jeeves, please provide me with your files on Tinsori Light, including its current location with reference to active trade routes. Please assure Tocohl and the light keepers that the delm has received their messages and is examining the Light’s situation and needs in view of the clan’s available resources. I would appreciate your advice regarding the proper disposal of the ship belonging to the Lyre Institute.”
“Yes, sir. I believe that Tolly Jones’s suggestion that Ahab-Esais be removed by a Free Ship and set loose, perhaps at Edmonton Beacon or some similar place, has merit. This will not prevent other agents of the Lyre Institute trying the Light, but it may delay their onset.”
“Regarding location, sir…Tinsori Light is fixed inconveniently in terms of trade. I suggest that Korval would be best served by maintaining it as a port for Free Ships and their allies, as well as Korval ships and allies.”
“Your reasoning regarding the Free Ships?”
“In light of your judgment regarding independent logics, there will be a need for a known port, a gathering place, and a safe zone for meeting and negotiating with other intelligences.”
The judgment, Val Con thought, and shivered.
Well, he had wanted it to be as broad as possible.
“Thank you, Jeeves,” he said calmly. “If you have not already done so, please share the pertinent judgment with Tinsori Light. Regarding the Free Ships, I will bring your suggestion to my discussions with the delmae.”
