Part 30 (1/2)

”And the weapons?”

”They are the weapons of the Ascendants. We call them swords, Chosen, but they are much, much more than that; they understand the heart of their wielder, and they become the weapon of their wielder's choice. They cannot be broken; they cannot be stained.”

”So the Ascendants always have these weapons?”

”Yes.”

Kaylin frowned. ”How were the weapons made?”

”It is not recorded, Chosen.”

”But the Dragons made them?”

”The Dragons gifted the Ascendants with the weapons.”

It wasn't quite the same thing, but they clearly didn't have the answer. She glanced at Severn. Severn then asked the next question. ”Ask Mejrah if she was trained as a possible Ascendant.”

Kaylin repeated the question.

Effaron shook his head. ”Bellusdeo trained the Ascendants. When she was lost to us, the Elders attempted to teach what they had been taught. But without Bellusdeo there could be no more Ascendants, just the knowledge pa.s.sed down from the Elders who had once almost been chosen. Mejrah was schooled in that tradition.”

”When Mejrah was taught, was she ever shown images of the Dragon Queen? Were there paintings or sculptures or tapestries?” Severn said.

Kaylin repeated that one, as well, feeling more sympathy for Effaron's position as translator than she had in the past.

Mejrah's frown was more ferocious than Effaron's.

”She wants to know why you ask.”

”Funny,” Kaylin replied, ”so do I. Severn?”

His answer was both unexpected and, in the end, unsurprising. He removed the crystal the Arkon had constructed from its pouch at his side. This, he set between his knees on the carpet. ”You might want to warn them,” he told Kaylin.

Kaylin did as he suggested, watching Mejrah carefully. Mejrah was grumbling at one of the Elders when the crystal's image emerged and unfolded in front of Severn.

The old woman's eyes widened so much they became half white; her mouth opened, and she stared, slack jawed, for one frozen moment.

”Well,” Kaylin murmured. ”I guess that answers that question.”

Severn nodded.

CHAPTER 16.

Picking up the crystal again was more difficult than either Severn or Kaylin had considered when Severn had set it down. Mejrah's voice returned, and it was higher and louder than usual-which said something, because Mejrah had the makings of a Sergeant. It was also much faster. Effaron was shocked enough that he dropped Kaylin's hand, which meant Mejrah had to repeat it all once he'd recovered his grip on both his composure and said hand.

What it boiled down to was this: Mejrah wanted to keep it. Emphatically and forcefully.

In any other circ.u.mstance Kaylin would have let her have it, even given the cost of its creation. Unfortunately, the crystal had come from the Arkon, and the Arkon had made it very clear he wanted it back. Effaron understood every word Kaylin said. Mejrah understood every word Effaron said. Something, however, appeared to have been lost in the translation. Mejrah descended into pleading, which was far worse-on Kaylin's nerves-than threats or demands would have been.

It was also clearly shocking for most of the Norannir who were anywhere nearby. Given Mejrah's general mood, the Norannir were better at pretending they weren't eavesdropping than, say, the Office Barrani, but they were people. The two men that Kaylin also thought of as Elders didn't bother with the pretense. They joined Mejrah, kneeling to either side of her on the increasingly small rug.

After some very awkward back-and-forth, Kaylin turned to Severn. ”You caught all that?”

He nodded.

”Okay. As near as I can tell, they understand that a) this is very important to one of our Dragons and, b) their reverence for their Dragon trumps our desire to save our own necks. Am I missing something?”

Severn chuckled; it was pained, but he was genuinely amused. Easy for him, on the other hand; the Arkon never raised his voice at Severn. ”I think they a.s.sume that our reverence for our Dragons is nonexistent in comparison to their reverence for theirs. They don't hold Sanabalis or Tiamaris in the same reverence-or awe-they clearly feel for Bellusdeo.”

”Probably because they never met her,” Kaylin muttered. The only Norannir who could understand what she said grimaced. He didn't, on the other hand, repeat what she'd said so Mejrah could hear it, which meant she owed him one.

In the end, it was decided that Severn would leave the crystal with Mejrah until Lord Sanabalis-or the Arkon himself-returned, because Kaylin had no doubt whatsoever that one or both of the Dragons would want to speak with Mejrah about Bellusdeo. Kaylin took great pains to make sure Mejrah-and anyone else in hearing range of Effaron-understood that the crystal was on loan; it was not a gift, because neither she nor Severn owned it. The Elders could make their case to the Arkon, a Dragon who did not believe-in any way-that possession was nine-tenths of the Law.

But watching Mejrah's face as the old woman gathered the crystal in her shaking hands killed anything as petty as irritation. Her eyes were wide with something too painful to be wonder; they filmed in that particular way that eyes did when a person was determined not to cry and only partly succeeding. The two older men were silent, but one wept openly.

It was almost worth the Arkon's ire. She promised herself she'd try to remember this when she was actually exposed to it.

Tara spoke once they were far enough away from the Norannir border post. ”I don't think the Arkon will approve.”

”I wouldn't take that bet,” Kaylin replied. ”But...you saw their faces, Tara.”

”I did. I think we should return to the Tower.”

”We haven't even begun. The Arkon thinks we're missing two bodies.”

”We didn't search for the other seven; they came to us.”

”No. But no one's mentioned eight or nine; I think the Arkon believes that they either haven't appeared yet, or they aren't corpses yet.”

”You saw the reaction the Norannir had to the crystal.” Kaylin nodded. ”If they find her corpse now, I'm not sure what will happen-but they'll certainly let us know. If they find her alive, somehow, their reaction will be exactly the opposite of most of the rest of the fief. Come on. We have two areas marked in the fief where the probability of storms while the borders were down were highest. Severn and I will head there. Do you want to go back to the Tower?”

”...No.”

The fief of Tiamaris was not the fief of Barren. The streets had more or less the same shape-and the same names, although Tara said that was going to change sometime in the near future. The buildings were more or less the same, where they still existed. Here and there, gaps yawned between standing structures. Tara obligingly explained why it had been necessary to demolish the missing buildings; they were infested. Some of the Shadows that had worked their way across the weakened boundaries had nested in those buildings-and often in the people who'd holed up in them.

”There are still some problems,” she added. ”My Lord, with the aid of the Norannir, has hunted down most of the remaining Shadows-but one or two are subtle. I'm not entirely certain they're still in the fief.”

Heart sinking, Kaylin said, ”You don't think they've returned to the heart of the fiefs, do you?”

”No. I think it's possible they've crossed the bridge. The only boundaries that cause them difficulty are the boundaries that the Towers make.”

There were others, as well, but Kaylin didn't see a reason to quibble. She glanced at Severn and mentally added it to the list of things that had probably already gone wrong when they weren't looking. She then took a look at a more literal note she'd made. ”We want to hit Whetstone and Tanner. The streets,” she added.

Whetstone and Tanner were on the way to what Tiamaris hoped would eventually be the fief's market. Three blocks from the heaviest construction in the fief, if you didn't count the border towers, three buildings had gone missing. ”Tara?”

”We didn't destroy those,” was the Avatar's quiet reply. ”If you look, you'll see. There's no sign of fire, no sign of burning.”