Part 28 (1/2)

”When the tales are put away and men read them no longer?” Phoebe looked up from where she was stirring the thinnest of the three fluids with the end of her horn. She spoke in a halting voice, the unfamiliar words of a new language setting heavy on her lips.

”If the creation has by that time not achieved a sufficient vitality of its own, if it has flaws and inconsistencies like a poorly constructed watch, it will eventually run down and be compressed back into the nothingness of the sea-just as you saw with the attempt of the demon.” Nimbia paused and her eyes widened. ”But if

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the construction has been a sufficiently skilled one, with sentient beings of its own that believe in themselves, in their own existence, then the realm remains. Those inside provide the outward pressure that keeps the crus.h.i.+ng forces of the all-enveloping sea at bay-a true creation of great art.

”That is what we strive for. It is the ultimate goal to which any fey can aspire-to create a new realm equal to our own, one that exists in and of itself, with all the thought being provided from inside, rather than the continued attention of those who first brought it into life.

”You saw the vitality of my creation when viewed through the circle of djinns. It lived, lived of its own volition! There should have been no way for Finvarwin to judge it inferior to empty motions of Prydwin's-despite the fact that what I did was accomplished without a mate.”

”If you think the outcome of your efforts not to be fairly determined,” Astron said, ”then why do you try? Surely, with all that you command, there are other amus.e.m.e.nts that would serve as well.”

Nimbia shook her head slowly. ”There is nothing to compare to the joy of creation,” she said. ”The sense of accomplishment of bringing into being an existence out of the void. To be denied that pleasure is the greatest penalty that the high king can exact.”

She waved her arm about the throne room. ”The melancholy is not only my own. Even though only a king or queen is able to force a realm to spring from the void, everyone who serves contributes their thoughts to make it grow. They all savor the feeling of accomplishment, the thrill and wonder when the realm takes on a sense of being of its own, the pride when other underbills view what they have wrought.”

Nimbia shook her head a second time. Fresh tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. ”It is the duty of a hillsovereign to provide the basis, so that all can share. Her own sadness is all the greater because she must bear the responsibility of so many in addition to her own.” ”Duty,” Astron said. ”Is not that from the subject to

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the prince? You seem to state that it is the other-”

”The other realms have witnessed this melancholy, although they do not understand.” Nimbia ran on, apparently not hearing the interruption. ”In times past, other underhills unable or forbidden to create on their own have been reduced to merely watching. But just to observe realms who owe none of their existence to your craft makes the restrictions all the more heartpiercing. Usually we remain underground, so as to block out even the hint of pipes from others who are more fortunate.”

”Then you do look into the realm of men,” Kestrel said. ”It could be that our tales are not by mere luck the same after all.”

”My own underhill has not viewed the affairs of humans,” Nimbia said, ”but that does not preclude the actions of many others. And as you probably have surmised, the ring of djinns can be seen through from either side. No doubt if you have legends of strange beings, piping music, and forced gaiety appearing out of the mists and then vanis.h.i.+ng again, it is because of the fey.”

Nimbia stopped speaking. She dabbed at one tear on her cheek and stared off into the distance, apparently consumed by her own innermost thoughts.

”We asked before about the ultimate precept,” Astron said after a moment. ”Could it be that it too plays a part in the construction of these creations?”

Nimbia looked back down at Astron. She slowly shook her head. ”Of such I have not heard,” she said. ”Our realm is governed by seven dictums of magic, like all the rest. The last two are those of dichotomy and ubiquity as you well know. They are the basis for the communication with the mighty djinns of your kind.”

”Then perhaps one of the others,” Astron said.

Nimbia rubbed her cheek dry and flicked back a golden curl over her shoulder. She shrugged again and began reciting, as if she were a broodmother instructing her latest clutch. ”Of the first I have already spoken-reality follows from pa.s.sion. Our temperaments are not placid, like those of the skyskirr. Instead, they are the

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fuel that fires our imaginations when we attempt to wrest

a new universe from the void.

”The second as simply stated-strength comes from the lattice-guides our thoughts as we try to create. It is easier to conceive of a realm with dictums of magic close to our own, rather than more exotic ones about whose existence we can only guess.

”The third is a warning-weakness comes from contradiction. As I have already explained, a realm will eventually wind down and stop, because the postulates that we use in its beginning do not mesh into a harmonious whole.

”Of the fourth, even you have probably heard enough -two is greater than one and one. Somehow, when we are paired as loving mates, the creations are more fertile, more exotic, more likely to live.