Song Magick (40 page)

“They gave me no time to prepare,” Telyn
responded with irritation. “They drew me to them in a dream. I have
had no problem shutting them out since then.”

“I don’t question your gifts,” Jona clarified
quickly, “merely your inexperience, for as you well know, opening
the mind entirely can be frightening. You should have Mithrais
serve as an anchor rather than be an active participant. It would
be the same for any Tauron initiate opening their mind fully to the
old ones for the first time.”

The bard agreed to his sensible precaution.
The memory of the grove beneath the springs was still strong in her
mind, the nightmare images of being lost still too close to the
surface, and she did not want to repeat the experience.

Telyn hesitated a moment more, recalling
Gwidion’s warning that the Gwaith’orn might keep the promises she
had exacted from them in ways that she did not expect. She could
only hope that there was no unwitting coda attached to the
agreement that she had made—the insistence upon free will seemed
clear enough to her, but what did it mean to the Gwaith’orn?

The Tauron were waiting for her to begin,
watching her. What a poor Wood Commander I make, she thought to
herself wryly, if I do not trust the Tauron’s most valuable allies.
Heaving a sigh, she shrugged slightly.

“Well, let’s do this, shall we?” Telyn said
lightly, and closed the distance between her and the tree. “What do
you think, Cormac? Do we make separate links to the Gwaith’orn, or
can we do it together?”

“We will try it together,” Cormac agreed.
“The more familiar we are with each other’s minds, the better we
will work in concert when the time comes.”

He offered his palm to her, and she met it,
linking her fingers through his. The young warden opened his mind
to her, welcoming and guileless, and she allowed him to enter hers.
They lingered in this initial contact a moment, acclimating to each
other’s thoughts. It was an easy, comfortable joining of minds.
Cormac’s presence reflected his confidence and composure-–this was
his task as well as hers, and something he had been prepared for
since childhood. He was ready to do whatever might be necessary to
fulfill the covenant. She also sensed his admiration for her, a
flattering crush that made Telyn smile at him in gratitude despite
her anxiety.

“Mithrais?” She offered her other hand to
him, and he clasped her wrist with a quick smile.

“Don’t be frightened,” he reassured her.
“Cormac swims through their consciousness like a fish through
water. He’ll lead you through it, and I will be there to lend a
hand if necessary.”

Cormac grinned at Mithrais’ praise, and
raised his other hand to complete the connection with the
Gwaith’orn, and Telyn mirrored his movement. She placed the hand
Mithrais grasped on the rough bark of the trunk and felt once more
the disconcerting warmth that pulsed beneath, as if the blood of
the Wood flowed through it.

Contact came immediately. She sensed through
their joined awareness one of Cormac’s unique abilities: to tap
directly into the tree folk’s consciousness without waiting for
acknowledgement. Simultaneously, she felt Cormac’s wonder at the
stirring of her song magic and the music that the words of the
Gwaith’orn created in her mind. There was an unexpected moment of
disorientation as some part of her gift reached out instinctively
to Cormac and made a secondary connection between them, filling
that blank place she touched while exerting her song magic.

Their individual gifts spiraled together and
seemed to blend into one purpose, and once combined, acted as a
catalyst that lent the Gwaith’orn an extraordinary aspect. Telyn
could feel their excitement, their anticipation and impatient
expectation of the fulfillment of the covenant. With Cormac’s
influence, she heard not one voice, but many voices speaking
together. She sensed that he was as surprised and startled as she
at the effect of their joined effort.

We greet the seed-voice and the
seed-speaker
, the Gwaith’orn said joyfully.
At last you are
together, and the time is near.

Thank you, old ones,
Cormac
responded.

We are preparing as best we can to do what
you ask
, Telyn told them.
Although you have shown me
something of what I must accomplish, I need to know more.
She
swallowed with difficulty, her mouth dry with fear.
I am willing
to open my mind to you, if it must be so.

We will not harm you.
For the first
time, she felt clearly their regret that they had frightened her.
You received our promise in this matter.

I realize that I must offer some measure of
trust to you in return for the promise you made me. But first, I
feel compelled to ask a question.

Ask.

Telyn steeled herself, phrasing her query to
avoid any accusation or resentment.
Why did you not tell us that
this has been attempted before?

There was a discernible pause, as if she had
taken them by surprise.

We did not sanction it. No heed was given
our warnings, and the deaths of so many of our faithful ones were
painful to us.
There was a series of signatures, an echo of her
lament, and Telyn realized with a start that the Gwaith’orn mourned
the loss of the Tauron.

You did not act to stop them.
She
could not help but think it.

We could not, against so great a summoning
of power.
There was a sigh in the voice; a deep regret which
pulsed so strongly Telyn imagined she could feel it in her bones.
Many over the seasons have held the gifts necessary to the
seed-speaker, but we chose not to impart the knowledge again until
it was time. We did what we could to ensure no others died in
vain.

Then there is still danger.
Telyn knew
the answer already, if the Gwaith’orn had not been able to help
Genefar, they would not be able to aid her attempt.

With magic, there is always danger. With
knowledge, the danger is negligible.

Telyn took a deep breath, and willed her
shields to lower in invitation.
Will you give me the knowledge
of how to accomplish this deed?

We will.
Their advances into her mind
were gentle and unthreatening, but Telyn felt herself stiffening,
her shields snapping back into place and nearly dislodging Cormac
and Mithrais from their links with her.

It will be all right, Telyn
, Cormac
reassured her, his silent voice calm and encouraging. Mithrais
tightened his fingers on her wrist, and murmured aloud, “You’re not
alone.”

You’re not alone
, the Gwaith’orn
echoed Mithrais across Telyn’s rapport with Cormac
. You are the
seed-voice.
Telyn swore she could hear humor in that whisper of
contact from the Gwaith’orn as they repeated the words from the
dream summoning. She forced herself to relax once more, fighting
the blind panic that nibbled at the edges of her mind. It took the
span of several more deep breaths before she was able to make the
attempt again, feeling the Gwaith’orn waiting patiently for her to
lower her shields.

When she did, they swept in quickly before
her reflexive impulse to shut them out could trigger itself. Telyn
was drowning in their consciousness, fighting to keep from being
washed away by the relentless tide before she became aware that
there were presences beside her, holding her hand both literally
and figuratively. Cormac and Mithrais were there, solid and
soothing, and she held to that contact with desperation.

Listen, Telyn,
Cormac’s inner voice
whispered, awestruck.

The bard became aware of the voices of the
Gwaith’orn in the twinned consciousness that she and Cormac now
shared. Her song magic flared warm and radiant behind her breast in
response to the contact, eliciting a sigh of surprise and wonder
from Telyn. The Gwaith’orn sang, they wept, and they laughed and
welcomed her in a thousand repetitions of that bell-like signature
that signified her presence in the Wood.

She could now sense that each Gwaith’orn was
a singular being, connected through the vast webwork of the
resonance, and there were distinctive aspects of individuality—of
self
—revealed, which Telyn absorbed with a sense of wonder.
Through the voices that whispered to them, Telyn and Cormac were
made to understand that their individuality was a part of what the
Gwaith’orn had lost when they agreed to the covenant, the guardians
of magic rather than the beneficiaries.

It was so different from the dream summoning
that she was nearly lost in the beauty of it all, until the voices
coalesced into one vibrant whole.

This is what we ask of you.

Telyn watched, and listened, and let it
unfold before her like a tapestry of music, imprinting it on her
memory. The knowledge that Cormac had already possessed unwound
like a thread and seamlessly filled in the gaps that existed in
Telyn’s comprehension as the flow of information became a flood.
She and Cormac let it break upon them until the waves receded,
leaving only the voices of the Gwaith’orn that whispered in her
mind.

The true magnitude of the task that she had
been given was revealed, and Telyn eased out of the contact with a
whispered, “Thank you,” to the Gwaith’orn.

Dazed by the immersion into that enormous
ocean of resonance and awareness, she withdrew her hand from the
trunk of the tree and reeled drunkenly, letting Mithrais catch her
and ease her to a sitting position against the trunk. Beside her,
Cormac swayed to be caught and lowered by Jona.

For the span of several breaths, Telyn and
Cormac could only stare at each other. Cormac finally broke into
that wide, sunny grin despite the shadow of exhaustion on his
face.

“And I thought my gifts were unusual,” he
quipped.

Telyn could not help but laugh with him,
giddy with the aftereffects of the intense contact. Mithrais looked
between both of them, his expression envious and awestruck.

“I had to shield myself against it after the
first few minutes, so that I could concentrate on anchoring Telyn,”
he told them. Mithrais’ eyes were shining. “You two are a marvel.
I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

“What happened?” Jona inquired eagerly.
Mithrais shrugged and threw up his hands, at a loss for words.

“Blast it if I know, Jona. The
Gwaith’orn...we all knew that they feel something, but none of us
have ever touched more than the surface, even in deepest contact.
Telyn and Cormac were inside their consciousness so completely
that...” Mithrais ran his hands through his hair, sitting down
himself and staring at Cormac with disbelief. “Did I actually hear
them
laugh
?”

“You did.” Cormac released a huge sigh. “I’ve
never been that deep, either. Telyn’s and my gifts combined
immediately, and took us right down to their core.”

“That will be where I have to go when we
attempt this monster of a magic-working,” Telyn said, wearily
rubbing her forehead. “All the way in. I have to touch them
all.”

“How will it be done?” Jona asked
interestedly.

“A huge summoning of power that I have to
bend to my will.” Telyn leaned against the tree, looking up into
the branches. She no longer feared the Gwaith’orn, and now
understood the reverence in which the Tauron held the tree
folk.

“This will open the fount of magic?” Jona
pressed.

“Yes. But more than that, it will free the
Gwaith’orn.” Telyn frowned, trying to find the right words. “The
very spells that seal the fount have bound them into one
consciousness, one focus. They are separate beings, all of them
eager to be released from this burden.”

She drew a breath, held it, and blew it out.
“Something else—the essence of the silent ones will become
transformed if we are successful, and an event that hasn’t happened
for more than a thousand years is going to unfold rather
quickly.”

“What’s that?” Jona asked interestedly.

“Hundreds of little Gwaith’orn.” Telyn
favored the Elder Martial with a weary grin. “The tree folk are
going to procreate.”

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

They filed into the great room of the Tauron
Guild House the next morning, which had been cleared of tables in
order to facilitate this first attempt at calling power.

Declan called Mithrais aside for private
conversation, his face troubled. “Lord Gwidion understands the
danger inherent in this act, does he not?” he asked. “Is he willing
to risk the loss of his son should it fail?”

Mithrais, seeing nothing but genuine concern
in the Elder Watchwarden’s eyes, responded quietly, “My father and
I agree upon the importance of the task, and are willing to risk
the potential consequences.” He turned his gaze to Telyn and
Cormac, who were conferring together, and the other seven wardens,
who waited confidently to begin. “But to this brave company, I
don’t think failure is an option.”

With the Tauron Elders looking on, Telyn and
Cormac took their places at the center of the room, ringed by the
wardens. The seed voice and her counterpart faced each other, their
hands outspread to either side, not yet touching, as the eight men
who surrounded them began to chant in unison:

“Isild lea siangenath

Gaeth orn lea urilath

Tauron cuil connat.”

Telyn and Cormac joined them on the
second verse:

“Mathain lea pridis

Lea fil bain ispiridis

Craigh cuil connat.”

The incantation was repeated, and Telyn’s
song magic came to life, roused from its resting place by the
rhythm of voices that called it forth. The bard felt it touch
Cormac first, and slowly, they brought their palms together at
shoulder level, their minds joining easily as their fingers
entwined. They both experienced the spiraling disorientation that
had accompanied the first blending of their gifts, which was
becoming less intense each time they made the connection.