ZYGRADON (21 page)

Breylon waited until the murmurs died down again. From the sparkles in his
eyes, Mrillis guessed the High Scholar was pleased with the reaction to his news so
far.

"There are no Rey'kil in Moerta to use the power flowing through the land. The
Threads, in essence, have become so engorged with power they have tangled. What I
and the Council and the Warhawk have agreed to is this: We will send Rey'kil to settle in
Moerta, simply to live there, to draw on the power which heats the very air and poisons
the ground and warps plants and animals beyond the forms the Estall gave them. This
plan will take years, but it will work. As our numbers increase, the levels of power will
decrease. As those who live in Moerta learn the patterns of the Threads and understand
the disharmonies, they will be able to untangle those Threads and locate the pockets of
star-metal in the soil.

"And when we find those pockets, we will, one by one, destroy them. As we
have destroyed star-metal in the sky. That power must be directed to the sky web, which
will feed more power to the World. And we remaining in Lygroes will benefit. Ceera,
Little Star, what will happen then?"

Ceera's face went pink, but she hopped to her feet and turned and tipped her
head back to direct her voice to the back of the room. "Each piece of star-metal that is
destroyed will remove another mirror to reflect the power," she said. "Less light, less
tangles in the Threads, less burning, which means more Rey'kil will be able to tap into
the power and feed it to the sky-web, which means less power that harms. And on and
on." She bit her lip to fight the grin brightening her face. A few in the gathering chuckled,
caught up in her excitement.

"Exactly. Though we start with mere nibbles at the mountainous task ahead of
us, each piece removed from the pile will decrease it in increasing proportion." Breylon
rolled his eyes, making fun of the paradox of his words. Mrillis grinned. "What benefits
the Noveni will benefit the Rey'kil."

"And they'll have to put up with us living in their land if they want to stay safe,
just as we've had to put up with them living among us all these years," someone called
from the back of the room.

High Scholar Breylon's pleased expression soured and he shook his head. "The
division among our people has been our greatest enemy--not the Encindi. We are not
separate nations, we are branches of the same family. Look among you--red hair is the
mark of half-bloods. If we can intermarry among our three races and produce children,
then we are not three separate, distinct creations. We are one family, one creation from
the Estall's hands. Unless we learn to look past our differences and help our brothers and
sisters, we are doomed. This solution of ours will not last if we remain divided."

He sighed and stalked back to the massive chair on its raised platform, which
lecturers used or the Warhawk sat in when he came to meet with the Rey'kil
leaders.

"My dear friends and colleagues," he continued, and sounded as weary as a man
twice his many years. "By the grace and mercy of the Estall, we have been given
wondrous tools to protect and heal our land. Let us be grateful and let us be diligent in
the work given to us, rather than acting like spoiled children and demanding that we be
praised for doing our duty. Those who demand praise for doing what is right and
proper, what the Estall requires, will never be satisfied. They are like a dry and thirsty
land, always demanding water and never producing crops. Such land is eventually
abandoned, avoided, and cursed."

Mrillis caught a few unpleasant expressions in reaction to Breylon's words.
Others murmured agreement. In moments, though, excited talk filtered through the
meeting hall as those gathered grew excited over the proposed plan.

Others remained quiet and thoughtful. Mrillis didn't like the prickly feeling of
unease that raced down his back and across his scalp, when he saw those reactions. Were
those people in agreement with the High Scholar, worried, caught up in contemplating
the warnings he gave them and the proposed plan with all its possible flaws? Or were
they totally set against him and plotting how to overthrow his leadership?

"They'd be stupid not to listen and do it," Endor said, when Mrillis reported the
gist of the meeting to him, later that day. "But just think about it! In a few years, there'll
be enough magic in Lygroes for every Rey'kil. It won't just be the strong who can do
magic. Maybe people who didn't even know they were Rey'kil will find out they can do
magic." His grin halted, froze, and then turned to a horrified, wide-eyed look. "What if
Master Breylon was right about the Noveni? What if they can do magic someday, when
there's more than enough power? What if they decide they really don't trust us anymore,
and they decide to kill us all and take over the whole land?"

"Why would they do that? We're their allies, and we're giving them their land
back."

"In another decade, maybe." The other boy shook his red-haired head. "I don't
think I'd want to live in a land that's been poisoned for centuries."

"It's not all poisoned, and it hasn't been that long for a lot of it, anyway. I've
seen the maps, when I was visiting Lord Lyon, and there's still at least...oh, almost half
the land that's still settled by Noveni. Half the starshowers fall in the ocean, so how
quickly could the land get poisoned by star-metal?" Mrillis shook his head. How could his
friend be so pessimistic?

A grand adventure waited ahead of them. As a reward for helping to discover
the solution, Mrillis was sure he would be sent with the first group to Moerta to settle
and start cleansing the land. He would ask--no, he would demand--that Endor be sent
with him. He looked forward to the challenge. He had a right to be involved in that
work, didn't he?

"Still, wouldn't you rather have land that's already settled, and you know won't
kill you if you're not careful? Who wants to live where a forest fire has been?" Endor
picked up the dagger he had been using to draw figures in the packed dirt floor of the
dormitory. He stabbed it into the largest figure. "I'll smash the Warhawk to pulp if he
tries to take Wynystrys."

Mrillis caught his breath, wanting to stop his friend, but fascinated with the
fierceness he used as he slashed the images. One was a man, wearing a long cloak and
holding a sword aloft. That was easy enough to see. Beside him stood a woman with
flowing hair and a long gown, and after her stood three girls, and a little boy sat on the
ground.

The Warhawk had three daughters and a little son just old enough to ride
ponies. Did Endor intend to destroy the whole family, if it came down to a war? Mrillis
felt his stomach clench in apprehension.

Then a moment later, he shook off the feeling. They were both being
ridiculous. The strange feelings were a result of the long meeting and the rainy weather
that followed the battle with the starshower. He needed to get on a horse and ride until
he pounded away all the hungry, achy, restless feelings churning through him.

His unsettled feelings brought to mind the sharp pang he felt when Endor gave
Ceera a link bracelet he had carved of wood. It was all of one block of cherry wood, the
links smooth and delicate and unbroken. The effort must have taken him all winter.
Mrillis was impressed by his friend's effort, but he wanted to punch him for the delight in
Ceera's eyes and the impulsive hug she gave the other boy in thanks for the gift.

Starting the preparations for the first Rey'kil settlement on Moerta seemed to
take forever. Sometimes Mrillis wondered if everyone deliberately kept it secret from all
the students on Wynystrys and in the Stronghold. Or was it just him, Ceera and Endor
who were left out, and everyone else knew?

Mrillis couldn't understand why he would be left out. He would be a part of
the settlement--wouldn't he?

The few times he heard bits and pieces of the plans, it seemed nothing had been
done at all. It was always talk, never any actual work, no gathering of supplies, no
choosing of ships or leaders. He knew the ships had to leave by late summer to miss the
fall storms that would fill the sea between Lygroes and Moerta, yet as summer settled in
across the land, nothing had been done beyond lists.

Three days after equinox, a storm descended from the noonday sky on the
sheltered valley where Queen Elysion and her four children spent the summers. Lightning
struck. A whirlwind came from nowhere. Trees were uprooted as easily as flowers. And
the Warhawk's children died.

As workers cleared away the rubble of the house and Elysion struggled to live,
rumor claimed magic had been involved. It was the only possible explanation for a storm
that rose up with no warning, striking out of a cloudless sky on a still, bright day.

Mrillis rode with Breylon and met Le'esha and Ceera halfway to the Warhawk's
fortress, where the mourners gathered. He and Ceera rode in silence, not even talking
through the Threads, and listened to the silence between their elders. They stayed silent
when they reached the fortress and listened to the words of comfort spoken in a broken
voice by the Star Mother who led all the Star Mothers and Star Fathers. The woman was
so elderly, her name was forgotten everywhere except in
The Book of Stars and
Beginnings
. She was simply
The
Star Mother.

But whispers heard before and after the worship and mourning time, claimed
the Star Mother was distantly related to Queen Elysion, a Rey'kil, and she blamed
Noveni for the deaths of the royal children.

Mrillis and Ceera had learned long ago that if they stayed quiet and pretended
to be younger than they were, people said many things in front of them that they
wouldn't want repeated. The two children wandered through the Warhawk's fortress
and across the fields surrounding it, where long tables of food had been set up to feed
the many mourners who had come to honor Warhawk Afron and Queen Elysion. They
listened, and they heard things that made them feel cold and want to cry and shout in
anger. They told Le'esha and Breylon all they heard, because they understood that was
why they had been brought to the mourning gathering.

Rey'kil blamed the Noveni, saying it had been an ordinary storm, but murderers
had taken advantage of its fierceness to attack. They claimed Noveni nobles refused to
allow a half-blood prince to inherit the Warhawk's throne and sword.

The Noveni blamed Rey'kil, saying their magic should have protected the royal
children. Their proof, many whispered, was that Queen Elysion had survived, and she
was pureblood Rey'kil. Why would they kill one of their own, after all?

Some Noveni believed the Rey'kil knew the Nameless One had planned the
attack, and had allowed it to happen so the Warhawk would come running to avenge
his family, making himself vulnerable to attack and destruction. If Afron Warhawk died,
there would be no one to keep the Rey'kil from driving all Noveni from Lygroes, into
the sea. Or so the whisperers claimed.

Some Noveni blamed the Rey'kil because someone--no one was sure who--had
proof that magic had been used. Some Rey'kil blamed the Noveni because they heard
someone--no one was sure who--had found proof there was blood magic involved. Just
last spring, three Noveni noblemen had been caught working blood magic to punish an
enemy.

'Everyone' knew the Noveni were so jealous of the
imbrose
of the
Rey'kil, they would do anything, even violate the laws of life and truth, to obtain magic
of their own.

Mrillis remembered the day Endor had spoken bitterly against the Warhawk,
and slashed the crude drawing of the royal family. He was grateful when he heard the
testimony of the men who had investigated the destroyed house and found traces of
blood magic. Endor had nothing to do with the attack, no matter how much he hated
the Warhawk and his family. If Endor had worked blood magic, Mrillis would not feel
his presence through the Threads--and his friend was still there.

Breylon and the Warhawk agreed together to delay the establishment of a
Rey'kil settlement on Moerta until the turmoil of bad feelings between the two races
settled and cooled. Mrillis watched Breylon and Le'esha grow quieter, more careworn
and sadder almost overnight. He vowed that when he was a grown man, he would
devote himself to oneness between the two races. Breylon and Le'esha were right, he
knew: Noveni and Rey'kil were branches of the same family. He had to work to bring
them together; until there was such unity between them that no one could tell the
difference.

* * * *

Another year went by. Plans for the Rey'kil settlement on Moerta came
together quietly, slowly, in preparation for the day the Warhawk himself asked them to
begin the cleansing of the Noveni continent. In Lygroes, enchanters established
boundaries around the vales, to protect those who could not sense the growing
reservoirs of power. As teams of enchanters vaporized the starshowers in the sky, the
reservoirs of magic filled. No more star-metal fell on Moerta or in the sea, as those who
had a gift for manipulating the sky web grew more deft and sensitive. Even the Noveni
noticed the difference and were grateful.

Other changes happened on Wynystrys that Mrillis decided were just as
important, even if they only affected a few people. Nixtan caught three of his friends
taunting a little boy who had just arrived on Wynystrys as a student. He broke the nose
of one, gave a black eye to the second and jammed the fingers on his right hand against
the ribs of the third friend. Mrillis was stunned when he heard the news, but Endor
mocked the falling out between friends. He theorized that Nixtan had protected the
newcomer because he came from a rich family.

When his friend's sneering words went on too long, Mrillis stalked out of the
dormitory room and walked along the shore of the island. He thought of how Nixtan
had stood up for him, when he had been one of the youngest on the island. Mrillis was
glad Nixtan had decided to stop being a bully, whatever the reason.