Goldenmark

by Jean Lowe Carlson

  Elyasin smiled; she hadn’t thought about that nursery rhyme in ages. “We’ll have to, Thad. We came here to perform the Rennkavi’s Ritual. We can’t do that with broken Alranstones. They won’t vibrate properly to amplify the wyrria of the ceremony. And from Ghrenna’s reports of her mind-travels, Elohl doesn’t have much time. None of us do. Battle is imminent upon the Aphellian Way, and if that happens—”

  “Our nation falls.”

  “Or rises with a tyrant behind it that none can ever stop.”

  Thad was very quiet. Picking up a small shard of milky-white crystal beside them, he twiddled it through his fingers. “Are you really going to go through with it? The Rennkavi’s Ritual? You’ll have to – you know – in front of all of us.”

  Elyasin glanced over and Thad’s green eyes shied away before they came back, seeking truth, his ash-blonde brows knit in a troubled frown. Elyasin took a deep breath, then sighed. “Ghrenna explained the steps of the Rennkavi’s Ritual to us all, Thad. The binding we need to open the portal to the White Tower involves passion. Carnal passion. Originally, that would have been between Morvein and her Brother Kings, so they could get through to the White Tower and channel wyrria for the Rennkavi. Now, it’s Therel’s and my responsibility. What I’ll be doing is no less or more than any man or woman on the battlefield – I’ll be fighting to protect something I love. My nation; Therel’s nation. All the people of the world who are being torn apart by Lhaurent’s atrocities. I keep that firmly in mind when squeamishness tries to make me shy from my duty. Besides,” her lips quirked, “it’s nothing Therel and I haven’t done before. And Therel saw it, over and over, in his seeing-dreams long ago. We’re ready for it.”

  Thad flushed to the roots of his hair as his gaze tracked to the broken stumps of the Alranstones. “I’ve never... I’ve never done... that.”

  “You’ve never been with anyone?” Elyasin’s eyebrows rose, a small smile upon her face.

  He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I mean, I think about it. I’ve kissed a few girls. Palace maids, mostly – you know, quick down in the larders. But Theroun kept me so busy at Roushenn, and I was shy before I came into his employ. When I wasn’t taking notes for him I was in the palace annals, researching until all hours of the night. I don’t drink, and I never learned how to approach women. They terrify me – especially the lovely ones.”

  His glance shifted to Elyasin, then away.

  “Thad!” Elyasin linked her arm in his, giving him a playful jostle. “I’m flattered!”

  “You should be,” he murmured, turning ferociously red. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Well.” Elyasin jostled his shoulder again. “When we get out of here, I promise I will teach you how to approach women. What they like, what makes them interested. What they enjoy in the bedroom.”

  “My Queen!” Thaddeus turned to her, his eyes scandalized. “Won’t your husband—”

  “Relax, Thaddeus!” She laughed, enjoying his befuddlement. “I’m not going to show you what women like. But I’ll find you someone who can.”

  His flush deepened. “But... you will be showing me. Tomorrow, if all goes according to Ghrenna’s plan.”

  “I suppose you will get an eyeful tomorrow.” Elyasin blinked and her arm slid out of Thad’s. It was Elyasin’s turn to look at the shattered fragments of crystal, hi-lighted by the braziers that blazed with sorcerous fires around the plaza to cast light upon their re-assembling work.

  Thad ran his shard of crystal between his fingers. “I won’t watch. I swear it.”

  “You have to,” Elyasin spoke frankly. “You’re a part of this, Thad. And I’d rather have you watching out for my safety during the ritual than turning your back. Therel and I will need you and Luc to stand ready. To – pull us out – if something goes wrong.”

  “Like when the Alranstones shattered the first time Morvein tried this?” Thad spoke softly.

  “She didn’t even get this far, Thad,” Elyasin reminded him. “The Rennkavi candidate they had wasn’t even Goldenmarked yet. All this destruction was because the lad they chose wasn’t strong enough to hold the Marks. But the Rennkavi’s Ritual is a hundred times the magic used to imprint the Goldenmarks. If just the marking went wrong last time, and caused all this...” Elyasin waved a hand at the destruction, feeling tired finally.

  “Then who knows what could happen during the full ceremony,” Thad finished, bleak.

  “That’s why I need you.” Elyasin glanced back to him. “Therel and I will be flooded with wyrria, channeling the power of the Brother Kings. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Ghrenna doesn’t even know, because Morvein never got that far. She has a vague image of what may happen, based upon the vision Morvein was sent through the ages, to Consummate the Rennkavi. But what’s actually going to happen?” Elyasin shrugged.

  Thad’s breath was steady, and he said nothing for a long moment. “I won’t falter, Elyasin. I’ll stand firm during the Rennkavi’s Ritual, and watch out for your protection. I swear it.”

  Elyasin nodded. Reaching out, she clasped his fingers. Thad’s long thin fingers wrapped around hers, and they shared a comfortable silence. But with a strange bleakness in her heart, Elyasin at last sighed and rose. Her euphoria was wearing off, and now her body just hurt. It ached in places she didn’t even know she had, from days of prolonged exertion. Rubbing her neck, she glanced down. “I’m going to find Therel at the hot pools. Would you like to come?”

  Pushing to standing, he shook his head and adjusted his spectacles. “I need to get supper ready. Luc is grumpy when he wakes and there’s no hot food.”

  “Isn’t he just.” Elyasin smiled.

  Thad met her gaze at last, utter earnesty in them. “You know I... care for you, don’t you? The other men may bicker and fight over you, but... when you need me, I’m here. My Queen.”

  “I know.” Elyasin smiled gently. Reaching out, she placed her hand upon Thad’s thin shoulder, gripping it in camaraderie. “Love for your Queen is a beautiful thing, Thad. It makes you righteous and bold. It makes you push yourself to your limits and beyond, to make the right decisions. And you have. At every turn, you have been there – moving us forward. Helping where we didn’t even know we needed it. Theroun was right about you; you are an asset, Thad. But you’re so much more than that. You are a good man. Someday, some other lucky woman will see it, too.”

  “Someday.” Thad’s soft smile was haunted, his cheeks flushing behind his wire-rimmed frames. “If we ever make it out of here, I suppose.”

  “We’ve all been pushed to the breaking point,” Elyasin cupped Thad’s cheek. “But if love is the result of that stress, like the diamond compressed from coal, then it’s a good thing. Let your heart be love, Thad. Let it hold love. For me, Luc, Therel, and Ghrenna. And for yourself. It’s what keeps us going, when all things fail.”

  Thad pressed Elyasin’s hand to his cheek, his green eyes shining with devotion. “You are a beautiful woman, Elyasin. But more than that, you are a wise and stalwart Queen. I will see you sit your throne again someday. Even if I have to move mountains to do it.”

  “Start by helping us thread broken Alranstones back together,” Elyasin spoke gently. “And then we’ll repair my nation.”

  With a nod, Thad released her hand. Sinking down upon one knee and lowering his head, he set a palm to his heart and one to a knife on the belt at his hip. Without a word, he rose and retreated, off to the underground river where they’d had luck catching their supper. Elyasin watched him go. There was something that shone in Thaddeus’ soul, as if darkness could not touch him. And she wondered if he had his own particular wyrria, other than his impressive memory.

  The magic of an unquenchable heart – that could move mountains when it had to.

  * * *

  The next morning, everyone assembled at the center of the White Ring. Time could not be told in the infinite diamond darkness of the underground citadel, but Elyasin felt refreshed by her long sleep and the g
entle, exhausted lovemaking she and Therel had shared before curling up in their little nest in their own private dome near the plaza. She’d slept hard, the first dreamless night she’d had since arriving here. And now she stood, holding Therel’s hand and gazing at Ghrenna, who stood in the center of the burnished golden dais in the middle of the plaza.

  Ghrenna looked astounding. A riot of health was in her cheeks, her eyes bright in their cerulean depths. Dressed in her Elsthemi buckled leathers and snowhare pelt, her long white waves were plaited in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She wore longknives in her boots and upon her hips, and her body surged with vitality – a fighter to her very essence, ready for battle. Ghrenna gazed at them each in turn – Luc, then Thad, then Therel and Elyasin. Her glance dropped to the monarch’s clasped hands and her full lips eased into a smile. Her gaze flicked up and she spoke, her haunting alto filling the plaza and weaving currents upon the chill air.

  “Is everyone ready?”

  “We are.” Elyasin spoke, strong, echoed by the others.

  “Everyone is to do their part.” Ghrenna’s strong gaze pinned them all by turns. “Luc. You will heal anyone who begins to tire. Move freely, judge who needs you most, balance your efforts. No one is to be given especial preference, or we will fail. Is that clear?”

  Holding her gaze with steady ferocity, Luc gave a sharp nod. He appeared far better today, also. More robust, standing taller, his lion-gold mane bright like his refreshed emerald eyes. Something had steadied in him since his near-break seven days ago, and his tall, lean frame was easy and relaxed in his buckled tan leathers.

  “Thaddeus,” Ghrenna continued, continuing on to the lean scribe, “you will be my voice. I will yoke your mind to mine as you sing the sigils inscribed upon each of the Plinths, when you and I arrive at them, from root to crown. You have the sequences locked in your memory?”

  “I do,” Thad spoke softly but with confidence. His gaze never wavered, and Ghrenna gave a small nod. None of them doubted Thad’s meticulousness, or his excellence.

  “Elyasin and Therel,” Ghrenna turned to them last, command in her iron-willed gaze. “You will be my hands. As Thad’s song vibrates the Plinth back into harmony, you will engage the flow of the Brother Kings, lifting every last piece of each Plinth back into place and holding them steady until Thad’s song and my binding-runes can put them back into their original unity. Are you prepared?”

  “We are.” Elyasin and Therel spoke in unison, their combined voices bright and hard – ready to do any kind of battle they had to.

  “I will orchestrate the proceedings,” Ghrenna lifted her chin. “When you feel my mind slip inside yours, do not fight me. Our body needs a mind to sing the voice, to work the hands, and to heal the flesh. I will be that mind, your Gerunthane, and we will all be one body in this. Your own wyrric abilities will be pouring through you, and mine will direct your flow. Fight me and we fail. Allow me to breathe through you like the Nightwind, and we will succeed. Are you ready?”

  Heads nodded; shoulders squared. Elyasin took one last glance around, seeing the impenetrable steadiness of their cadre. Everyone here would do or die – and dying today was not an option.

  Without another word, Ghrenna turned. She led their steps, moving the party to the base of the first sundered Alranstone at the far edge of the diamond-black plaza. This one was in the best shape, over half of the natural milky quartz crystal still upthrust from its base in a jagged spar and swirling with golden runes, only fourteen shards of moderate size to piece back together. It was the easiest one: Ghrenna had numbered the Plinths in order, starting with the most intact, because this one would be practice for all the rest.

  Practice, so they could get it right – or keep trying until they failed.

  Ghrenna lifted her hands, and an etheric wind began to move through the underground space. Or perhaps it was inside Elyasin’s mind, but she felt the power of the group rise suddenly. Heat flared inside her as that etheric wind rushed in through her nostrils, first the left, then the right – and the heat inside Elyasin scorched to a furnace. The wind moved through her, diving in through her ears and parted lips, pouring in through her eyes like a splash of water upon her face. Licking up her legs and diving in lower places, a beautifully erotic sensation that made her gasp.

  Elyasin’s body burned to Ghrenna’s Nightwind touch. She was the mountain, she was the volcano. She was the roar of a lioness under the scorching grassland sun. She was molten gold, pouring through her veins, blistering the air and sending vapors steaming off her body as Hahled’s crimson inkings simmered blue-white upon her skin.

  As she glanced to Therel, she could see his wyrria had risen, but in inverse. He stood strong and cool, his white-blonde hair shining like moonlight on snowfields. A haunting darkness was in his ice-blue eyes and a chill wind eased off his skin, moving the ripples of mirage around Elyasin as his purple inkings from Delman rippled like ocean water capturing the light beneath icebergs. As his gaze met hers, an electric sensation filled Elyasin, raising every hair on her body. And feeling his magic taste hers, lick around her with its cool moonlight to her scorching heat, Elyasin understood.

  They were twin wyrrias, balanced. Twin hearts, matched in ability but opposite in temperament. And strangely enough, Elyasin felt an additional balance inside her own skin, easing the torrent of the Brother Kings. As if Elyasin’s own calm balanced King Hahled within her; and as if Therel’s innate temper livened the cold darkness of King Delman.

  The contentious Brother Kings had never been so well balanced before. As Thaddeus’ lilting tenor was raised before the first shattered Alranstone, beginning to confidently sing out the combinations of Giannyk runes from base to pinnacle, Elyasin twined her fingers in Therel’s. They simmered together, ice upon flame, scorch upon water; a livid sensation that made Elyasin’s awareness of her own vibrating skin and her cavernous surroundings blossom. Her consciousness expanded upon that burgeoning wave, and she felt Therel’s go with it. Her etheric body, her wyrric power twinned and twisted into Therel’s as they sighed out – filling the massive plaza.

  Within Elyasin’s inner vision, a rune writ itself in golden fire suddenly. Blazing to life within her, it was so vivid she could see it in her waking vision, the sigil of her essence forming from all this incredible power and harmony she experienced. She felt the Nightwind catch that rune in talons made of flowing wind. Ghrenna’s command – that Elyasin surrender to the mind that would direct her. That Elyasin become one with it, and allow it to use her. With a deep breath, Elyasin bowed before that power like stepping off a ledge into the rushing wind – allowing the golden rune in her mind to be swept away, replaced by one that shimmered white like ether inside her.

  And then the Nightwind filled her, raising her arms and guiding her into the dance.

  There was no other word for it. Thad’s voice strengthened, similarly yoked into the body Ghrenna had formed, an eerie melody that provided their rhythm and flow. Elyasin felt Therel’s cool nature yoked into that body as well, then the sweet golden ease of Luc being bound. As their cadre came into balance, the body prepared by the flowing command of the Nightwind, sigils of white etheric flame began to write themselves in the air.

  And then they were all dancing to that haunting music, together.

  Moving side-by-side, flowing with smooth steps, Therel and Elyasin made complex gestures that rose on instinct from Ghrenna’s yoking – dancing their combined power into the shattered crystal shards as Thad sang and Luc’s golden healing monitored them all. And not one shard, but all of them for the first Alranstone began to lift at once. Those lowest in the spiral began to wind up first from the base of the Plinth, organizing in midair, sliding into their long-lost place. Moving in a powerful flow, Elyasin’s skin simmered as she watched etheric sigils writing in the air around those crystal fragments. Slipping into cracks, the sigils unfurled like vines of language, forming a spider-thin net that licked out, binding through the fragments. Tendrils of blue-
white fire curled deep into the shards, the sigils pulling the fragments together – unifying the base of the Plinth and cascading all the way to the top.

  As they united the base, the golden runes inscripted upon the Plinth seared from a mellow white to a blistering luminousness. As the enormous edifice came together with a blinding blaze in every fissure, all seven eyes upon the Alranstone flashed open. They blazed white, dazzling the cavern, before cooling into their sequence of colors – a dark onyx and crimson at the bottom, to a luminous violet-white at the pinnacle.

  With a sigh of release, Elyasin felt Ghrenna’s grip inside her body ease. Elyasin’s hands fell to her sides; she breathed hard from exertion, even though she hadn’t even known she’d been exerting herself. She hadn’t even known her muscles had worked so hard until she felt the staggering ache hit her – so great had her euphoria been, seized in grip of the Nightwind. Fear rushed through her in a jagged wave, that she’d not been aware of her own body’s limits as they’d danced. Elyasin shuddered as she felt her body again at last, realizing that she ached all over like she’d been beaten. Her shoulder twinged, as if she’d carried something far too heavy but not known she was hurt until this moment. She heard Therel swear at her side, rubbing his wrist.

  As if the Nightwind had sent him, Luc was there. Placing his hands upon Elyasin’s shoulder, pouring his healing gifts through her in a wave of warm golden light. The Nightwind still moved through them in unseen currents; Ghrenna hadn’t released them yet, only allowed a reprieve. Moving to Therel next, Luc cupped Therel’s damaged wrist until the Elsthemi King breathed in relief. Luc stepped back, finished, though he twisted his neck and massaged his knuckles with a scowl as if experiencing his own pain. Ghrenna gazed at him, her cerulean eyes unreadable, then turned and walked to the second Alranstone.