The Violet Keystone

by Garth Nix

  For a second, Sharrakor kept speaking names out into the vortex, his half of the Violet Keystone pulsing where he held it dwarfed and tiny in one enormous claw.

  Milla dashed forward as Sharrakor turned. She struck with the Talons, light streaking out to lash at the dragon's forelimbs. But Sharrakor flapped his wings and rose above her, and the Violet Keystone flashed red.

  Tal sat up and interposed a Violet Shield of Discontinuity between Sharrakor and Milla. A moment later a Red Ray flashed out, hit the shield, and disappeared.

  Sharrakor flew higher, as Milla leaped and lashed out again, her twin lassos of light barely missing his tail. Crow shot a Red Ray up at the dragon, and Tal fired, too, but both were met by a blue defensive shimmer hat Tal didn't know. He changed to a blast of pure Indigo, but that, too, was countered, and still Sharrakor flew up, until he was beyond the reach of Crow's Sunstone. Tal knew his own spells would be too weak.

  The Storm Shepherds rose up after the dragon, roaring a challenge. Tal couldn't hear what they said, but Sharrakor's voice was clear, penetrating even the constant drone of the whirlwind that surrounded them all.

  "Emechis! Gheshthil arrok Adras! Gheshthil arrok Odris!"

  The Storm Shepherds screamed. Both stalled, hanging in the air for an instant. Then they dropped as if they were suddenly made of stone rather than cloud. As they fell, they were sucked sideways toward the whirlwind--and certain destruction.

  "No!" screamed Tal. He raised his Sunstone and, without thinking, sent out two shimmering clouds of pure Violet. They enveloped Adras and Odris a second before the two Storm Shepherds were ruthlessly sucked into the spinning wall of debris. The Violet cocoons were visible for a moment, then they were gone.

  Tal had no idea what he had done, whether it had worked, or if Adras and Odris had survived. He had no time to think about it, either, as Sharrakor sent a beam of Indigo into the whirlwind, plucked out a giant, jagged stone, and sent it hurtling down toward them.

  Once again Tal acted instinctively. He made an instant Hand of Light from pure Violet and tried to slap the missile away, at the same time that Crow hit it with a Red Ray of Destruction. But the Hand was too weak, merely deflecting the rock, and the Red Ray only scored its surface.

  The rock hit the edge of the spire and splintered into thousands of pieces of deadly shrapnel. Everyone threw themselves to the ground, and Tal just managed to raise a shield of discontinuity in time. Even though they weren't hit, the missile had served as a distraction.

  Sharrakor followed the missile down, swooping with his wings folded, only spreading them to brake at the last second. He struck Tal in the back with a foreclaw as the Chosen boy sprang back up, and knocked Milla over with a sweep of his mighty tail. Crow managed to roll aside from the dragon's other claw, and Malen was ignored as she lay on the edge of the Spire, still bravely chanting the Prayer to Asteyr.

  Tal felt blood running down his back as he struggled to turn Tier. But Sharrakor was too quick, and even as Tal got free and raised his hand, the claw came smashing down, pinning him to the rock. Milla was pinned, too, caught in the rapidly tightening coils of the dragon's tail, the Talons of Danir held too close to her own body to be used.

  Crow ducked under the dragon's body and fired a Red Ray at point-blank range. But the beam splashed across the dragon's mirrorlike scales, and Sharrakor laughed. His mighty jaws snapped down as Crow stood fearlessly firing Ray after Ray into the creature's open mouth.

  Crow ducked as the dragon struck. The terrible jaws closed, but not entirely on air. The hood of Crow's robe was caught. Sharrakor lifted him up and twitched his head, and the Freefolk boy was sent flying into oblivion.

  Tal closed his eyes, only to open them again a moment later as Malen's voice rose to a shout on the last word of the Prayer to Asteyr, and the weight on his chest disappeared.

  The dragon had vanished. In its place was a man. Or a manlike creature, for his skin was still mirror-scaled, and his eyes were the deep black eyes of Sharrakor. He held the half of the Violet Keystone, which he used casually to fire a Red Ray at Malen. The Ray hit her as she rushed to attack, a lump of rock in her hand. The Ray seared across her legs and she tumbled over, almost to the edge of the spire.

  "Inconvenient," said Sharrakor as he walked over to the Crone and raised the Keystone again. "Release me, Crone, so that I may take my grander shape, and I will let you live."

  "No," said Malen. She started to speak again, but Sharrakor set his foot upon her throat.

  Tal tried to raise his hand, to point his Sunstone at Sharrakor, but a familiar pain intervened. His arm was dislocated again, and useless.

  "Milla!" shrieked Tal. "Kill him!"

  But Milla was lying unconscious--or dead twenty stretches away, the breath squeezed out of her by Sharrakor's tail.

  Tal reached across with his good arm, dragged his right hand across his chest, and started to pull off the Sunstone ring. The movement attracted Sharrakor's attention. He raised his foot from Malen's throat and turned, his own Sunstone flashing red.

  Tal screamed with pain as he jerked his useless right hand up so he could see into his Sunstone. He summoned Violet and raised a shield as Sharrakor's Red Ray struck.

  The Red Ray snapped off. Through the Violet glow of his shield, Tal saw Sharrakor stalk off to one side. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Tal rolled around as well, and moved the shield just as another Red Ray snapped out.

  Sharrakor laughed and began to walk back in the other direction. Tal groaned in pain and misery. Sharrakor was playing with him, moving too quickly for Tal to be able to do anything but defend. But he had to do something. He was the only one left.

  Then Tal saw a slight movement from Milla. She was moving her head very slowly so she could see what Sharrakor was doing. And she was looking at something behind him…

  For a second Tal lost concentration and his shield wavered. Sharrakor immediately fired a Red Ray, and laughed again as Tal only just managed to get the shield back up.

  In that moment of lost concentration Tal had seen something that gave him hope. Crow had climbed back up over the edge of the spire, and was right behind Sharrakor. The Freefolk boy had something clutched in his hand, but it was too small to be a knife and Tal could not see his Sunstone.

  Crow crept closer to Sharrakor. Tal groaned again, louder, to distract Sharrakor. If the Aeniran turned now, he would blast Crow before he could do anything.

  Crow was three steps away… two… Tal saw Milla tense… one step… Tal let his shield down and screamed, and Milla jumped up shouting. Crow leaped upon the enemy, wrapping his legs around Sharrakor's waist and his left arm around his neck while with his right hand he smashed a small bottle into Sharrakor's face and a dark fluid splattered everywhere.

  Tal stared as a clear fluid dripped down

  Sharrakor's face, and for that instant, he wondered what Crow had done. Then he recognized the sickly scent of caveroach poison, poison that was death to touch. But was it still poisonous in Aenir?

  Tal was answered by a scream from Sharrakor, a scream that cut through all other sound, that intensified and grew louder and louder until Tal had to push his finger in one ear and grind the other against the stone to keep out the sound. Milla clapped her hands to her ears, the Talons sending crazy lines of light around her head like a halo.

  The scream stopped as suddenly as it had begun, Sharrakor scraping at his own face as he and Crow teetered on the very edge of the spire. But while Sharrakor fought to wipe the poison away, the Freefolk boy did not. He fought only to take the Sunstone from Sharrakor's hands, and when he had it, he threw it toward Tal.

  As the Sunstone flew through the air, Crow threw his arms back. Locked together with Sharrakor, the two teetered on the brink, an image caught forever in Tal's mind.

  Then they fell, Crow's final cry cut off as the poison did its fatal work.

  "Freeeeedom! Free--"

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Tal crawled to the edge of the spire and loo
ked down. Far below, on the red desert sands, he could see a speck of black still wrapped around something that glittered and glowed.

  Milla bent over him and gripped his wrist and elbow. Tal gritted his teeth, but could not help crying out as she put his arm back into the shoulder socket.

  "He was brave," said Milla quietly. "Brave as any Icecarl, as any Sword Thane of legend."

  "First of the Freefolk," whispered Tal. "He saved us all, in the end. With caveroach poison…" He started to laugh, but it turned into a sob, a sob that racked his whole body until he managed to get himself under control. Then he felt tired, more tired than he had ever been. He just wanted to lie down and sleep for years. They had defeated Sharrakor. Let someone else take over now…

  But he was not left to lie there. Milla helped him up and practically dragged him across to where Malen lay. She was so still that fear struck Tal again.

  "Is she . ."

  "She lives," replied Milla. "Her throat is bruised and she is burned, but I have put a healing light upon that. She will wake soon."

  Tal looked at her. "An Underfolk defeats a monster, an Icecarl wields Light Magic," he said. "And a Chosen doesn't know what to do--except look for Adras and Odris. But how do we get out of this old whirlwind?"

  "We all have to return to the Castle," said Milla. "The Veil must be restored, and peace made between all our peoples. That is what we must do."

  "Yes," replied Tal. "And we must free the Underfolk."

  He looked down at the half Keystone Crow had thrown to him, and slid it upon the finger where he wore the half Keystone Milla had given him. As the two Sunstones met, there was an intense flash of Violet, a stinging pain in Tal's finger. The ring was whole once more, the Sunstones become one.

  "You can help us all get back to the Castle from here, can't you?" asked Milla.

  Tal did not hear her. He was staring down at the Violet Keystone, lost in its depths.

  Milla smacked him on the back and repeated her question.

  "What? No. That is, I don't know…" began Tal. Then he stopped to think about it and was surprised to find inside himself an absolute confidence that he could lead them back from anywhere in Aenir. "Yes. I suppose we can go from here. You'd better wake up Malen. I'm just going… for a walk."

  Milla frowned. There was nowhere to walk to, atop the spire. But she bent down and propped Malen up against herself, wincing as her bruised ribs and back complained.

  Tal walked to where Sharrakor had stood, right on the edge of the spire. The rock was worn glassy smooth there, as if by many feet. It would be treacherous if it was wet, but Tal guessed it never rained here, in the heart of the whirlwind.

  "Khamsoul!" he shouted. "I have a question." The sound of the whirlwind did not change, but somehow Tal heard a quiet voice above it, a voice that was old and slow and mellow, gentle and vaguely amused at the same time.

  "Of course you do, Tal Graile-Rerem, Emperor of the Chosen of the Castle. I will grant you one question, and one answer."

  "Did you kill Adras and Odris?"

  "I do not kill my children," breathed the Old Khamsoul. "Even my children's-children's-children, beyond the count of years. They live, and now know their ancestry. You may ask another question."

  "Could… could I have done anything differently?" asked Tal. "Was there some way to do everything better? To defeat Sharrakor, without Crow… without Crow dying, or Jarek… or all the other people, all the Aenirans?"

  "I cannot answer that," whispered the whirlwind. "I can only say what is, and what has been, not what might have been or what might come to pass. You may ask another question."

  Tal stared out at the whirlwind.

  "Who started the war between our worlds?" he asked.

  "Which one?" The Old Khamsoul sighed. "Which one? There have been so many wars. And even I cannot always say how they began."

  Tal was silent.

  "I have not answered. Do you have another question?"

  "No," said Tal slowly. "I do not know what to ask. I will come back someday, if you let me."

  "You may come," said the Old Khamsoul. "I shall be here."

  Tal turned and walked back to Milla and Malen. A minute later, three Sunstones flashed, and three voices spoke the Way to the Dark World. A rainbow shone, and the spire of the Old Khamsoul was empty.

  EPILOGUE

  The Great Gate of the Castle had been shut for more than a thousand years. Now the vast gate of golden metal stood open to the Dark World beyond. But it was not dark, for in the Hall of Welcome a thousand Sunstones shone, and out on the road beyond there were scores more Sunstones, hundreds of moth lanterns, and many oil-soaked torches burning with blue flames.

  Tal stood in front of a crowd of Chosen and Freefolk. He was clad in simple white robes rather than violet, though the Violet Keystone shining on his hand splashed him with color. His natural shadow fell on the floor behind him. Only natural shadows flickered among this gathering, though there were still renegade Chosen, their Spiritshadows, and free shadows elsewhere in the Castle.

  Opposite Tal, in front of a throng of Icecarls, stood Milla. The Talons of Danir glowed violet on her fingers, and the crown on her head was newly polished. Her Selski hide armor had been repaired and cleaned, and once more she wore her Merwin-horn sword at her side. She also wore a Sunstone ring, which shone indigo and was larger than the half Keystone she had given up.

  "Farewell, at least for a circling," said Milla, clapping her fists together in a gesture to Tal. "Or more, perhaps. We will be busy."

  Tal nodded in understanding. Though they had saved the Veil, it had been temporarily weakened, causing a shift in temperature and changing both the weather and the Ice. The pattern of Selski migration had altered, and with that alteration had come many conflicts among the Icecarl clans who had to depart from their traditional routes and hunting grounds. As always, the Crones would decide these disputes, but they had asked Milla to assist in their decisions. She would lead a special force of Shield Maidens and Crones who were to circumnavigate the world, ruling on the new boundaries and prerogatives.

  "I'll be busy too," he sighed. Despite the collapse of the old regime, the vast majority of Chosen had still acclaimed him as Emperor. The Freefolk, led by Crow's brother Bennem--who had been cured by the Crones--had agreed to that acclamation, provided he was called Emperor of the Castle, not just the Chosen.

  Tal, mindful of his promise to Crow, had accepted for the time being. Now he had the task of trying to make the new society work. It was a tall order when within the Castle there were rebel Chosen, recalcitrant Chosen who didn't want to do anything useful, former Underfolk who couldn't imagine change, and Freefolk who were bitter and wanted the Chosen to serve them or to be punished for their past.

  "I wish Ebbitt--" Tal began to say, when he was interrupted by a scrawny, rather stooped Icecarl who seemed to be having difficulty with his facemask.

  "Wish what?" said the Icecarl, lifting the mask to reveal a familiar long nose. "Wish I'd been bored to death by those Kurshkens?"

  "No," Tal said, embracing his great-uncle. "You know what I wish."

  "Hmmph," snorted Ebbitt. "I'll be back. Couldn't miss this opportunity, you know. There I was, on my last breath… or perhaps the second-last breath,

  I can't be sure… and I thought if I die now never see the Ice. Beside, there's those Crones. I like the sound of them."

  Tal let Ebbitt go, but pressed two fingers against his great-uncle's chest. Something moved under the curs, something other than skin and bone.

  "Ebbitt!"

  "What can I say?" exclaimed Ebbitt. "It wants to come with me. We've been playing Beastmaker and I'm winning a hundred and six games to one hundred and eight."

  The Codex beat against Ebbitt's chest and the old man hastily added, "The count is a little in dispute. It could be one hundred and six even."

  Tal frowned. The Codex was too valuable to lose. But there was no guarantee he'd be able to consult it even if it did stay in t
he Castle. At least if it was with Ebbitt he'd be able to find it when he had to. Besides, Malen was going to stay in the Castle and several other Crones were gong to join her, as part of a permanent embassy. Tal would be able to communicate with Ebbitt and the Codex via the Crones.

  And with Milla, too. There would be much to talk about.

  "Farewell, Milla," said Tal. He held out his wrist, showing the scars of the oaths they had made together. Milla bared her wrist, and they touched scars, cool skin against cool skin.

  Milla smiled, a smile that Tal had not seen before. He smiled back and looked into her eyes. In their joined gaze, they both saw everything they had been through together, from their meeting on the Ice to the fall of Sharrakor.

  Everyone was silent as they stood together. Time ticked over in Icecarl breaths and Chosen seconds, counted in sparks within their Sunstones. Finally, Milla raised her hand, and Tal's fell away.

  Milla held her hand high above her head. A Talon flared and a violet whip spun overhead, before falling into motes of light as Milla closed her fist and lowered her arm.

  Icecarls shouted, their calls reverberating through the great hall. Then they shouldered their burdens and set out on the long road down the Mountain of Light. Down toward the Ice and the Living Sea of Selski, down to their windborne homes, the clan ships of the Icecarls.

  Milla did not look back.

  Tal watched for a moment, then turned toward the shining Sunstones, to the thousands of halls and rooms and corridors of the Chosen and the Freefolk, the people of the Castle.

  But even as friends and strangers alike came to his side to ask questions or beg favors or tell him things, his thoughts were only on one small part of the Castle. A suite of rooms with the front door marked by an Orange Sthil-beast leaping over a seven-pointed star.