Mrillis didn't soak in the largest tub, even though he had the room all to himself for the first time in memory. He silently grumbled that he couldn't enjoy a long soak in the steaming, herb-infused water. He washed quickly and thoroughly, reasoning that if he was caught spying, Le'esha wouldn't be too angry with him because he was clean. Mrillis had learned that the more small rules he kept, the less angry adults would be when he broke a big one. Besides, he liked being clean and warm.
The only things he liked more were having a full stomach and satisfying his curiosity.
Mrillis detoured through the kitchens and snatched up a handful of dried fruit from one of the massive barrels lining the pantry storeroom. He was disappointed to find that the meat pies weren't out of the oven yet. There was no one in the passageway when he reached the crevice, and no one had removed the ladder tucked away in the shadows. As he crawled down the narrow tunnel, he shivered more from excitement than the unaccustomed cool in the air. Living on Wynystrys all spring and summer had accustomed him to warm water and balmy breezes. He had forgotten until he came home that the Stronghold was always cool and shadowed where the Queen of Snow's magic didn't bring light and warmth.
"Whispering Vale?" Le'esha said, the first words Mrillis heard when she and Breylon came into the room. "Why is he worried? Why bring the prophecy up now?"
Chairs scraped on the floor. Mrillis heard soft, high-pitched sounds, the thuds and rings of pitcher, plates and goblets being moved. Even though Breylon had probably eaten in the common room, Mrillis guessed Le'esha had brought him to her office to have their discussion over the sweets that followed the meal. Mrillis thought he had smelled spiced apples when he cut through the kitchen and guessed they were eating the apples, served over thick slabs of honeybread and drinking the sweet, spiced wine Le'esha favored.
Thinking about food made his stomach rumble. He curled up tight to try to muffle the sound--the curved stone surface that brought him the sounds in the adjoining room could just as easily conduct sound to let people know a spy listened. Mrillis scowled at his forgetfulness and gnawed on the dried fruit he had brought with him.
"Our boy has proven the theory that the strength behind our magic comes from the star-metal," Breylon said.
A metal cup chimed, as if Le'esha had dropped it or brought it down hard on the table. Silence rang through the room. Mrillis couldn't imagine Le'esha being shocked into stillness.
He soon wished he had stayed in his room, as they discussed his dreams and his painful experience with another overflow of power through his mind and body.
"We shouldn't have worried about the Nameless One trying to kill him," Le'esha said. Her voice sounded rich with repressed laughter. "He'll murder himself with his escapades. Ah, me, and to think I mourned because I had no children. How do birth parents stand the burden of worrying their hair white and being proud enough to fly, all at the same time?"
"The Estall gives us the strength." Breylon chuckled. "Our boy discovered the Threads and deciphered their function, just from watching me. It's unnerving, my dear, knowing that fertile, knife-sharp mind and those big, dark eyes are constantly watching, learning and seeing deeply. My only comfort is that he doesn't realize half the time what he's doing."
"And the other half?"
"I'm learning humility. I will be written of in The Book of Stars and Beginnings as merely the teacher of Mrillis."
"Learn fear, my friend. If we fail in our duties, Mrillis will destroy the world and not have enough soul left to care."
Mrillis shivered. They made him sound like the Nameless One, who would have destroyed his own children for the sake of power. He devoured the foundations of the Encindi land, slaughtered his own people and indulged in blood magic, and was never satisfied. Mrillis didn't want to be remembered for such crimes. He knew Le'esha's vision on the night of his birth marked him for important things, but he hadn't really cared. Now, he felt afraid and a little sick. What if he made an enormous mistake and didn't realize it? What if he chose the wrong life path and nobody realized it until too late?
"So he sees the Threads. He followed them to the star-metal and scorched himself. I fear, the more we caution him to go slowly, the faster he will go. Not to be stubborn or to defy us, but just because that's the way he is," Le'esha continued.
"We have to slow him somehow. Or frighten some caution into him. Too much power, too soon, untrained, and he'll be like a drunkard locked into the wine storehouse. He could kill himself and half the world and not realize it."
"I warned you, didn't I? He always seems leagues ahead of his age-mates, and sometimes his teachers. The boy is a wonder. A gift from the Estall. If only he didn't have such a treacherous path to follow, all his long, long life."
"Hmm, yes. A much longer life if he doesn't make a habit of eavesdropping. Eh, boy?" Breylon rapped sharply on the thin curtain of stone between him and Mrillis' ear. The mineral chimed and rang, vibrating sharply up through his head.
"Do you like hearing others talk about you?" Le'esha added, her voice just as close, just as clear through the stone.
"No, Lady." Mrillis groaned, aching from the reverberations through the stone bowl.
"Come here, immediately."
"Yes, Lady."
Breylon handed Mrillis a cup of wine, with powdered herbs floating on top, when the boy pushed the door open and stepped into Le'esha's office. As soon as he stepped inside, the door clicked shut with a hard bang. Mrillis' fingertips tingled slightly and a high, sweet note like wind chimes rang in his head. This was the feel and sound of Le'esha's imbrose, then. He muttered thanks and took the cup and drank. The ache in his head faded, soothed by the medicine.
"We likely would have sent for you, anyway," Le'esha said. She gestured for Mrillis to come sit in the chair next to her at the table. She waited until he was seated, then picked up a scroll that had been lying half-unrolled, in a nest of cloth. "Graddon has had visions and insists that we study one of his most disturbing and cryptic prophecies."
"What do you know about the prophecies that come from Whispering Vale?" Breylon asked. He settled back in his chair, elbows braced on the intricately carved arms, and cradled his wine cup in his interlaced fingers.
"There's always mirroring," Mrillis answered slowly, after agonizing moments wracking his brains for an answer.
"Anyone who listened to Master Prothis lecture could give me that answer." He wrinkled up his nose in scorn. "What does that mean?"
"Master Graddon always sees two futures. Soon, and far distant." Mrillis sat up a little straighter, trying to see around Le'esha without appearing to, so he could look at the scroll. Was there something about him in there? "He always sees and speaks with double meanings. Ordinary things will be echoed by magical things. He wrote about an oak that fell in a storm, and everyone thought he only meant the Oak of Granyia. Twelve years later, the Tower of the Oak was destroyed when its escarpment fell into the sea, during a storm that lasted four days."
"He does have a good memory," Le'esha said, nodding. She gave Mrillis a sideways glance, and winked.
"Do you think maybe the mirrored person in the prophecy is me?" Mrillis blurted, while the sudden, shocking theory still chased around inside his head.
"Not this time." Breylon held out his hands and Le'esha handed him the scroll. "There are illustrations drawn all around the prophecy, which is itself very short." He frowned and bent his head over the words, as if he had a hard time reading them. Mrillis knew that couldn't be--High Scholar Breylon had probably been studying the scroll since Graddon sent it to him. He probably knew it by heart.
"Before the ending of all things worthwhile and strong, there will be three drops of blood born to the bloody sword," he read aloud slowly, as if it took effort to pronounce the words. "The daughters shall walk in light and be strong, but the son shall overstep them. One shall serve and one abominate and one will triumph. One will sleep and one shall wait and one shall suffer. They shall do so forever, and yet even to forev
er there is an ending. The blood drawn from the third shall open the doors and smooth the road and waken the sleeper. Protect the strong and vigilant, so that the three drops of blood may come. Though you look for the abomination, you will not find her until she has destroyed innocence. Keep her hand from taking the blood drawn from the blood, or all is lost."
"Blood." Mrillis shuddered. He gladly took the mug of warmed, spiced cider Le'esha gave him, and drank quickly, washing away the bad taste that came into his mouth. "Blood could mean the Nameless One, couldn't it?"
"Three drops of blood--three children. It speaks of two daughters and a son." Le'esha nodded. "The girls are quiet, obedient, ordinary girls, but...." She shrugged eloquently. "They are still small. There is no telling what evil their father has hidden in their hearts, like seeds waiting in rich soil, to bloom overnight into something beautiful and poisonous."
"What about Endor?" the boy demanded. "It sounds like he'll do good things, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does." Breylon handed the scroll back to Le'esha. "I have a very important job for you." He waited until the boy sat up straighter, giving all his attention. "The fate of nations can sometimes rest on one small thing, and we never know what it is until the crucial moment has passed. Therefore, this could be the most important thing you will ever do. When you return to Wynystrys, continue to be Endor's friend."
Chapter Twelve
Ceera was sick. Mrillis felt a strange twisting of relief and worry when he heard the eight-year-old was in bed with a fever and cough that left her weak and breathless. He had feared Ceera was angry with him, because she didn't come running to greet him when he returned to the Stronghold.
He found the silver-haired child curled up in her bed with a lamp perched precariously on the edge of the bedside table, reading a scroll. Mrillis leaned against the doorframe, watching, caught between laughter and his worry.
Ceera had learned to read as quickly as he had. Maybe quicker, because he taught her as soon as he discovered the treasures of stories and learning in the scrolls. Ceera without a scroll in her hand, trying to sneak off to read, was an unusual sight. He was comforted to see her cramming more histories into her little head.
The unusual brightness of her eyes, her hair plastered to her skull with sweat, dark smears under her eyes and dabs of fever flush in her pale cheeks made him worry. Mrillis knew Ceera and Le'esha wouldn't thank him if he showed worry or fear for the child. He swallowed hard, closed his eyes and whispered a prayer for guidance from the Estall. Then he pasted a smile on his face, opened his eyes and stepped into the room.
"Teach me that trick?" he said, and slouched across the room, to slump down into the chair next to the bed.
"What trick?" Ceera smiled, slipped the marking ribbon into the scroll and rolled it closed. Mrillis noticed that her little hands shook when she put the scroll aside, as if it was too heavy for her. When could a scroll ever be too heavy for her?
"Pretending to be sick so you can stay in bed all day and study."
"Not pretending." She stuck her lower lip out in a pout for a moment. That fever brightness in her eyes changed to the glee that she showed just for him. "You're home! We'll have such fun this winter. Tell me about the boy?"
"What boy?" Mrillis sighed, feeling a few notches of tension slip away. This was Ceera as usual. Her body had turned traitor with weakness, but her mind hadn't slowed down. As usual, he felt as if he had missed several steps in the conversation.
"The enchanter's son."
Mrillis bit his lip against an angry retort. Why did she want to learn about Endor? It surprised him to feel anger twisting his gut. Then he laughed at himself. The other boys on Wynystrys would tease him and say he was jealous. And that was just ridiculous.
He still saw most girls as a nuisance, but Mrillis understood that boys liked girls when they got older. Boys who threw mud at girls and stole their kittens and sweets eventually tried to persuade the same girls to marry them--things changed when boys and girls grew older. That was the way the Estall made people.
He supposed the idea of ever being jealous over Ceera struck him as ridiculous because he knew, deep inside, he and Ceera would always be each other's closest friend. They would always be together. They knew it, with no need to ask or talk about it.
Mrillis felt a dropping sensation in his belly at the sudden image of Ceera standing with him before a Star Mother, hands clasped, making vows. Marry Ceera? He hadn't even earned his first sword yet, or learned to use the Threads that spun across the land, or figured out how to take away the poison in star-metal, or even started to study the prophecy Breylon and Le'esha had just shared with him. Those were important things he had to do. When would he have time to marry anyone?
That was in the far distant future. Mrillis took a deep breath and hoped he didn't look as pale as he felt. He wasn't going to worry about the future. He would just do what the Estall had given him to do now. He still had a few weeks until his tenth birthing day, after all.
"Endor is just a boy." He shrugged and snagged at straws of ideas swirling through the whirlpool of his unsettled thoughts. "What about his sisters? They're here, aren't they?"
"Yes." Ceera scowled and hunched her shoulders.
"What's wrong?"
"Nainan is a nasty snake." She shivered and scrambled to wrap her blankets around herself, as if a sudden icy blast had shot through the room.
"Why?"
"She won't take baths, even when Laini puts nice herbs in the water. She only eats with her fingers--even when we have porridge!" Her disgruntled expression softened when Mrillis snorted and grinned at her. "She steals, and when a grownup takes back what she stole, she cries and acts like we stole from her. And the little one, Triska, won't even crawl. She wants everybody to carry her. She cries all the time and she doesn't like the other babies in the nursery."
"Maybe she's scared," Mrillis offered.
Ceera shrugged. "They're worse than anybody says Encindi are. Do you think they're so nasty because of their father?"
"I don't know."
"Is Endor nice?"
"He's not a snake." Mrillis forced a grin, though Ceera's continuing interest in the other boy irritated him. "What about you? How did you get sick?"
"Nainan pushed me in the cistern and shut the lid on me, when I caught her stealing Laini's garnet necklace. I spent the whole night there. It's cold!"
"You spent the whole night in the water?" Mrillis choked, unable to breathe for a moment.
A knot of pure panic, for Ceera's sake, settled in hard and cold and painful in his chest. He wanted to find Nainan and punish her. Even if she was Endor's sister, and Endor was his good friend, he wanted to hurt her.
"How did you stay afloat?" He gripped the back of the chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
"Our Lady says I found my imbrose." Ceera shrugged, as if it were a small accomplishment. She couldn't fight the wide grin of delighted pride that lit up her face.
"Can you see the Threads now, too?" The knot in his chest loosened when Ceera shook her head. He held out his hands to her. "Close your eyes. Think about seeing through my eyes." He half-closed his eyes, turned his gaze sideways and mentally turned himself, so he felt as if he stood half a step crooked and two handspans above the furs on the floor.
The varicolored Threads of magic grew visible to his new way of seeing. Mrillis concentrated on their vibrations of power, soft chords of near-music they created if he listened with his entire soul, the warmth of energy brushing up against his fingertips, the edges of his ears and the tip of his nose.
"What are they?" Ceera whispered.
"The warp and woof of life," Le'esha answered, startling both children.
Mrillis slowly let go of Ceera's hands and turned to face the Queen of Snows. She stood in the doorway. He hadn't heard the door open. How long she had been listening to them, he had no idea. He supposed if he was going to get in trouble, this was definitely worth it.
"I had thought to wa
it until you were stronger, Little Star, before I showed them to you. As it is, your soul grasped the Threads when you woke your imbrose." Le'esha nodded thanks when Mrillis stepped aside so she could take the chair he had been using. She sank down gracefully into the seat and regarded both children for several long moments.
Mrillis perched on the edge of the bed, close enough to let Ceera grasp his hand if either of them needed the comfort.
"I'm sorry, Lady," he finally managed to choke out.
"For what?"
The boy was stumped for several moments. He knew he had done something wrong--but not wrong enough to make the Queen of Snows angry with him.
"It's always best to save apologies for when you are more certain of the trespass," Le'esha said after several minutes of increasingly uncomfortable silence, while Mrillis struggled to put into words what he sensed in his conscience. She smiled softly, looking a little weary, and leaned forward to cup his cheek in her soft, warm hand. "You do know you have done something...not wrong, exactly. Impetuous. Overstepping the boundaries. But truly, what are your boundaries?"
She sighed, settled back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. Both children sat up a little straighter. This was Le'esha speaking as Queen of Snows. They knew it was wise to pay full attention.
"Ceera has great potential for talent and power. And like you, Mrillis, that potential can be turned to good, or it can be turned to evil." She looked both children in the eye in turn. "I expected her to see the Threads sooner than her age-mates--"A rueful smile quirked one corner of her mouth. "But not this much sooner. You have changed her life path, do you see, by showing her things she was not quite strong enough, alert enough, to find for herself? Like forcing a flower to open a little sooner than the Estall intended, you damage the flower. You might have stolen some learning and growing from Ceera."
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