"No. It's... not tame. But it is an ally now. Still dangerous, but an ally if we respect it." She made a sound, as if she tried to laugh but was too tired. "Mrillis, please, I'm drained dry."
He bit his lip to keep from cursing--he wasn't quite sure who he wanted to curse--and slowly relaxed his mental hands. Ceera turned, letting him see the shimmering, silver-blue pile she had labored over. He blinked more sweat out of his eyes and took some of the power slipping past his fingers to enhance his sight as dusk fell around them.
"It's a bracelet." He knew he sounded stupid, but it had to be the weariness talking through him.
Ceera had formed the star-metal into a simple circle of metal links, a triple chain of squares held together with another square every three links. He laughed when he made out the star-shaped clasp that closed the loop.
"For our Lady," she said. "Just because she's our mother. To protect her."
"She'll cry and scold you for wasting so much effort on her, and she'll cherish it always." He nodded and watched as the silver-blue shimmer didn't so much grow as intensify when he released more of his grip on the Threads.
"An ally," Ceera said, and nodded in satisfaction as he untwisted the Threads that protected his mental hands.
She reached out a shaky, dirty hand and with one finger touched the bracelet sitting on the anvil. It chimed softly, at the back of their minds, but there was no other reaction. Ceera flashed him a triumphant grin, scooped up the bracelet and clutched it in her fist.
"It's cool, though it was molten such a short time ago." She smiled and released a long sigh. "It's like stepping into a cool spring surrounded with mint and apple blossoms. It wipes away all my aches, physical and mental."
"No matter how much better you feel," Mrillis said, and bent to grasp her arms and lift her to her feet, "you're getting a good night's rest right here before we head back."
Ceera stuck her tongue out at him, but she didn't argue. Despite claiming that she felt quite wonderful with the star-metal bracelet safely around her wrist, she let him clean up her tools and set up camp and make their dinner. She sat still, leaning back against a tree trunk and smiled, her eyes half-closed, as if entranced.
They didn't speak aloud. Ceera showed him what she had done, the things she had sensed, the paths she had followed with her spirit more than her mind. There were things that couldn't be understood with words, not even with mental images, but with the soul. She couldn't have spoken of all she went through, even if she had the strength. It was beyond words, beyond the finite boundaries of their physical lives and experiences. She put the images and sensations of her experience directly into his mind.
Mrillis knew it would take weeks to completely digest what she had shown him, so he could talk about it and teach it to others. And he knew, even then, there was still so much that only they two would ever understand, could never convey to others. He was glad of that, and yet mourned; knowing some skills and knowledge would be lost to the World when they died.
They didn't return to the conversation he wanted to pursue, about their feelings for each other. Ceera fell asleep almost as soon as they ate and she had finished sharing directly into his mind. Mrillis sat up late, watching the moon glide across the sky, keeping watch over her. It was enough for him to know she didn't want Endor, but she did want to be with him.
* * * *
Ceera claimed she felt perfectly fine when she woke in the morning. After conferring with those who had kept watch, greatly encouraged by this first success, Mrillis and Ceera did not return immediately to the Stronghold. They went on to vales within a few hours' ride and hunted for more fragments of star-metal, to work it and make it malleable for use. They agreed not to take all the star-metal in each vale, but only a small portion. Sometimes the only bits of star-metal they could find were the size of pebbles, sometimes little more than dust.
Ceera went through the 'taming' process with star-metal, like making twisting sweets, several times before she had enough to make another bracelet. Mrillis adapted the protective magic Le'esha had taught him to set up a self-sustaining barrier around the tiny bits of star-metal Ceera had 'made truce with', so they could save and collect it for later use.
The Rey'kil guarding the vales reported a decrease in the collected power once Mrillis and Ceera had physically removed the refined star-metal. Lygroes needed its vales, the pools of power that fed their imbrose. No one wanted to go back to the dry times when there wasn't enough power.
After long debate, the leaders of the Rey'kil found only one answer to the dilemma. Mrillis and Ceera would have to travel to Moerta and focus all their efforts and experimentation on the heavy concentration of star-metal in that land. They were delighted. Endor shouted with glee so loudly when they told him the news, the Threads reverberated long afterward.
Then the Noveni nobles heard what Ceera and Mrillis had learned to do.
"I am truly sorry, my friends. You have been open and honest with me and my Council, to avoid accusations of prejudice and lies and plotting against the Noveni." Afron Warhawk sighed and looked around the wide meeting hall in the highest levels of the Stronghold.
Though it had only been a few months since Mrillis had seen the king, the change in the man had shocked him. The Warhawk looked years older. Mrillis wondered if the uneasy peace took a harder toll on the warrior king than years of conflict had ever done. He recalled the few times the leaders of the Rey'kil had been locked in disagreement, how both sides of the question had fought to stay civil and not decay into cruel words and argument. Mrillis wondered if the Noveni Council was more a problem to Afron Warhawk than a help, and they were the cause of the high king's weariness.
"The nobles have spoken, and the Council of Lords will march on the Stronghold and on Wynystrys to make their demands if I do not speak to you," the Warhawk continued. He nodded to Le'esha and Breylon. "You have always been gracious, and it irks me to have arrogant fools decide they can order you to come stand before me in the judgment hall of my fortress." A wintry smile broke the stiffness of his beard, which now showed more gray than gold. "They were none too pleased with me when I told them I would come here to make my request of you."
"Some of our people have chosen to forget that you are our hosts and allies," Lyon added from his place at his brother's left hand.
"And friends who could squash us like insects if we forget our manners," Athrar added from his place at Queen Elysion's right hand. His voice was thick with the surliness that only adolescent boys could attain.
Mrillis grinned. Knowing Athrar and how the boy disliked the arrogance displayed by many members of the Council, he could imagine how the demands of those nobles stuck in the boy's throat. He was glad he had forged bonds of friendship with the royal family, even unknowing, so long ago.
"Fortunately for all Noveni, the Rey'kil never forget their manners or history. If only our people could be so wise," the Warhawk said, nodding. "The meat of the matter is this: the Noveni nation wants all star-metal removed from Moerta."
"You must be joking!" Haster blurted. He turned to Breylon and Le'esha. "I swear, I did not know what those ingrates planned, or I would have told them myself how impossible it is."
"I tried to tell them," Lyon said. "I read to them the meticulous reports Mrillis and Ceera made, to impress on them how much work goes into the removing and refining of just barely enough star-metal for a bauble." He gestured at the bracelet which softly glowed, silver-blue, on Le'esha's wrist. "I told them they were ingrates. I reminded them that Rey'kil live among our people on Moerta to draw away the poison.
"That is no longer enough for them--they want the source, the root removed. And, they seem to think they are most reasonable that they do not expect it all removed within a single season, but over time. Perhaps the space of ten years."
"Make it thirty years, and you still would not have all the star-metal gone from Moerta," Mrillis said, almost choking on the effort not to roar the anger burning in his chest. These were
his friends, after all, and they had come to the Stronghold in an effort to dilute the insult of the Noveni demand.
"Actually..." Ceera looked around the gathering of Rey'kil leaders, and blushed enough to be visible. "It might not be as hard as we at first thought. I have noticed a certain... magnetic quality to raw star-metal. Conceivably, if I gathered a large enough mass together after it was refined, but before I made it into something--"
"It would draw other pieces of star-metal to it, as the boundaries of its influence expanded," Breylon said, nodding. "But my dear child, that would require weakening the cage maintained around the star-metal, to allow it enough power to draw more raw ore to itself. That could be dangerous."
"Everything we have done is dangerous. Going against the Nameless One is dangerous, even when he has been quiet so long," Master Prothis offered from his seat in a shadowy corner. "What worries me, and has worried many, is that the heir to the Queen of Snows takes these risks."
"She is capable. She is cautious. She is perhaps the only one with the necessary skill and strength and soul-knowledge to accomplish such strange and new tasks," Le'esha said. "Ceera is my daughter, though she did not come from my womb. Do you think I would put her in jeopardy if I did not have total faith in her skill, strength, wisdom and discretion?" She rested her elbows on the arms of her chair and steepled her fingers so the tips of her index fingers just touched her chin.
"Even if I had a small, niggling doubt, I would still allow her to attempt this feat because I know Mrillis will always watch over her, guard and guide her. I have come to believe the Estall made Ceera for this destiny, and the Estall formed Mrillis to be her guardian, guide and shield. He has the strength to stop her, and she will listen to his advice when she will listen to no one else. I trust him, because he is my son, though he carries none of my blood."
She looked back and forth between the two young people as she spoke, and her eyes glistened with proud tears that didn't well up or fall. Mrillis stood, took a step forward, and bowed deeply to her. Ceera pressed both her hands over her trembling, smiling mouth and closed her eyes. Two silver tears trickled down her cheeks.
The scholars, enchanters, the Warhawk and Lyon argued, trying to find a way around the demands of the frightened and thankless Noveni. Mrillis sat beside Ceera and listened. It amazed and amused him a little to realize he felt no anger toward the nation that would never be satisfied no matter what the Rey'kil did for them. If anything, he felt only weariness.
Outside the Stronghold, the last of the winter winds blasted the ancient stone walls. Though the Northern Sea tossed, white with foam and ice, spring hovered nearby, poised to flow across the land. Soon, he and Ceera would walk down the restored tunnel from the Stronghold to Wynystrys, climb on board the first ship to cross the sea that season, and go to Moerta to battle star-metal. Just as he had always dreamed.
Yet, they would not destroy star-metal and release its power into the Threads that connected and fed the imbrose of every Rey'kil. They would battle like a horseman battled a spirited horse, not to destroy and dominate but to form it into a willing ally. They would make it into tools to serve the Rey'kil. That was nothing he had ever dreamed, until now.
Chapter Twenty-One
"There. You see?" Ceera gestured at the lump of star-metal hovering in the air three man-heights above their heads.
The lump was the size of a warrior's helmet, and had taken all summer to gather, from star-metal dust, chips the size of flower seeds and pebbles smaller than the nail on her smallest finger. Mrillis looked up at the silver-blue, shimmering lump that slowly tumbled as if moving downhill, and he felt nothing but weary pride. He wriggled his fingers, manipulating the Threads that held the lump aloft. It rose a handspan higher. He shared a grin with Ceera. Behind him, Endor snorted, amused.
The magnetic properties of the star-metal had first caused trouble when it was one-fourth the size it was now. They usually left the lump on the ground when they made camp each night. One night, however, a pebble came streaking through the air, trailing silver-blue radiance and smoke, drawn by the star-metal lump. It had shot through the cart that held their supplies--fortunately, not through one of the members of their party.
Mrillis still felt sick, thinking of the damage a piece of unrefined star-metal could do to a body as it passed through, faster than an arrow could fly, and gaining speed with every league it traveled.
From that time on, he, Ceera and Endor took it in turns to share their strength and keep the star-metal aloft. The only damage done by flying bits and pieces now was to trees and any careless birds that got in the way.
They had also discovered many surprising benefits in gathering the star-metal this way. Making it come to them reduced the need for hunting parties of Rey'kil spreading across the countryside. The intense heat generated by the speed of the fragments as they traveled, and the impact when they merged with the growing mass of star-metal, did most of the purifying.
Ceera would still have to pound it flat and fold it, working it like twisting sweets. She would still need to create hundreds of layers like a smith did when he formed a fine, strong sword for battle. Such layers and strength were needed to hold the magic. Such work, without having to spend hours on purifying, was easy for Ceera. She even claimed she enjoyed it.
From time to time, blue sparks shot out of the lump, showing when star-metal dust impacted against it. This part of the land was especially thick with the dust, so that for the last three days there had been a continuous shower of blue sparks. With the phenomenon came that particular tingling in the air that meant unsteady waves of power tried to break through the basket cage of woven Threads that imprisoned the lump and its untamed power.
"Amazing," Fiora, the headwoman in this part of the country, murmured.
She rocked back on her heels, eyes narrowing as she studied the slowly tumbling lump over their heads. Even Noveni could see the blue radiance. It lit her face and made her bloodshot eyes sparkle. She dug her work-roughened hands into the belt of her trousers and nodded.
"I don't care what anyone else says," she said as she lowered her gaze back to the party of twenty Rey'kil. "What you're doing is a gift from the Estall and we'll owe you through ten generations."
"What does everyone else say?" Endor asked.
Mrillis groaned. Leave it to Endor to look for the negative in a compliment. Fiora was the first territorial leader who hadn't set guards around them from the moment their party crossed the boundary lines. She was the first to speak to them directly, instead of sending servants and intermediaries, as if she thought the Rey'kil would infect her with some dreaded disease. She had invited them to her estate and replenished their supplies before they could ask. She didn't demand they show her the papers signed by the Warhawk and sealed with his crest ring, validating their presence, their identities and their need for supplies and guides.
"You know, young sir." Fiora nodded her gray head and grinned at him. "There are some who think the Noveni are the Estall's favorites, the Rey'kil were made to serve us, and the Encindi were put here for us to sharpen our swords on. I know better." She glanced up at the lump of star-metal again. "My folk have been checking all the land you've passed through. It's greening up nicely, almost before their eyes. The animals are moving back in already. The beasts and birds know when the Estall blesses us, even when silly mortals won't trust.
"When my grandfather ruled, we had fifty farms and bred the fastest, most beautiful horses you ever did see. But every time a piece of star-metal hit--you could see it glow as it fell across the horizon--the poisoned land just got bigger. And it got bigger faster. My healthy land is just barely enough to feed the twenty families still beholden to me. Our breeding barns have stood empty since my childhood."
"My father used to weep whenever he had to kill a misshapen newborn foal. I learned to see the deaths as a mercy. My sword is weary of draining blood in mercy deaths. That's going to change, thanks to you. The glory is returning to Moerta." She
nodded sharply. "If you're not taking ship back to Lygroes before the fall storms, I'd be honored to have you winter with me and mine."
"We would be honored," Ceera said, with a nodding bow of respect to the woman. "Our plans haven't been finalized yet."
Mrillis met her glance and rolled his eyes in amused exasperation. He knew she wanted to go home and spend the winter sharing all their adventures and theories with Le'esha. They weren't sure if they could go home to Lygroes because the Rey'kil council couldn't decide what they should do with the star-metal they had gathered.
The lump of star-metal couldn't be put into storage for the winter. The Noveni wouldn't be able to do anything with the lump, but neither could they fully protect it from rebel Rey'kil. Neither could such a large, magnetic, active lump of star-metal travel by ship. Because of the star-metal littering the sea floor, traveling by ship could be highly dangerous. Mrillis had awakened from one nightmare already, of sand-fine pieces of star-metal drilling hundreds of holes in the bottom of their ship as the multitudes of pieces tried to join with the growing lump.
One proposal was to have Ceera make jewelry for the Rey'kil leaders and send the star-metal home in such small quantities it wouldn't attract raw ore. Ceera, Mrillis and Endor were sure they could maintain the basket cage around the lump, cutting it off from all other star-metal, for the length of the voyage. However, those who hadn't spent months working with the raw ore weren't ready to accept the word of youths, even if one was heir to the Queen of Snows.
Breylon and Le'esha had sent word they were working on a solution for the dilemma--but gave no details.
Pounding hoofbeats interrupted those thoughts. Mrillis heard his named being called and turned. He grinned when he saw Nixtan come riding up. Everyone in their group, except Endor, had been delighted when Nixtan had been assigned to them as their messenger and forerunner, to check out the land ahead of them. Endor, unfortunately, still nursed resentment against Nixtan and most of the boys they had grown up with on Wynystrys, no matter what Mrillis said to him. It didn't help matters any that Ceera's father approved of Nixtan, while he still showed some reservations about Endor spending large amounts of time with Ceera.
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