What is it?
His face swam before her in the lamplight. Half-laughing, half-weeping, Calwyn lifted up the cloth that had wrapped the things. These pins, and this – this is yellow linen. Where did this come from?
It was my mother’s, answered Halasaa. I do not know how she came by it.
Tears were spilling down Calwyn’s face. Halasaa, don’t you recognise this? It’s the tunic of a priestess of Antaris! Your mother came from Antaris!
Like you? Halasaa’s face was blank, and then suddenly it was transfigured with the light of understanding.
Your mother and sister did not die. Calwyn clasped his hands. They returned to Antaris. She turned their hands so that both their wrists faced upward. There were the ice-brands that marked her as a Daughter of Taris, the three moons, one in crescent, one half and one full.The same marks were tattooed on Halasaa’s wrist, almost hidden among the spiralling patterns that snaked up his arm and across his chest. My father chose those signs for me. Halasaa’s words were very quiet. They are not known among the Tree People.
‘He chose them in memory of your mother,’ whispered Calwyn. ‘Our mother…’
My sister.
My brother.
Calwyn and Halasaa stared at each other as though for the first time.
Calwyn asked. What was your father’s name?
Halwi. And your mother?
Calida.
The single moon travelled across the sky, their shadows crept across the wall of the cave, and still they sat, searching each other’s eyes, as if the answer to every question could be found there. At last, without speaking, they stood, took each other’s hands, and circled the cave in a silent, joyful dance.
‘AND YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY sure?’ asked Trout. He and Calwyn were sitting on skins by the fire.
Calwyn didn’t mind repeating the story; she had already told it to Darrow and Tonno. ‘My mother, Calida, ran away from Antaris, just after she’d been made a full priestess. Years later she came back, with a baby.’
‘You.’
‘Yes. But she’d caught a winter fever on the journey, and she died that same night. She never said where she’d been, or who my father was.’
‘And you think he was Halasaa’s father?’
‘The robes that Halwi kept, and the hair pins, were made in Antaris. They must have belonged to Calida. It’s another reason why the Tree People shunned Halasaa, because his mother was a Voiced One. It shouldn’t be a reason, but – ’ Calwyn’s voice hardened. ‘My people are wary of me, too, because my father was an Outlander.’
‘But why did she leave?Why did she take you back?’
‘Halasaa and I were about a year old. Calida and Halwi must have realised by then that I was born withVoice, but not Halasaa. We think perhaps I could always speak with my mind, too, but I’d forgotten, until I knew Halasaa. Calida and Halwi must have wanted me to be raised with other chanters. I couldn’t have learned all the songs among the Tree People.’ Calwyn smiled slightly. ‘Lia told me that Calida was gifted in many ways, but not in chantment. So she took me to Antaris. But the journey cost her her life.’
‘Wait till Mica finds out!’ crowed Trout. ‘Calwyn, if your mother hadn’t died, do you think she would have come back to theWildlands?’
Calwyn dropped her eyes. ‘I don’t know. It must have been a terrible decision to make. She had to abandon me, or Halasaa and Halwi.’ All so I could learn the chantments, she thought wretchedly. And now my gift is gone, and it was for nothing. If she and I had stayed in the Wildlands, then I would never have been parted from Halasaa, and our mother and father would still be alive, all of us together.
The picture of what might have been was a dull ache in her heart. And yet, she could not be sorry that she’d grown up in Antaris, with the rituals of the sisters and their reverence for chantment. If she hadn’t lived there, she might never have met Darrow and her other friends, never experienced her journeys and adventures, never tasted all the different kinds of magic she’d learned.
With a shock, Calwyn realised that her memories of chantment were no longer purely painful. Gingerly, like someone exploring a sore tooth, she probed her feelings.There was still pain, but there was joy in her memories too, and thankfulness. Trout andTonno, even Keela, would never know what she had known: the fierce strength of power flowing through her voice and her body; the pure delight, the sense of rightness when the magic caught, and she and the song were one, making up together the sum of the chantment, sung by the Great Power, by the Goddess.
We sing, but we are also sung. Marna’s words returned to her, and for the first time, she began to grasp what they meant.
She poked at the fire. ‘Halasaa says Halwi always spoke of our mother and me with great love and sadness. But at last he must have known that she’d died, and he thought I’d died, too. And then he lost his own joy in living. Once he’d taught Halasaa everything he knew about the Dances of Becoming, he died. Halasaa couldn’t help him.’
Calwyn fell silent, thinking of her father, who had died of grief, and of the mother she’d never known, who had made such a sacrifice for her sake.
‘So you have Tree Person blood.’ Trout slid her a timid look. ‘You know – how you could do all those different kinds of magic – you think that’s why?’
‘It must be,’ said Calwyn simply. ‘We should have guessed before, when I could speak with Halasaa, and when I healed – ’ She stopped, and looked away.
Hurriedly, Trout exclaimed, ‘As long as you and Halasaa don’t turn out like Keela and Samis!’
Calwyn laughed shakily. ‘There’s no chance of that!’ She looked up as Darrow emerged from the shadows at the back of the cave into their patch of pale sunlight. ‘Did you go back to sleep?’
‘Yes, I think yesterday’s fishing tired me more than I knew.’ He spoke lightly, but a fist of fear clenched in Calwyn’s stomach.
She said, ‘You must be careful, Darrow. Every time you sing a chantment, it takes some of your strength.’
‘But if I do not sing, we have no hope of keeping up with Samis,’ said Darrow sharply. ‘Please don’t speak to me as though I were a child, Calwyn. I know the risks, and I choose to take them.’
Calwyn looked away, her eyes stinging.
Darrow reached out and clasped her hand. ‘I’m glad, very glad, that you and Halasaa have found each other. Don’t let me spoil your happiness.’ He climbed stiffly to his feet and walked out of the cave, to where Halasaa and Tonno were repairing the broken sled.
Calwyn watched him go. She feared for Darrow, the man she loved, but also for them all. How could they hope to defeat Samis? Now he had the Clarion as well as half of the Wheel. Darrow tried to deny his illness, but he was so weary. She was useless, and Mica was far away. Last time they had confronted Samis with the strength of three able chanters and Halasaa, as well as Trout’s ingenuity and Tonno’s courage, and even that was not enough.
Halasaa! Calwyn called silently to her brother. Darrow is feeling ill, but he won’t admit it. Please, can you help him?
Yes, my sister. Do not fear. He is tired, but he is not dying.
But even Halasaa’s reassurance could not dissolve the dread in Calwyn’s stomach.
THAT NIGHT CALWYN slept on the floor of the cave with her mother’s carved hair-comb in her hand. Halasaa lay to one side of her, Darrow on the other. As Darrow turned in his sleep, his hand came to rest on Calwyn’s arm, and held onto it. His fingers were cool. Calwyn pulled a fold of the sleeping-fur over his hand, and she felt the comforting weight of it there, like an anchor connecting her to the earth as she slept.
At first, she thought she’d woken. She was still lying in the warm, safe darkness of the cave. She smelled wood smoke, the lingering traces of cooked meat, the scent of the dried grasses in the sleeping-alcoves. But three moons gleamed through the arched opening of the cave, not one. The interior was silver bright, and it was oddly empty, not crowded with packs and humped, sleeping bodies.
Ther
e was a low fire, no more than a handful of glowing embers. Two people sat close together, their backs to Calwyn. They were wrapped in grey and white burrower-skin cloaks, and their long dark hair was bound with vines.They wereTree People.
A young woman with dark, laughing eyes turned from the fire. ‘Go back to sleep, little one,’ she whispered.
The other person turned his head. He looked like Halasaa, with a high, thoughtful forehead, and eyebrows as straight as Calwyn’s own. He did not speak, but he shook his head in mock reproach, and his eyes smiled. Calwyn stared and stared. She wanted to leap up and embrace them, to feel their arms close around her, to be safe and warm between them, but she couldn’t move.Then she knew that she was dreaming, and she began to cry.
‘Hush, hush, my darling,’ whispered her mother. ‘Don’t wake your brother.’
A warm, breathing bundle was tucked in beside her: her twin, from whom she would soon be torn away. Calwyn sobbed as if her heart would crack in two.
Then a dark shape scooped her up, and she was gathered into her father’s strong arms, to be rocked and comforted. On the other side of the cave, her mother sang, an ancient, crooning song that Calwyn knew well. The darkness folded around her and she slept.
CALWYN WOKE BEFORE dawn, in the hush before sunrise. Halasaa. She knew that he was just waking, too, ready to get up and build the fire.
Good morning, my sister.
Halasaa had often called her sister, but there was a special sweetness to it now.
Halasaa, I dreamed that our mother sang to us. Calwyn sat up on one elbow.
No one told me that my mother was a singer of songs. Halasaa’s voice was sad. My father did not share his memories of her. I have never seen her in my dreams.
Calwyn put out her hand to keep her brother still. Wait. I’ll show you.
And they lay side by side, while the others slept, and shared Calwyn’s dream.
WITHOUT THE CLARION to pass between them, fingers and toes were pinched with cold, and noses and ears were red. Darrow’s chantment seemed less strong than before; now the skaters pulled the sleds, with Darrow’s help, rather than being towed along.
‘Sit on the sled, man, and rest while you sing,’Tonno urged him. ‘We’ll hardly feel your weight.’
‘I’m all right,’ said Darrow, tight-lipped.
‘Go on! You can tend the fire-pot,’ said Tonno.
Before this, they had relied on a blast from the Clarion to send a blaze crackling up whenever they needed it. They had brought flint and tinder from the caves, and Trout had improvised a fire-pot from one of their lidded cooking pans. But it was not easy to keep the fire alight, and they wasted time fussing over the tiny nest of flames, feeding it with thawed moss and despairing when the fire went out.
Around midday Halasaa suddenly stopped. Someone is coming.
They halted, listening intently. A faint voice drifted through the trees, mumbling with a kind of hopeless exhaustion. ‘Oh, gods, help me. Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?’
A pale, bedraggled figure emerged from the forest, hands outstretched, cherry-coloured cloak drooping forlornly. The former princess of the Merithuran Empire was almost unrecognisable.
Tonno stepped forward. ‘Keela?
’ The filthy, sodden figure launched itself at him with a sob, almost knocking him down. Tonno had never embraced a princess before, and he patted her back rather gingerly at first. But as her arms locked around him, he returned the hug with more vigour. ‘Oh,Tonno,Tonno!’ she moaned. ‘I’ve never been so pleased to see anyone!’
‘Nonsense,’ grunted Tonno, flattered in spite of himself.
The whole group clustered around. ‘That wretch of a man tried to kill me!’ Keela shivered as she clung to Tonno. ‘All the years I plotted and schemed to make him Emperor, the disgusting people I was sweet to, for his sake! How I crossed the sands of Hathara, swam that cursed lake, and sailed the four oceans in that stinking little ship, and lived in that poky hole in that filthy city. Do you know what he called me? He said I was a soft, snivelling bore!’
‘Well, whatever else you might be, you’re not boring,’ said Trout unexpectedly.
‘Not soft, either,’ said Tonno gruffly. ‘You had enough nerve to do all those things, and to come and find us in the forest on your own.’
Keela gave him a wavering smile.
‘How did you get away?’ asked Calwyn sharply.
‘He was asleep.’ Keela waved a vague hand. ‘And I brought this – ’ She drew something golden from under her jacket: the Clarion. ‘I can’t use it, but I knew you would want it back.’ Her blue eyes brimmed with sudden tears.
‘Tell us his plan.’ Darrow’s voice was harsh; Calwyn could see that he, too, was still suspicious of Keela. ‘Now you have no reason to keep silent.’
Keela looked pleadingly round at them. ‘He … he wouldn’t tell me. All I know is that he’s going to the Lost City. I swear, that is true!’ Keela hid her face in Tonno’s jacket.
Calwyn and Darrow exchanged a look, andTonno glared at them. ‘What are you gawping at?’ he barked. ‘Someone fetch the lass a cup of roseberry-leaf tea! Can’t you see she’s frozen through?’
‘Thank you,’ whispered Keela, and Tonno’s arms tightened around her.
eight
By the Knot of the Waters
THE NEXT DAY they came to the foot of the Peak of Saar. The Peak itself was a single jagged spire, shrouded in mist and surrounded by long stretches of barren rock. The winds raced across the rock, stirring the snow into restless flurries. Gnarled stone pillars rose alongside the river, like the remains of some vast ruined city, and the cold smell of stone filled the air.
Halasaa became more and more uneasy. These are the Veiled Lands. Among the Tree People, only the Elders are permitted to enter here.
The hairs stood up on the back of Calwyn’s neck. Privately she asked her brother, Should we go back?
Halasaa looked troubled. I ask myself the same question. But I do not know. Part of me is held back, but another part is called on.
It was unlike Halasaa to feel uncertain, and his indecision made Calwyn nervous. She said aloud, ‘Perhaps we should go around theVeiled Lands on foot.’
‘It would be far slower than following the river.’ Darrow fumbled with his gloves and swore under his breath.
‘You’re getting clumsy, Darrow!’ Keela laughed, but Calwyn’s nervousness sharpened into fear. Darrow was beginning to lose the feeling in his hands.
‘No. We must go on!’ she cried, and she threw away her crust uneaten. But as they threaded between the uncanny, twisting columns of rock, Calwyn regretted her eagerness.The cold grip of fear tightened with every stroke of her skates.
At sunset they arrived in a sheltered gully at the very base of the mountain. By one bank was a small, flat area, heaped with snow, that they might use as a camping place. Laboriously they cleared the snow away.
‘Mica could have done this in a flash.’ Tonno wiped his brow. ‘Aye, and given me cheek with the same breath. Come on, Trout, help me with the tents. No wood for a fire tonight.We need a blast on the Clarion. No, Darrow, don’t you get up. Hey, Calwyn, where’s that brother of yours?’
Despite her unease, Calwyn couldn’t help smiling; the words your brother thrilled her. ‘Here he comes.’
Halasaa had disappeared around a bend in the river; now he skated swiftly back. There was a strange light in his dark eyes as he glided up to the campsite. It is as I thought. We have almost reached the caverns.
‘Like your other caves?’ Trout looked up eagerly. ‘Can we camp there?’
Halasaa shook his head. These caverns are a secret place of the Spiridrelleen. The river flows into them, deep into the belly of Tremaris. I have heard about them, but I was never permitted to come here.
‘Caves?’ Keela sidled closer to Tonno’s side. ‘We don’t have to crawl through any horrid caves, do we? Nasty, slimy, dirty places!’
Calwyn felt the needle of impatience that Keel
a always provoked in her. ‘There’s no real danger, is there, Halasaa? If it’s the quickest way – we can’t waste time.’
Keela widened her eyes. ‘Darling, I’d like to know what everyone else thinks, even if you don’t care. We’re not your slaves, are we? Trout?What do you say?’
Trout shifted from foot to foot. ‘If Halasaa says the caves are forbidden, there must be a good reason,’ he mumbled.
‘I agree,’ saidTonno. His hand was on Keela’s shoulder. ‘No point sailing into the rocks when there’s a light to warn you off.’
Calwyn’s impatience curdled into rage; her fear was so strong that she struggled to speak calmly. ‘In Antaris, we have secret places, too. Just because they’re secret, it doesn’t mean they’re dangerous.’
‘Halasaa doesn’t want to go on, that’s obvious. I fear you’re outnumbered, darling.’ Keela tossed her head. ‘You always place such store on your votings. Surely you won’t argue now, just because the vote’s gone against you?’
Calwyn was close to weeping with fury. Halasaa was torn and wavering. Darrow frowned as he rubbed his hands roughly together, as if to force some feeling back into them. Calwyn was sure that he wanted to go on, but he said nothing.
For the first time she had to face what she had tried to ignore for so long. In spite of Halasaa’s help, in spite of his own denials, Darrow was seriously ill. If he was too exhausted even to argue, how could he lead them? His hands and feet were growing numb; before long he would lose the ability to sing chantment.Without his help to drive the sleds over the ice, they would founder. If they didn’t reach Samis soon, and mend theWheel, Darrow would die.
Trembling, Calwyn took down Halasaa’s pack from the second sled. As the others watched, dumbfounded, she returned to the lead sled and began to hurl baggage onto the ice.
‘What are you doing?’ criedTrout. ‘Careful!That pack’s got all my tools in it!’
‘We’ll have to split up.’ Calwyn’s face was set. ‘Darrow, Halasaa and I will go on through the caverns. If the rest of you are too scared to come with us, you’ll have to make your own way around the Peak.We’ll meet you in Spareth.’
The Tenth Power Page 12