"I do not know how much of that early myth is true," the Shaman said, "but it is part of a Shaman's training to visit the Eccrasian Mountains, to go to the Place of Power."
"Have you been there?" Arianna asked.
Nicholas was listening closely, not yet sure why the Shaman was telling them this.
"Yes," she said. "I was only recently returned when I was assigned to Rugar's fleet. I am young, as Shamans go. Very young."
She didn't say anything for a moment. She brought her other hand up and smoothed her wild white hair. It wouldn't tame. It never had. Her movements seemed odd, jerky, slow. As if something in the Vision had disturbed her greatly.
"What did you See?" Nicholas asked again.
"Nicholas, please, let me tell this as I can," the Shaman said. "There isn't much time."
"You've said that before."
Arianna's voice rose slightly. "What's going to happen?"
"It's not Black Blood against Black Blood, is it?" Nicholas asked. She had had a Vision like that, shortly after Arianna had had her series of Visions. The Shaman had told him of that one. It had terrified her so.
"Nothing so vast as that," she said, "At least I don't think so."
She let her hand drop.
"Although I might want it to be that way," she said, and then smiled at them over her shoulder. It was a sad smile.
"You'd want total destruction?" Arianna asked.
"No," the Shaman said. "I'd want this Vision to be as important as the one about Black Blood. But it is not. I know it is not."
"Then you can tell us," Nicholas said.
"There is no point in telling all of it," the Shaman said. "And there is much I have to sort out. But you need to know part of it."
The trail widened. They were keeping a good clip, maybe even faster than the pace they had walked earlier. Arianna seemed to be doing fine. She seemed to be better than she had before the Shaman's Vision. Perhaps keeping her mind on the Shaman's problem was keeping Arianna from concentrating on her own.
Perhaps they shouldn't have been walking in silence. Perhaps Nicholas should have been trying to talk with his daughter, to ease her pain, at least little.
"Fey mythology says there are three Places of Power," the Shaman said. "Three. We have only discovered one, and that was in the Eccrasian Mountains. Some say that the Fey's thirst for conquest is merely a cover for the search for the other two Places of Power."
"I thought it was to bring fresh blood into the Fey lines," Nicholas said.
"It is that," the Shaman said. "It is clearly that, and has been since the first Fey mated with a non-Fey. But the Places of Power have been a driving force in the Fey from the start."
"Then why didn't Jewel say anything to me?" Nicholas asked.
"So many Fey believe the other two Places of Power to be myth. If they were more than that, then there would be other races like the Fey, attempting to conquer the entire world, right?" The Shaman's question needed no answer.
But Arianna spoke up anyway. "Not if the races were different," she said.
"Races aren't that different, child," the Shaman said softly. "If they were, we wouldn't have so much in common, any of us. I have traveled half the world, and I've seen a lot of differences, but not the kind that you talk of."
"This has something to do with your Vision, though," Nicholas said. "The Places of Power."
"Yes," the Shaman said. "This morning, I Saw a Place of Power. I Saw —
She shook her head, as if she didn't want to finish.
"You Saw?" Nicholas prompted.
She glanced at him, and he got the distinct impression that she wasn't going to finish the sentence, at least not in the way she had been planning to before.
"Your son has found a Place of Power," the Shaman said.
"Gift?" Nicholas said.
"If he hasn't already found it, he will before we arrive. But it's in the Cliffs of Blood. Did you know of it?"
A Place of Power in the Cliffs of Blood? Nicholas had never been there. He had heard that the people there were headstrong. He had even met the Wise Ones on occasion and found them to be a bit off. Their beliefs were ancient. The Tabernacle hated them, and thought them to be a weird sect of Rocaanism. Several generations earlier, the Tabernacle had petitioned the palace to rid the Cliffs of Blood of the "blasphemers," but it had never happened. The Wise Ones never left their small towns, and only the most adventurous Auds traveled there. The Cliffs of Blood remained, as did many of the remote sections of Blue Isle, entities in and of themselves.
"No," Nicholas said. "I've never heard of one."
"Are you certain?" the Shaman asked.
"The Roca was from there," Arianna said. "Right, Daddy?"
Nicholas frowned at his daughter. He had given her rudimentary training in Rocaanism, but had not done much more. He figured he owed her that much, since she had the Roca's blood in her veins. She needed to know a bit about the religion to rule the Isle. But, knowing Arianna, she had probably done more study on her own.
The thought sent a shiver of fear through him. Learning about Rocaanism could have been deadly for her.
"That's hard to answer, sweetheart," he said. "There are many legends that say the Roca was from the Cliffs of Blood. But there are others that say he was from the Snow Mountains, and still more that say he was from the Kenniland Marshes. Every region of Blue Isle wanted to claim him."
"Except Jahn," Arianna said.
"It was the Roca's sons that built Jahn," Nicholas said. "The city did not exist until well after his Absorption."
"Legends have a basis in truth," the Shaman said.
"I know," Nicholas said. "But with the Roca it's hard to know what's true and hat's not. So many places claimed him that I often wonder if he weren't more than one person."
The Shaman was quiet. She kept her head bowed. He had learned over the years that her silences spoke louder than her words.
"You think this Place of Power is important."
"I know it is," she said.
"You think it has something to do with the Roca."
"I think," she said slowly, "that it has something to do with the wild magick on the Isle. The magick we could never account for."
"The Fey got their magick from the Place of Power," Arianna said. "You think I did too?"
"She's never left my sight," Nicholas said. "You know that."
"I do," the Shaman said. "I also know that two types of blood flow through her veins. Black Blood — the most potent of all Fey blood — and the Blood of your Roca. I think the power of your children is no coincidence, Nicholas. I think it is the logical extension of the merging of two peoples who come from Places of Power."
"If there is such a place here, I should know of it," Nicholas said.
"Perhaps," the Shaman said. "I think it is typical Fey arrogance that says because there are no other races like the Fey, therefore the legend of the three Places of Power is false."
"This Place of Power on the Isle, you don't think it was just created, do you?" Arianna asked.
The Shaman looked at her sharply, dark eyes intense, then she turned her attention back to the trail. It was still wider, as if it were used more. That made Nicholas nervous.
"Fey mythology says that the Places of Power are as old as time itself, child," the Shaman said. "The Place of Power came first. Then the Fey discovered theirs."
"If there is no other Place of Power between the Eccrasian Mountains and Blue Isle," Nicholas said, "then how do the Fey know there are three of them?"
"Magick is pure in the Place of Power," the Shaman said. "And questions can be answered, for a price."
"What does that mean?" Arianna asked,
"It means," Nicholas said. "Someone asked if there were others and discovered that there were two more. But not their locations, I gather."
"The locations were mentioned," the Shaman said. "The legend says this: There are three Points of Power. Link through them, and the Triangle of Might will
reform the world."
"That doesn't mean anything to me," Arianna said.
"But it does mean something," Nicholas said. "It means that the Places of Power are points, and if you connect them somehow, you have a triangle. If you find two, you should be able to find the third."
"Yes," the Shaman said. She made her way around a boulder that had fallen in the middle of the path. "And there's more than that. It is part of the Fey legacy. The word 'Link' is crucial."
"This is what Sebastian was upset about, isn't it," Nicholas asked. "He said he lost his Link with Gift."
"He said it was broken," Arianna said softly.
"We are all Linked," the Shaman said. "You, Nicholas, are Linked with Arianna. I can See that Link if I try. It hums between you, a multicolored thread. Visionaries can not only see the Links; they can travel across them. If I could find a way to penetrate your Link, I would be able to go from you to Arianna."
Nicholas nodded. He had understood this before, only less perfectly. The Shaman was good at explaining Fey concepts. He had relied on her more than once.
"Penetrating the Link is the key. It is more difficult than it sounds," the Shaman said. "Just because I can See your Link does not mean that I can travel it. I need a point of entry, a way to get through to you."
Another boulder was in the middle of the path. Nicholas walked around it. He put out a hand and then scraped a shin against a rock he couldn't see. The darkness was still full. Dawn was only a figment of his imagination. He wondered, vaguely, how long this night would last.
"And these Links are what this legend talks about?" Nicholas asked.
"Yes," the Shaman said. "It is why Visionaries search, and why there is always a Fey Shaman at the original Place of Power. If the second place is discovered, the Fey plan to Link the Shaman with a Shaman in the second Place of Power. If the third is discovered, all three Shamans will Link, and then we will have the Triangle of Might."
"Which is?" Arianna asked. She sounded calm, as if this meant nothing to her. Perhaps it did. But it meant something to Nicholas. No wonder the Shaman had wanted the Black King out of the picture. If the Fey had a way of becoming even stronger than they were, of dominating even more than they did, it would be better for the entire world if the Fey were not so bloodthirsty, if instead they had some compassion.
"We don't know what the Triangle is, child," the Shaman said. "We only know that these things are usually well named. Places of Power are that. And 'Might' is a pretty inclusive term."
Nicholas shuddered. He grabbed onto a tree as the path veered to the left and started down again. He wished the darkness would ease, even slightly.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't believe that the Black Family would allow Shamans to control the Triangle of Might."
The Shaman glanced at him, and on her wizened face, he saw traces of a smile. "I like you, Nicholas," she said. "Nothing gets past you."
"What?" Arianna asked. She sounded irritated. "What does my dad see that I don't?"
"It is not by order of the Black Throne that the Shamans keep one of their number in the Place of Power," the Shaman said. "It is Shamanic decree. Fey magick is split, as Nicholas knows, between Domestic magick and Warrior magick. The Black Throne specializes in Warrior magick. It has little respect for Domestic magick."
"Why?" Arianna asked.
"Because Domestic magick is quiet," the Shaman said. "And because it has respect for all things. Warrior magick does not. It dominates all things."
"Are you saying that because I'm of Black Blood I have Warrior magick? I'm a Visionary, same as you."
"No," the Shaman said. "You are not the same as me. Your Vision is different, darker, and your magick has the potential for greater power. There is no calmness in you, Arianna. If you were to come to the Shamans with your Vision and ask for a position among us, we would turn you down."
"Because of my Black Blood," she said, head down. Nicholas wanted to put an arm around her, but the trail was not yet wide enough for them to walk side by side.
"Because of your ferocity. I do not know if that is entirely a product of Black Blood. I think, at times, it might be a product of your Shifting. I have never known a passive Shifter."
"What about my brother?" Arianna asked. Nicholas heard the venom in her voice. She had decided long ago to hate her brother. The fact that they were traveling to see him seemed to make that feeling stronger. "Would you let him become a Shaman?"
"He is one of the gentler creatures of Black Blood I have ever met," the Shaman said. "He reminds me of your father, Nicholas. He is an unwilling participant in all of this."
"Is that a yes?" Arianna asked.
"That is conditional," the Shaman said. "He is the first member of the Black Throne I have ever met who has this feature. I am concerned about it, frankly. I worry that he is not strong enough for the tasks ahead."
"Yet you dislike those features in those of us with Black Blood. You do not trust us in the Places of Power."
Nicholas shuddered. He wasn't sure he liked to hear his daughter identify herself as someone with Black Blood. She was his. She had been raised an Islander. And she was. A special one.
With wild magick.
"I did not say that," the Shaman said. "We do not trust you with the Triangle of Might."
"Why would Shamans be better?"
"We might not be," the Shaman said.
"But you say my son has found the Place of Power," Nicholas said, wanting them to end this discussion. "Does that mean you know where it is?"
"I will be able to find him," the Shaman said. "We have a small Link. I can trace him through it."
"And somehow this discovery has disturbed you?"
"Oh," she said, and then she sighed. "It is not the discovery that disturbs me. It is the Vision."
"What did you See?" Nicholas asked again.
"It pertains only to me, Nicholas," she said.
"You Saw your death," he said, and that pain in his heart, the one that had been there since Jewel died, the one that had been growing steadily since, expanded again.
"I have Seen my death many times," she said. "Each time, it has been averted."
"You didn't answer me directly," Nicholas said.
"The future is always in flux," she said.
"Tell me," he said. "I'll help you avoid it."
She stopped. Arianna almost walked into her. The Shaman turned around so that she could face him.
She put her hand on his arm. "Nicholas," she said. "You cannot stop this. There are greater forces at work here than our friendship."
"Our friendship has benefited both the Fey and the Islanders," he said.
"And so it will continue," she said. "But promise me that you will remember this. Promise me that you will always remember the larger picture."
"I won't allow you to die," he said.
"My death is my choice," she said. "Just remember that when I do die, I will do so to help make things right. Think on this conversation. It will be hard for you."
"Your death is not something I want to face," Nicholas said softly.
"It is not my death that will be hard," she said and squeezed his arm. "It is the life that lives in my stead that you will object to."
"And whose life is that?" Nicholas asked.
"You will see soon enough," she said as she turned away from him, and headed down the path.
FORTY
Matthias stared at the burning boy. He could feel the boy's fear — or was it his own? He wasn't certain. The boy was arguing with the man he had pulled closer to him, a man whose presence Matthias hadn't even been aware of.
Things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand if Denl, Jakib, and Tri hadn't come up here, knives drawn, to attack the boy. They had thought somehow that Matthias was in danger. They had gotten within a few feet of the boy and he had turned into a fireball. Matthias had tried to calm him and to leave, and the boy had gotten even angrier.
He was protecting Fey.
Matt
hias shuddered.
The boy burned brightly against the dark night. The fireballs were smoldering on the mountainside — fortunately, there wasn't much grass — and the air smelled of smoke.
"If you don't want us to leave," Matthias said, "you have to tell us what to do."
He wasn't sure he wanted to give the boy that much power, but it didn't really matter. The boy might ask him to work with him again, and Matthias would refuse. He didn't like this meeting, didn't like this boy, didn't like the fear that rolled through the air like waves.
Another fireball launched. Matthias ducked as it whistled overhead. It landed behind him with a thump.
"Coulter!" the new Islander said. "Stop."
But he couldn't stop. Matthias knew that. The fireballs were out of his control. They seemed to be coming from his fear.
"What do you want us to do?" Matthias asked again.
"Leave my friends alone."
"Fer godsakes, Holy Sir," Denl whispered, "Promise ye'll do that."
"All right," Matthias said.
"And don't lie!" the boy shouted.
"I'm not," Matthias said, even though he was.
Another fireball shot through the air, this one coming directly toward him. Denl and Jakib jumped away. Tri crouched, his hands over his head.
Matthias had had enough. He stood as tall as he could, and he held up a hand.
The fireball hit a spot about three feet from his hand and bounced back toward the burning boy. The boy caught the ball and extinguished it.
"Stop this now," Matthias said. "This has gone on long enough."
The boy shot another fireball at Matthias. This one didn't feel out of control. It felt deliberate, as if the boy were aiming at him. Matthias kept his hand up, and the ball bounced against the unseen barrier, flaring against it for a moment. It was almost as if it had hit glass.
Like the opaque wall that had formed inches from his hand in the cell with Burden, all those years ago. The opaque wall that acted as a shield, that had protected him from Fey attacks.
Matthias brought his hand down. His heart was pounding, and not from the fireball attack.
— The Fey call me an Enchanter. I don't know what the Islander word for me is. I suspect it's lost."
The Resistance: The Fourth Book of the Fey (Fey Series) Page 26