by Диана Дуэйн
Herewiss and Eftgan came down to the battlement together and leaned on the parapet with Freelorn's followers. "I wish that sealing the pass was going to be as simple," Eftgan said.
Freelorn glanced at her. "It really ran be done, then?" Herewiss nodded. "It took me a while to work out the exact method, and it'll take some hours to attune to the mountain properly. . but, yes, I can do it." "And survive?"
Herewiss's glance crossed with Freelorn's, gently mocking. "That's with Her, of course," he said, "but I have a few things to do yet before I go willingly to death's Door. I believe I'll live."
"It's risky, though," Eftgan said, as if resuming an argu-ment with herself. "The earth always moves better on a night when the Moon's full, but the next time that happens there's an eclipse. The Shadow will be very strong then—"
There was a silence. Segnbora bit her lip. In a place as bitterly contested as Barachael, where the land was soaked with centuries of blood and violent death, even the simplest wreaking could be warped by the built-up negative forces. An eclipse was no help at all. And to attempt a wreaking that involved unconsciousness of the upper mind, as this one surely would— "I'm strong too," Herewiss said.
The complete assurance in his voice made Segnbora shud-der. She had heard such assurance before, and disaster had followed. "The wreaking itself doesn't worry me; I received more than enough Power to handle it at the Morrowfane. The tricky part will be the survey of the land. That'll have to be done out-of-body, and it'll take at least a day. Moreover, it must be done today, or tomorrow at the latest, in order for me to be properly rested up for the long wreaking."
Lang raised his eyebrows. '"Survey?" Herewiss nodded and leaned on the parapet. "Can't seal the pass without checking the valley to see how its stone lies — strata, faults, underground water. Touch the wrong part of a landscape and the whole thing could be destroyed."
"This area's quite unstable," someone said, and heads turned toward Segnbora, confusing her terribly until she real-ized that it was she who had spoken. "There are two major faults under the valley," she heard herself go on in a voice that
sounded like hers but was somehow odd. "Eight minor verti-cal faults run east-west between Adine and Aulys, and one runs across the lower Eisargir Pass. One major vertical fault crosses the valley mouth from Swaleback to Aulys's southern spur—" (Mdaha? What are you—)
(If he will work with stone, here, he must learn this, sdaha!) said the great dark voice inside her. She held her peace and let him use her throat.
"Then beneath those is a lateral fault that runs down the Eisargir Pass from the foot of Mirit into the valley, past the town, and out into the plain. It's very treacherous. We made no Marchward here because of it. To touch it wrongly will cause it to discharge and fold the valley in upon itself. The mountains might come down too. Especially Adine, whose support-spurs are rooted close to the lateral." The others stared at her, particularly Herewiss. He opened his mouth, but paused a moment, unsure how to begin. "Sir—" "I greet you, Hearn's son," she said, and approximated Hasai's slight bow. "Sir, how do you know all this?"
The mdeihei were laughing indulgently, as one laughs at a child. "We are Dracon," Hasai said, very gently. "We know. Stone is our element."
"Sir," Herewiss said, "I'd like to trust what you say, it'd save me a great deal of time, but—"
"— but you don't understand," Hasai said, patient. Segn-bora was surprised to hear the overtones of his inner song, calm and measured, coming out in her own voice.
"What you ask us is a great mystery. Even we aren't sure how stone became our element. But in the world from which we came, we were born in the stone, and dwelt in it. These are the very earliest times of which we speak. When food and drink failed us, stone and starlight were all we had left. We learned to use them. Those who didn't understand stone— how it could be moved to make shelter or melted with Dra-gonfire to help one find more starlight in dim times — those didn't survive. Those of us who lived to become as we are
now, are born knowing the structure and movement of rock as we know how to use our fire to shape it. We experience stone as if it were part of us. Indeed, we are the foundations, the roots of the world."
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Herewiss and Freelorn looked at each other. No one on the parapet spoke.
From down in Barachael valley, the hot eyes of the blazing serpent that encircled the town looked up with interest. (You're good with fire, are you?) Sunspark said, its voice lazy but full of challenge.
Segnbora gulped. But Hasai turned her head and look-ed down at the elemental calmly. "We know something of fire."
Sunspark glanced at Herewiss, as if considering the agree-ments that bound it, and then back at Segnbora. "Some day," it said formally, "we'll
match our power, you and I, and see which is greater."
"Some day," Hasai said calmly, "we shall." The words made Segnbora squeeze her eyes shut against a sudden blind-ing headache, for they were in future definite tense, describ-ing something that had not yet come to pass.
When the memories passed, and the sight of common day-light came back to her, Hasai lifted her head again. "Hearn's son," he said, "do you desire our aid?"
Herewiss looked at Segnbora as if trying to see past Hasai's voice. " 'Berend, what do you say?" She coughed and cleared her throat, getting control back. "I say, if Hasai offers you aid, take it."
"In that case," Herewiss replied slowly, "I'd like to check his assessment of the faults—" He stopped, unwilling to com-plete his suggestion. " — in my mind?" she guessed. "Yes."
Segnbora considered the idea. "You're welcome to look in," she said finally. "When?" "As close as possible to the hour that we begin the wreak-ing. Tomorrow night?" "Wait a minute!" Segnbora said, panic rising. "We?" Herewiss shrugged. "I'll need ongoing information during
the wreaking itself. I could probably do it alone, but why stretch myself thin when there's assistance offered?"
Segnbora hesitated. To participale in the wreaking itself would mean becoming involved with Herewiss's Fire. And the Fire was something she had sworn she would never touch again; she had suffered too many frustrations on its account. Besides, being unable to focus, she might become a danger to the proceedings. .
Herewiss picked up her last thought. " 'Berend, you came out of the Precincts with everything they had to teach, less one," he said. "I doubt you'll foul a wreaking in progress. Goddess knows how many of them they put you through!"
Most of them, Segnbora thought sourly, for all the good it did. She had no excuse. "All right," she said. "Tomorrow night, then."
"We'll move mountains together," Hasai added in a rare show of humor. There was starlight in the cave, and behind him ran the slow quiet
laughter of the mdeikei.
Herewiss nodded to Segnbora, and then turned to Eftgan. "Madam,"he said, "we have to finish discussing the Bluepeak business." He started back up the stairs to the tower, taking them two at a time, Khavrinen bouncing at his back and trailing blue Flame. Eftgan gave Segnbora a curious look and followed.
What have I got myself into! Segnbora thought. She put her head down onto her hands and gazed across the valley at Barachael, memories of the Precincts, and her unsuccessful attempts to focus tearing at her.
Below, the fire-serpent folded its hood and looked at her with innocent wickedness. (Tell me a joke?) it said. Segnbora groaned.
The next day it began to seem as if Eftgan's glum assess-ment of the Shadow's ability to direct the Reavers was correct. It certainly seemed as if they knew the incursion route down the Eisargir Pass was threatened. They came pouring out of the valley in a disorderly but
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constant stream. Skin tents sprouted everywhere, and thousands of shaggy Reaver ponies cropped the green corn down to stubb
le. The old silence of
the valley was replaced by a low, malicious whispering, like the Sea's when a storm is brewing. Dusk brought no peace, either. All the valley glittered with the sparks of campfires, around which war songs were being sung, and swords shar-pened.
Segnbora sat atop an embrasure in the northeastern battle-ment as twilight settled in, looking down at the press of Reaver tents and people gathered around the lower switch-back of the approach to khas-Barachael gates. Hasai looked with her, undisturbed. (This place is well built, for something made by your kind,) he said. (It won't fall to such as these.)
"Maybe not. But this is the strongest fortress in this part of the south, and they don't dare march away from here and leave it unconquered at their backs. Even if Herewiss seals the pass successfully, these three thousand will just sit at the gates and hold the siege." (You're troubled, sdaha. And it's not the prospect of battle that's causing it.)
With a sigh, Segnbora swung down from her perch on the wall and sat on the stone bench inside the embrasure, leaning back against the cool wall. (I'm not delighted about this busi-ness of being involved in a wreaking,) she said silently. (Espe-cially this one. And you got me into it.)
The dusky melody of Hasai's laughter rumbled inside her. (I think not. Who spoke the words, who told the Firebearer he was welcome? Did. you lie to him, then?)
Exasperated, Segnbora closed her eyes and slid down into herself. Above the cave within her, it was twilight too. Stars were coming out one by one in the shaft that opened on the sky. Hasai lay at ease on the stone, his eyes silver fire, his tail twitching slightly like that of an amused cat. Segnbora walked over to him and sat down by one of his front talons, leaning her back against it and craning her neck back to see him.
The Dragon was a shadow, winged like the night, only his face glittering in the cool light of his eyes. "Very funny," she said. "Mdaha, I didn't
lie. But I'm afraid of him depending on me. I might fail him."
"Ejsn 'All. Vuudo," Hasai chided. "When will you accept what you are?"
"Be patient, will you? It took me long enough to find out what I'm not."
"Part of you is me," the Dragon said. "I will not fail so simple a task as examining the stone in this valley. If you wore my body more often, you would know that."
The melody of the bass viols in his voice became grave. Behind him the mdeihei matched his song in cadences of calm regret.
"Your memories are buried deeper under you mind's stone than ever. We are at your foundations, and still you try to keep us out. It would be so
easy to become one," he said, lifting his head. "Look…"
In a flash of memory, Hasai showed her the building of the Eorlhowe in North Arlen — a whole mountain that had been uprooted from a remote range in west Arlen as casually as a man might pluck a flower for his hair. The mountain was taken to the tip of the North Arlene Cape, laid there upon the body of the slain Worldfinder, and melted down upon him with Dragonfire until it was only half the size it had been. Then its remains were talon-carved and tunneled and re-worked into the residence of the DragonChief, the Dweller-at-the-Howe. Segnbora shuddered at the thought of the pal-try skin of stone that had been "protecting" her inner mind from Hasai and the mdeihei.
"Your fear cripples you," Hasai said more gently. "You fear what we are. Even our joys are terrible to you. Matings, births, deaths, the Immanence that isn't your Lady but is nonetheless real— You must give up the fear, come to terms with these and all the other things from which you cannot run away. Cease hiding yourself from yourself, be who we are!"
"It's not that easy," she said, taking a last glance at that distressing memory of the Howe. As she watched, storm-clouds clustered about it, hiding
the Howe's rounded peak. Dragons flashed in and out of the clouds like lightning, their roars deafening the thunder. Whether this was ahead— mem-ory, or past-memory, she had no idea.
(Hallo the heart!) came a voice from a long way up. It was Herewiss's voice, tentative but cheerful. "Damn," Segnbora muttered.
Hasai lowered his head toward her. "Later, sdaha?"
"Later for sure," she said, disgruntled. She was not ready for this, but nevertheless she called up to the stars, "Come on in!"
"I brought a friend," Herewiss said, slipping sideways out of nothing as if through a narrow door. Khavrinen was laid casually over his shoulder.
Fire flowed from it and caught in Freelorn's eyes as he appeared behind his loved.
"Nice place you've got here. Where's your lodger? Lorn wanted to—"
Segnbora watched in amused approval as Herewiss stopped in midsentence and looked up … and up, and up. Freelorn halted beside him and did the same, his eyes going wide. When Segnbora had first come in, Hasai had been indistinct, a looming dark presence. But now the gems of his scales caught the light of Herewiss's Fire and threw it back in a dazzle of blue sparks. He lowered his head to thirty or forty feet above Freelorn and Herewiss, tilting his head to look first at one of them, then at the other.
"I see the resemblance remains," he said, very low, rum-bling a major chord of approval. Following the words came Dragonfire, a slow and luxuriant spill of blinding white radi-ance that poured from his mouth to the floor and pooled there, burning. "Greetings, Lion's Child. And to you and your Flame, greetings also, Hearn's son."
From the darkness beyond Hasai the mdeihei joined the greeting, recognizing the sons of two lines worthy of notice even as Dragons reckoned time. The huge cavern filled with a thunder of concerting voices, a harmony that shook the walls.
Herewiss bowed very low. Freelorn glanced around him in amazement at the noise, and then down at the spill of Dra-gonfire, under which the stone floor had melted and be-gun to bubble. Finally he tilted his head back up to look at Hasai. "Resemblance?" he said in a small voice. "To Healhra,"Hasai said calmly. Freelorn's mouth fell open.
"I was at Bluepeak March ward some years before the Bat —
tie," Hasai said. "I saw him when he was a little younger than you. You have his nose."
"I, uh. ." Freelorn said, and closed his mouth. He looked over at Segnbora.
She shrugged. "He's been around awhile, Lorn. Mdaha, what do we have to do for Herewiss?"
"Come deeper inside us, sdaha. He will see what he needs to see when you do."
Hasai dropped his head down to Segnbora's level, his jaws opening slightly to receive her hand. Dragonfire still seethed in his mouth, so that the floor hissed and smoked where drops of it fell. For a split second she hesitated. Then, recognizing a challenge, she rolled up the sleeve of her shirt and thrust her arm into the fire. This was happening in her mind, after all. How badly could it hurt? She found out. Jaws closed and held her trapped in the essence of burning, a heat so terrible that it transcended pain. Her control broke. She opened her mouth to scream, feeling the heat more completely than anything she had ever felt in her life. But to her utter amazement, without the sensation stopping, the pain vanished—
She felt the stone. There was no way she could not feel it. The sensation was like a fencer's when balance at last becomes perfect and power flows up from the earth. Connec-tions formerly hidden suddenly became clear and specific: her body seated on stone, the bench; the beech's placement on the stone of the upper-battlement paving; the positions and junctures of the blocks of khas-Barachael's walls; the massive piers and columns of its foundation-roots in Adine's southern spur.
She felt the whole mountain, a complex of upthrust blocks and minor stresses pushing against one another and easing again as Adine's roots met those of its neighboring peaks. Her perception widened and spread around the valley to include Eisargir and Houndstooth and Aulys, mountains leaning on or striving against one another. The valley, too, filled with her until she felt the faults and stresses there, a surface unease like a vast itch. She felt the transverse vertical faults, lying fairly quiet now that mountain-building in the area was largely
finished. She felt the lateral fault, stretching from hea
d to foot of the valley and holding dangerously still.
Farther down, heat grew in the stone. Its structure and its temper changed as her perception slid down through the fragile skin on which continents rode and jostled. Weight and pressure grew by such terrible strides that there was no telling anymore whether the stone was liquid or solid: it simply burned darkly, raging to be free, yet having nowhere to go.
Down farther still, it was too hot, too dense, for stone. Molten metal seethed and roasted in eternal night, swirling with the planet's turning, breeding forces for which Segnbora had no words but which the Dragons understood. These were some of the forces they manipulated while flying, and finding their way.
(Enough!) Herewiss said, his voice seeming to come from a long way off. (Sir, I see your point.)
(Look here, then,) Hasai said, redirecting Segnbora's atten-tion to the very top of the paper)' layer where mountains were rooted and the valley lay. (You see the danger of the lateral fault. Trigger it and the vertical faults will likely collapse the valley, bringing down the mountains. Yet the pass you pro-pose to close has the lateral running right down it, and direct intervention there will definitely set off the fault.)
(There's also the problem of the negative energies,) Segn-bora said. (See how they're gathered along the lateral fault. It's ready to have a quake. Evidently that's an option the Shadow's been considering for a while.)
(Fve been thinking about it too,) Herewiss said, sounding grim. (The question is, what do I do about it? There's only one possibility. .) He trailed off, sounding dubious. (What's your thought, Fire-bearer?) Hasai said. Herewiss indicated one of the eastern roots of Hounds-tooth, a colossal pier of granite and marble set a half mile deep in the crust. (Positive and negative attract,) he said. (If I strike there with my Fire and cause that root to move, the negative should flow away from the lateral fault and attack my positive Power. But before that happens and the forces cancel out, the root itself