by Resa Nelson
Taddeo felt himself recoil. His legs wobbled as he sank to sit on a step. “How can this be resolved?”
Wendill sat down next to him. “Clearly, we cannot take the poison and spread it elsewhere.”
“Does that mean none of us should leave the island?”
“Not until we cleanse it.” Wendill sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair. “I believe there is a way to clear the poison, but I need time to investigate the exact steps required. What I do know is that for the final phase of the cleansing we need the presence of either the one who committed the murder or the one who set the murdered girl's spirit free.”
“The one who called for the murder is the Scalding Drageen. The one who actually committed it was mostly likely his alchemist.” Taddeo paused, squinting as he drew upon his memory. “They are the ones Astrid defeated.”
“Oh,” Wendill said. “That day when I was set free from Dragon’s Head Point?”
Taddeo nodded, remembering how he and Norah had taken their water form and watched the battle from the sea surrounding the rocky outcrop that had held Wendill captive since the beginning of the dragons' involvement with the Scalding family. “Drageen and his alchemist are the ones who took your place. They are the ones now imprisoned in the rock.”
“Oh,” Wendill said again, disappointed this time. “Then they will not be able to help us. What about the one who set free the murdered girl?”
“Astrid,” Taddeo said, realizing for the first time that he missed her. “She is in the Southlands now, traveling the winter route of the dragonslayer.”
Placing his elbows on his knees, Wendill rested his face in the open palms of his hands. When he spoke, they muffled his voice. “Then it will be months before she comes back to the Northlands. And how will we contact her if we're trapped on this island?”
Taddeo closed his eyes, remembering his time alone on top of Tower Island, a ritual he performed at the beginning of every day. “I believe there is a way.”
Wendill looked up, letting his hands fall to his lap. “How?”
“You've been free of Dragon’s Head Point for less than two years, and already you forget who and what we are.” Taddeo smiled. “We will call upon the wind.”
Wendill nodded. “Of course. But that can wait. First we must focus on the task of cleansing, and for that we must call on something else.”
CHAPTER 8
Following Master Antoni's directions, Astrid left Bellesguarde and traveled on foot for the next several days, sticking to the main road that divided the crops and rolling hills of this region of the Southlands.
Astrid's nose twitched from an acrid scent. She looked ahead and noticed a small cottage facing the road and the steady curls of smoke rising from the opening in the center of its roof. A short stone wall surrounded the cottage, and a large garden expanded behind it. From the description Master Antoni had given, she suspected the cottage belonged to the alchemists he recommended. But it would take several minutes to get there.
Although the breeze felt cool, the sun baked into her skin, reminding her winter had ended. It would soon be time to follow lizards as they migrated back toward the Northlands. She'd seen few lizards on the winter route and remembered how DiStephan had talked about them thinning out to a point where they seemed likely to disappear altogether.
“Do you think there will be any lizards to follow next winter?” Astrid said to the empty air as she walked alone.
Dirt swirled from the road, rising to form the wispy figure of DiStephan's ghost, which shrugged.
Astrid focused to steady her nerves. At Master Antoni's manor she'd found no way to speak with DiStephan because she'd rarely been alone when outdoors, where DiStephan manipulated any natural element available—such as dirt—to take form and make his presence known. As much as she'd enjoyed her stay with Master Antoni's family, she'd missed DiStephan.
“Were you there when the arrow pinned my leg and the lizard attacked?” she said.
The wispy figure turned to look at her and nodded.
“Did you see its spittle fall onto the wound on my leg? That was as dangerous as if the lizard bit me, wasn't it?”
Again, the figure nodded.
Astrid dug into the leather pouch hanging from her belt and withdrew the dark stone she kept hidden inside. “Is this what kept me alive? Is it why I'm not dead?”
DiStephan's ghost shook its head emphatically. No. Its wispy hand pointed at Astrid.
She pushed the stone back into the pouch. “I don't understand. If the stone didn't save my life, what did?”
DiStephan's ghost pointed at her again, even more emphatically.
Stumped, Astrid struggled to understand him. “Something else I carry with me?”
The ghost hesitated as if unsure how to respond.
“Is it the bloodstones? I haven't used any of them, but is having them enough even if they're not here with me?”
Again, the ghost hesitated.
She decided to try a different line of questioning. “Did anything like this ever happen to you?”
The dirt forming DiStephan's ghostly shape collapsed onto the road, leaving the air next to her empty again.
Out of habit, Astrid pulled Starlight from the sheath hanging at her side as she spun, looking for a lizard or any other sudden danger. She hesitated at the sight of two slender women walking toward her from the cottage.
Each woman wore her hair down to her waist. One had hair as white as milk while the other's was raven black. Both had brown, weathered skin, creased with lines that develop over the course of a lifetime. They wore bright green dresses down to their ankles, black cloaks, and a rainbow of flowers in their hair. Their blue eyes sparkled brightly. They walked in rhythmical step, side by side. In unison, they smiled and said, “Hello, Astrid.”
Swallowing hard, Astrid didn't dare put Starlight away in its sheath yet. Now that they stood closer, they seemed to be surrounded by a whirlwind of aromas, dusty and old, fresh and crisp, exotic and familiar. “Who are you?”
“I am Glee,” the raven-haired woman said, “and this is my sister Fee. We are the alchemists you seek.” She not only responded in Northlander but did so with a Northlander accent.
Astrid kept a tight grip on Starlight's hilt. “How do you know who I am? And what I seek?”
Fee giggled, the sound of her laughter musical and lighter than air. The sisters beamed as if they kept a wonderful secret.
“We know everything,” Glee said, struggling to keep a straight face. Failing, Glee joined Fee in laughter, leaning on her sister for support.
Unconvinced, Astrid aimed the point of her sword at Glee's face.
“Mightiful joy!” Fee said, staring at Starlight and pointing at its blade. “Look at the dragons dancing on its blade!”
Glee gripped Fee's shoulder, squealing with delight. The sisters rushed toward the blade so quickly that Astrid tilted its point upward to prevent anyone from getting impaled on it.
The women squinted, coming so close to the sword that their noses almost touched the blade. Fee's pointing finger hovered dangerously close to the polished iron. “See how the little blue dragons shimmer and sway?”
Astrid held Starlight steady with both hands. She'd freshly sharpened its edges this morning, and if she or the women made a sudden move, she could slice their faces accidentally. “Take a step back, please.”
Oblivious, Glee said, “And see the history here.” She looked up briefly, gazing at Astrid quizzically. “I wouldn't have ventured you're a Scalding just by the look of you.” Glee nudged her sister's finger out of the way with her own. “Look at the story the twisting and smiting tells! Can you see the path of love and betrayal and the strange turnings of fate?”
Fee gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Tears brimmed in her eyes when she looked at Astrid. “So much for one so young.”
Glee shook her head, unmoved. “The girl is a Scalding. You know the portents as well as I.”
“Oh.” Fee
blinked her tears away. Her eyes cleared as if she remembered something obvious. “Of course.” She smiled apologetically at Astrid and returned her attention to Starlight.
“Portents?” Astrid said. “What portents?”
“Nothing, Dear,” Glee said absently. She pointed up the length of the blade toward its forte, the widest and strongest area. “This can't be right. Fee? What do you make of this?”
“What?” Astrid said, glancing at the blade and seeing nothing out of sorts. She wondered if the sisters imagined what they claimed to see, because most people found it difficult to make out the pattern welded into the sword unless they breathed on the polished iron, preferably on a chilly morning.
Fee studied the forte, frowning at first. “I take no issue with what it foretells.”
“Foretells?” Astrid said. “How can a sword foretell anything?”
“But look closer,” Glee said. “Near the hilt.”
Fee paused, studying the patterns in the iron. “This is a complex and complicated matter.”
“But the cost,” Glee insisted. “Consider the direction in which the results could lead.”
Squinting again, Fee reached forward to touch Starlight. Before she made contact, Astrid took a quick step back and raised the sword to position it vertically in front of her chest.
“Please don't touch with bare hands,” Astrid said. “It damages the iron.”
The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and the sudden shade made Astrid blink while her eyes adjusted to the darkened light now surrounding them. For a moment, Fee and Glee seemed to transform as if they were shapeshifting. The wind billowed up under their cloaks, rising up like wings. Their fingernails looked like talons and their hands like claws. Although Astrid realized it must have been a trick of the light, their eyes seemed to glow golden.
They couldn’t be shapeshifting. No one in the Southlands ate lizard meat or drank lizard blood because they considered it an unhealthy and unclean practice. And, of course, anyone who didn't consume lizard meat or blood didn't have the power to shift shape.
When Astrid's vision adjusted, Fee and Glee looked harmless and jovial once more.
“No harm intended, Dear,” Glee said. “We make a bad habit of investigating any source that comes our way. But that isn't why you're here.”
“You want to know about the stone that broke out of the sole of your foot,” Fee said. Pointing at Starlight, she said, “The blade tells of it.”
Suspicion gnawed at Astrid. She'd forged Starlight with her own hands many years ago, and if it contained portents she couldn't imagine how such a thing could have happened.
“She speaks of confirmation,” Glee said, winking. “We first learned of you when Master Antoni sent message by way of pigeon. Come inside where we'll be certain no prying eyes can see us and we'll take a look at your stone and tell you what we can about it.”
Astrid reminded herself what Master Antoni had said about alchemists in general, speculating that some already had tried to weasel the stone away from her because they knew or suspected its value. But true to his word, Master Antoni had provided directions to this town and to these women. He'd vouched for these alchemists.
If he trusts them, so will I.
She returned Starlight to its sheath.
Bubbling with laughter once more, Fee and Glee hooked their arms through Astrid's, flanking her while they marched toward the cottage.
CHAPTER 9
Unlike other Southland homes, Fee and Glee's cottage reminded Astrid of the Northlands. The one-room home had a blazing fire in its center hearth, and its woody smoke curled up through the hole in the thatched roof. After walking in the door, she noticed the wide floorboards and the hollow sound they made beneath her feet. She suspected a cellar lay beneath, although she saw no door to one.
Astrid paused to allow her vision to shift from the bright light of day to the fire-lit room, its edges dark and dim. Although most of the smoke escaped, the heat did not. Astrid smiled because the heat reminded her of her smithery and the joy she felt when she forged blooms of iron into swords and other weapons. Although light perspiration beaded her forehead, the warmth made her feel at home.
“We'll need the stone to examine it,” Fee said. She stepped forward to stir the fire with an iron poker.
As Astrid's vision adjusted, more of the room came into focus. A few small wooden benches surrounded the fire. Iron pots, pans, and fireplace tools hung on one wall. Shelves crowded with bottles of powders and potions lined the other walls.
Tools of the alchemist's trade.
Astrid examined the hundreds of bottles. Some were made of clear glass and others were colored green or dark blue or amber. The bottles ranged from the size of a thumbnail to the height of a toddler. On closer inspection, Astrid noticed some contained liquids, while others held balls of sticks, roots, or leaves. The contents of one particular bottle gleamed in the firelight as if it held liquid sunshine.
A large cauldron hung over the fire, and she heard something boiling inside. “Are you hungry?” Glee asked.
Before Astrid could answer, Glee scooped up a wooden bowl from a shelf and used a dipper to fill it with steaming liquid from the cauldron. Handing the bowl to Astrid, Glee said, “Soup of the sing root. Always good for whatever may ail you.”
“And equally good for what doesn't!” Fee added. The sisters giggled in unison.
Without hesitation, Astrid raised the bowl to her lips and drank. The spicy-hot taste of the sing root soothed her soul, reminding her of her friend Lenore back home in Guell, who was the best sing root hunter Astrid had ever known. The pungent aroma reminded her of the smells of the sea mixed with tangy forest plants. After a few gulps to calm a hunger she hadn't noticed until this moment, she let a mouthful of the soup rest on her tongue, savoring its other spices and herbs. Although creamier and more complex in flavor, the soup reminded her of the root stew she'd learned to make as a healing meal for dragonslayers. Moments later, she drained the bowl, surprised at how quickly the meal filled her belly and calmed her spirits.
“The world always looks like a happier place on a full stomach,” Glee said. She gazed at a row of bottles, seeming to search for something.
Fee plopped down on a bench and stuck out the palm of her hand. “Let's take a looky-see, shall we?”
With hot sing root soup in her belly, Astrid felt as light and dreamy as if she'd just taken an afternoon nap in a warm bed with a snowstorm raging outside. Not that it snowed in the Southlands. But she remembered such days during the Northland winters. Glee spoke the truth: the world was a happier place now. And Astrid could think of no reason why she shouldn't trust the alchemist sisters with her strangely dark stone.
Astrid reached into the leather pouch, recognized the cold touch of the stone, and picked it up. She handed the dark stone to Fee.
The alchemist let loose a wistful sigh as the stone touched the palm of her hand.
“Did it hurt you?” Glee said, her face creased with concern.
“Not at all,” Fee said, her voice airy and light. “It has the mightiful feel of sunlight breaking through a dark storm.” She hesitated and reconsidered as she turned the stone over. “Or perhaps it's the darkening feel of a terrible storm blackening out the sun.” She closed her eyes and shrugged. “Or perhaps it's both.” With a deep sigh, Fee opened her eyes, spat on the stone, and rubbed it onto the lower half of her dress.
Astrid noticed that when Fee lifted the hem of her bright green dress, it revealed a cream colored underdress. How odd that a Southlander would wear the double dresses fashionable among Northlander women. Then again, trade was common between nations, and women often adopted foreign fashions, even if only for a few months or so.
Glee continued her search. Her fingernails tapped against the bottles she examined, the sound of it nearly musical. Finally, she cried out, “Got you!”
Glee pulled a clear bottle of black-red powder from its shelf. Holding its cork firmly in place, she shook the
bottle hard while Fee placed the stone in the center of her lap and held the lower half of her dress taut, as if holding a tray over her knees.
“For your own protection,” Glee said to Astrid, “repeat nothing of what you see or hear today.” Removing the bottle's cork, Glee poured a small heap of powder into her own hand, and then handed the bottle and cork to Astrid. “Put the cork back in for me, please.”
Doing as she was told, Astrid watched closely while Glee sprinkled the powder over the tautly-held section of Fee's dress, the part she'd rubbed with the stone after spitting upon it. After Glee brushed the last bit of powder from her hands onto the dress, Fee gently rocked the taut fabric back and forth to distribute the powder evenly.
At the same time, Glee walked behind her sister, standing between her and the fire. Glee raised her arms over her head and pushed the heat from the flames toward the powdered dress. When she spoke, her voice deepened and lost any trace of amusement. “Promises broken and promises kept. Betwixt our worlds we beg you leapt. Moonstones, bloodstones, sunstones spark. Reveal the meaning of the dark.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the black-red powder exploded, and thin golden lines, flaming as bright as the fire, rose on Fee's dress. The lines stood vertically on the fabric while they twisted together like the iron billets used to make dragonslayer swords. The lines kept twisting together until they formed the tiny image of a woman holding a sword, her hair flying free in the wind.
A lump formed so quickly in her throat that Astrid could barely breathe. She recognized the image immediately. It was what she had forged on top of Tower Island to warn anyone tempted to invade the Northlands. It was a message announcing to the rest of the world that Northlander women were free and strong and fierce.