by Karen Myers
“The way-owner has special privileges. He can go back and forth at will. He can guide others through the way. He can create way-tokens, if he has the skill, and confer that ability on others, subordinate to his own control, and he can transfer that ability directly to others, permanently.
“What he does with the way depends upon circumstances. Private individuals can set up tolls for use and guide parties through the way, if their ruler permits. Way-finders working for the great lords can hand the ways over to them and make way-tokens for use. A way can be made public and open, for all to use, or it can be closed. It can also be hidden, so that very few even among the skilled can detect it.”
*Wait.*
“Hold up,” George said. “She’s thinking about all this.”
*Picture of ways that George showed her, in the river meadow. Picture of ways she echoed back. Question?*
“Not sure what you’re asking, Mag,” he said. “Is it that we saw the same ways from that location?”
*Agreement. Picture of ways she echoed back, much more detail. The Blue Ridge a blaze of markings.*
“When I tried to tell her we were going to Edgewood, I pictured a map with the local ways marked, and she echoed back something similar but in finer detail. Now she’s shown me hundreds of ways, deep within the Blue Ridge. Not sure why.” He asked Rhodri, “Can you sense them?”
“No. We’ve always believed rock is an effective mask against the detection of a way. How about you?”
“Me, neither.”
*Picture of Edgewood, barrier marked.*
“What about the barrier, Mag?”
*Frustration.*
“There’s something she wants to say about the barrier but it’s too hard.”
“Let’s get back to Madog,” Ceridwen said. “The most inexplicable thing about him is that he can apparently create ways. We know of at least the Hidden Way that George destroyed after the great hunt and the Archer’s Way.”
Seething Magma made agitated movements for attention and all eyes turned to her. *Picture of Archer’s Way exit at river meadow. Picture of Granite Cloud.*
“Did Cloudie go through the Archer’s Way, Mag? Is that what you’re saying?”
Two knocks. No.
“Did Cloudie make the Archer’s Way?” Rhodri asked.
One knock. Yes.
“How do you know?” George said.
*Picture of eating rock. Picture of Granite Cloud.*
George took a stab at the metaphor. “It… tasted like her?”
One knock.
“So, Granite Cloud made the Archer’s Way for Madog,” Ceridwen said. “We know she wants to come home and her mother says she’s not able to. This sounds to me like Madog can make her do what he wants.”
One knock.
“How can he control her?” George said. “How would you control Mag?”
They all looked at the massive form in front of them and shook their heads.
*Picture of a way. Picture of a man touching it. Picture of Granite Cloud. Picture of a man touching her.*
“No…” George didn’t want to think he understood. “Madog can control Cloudie because she’s like a way, fundamentally? He can claim and own her?”
One knock. Yes. Three knocks. I don’t know.
George heard the exclamations of outrage rise in the room. He felt it himself—enslaving a small child for hundreds of years—and had to make himself walk away for a few paces to calm down.
He returned to her side and asked the room at large, “How does a way-owner lose what he owns?”
Rhodri said, quietly, “He gives it away. Or he dies without doing so.”
Mag, you’re in danger yourself, then, from Rhodri or me, George thought. You’re not safe here.
*Calm. Picture of George. Picture of Rhodri. Picture of window glass.*
He rubbed his face. “I pointed out to Mag that she herself might be at risk from Rhodri or me, if this is true.”
Edern said, dryly, “And yet she’s still here.”
“She, um, implied that the two of us were reasonably transparent to her.”
Rhodri cleared his throat at that.
Rhys said, “So she trusts us because she can see into us well enough.”
One knock.
“Well, that’s a compliment, I suppose,” Edern said.
Eluned made an observation that stilled the room. “You realize this rules out the obvious approach, of Seething Magma just making a way into Madog’s domain to rescue her child directly. Madog could claim her, assuming she could even locate him.”
“That’s why you’re looking for help?” George asked her.
*Agreement. Picture of Mag going to Granite Cloud. Picture of Granite Cloud preventing her.*
“Cloudie warned her not to come,” he said.
Rhys rose from his seat and bowed to Mag. “My lady, I pledge our help for the rescue of your child from our mutual enemy. It make take us a few days to form a plan with some reasonable chance of success. Can you wait that long, working with us?”
She held herself still, lifted her front end slightly and dipped it. *Agreement. Gratitude.*
“Huntsman,” Rhys said, “I put her in your charge to look after.”
George nodded, and they agreed to reconvene to discuss the local Edgewood issues before dinner.
CHAPTER 10
It was a larger and more relaxed group that met with Rhys before dinner. Rhys had discussed the venue with Edern beforehand and agreed that keeping the meeting in the conservatory was advisable. They wanted George there, and Mag came with George, so best to use the room that could accommodate them all.
As Rhys walked in and looked at the impromptu lineup of tables with chairs around the perimeter, approximating the long table in his council room, he was reasonably satisfied with the arrangement. He’d spent years watching his foster-father maintain the dignity of his station without pomp, and recognized that a formal table with a clear master at the top was part of the necessary trappings. People cooperated better when their expectations were met.
He stretched his hands by his side and shook them in the air as he walked to his seat, preparing to take charge of yet another set of complications at Edgewood. His great-aunt Creiddylad had left a thorough mess and people were suffering badly. It made a great deal of work for him and his staff, recreating an effective government from scratch, but he could feel himself running at his strongest for the first time in his life, eager to test his wings. His greatest fear before he arrived, that the task would be beyond him, was already long gone.
His council members and their counterparts from Gwyn’s court were all there, as well as the leaders of this most recent set of settlers and a few others.
Seething Magma stood quietly in one corner of the room, and everyone’s eyes slipped to her unobtrusively as they came in. George had seated himself away from the table to stay near her, and Benitoe kept him company.
Rhys took his seat. “Thank you all for coming. We need to coordinate the activities of the next several days so as to waste as little time as possible. I want to start with our chancellor’s list, and if we’ve left off anything important, there’ll be time for you to bring it up at the end.”
He looked around the table, and heads nodded.
Edern said, “Our first order of business is to make sure the new settlers find appropriate destinations. The steward here,” gesturing Cadugan beside him, “is coordinating all the lists of people and places. If you have a craft you’d like to establish, a farm you’d like to build, a family member you’re looking for, he’s the one you must speak with. He’ll be available in the great hall, after dinner and after breakfast tomorrow, for everyone to come and speak to.
“As you know, we have two other villages here besides the one nearby, and all have both needs and opportunities for settlers. At mid-day tomorrow, and again on the day after, Lleision, our marshal, will escort the groups going to each one to make sure they reach their destinations without dif
ficulty. When you speak to Cadugan, he’ll help you sort that out.
“We have many abandoned farms, and ruined houses and craft shops in the villages, and these will be made available to you on very favorable terms. Our only requirement is that you help us by employing local workers wherever you can, and apprenticing them to your crafts where possible.
“It has not been hidden from you that something dire has happened to our residents. Many, perhaps most, seem deceptively normal if rather quiet, but further from the center, many seem almost sick or damaged, in mind if not in body. We’re still seeking the causes. Those who have preceded you as settlers in the past few weeks have not reported any symptoms themselves.”
Rhys noted the look of apprehension on Meilyr’s face when Edern ticked off the ways in which the fae population seem to have suffered.
He took over from Edern for the next topic. “Ceridwen and Eluned will be reestablishing schools and hospitals as quickly as possible. Eluned is helping Cadugan compile the list of family members sought so, if you can’t find Cadugan, speak to Eluned. They will be traveling to each village in the process of their work. If you or any in your party can help with schooling or nursing, please make yourselves known to them.”
Meilyr spoke up. “We have several young children with us that need to continue their education. What should we do?”
Eluned said, “Identify yourselves to Cadugan or me, and let us know where you decide to live. We’ll be arranging classes soon.”
Rhys turned to Benitoe, sitting away from the table with George. “Benitoe, I understand that you’ve been charged by seniors among your people to find out what’s happened to the lutins who were here. Your party are the first lutins to arrive since the succession.”
Benitoe stood to face him, and nodded.
“If mistress Rozenn will permit, I’d like to task you with the leadership of that activity here, for all the lutins. Cadugan will share with you all the information he can collect, and provide whatever resources you need. The rest of the lutin party can follow the lead of the others in deciding where to live and what livelihood they want to pursue. Will you do that?”
“It’s why I came. Thank you, my lord.”
Rhys hated to be so formal with him. Just a few weeks ago they’d both been whippers-in supporting George as huntsman for the great hunt. He was cheered to see Benitoe give him a barely visible wink as he sat down again.
Edern took up the next item on the list. “Masters Tiernoc and Broch, those of you who wish to settle are just as welcome as all of these. I understand that you have some additional plans, however?”
Tiernoc said, “My friend Broch and I have discussed this and we propose the following. We came with four objectives, and now we have five. First, several of us just wish to take up their crafts, as the rest are doing. Second, there have always been special ore deposits known or suspected in this region, and some of us want to check on the mines that were started, to see what’s happened.
“Third, we have those who seek family members and would greatly appreciate your help in locating them or in discovering their fate. Lastly, on our original list, we have several who do not intend to settle here, exactly, but who want to re-establish the trade networks that were disrupted so many years ago. Some of them may live here, as a headquarters, but others are already settled elsewhere and are looking to build local outposts.”
Edern said, “Look to Cadugan for help with all of these things. The sooner we can establish reliable trade, the better.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Tiernoc said. “We also have a new request. Never could we have imagined that one of the Old Ones would make herself known to us and seek our help. There is none among us who would not willingly drop everything for this task. We’d like to be remembered in any planning that comes of it. If there is any way we can help, we want to know.”
Rhys said, “We’ll do so, and thank you for your offer.”
He looked over at George. “George, please work with Rhodri to find out whatever you can from Seething Magma. We need a plan.”
Eluned said, “I’ll help when I can, just let me know your schedule as you work it out.”
George said, “I think we need some practical experiments as soon as possible.”
*Approval.*
He looked back at Mag and continued. “I was thinking that we could go back to the Archer’s Way tomorrow to do that and, while I’m so close, there’s no reason I can’t guide anyone who wants to go back to Gwyn at Daear Llosg.”
Idris spoke to that. “Rhys, if you can spare me, I’d like to get my men back to Gwyn. Lleision seems to have your defense well in hand, and my troop was intended just in case you were under attack here. I can give him a report to bring him up to date.”
“Agreed,” Rhys said. That would lessen the crowd in the barracks and they weren’t really needed here.
“I’ll write up something for him, too,” Ceridwen said. “Get it from me before you go.”
Rhys added, “We have messages as well, since the closing of the Edgewood Way on Saturday.”
Idris looked over at George. “After breakfast, huntsman?”
A quick glance round to Rhodri, and George replied, “Fine.”
Rhys caught Edern’s eye. Edern said, “Anything else?”
The crowd was silent. As Rhys had planned, the appetizing smells of dinner had helped ensure the shortness of the session.
As the room emptied, Rhys saw Cydifor ask George a question and smile at the response. He lingered in the background, trying not to be noticed. He’s persistent, Rhys thought to himself, and walked over to greet him.
“So, you’re my new musician, are you?” he teased.
Cydifor blushed to the roots of his red hair. “My lord, the huntsman had no business saying so. I had only just spoken to lord Rhodri about the possibility.”
“Don’t worry, no harm done. George was just poking at me a little. I used to work for him,” Rhys said. “Tell me about where you’re from.”
Oh, no, he looked panicked again. “From Tredin, my lord.”
Rhys couldn’t help himself. He laughed out loud. “I see. Couldn’t get any further away, is it?”
Cydifor gave a sheepish nod.
“Well, relax. Maybe you and Rhodri can play for us all, later tonight.”
Panic again. “We haven’t practiced with each other at all, my lord.”
“Do I look old enough to be able to tell the difference?” As they walked out together, Rhys reminded himself to thank George for sending him someone who could distract him from his work.
George sat alone in the conservatory with Seething Magma before going into dinner. Cydifor had asked if he could come along tomorrow, for the experiments, and George agreed. Now he watched him leave, chatting shyly with Rhys, and was pleased with the success of his joke earlier. He’d given them something mutual to complain about.
“Better, now that they’ve all left?” he asked.
*Picture of a groove being worn into bedrock.*
Hmm, that’s a tough one. “They’re wearing you down?”
*Amusement.* Two knocks.
“Um, a repeated action, a custom? Ah. You’re getting used to it?”
*Yes.*
“Could you follow much of what’s going on?”
*Picture of little frogs lined up around the edge of a puddle. Big frog lands in the middle, little frogs scatter in all directions.*
“Well, that’s a bit unfair.” He tried to use her methods: picture of a clockwork mechanism with moving parts and Rhys as a key turning it.
One knock.
“How will you eat? Can I get you food or a place to sleep?”
*Not needed. Picture of Mag in woods, wrapped around a boulder.*
“Well, as you like. You know how to find me.” He tapped his head. “I need to go in to dinner soon. Come here after dinner, there will be music.”
*Question?*
“Ah, you don’t know it. You might find it interesting
. It’s one of our art forms, an entertainment for us.” He thought of Angharad singing, for a moment.
*Picture of green arrow pendant. Question?*
Must be on my mind, he thought. “That’s a gift from my wife, Angharad. Shall I show you?”
One knock.
He pulled the pendant on its cord out from under his shirt and lifted it up over his head. When he let it dangle, the arrow pointed almost due south.
“It’s a little bit of magic. It points to her, to remind me of home.”
*Picture of George and Angharad, picture of little person. Question?*
“No, no children yet. Soon, I hope. We’re only just married.”
*Picture of George budding, picture of Angharad budding. Question?*
He laughed out loud. “Angharad would be the mother, like you.” He tucked the pendant back under his shirt.
*Picture of brass compass. Question?*
She follows all the references I think of. “I have a device from my world that we use to tell direction. Angharad’s arrow reminded me of it.”
He pulled the compass out on his watch chain and showed her. He pictured for her his best understanding of the spinning iron core of the earth and the magnetic field, how it occasionally reversed, and how the needle pointed to magnetic north.
She surprised him by extending the forward edge of her mantle to touch it. He relinquished it somewhat reluctantly, fearing its destruction, but she was very delicate with it, holding it in a sort of living cage as if to feel it from all sides.
She withdrew her mantle from it and let it fall into his hand again. *Picture of rocks, pointing one way, more rocks, pointing the opposite way, repeated.*
“Iron in molten rocks holds the magnetic signature of the era when they solidified and captures the pattern of reversals. Is that what you mean?”
One knock. Two knocks. One knock.