by Garth Nix
Tal looked at her. Why was she standing up for him?
Crow ignored Milla and turned to Gill, who stepped back a little.
"Come on, Gill. We've got to go back for the barrels."
Gill shook her head. "I'm showing Milla how to get to the heatways."
Crow scowled. "We need you to help with the airweed. She has a Spiritshadow. Let it find the way for her. Let her get lost, if it comes to that."
"I'm not an it," growled Odris. She billowed down, and Milla slipped into a fighting crouch. Suddenly conflict seemed seconds away.
"No, no!" said Jarnil. "This is all going wrong! Crow, we need to talk to these people, not fight them! Why don't you get Korvim to help with the weed?"
"Korvim and his lot have gone back," Crow replied. "To rejoin the Fatalists. Just like Linel and Drenn and all the others, because we sit around talking all the time instead of killing Chosen!"
"How many Freefolk are there?" asked Tal.
All the Freefolk began to speak at the same time. "Well, the numbers fluctuate--" began Jarnil. "Don't tell the spy--" spat Crow.
"Seven right now," said Ferek. "Counting Jarnil."
"Close it!" roared Crow. Ferek flinched, but the older boy did not follow through with any action to enforce his words.
"Close it," repeated Crow, but softer. For a second Tal thought he caught a hint of kindness in Crow's voice, as if he was sorry he'd shouted at Ferek.
"Seven
Freefolk?" asked Tal. "That's all? Counting Jarnil? What about the other Sharers of the Light? How many of them are there?"
Jarnil looked down and mumbled something.
"None left?" repeated Milla, who was the only one who had heard his words. "None at all?"
"There were only ever twelve of us," said Jarnil. "Thirteen if you count Ebbitt, though he was never formally in the group and sometimes I wondered… anyway, Rerem--your father--was one, Tal. After I I… began my new life down here, I made contact with them. But then over the years, they disappeared, one by one. Rerem was the last to go. I'm sorry, Tal, but I am sure that like the others… like the others, he must be dead."
"No, he isn't," said Tal, shaking his head. "I asked the Codex. It said
He is the Guardian of the Orange Keystone. It has been unsealed and so he does not live. Until or unless the Orange Keystone is sealed again, he does not live. If it is sealed, he will live again.'"
Tal took a deep breath and got to his feet before continuing, the words coming faster and more forcibly as he spoke.
"That's why I want to know what the Keystones are, and how they get unsealed, or sealed. And I think Milla needs to know, too, because there is something terrible going on, and we all need to sit down and talk because no matter whether we're Chosen, or Un… Freefolk, or Icecarls, or something in between, if the Veil is destroyed and the sun breaks through and shadows swarm in from Aenir, they'll kill all of us! We should be working together, instead of fighting and arguing and helping
Sushin and the Aenirans take over!"
Tal's impassioned words had the strongest effect on Ebbitt. The old man stopped pacing as he spoke and stood taller and straighter than anyone had ever seen him stand. His Spiritshadow stood at his side, a regal companion. And Ebbitt spoke with a voice that Tal had not heard from him before, an assured and somehow noble voice, without the wandering and strange humor. For a moment, Ebbitt was once again the Shadowlord of the Indigo he had once been, a great man among the Chosen.
"Seven Keystones stand in Seven Towers, forming the foundation of the veil," he pronounced. "Seven Guardians hold the secrets of the Stones. My nephew Rerem was indeed the Guardian of the Orange Keystone, as was my brother before him. If the Codex has told Tal that the Orange Keystone is unsealed, then the veil is indeed threatened. For if all seven of the Keystones fail, the veil will be destroyed."
The room was silent after Ebbitt spoke. Everyone stared at him, even Crow. Ebbitt met their looks, unblinking. Then his eyes seemed to twinkle, and his gaze shifted to the ceiling.
The silence broke as he began to speak again, his voice softer, his stance already shifting. He seemed diminished, more like his everyday, eccentric self.
"Sun and shadows," he said. "Sun and shadows. The veil may block the sun, but it cannot block the pride and greed of the Chosen. We should have obeyed Ramellan's Strictures and never returned to Aenir. Everything that will come we have brought upon ourselves."
"The Orange Keystone unsealed," echoed Jarnil. Beads of sweat had come up on his forehead. "Unsealed. My cousin Lokar was the Guardian of the Red. She disappeared a year before Rerem and…"
Jarnil's face went white and his voice almost disappeared. He drank heavily from his cup of sweet-water, as if it might bring relief from some great fear.
"I have just had the most terrible thought," he whispered. "Twenty-two years ago, Shadowlord Verrin of the Indigo disappeared without a trace, just like Lokar and Rerem. He was the first Chosen to disappear without explanation for almost a hundred years. He was probably the Guardian of the Indigo Keystone. The first to go."
Now incredibly agitated, Jarnil leapt up and gripped Ebbitt on the arm.
"Twenty-two years ago, Ebbitt! That same year that the three Chosen overstayed in Aenir!"
Ebbitt gently pulled Jarnil's fingers away, but did not speak. He kept staring up at the Sunstone in the ceiling and Tal could hear him humming some soft and doleful tune.
"What about the Chosen who stayed in Aenir?" Tal asked.
"The only one who came back was Sushin,"
whispered Jarnil. "He never explained what had happened, and disclaimed all knowledge of the other two. He was more than a month late returning, but he was not punished. Verrin disappeared soon after he came back. I would never have thought to connect them before."
"This is Chosen business," interrupted Crow, sneering. "You talk of the veil being destroyed. What does that matter to the Freefolk? We have never seen the sun in your Towers, or in your private world of Aenir. Maybe it is good the veil will be destroyed."
Milla looked at him angrily.
"You speak faster than you think," she said. "The veil is a defense, a ship-wall against shadows. It is not just the sun that would be let in, but also the many creatures of Aenir who hate and fear us. They are the ancient enemies of all our people, and they will slay Freefolk, Underfolk, Chosen, and Icecarls."
Crow shrugged, as if he could shake off Milla's words. But he did not speak, and she could tell that he didn't want to admit that he heard truth in her voice.
"How is a Keystone unsealed?" asked Tal.
Jarnil wiped the sweat from his forehead and folded his hands together before he answered, a habit Tal remembered from the Lectorium. It meant that Jarnil didn't want to admit he didn't know the answer and would talk a lot to disguise that fact.
"While the secrets of the Keystones are kept only by the Guardians," Jarnil began, "I understand that certain lengthy rituals and incantations"
"Balderdash," interrupted Ebbitt. "Also codswollop and shadowpoop. No one knows, except the six Guardians."
"Seven," corrected Jarnil, angry at being so rudely interrupted.
Ebbitt smiled and held up six fingers, closing each one in turn into his fists as he counted.
"Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo."
"And Violet," added Tal. He was used to Ebbitt's eccentricities and weird lapses of ordinary knowledge, but this was so obvious he was embarrassed for his great-uncle.
Ebbitt shook his head and smiled, a secret smile.
"The Violet Guardian is the heir of Ramellan," he said. "Not the toe, not the ear, nor the fingernail, but the heir of Ramellan. The in-hair-itor."
"The Empress," said Jarnil. He seemed relieved. "Then we need not fear for the veil so much. It would be truly terrible if Sushin and his cohorts already had the Violet Keystone."
"Why?" asked Milla.
"The Seventh Tower holds all the ancient secrets of Ramellan, all the devices and ma
chines of the ancient magic," said Jarnil. "Whoever controls the Violet Keystone controls the Tower. Fortunately, while the Empress is obviously unaware of the machinations of her Dark Vizier, she would never entrust control of the Violet Keystone to anyone but herself. We can rest easy on that one Keystone, at least."
Ebbitt held up an imaginary book and turned some imaginary pages. It seemed that he had no trouble seeing the book himself, because he traced the first line with his finger, reciting.
" 'The Empress Kathild, first of her line, came to the throne of Ramellan in unusual circumstances. Controversy surrounded the death of Emperor Mercur, and his funeral was irregular and rushed, with no lying in state, giving rise to talk that he had been hideously assassinated and the body was not fit to view.'"
"That's from Kimerl's
History,"
protested Jarnil. "She was totally discredited years ago and the book banned. I fail to see any relevance in it, or may I say it, in you, Ebbitt. Really, anyone would think you were the one who came out of the Hall of Nightmares!"
"Talk, talk, talk," said Crow. "That's all that ever happens here. If the veil is in danger, and all of us because of it, what are we going to do? And what's in it for the Freefolk?"
"I will take word to the Crones," said Milla. "They will know what to do."
"I think we need to take a look at one of the Keystones," said Tal slowly. He was still thinking it through. "Maybe if we can work out how to seal it again, it would bring back the Guardian. Or if we find one that's still sealed, we could take it away, so Sushin couldn't get at it."
"I doubt if the Keystones can be moved," said Jarnil. "Since they are part of the Towers and the Veil. But your plan has merit, my boy. If we can release even one Guardian, they can tell us what we must do. And the Empress would surely believe us if we had one of the Guardians to tell their story. Even against the Dark Vizier. But who will go, and to which tower?"
"I will go," said Tal. "To the Orange Tower, to free my father."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"That is ill thought," Milla protested. "Where is your battle sense? Sushin has already laid a trap for you with your brother as the bait. There will surely be other traps, and better ones now, laid around your father and your mother. You should seek a different Guardian in a different Tower."
"You will need help to reach the Tower," said Jarnil. "Crow--"
"Forget it!" interrupted Crow. "Like I said, what's in it for us? If we help the Chosen fix the Veil, then everything stays the same. You say the Aenirans will kill us all, but maybe they'll only kill the Chosen."
"You have a Sunstone," said Jarnil. "I have taught you how to use it. Under the plan of the Sharers of the Light, you would become a Chosen.
The Empress will be grateful if we save the veil. I am sure you would be raised up."
"I don't want to be raised up!" Crow screamed. "I want all of our people to be free!"
Bennem made a sound deep in his throat and stood up, looking wildly from side to side. Crow immediately quieted and went to his brother's side, sitting the big man back down.
"I want us to be free," he continued, his voice quite soft. "No more Underfolk, no more Chosen. I will only help you save the veil if you all promise to help free my people."
"I will take your words to the Crones," said Milla. "They will weigh them with the other news I bring. I can do no more than that."
Tal looked at Jarnil and Ebbitt. Jarnil was frowning, his face now as red as it had been white a few minutes before. He was obviously very angry with Crow. Ebbitt, on the other hand, was looking at Bennem. Tal looked, too, meeting the man's soft, unseeing eyes.
"I don't know what I can do, and I won't help kill Chosen or anything like that," Tal said hesitantly, still looking at Bennem. "But if you help us, I will do what I can to… change things and make sure that the Underfolk become Freefolk."
Crow looked at Tal with suspicion.
"I suppose that's better than nothing," he said grudgingly. "But you'd better do what you say."
Milla drew the knife she'd taken from Gill and said, "Do you wish me to make the cuts for the swearing?"
"No," said Tal, looking away. "That's not the way we do things here."
Crow shook his head, too.
"A bond without blood is a bond soon broken," warned Milla. "And Crow has not spoken his part of the bond."
Tal looked back and met Crow's eyes. He could not see the burning hatred he'd seen before, but neither could he work out what the older boy was thinking.
"I'll help you get to the Tower," said Crow, but he hooded his eyes as he spoke. "And seal the Keystone or whatever it is we have to do."
Tal nodded. He noticed that Crow had not mentioned helping him come back from the Tower. But perhaps that was simply an oversight, not a thinly shrouded threat.
"And you, old man?" Crow asked Jarnil. There was little respect in his voice now. "Are you still dreaming about good little Underfolk lining up to be tested and joining the Chosen?"
"No," whispered Jarnil sadly. "You were a good boy, Crow. I fear you will not be a good man. All I ask is that you help Tal now. As you say, I am too old and broken, and I can only hope that we will save the Veil and nothing worse will come to either of our peoples. Come, Bennem. It is time to rest."
"I will leave after a short sleep," said Milla. "If Gill will still guide me."
Tal looked at her. In all the talk about the Veil and the Keystones, he had forgotten about Milla and her desire to return to the Ice. But he couldn't think of any way to stop her. Besides, a small part of his mind was telling him they might need the help of the Icecarls, though he was reluctant to admit that.
"We could use your help in the Tower," Tal said, as he desperately tried to think of something that would convince Milla she should not go. "That might be more important than telling the Crones."
"No," said Milla, very firmly.
"What about if…" Tal said, racking his brains. It was his fault Milla had lost her own shadow. If she was punished or punished herself later it would almost be as if he'd killed her himself.
"What if the Crones want to know more?" Tal said, an idea suddenly coming to him. "I mean, they can talk to one another in their heads or something, can't they? So if one needs to come back here, you'll have to guide her."
"I can tell others the way," said Milla. "If a Crone comes, she will choose Shield Maidens to guide and protect her. I am not a Shield Maiden."
Only Tal caught the slight shiver in Milla's speech as she said "I am not a Shield Maiden." For a moment he thought he'd imagined it, but it was there, the only sign he had ever seen of Milla almost losing control. It was almost as if he had seen her cry, something she had never done, even when terribly wounded by the Merwin.
"I don't think we should be inviting anyone to the Castle," said Jarnil nervously. "While I'm sure Milla and her people mean well, I think the situation with the Veil is best left to us here to deal with."
Milla looked at him, and then around the room at the pitifully small gathering. There was Jarnil, an old man and, as he had said himself, broken by the Hall of Nightmares. There was Ebbitt, who was a force to be reckoned with, but not to be depended upon. There was Bennem, who looked like a mighty warrior, but was a permanent sleepwalker, trapped inside his own head. There was Tal, whom she half hated for what he had done, but who was as close to her as anyone had ever been, an alien brother who was neither predictable nor easily understood. But he was brave, and had growing powers. There was Crow, whom she knew little about, save that his bitterness and anger boiled so hot that he was a danger to friend as well as enemy. There were the other four Freefolk, hardy and resourceful, but hardly trained warriors.
Taken together, they were little to pit against the Sushin monster, his guards, Fashnek, and who knew how many Spiritshadows.
"I think you do not know the true strength and nature of the enemy," said Milla to Jarnil. "The Crones will decide what the Icecarls must do. After all, it was not just y
our Ramellan that defeated the Aenirans so long ago. It was our Danir, too. You should not fear our help."
But they would fear, Milla knew, and perhaps they were right to do so. She was fairly certain what the Crones would do when they heard the news of free shadows in the Castle and the unsealed Keystones.
They would summon every Shield Maiden, Sword-Thane, and available hunter to the Ruin
Ship. A great host of Icecarls would be gathered, with a single aim:
To take control of the Castle and return all shadows to Aenir.
She doubted that any Chosen, whether under Sushin's sway or not, would let that happen without a fight.
Soon, there would be war upon the Mountain of Light.
Milla was not sure whether to be glad or sorry that she would have no part in it. By then, she would have long since paid the price of her failings out on the Ice.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There were many beds to choose from in the Freefolk Fortress. Obviously there had once been many more people to sleep in them. But Tal was too tired to think about that. His wounded leg and the aftereffects of the water spider venom still troubled him. He was able to stay awake only long enough to complain about the Freefolk's primitive toilet and washing facilities (a stinking privy and cold water) before collapsing gratefully into a bed that was superior to most of the places he'd slept in the last few weeks.
When he woke, ten hours later according to his Sunstone, Milla was gone, with Odris. Adras was also missing. Tal woke feeling strangely stretched, with a splitting headache. It took him a little while to realize that this was due to his Spiritshadow's absence.
Adras returned only a few minutes later, drifting dejectedly into the central courtyard around the well.
"Where have you been?" asked Tal grumpily. He was cross from his headache, and because Milla had gone without saying good-bye. He was also grappling with guilt. Milla's fate was entirely his fault.
"Following Odris," replied the Spiritshadow. "But I had to come back, because of this stupid connection between us. Ow!"
He stabbed at his chest with one great puffy finger, his third jab a little too hard.
"Did you see any guards or other Chosen?" asked Tal, rubbing his own chest. He'd developed a sympathetic pain there as well.