The Magicseeker shrugged, but his tone was less hostile as he said, “I see no reason not to.”
“Can you speak for your companions as well?” Miracote demanded.
“They’re reasonable people,” the Magicseeker said, in a tone that implied Miracote wasn’t. “And as your friend said a minute ago, there’s nothing left here for us to fight over.”
“Go, then,” Corrana said.
Miracote’s eyes narrowed at Corrana’s assumption of authority, but she was too shrewd to correct the Elder Sister in front of a stranger and enemy. The Magicseeker gave Corrana and Kayl each a brief nod of farewell, looked at Miracote with dislike, and strode off toward the forest that bordered the valley. “He’ll find few of his companions to persuade,” Miracote said with some satisfaction as she watched him go. “The creature killed most of them.”
“Without his help in the Tower, we would all have died,” Kayl said coldly.
Miracote looked at her. “He’s a Magicseeker. Don’t ask me to feel sorry for him.”
Kayl suppressed a wave of irritation and said, “I won’t. What can we help with here?”
Miracote put them to work helping Risper with the wounded. The second healer had been among the fatalities, so Risper was forced to tend all of the most severely injured herself. She had little time or energy for anyone else. Kayl cleaned and bandaged flesh wounds, cuts and scrapes for close to two hours. Then she joined the more able-bodied in burying the dead.
Alden and Xaya arrived shortly after the Tower’s fall, drawn by the noise of the collapse. They were relieved to find Bryn only slightly injured, and volunteered almost at once to be part of a group heading back to the camp for supplies. By noon they had returned with Risper’s bags of medicine, two tents to shelter the wounded, and enough flatbread and yellow cheese to provide lunch for everyone. They also brought several brimming waterskins, for which everyone was grateful. A brackish trickle at the far end of the valley was the only source of water near the Twisted Tower, and Risper, after one look at a sample, had refused to allow anyone to drink from it.
Several more trips were made back to the camp on the other side of the hills, for it quickly became evident that they would have to spend the night in the valley. Risper refused to allow certain of the wounded to be moved, Glyndon among them, and there no longer seemed to be a good reason to avoid camping in the valley. Kayl did not argue with the decision. As she set up the tent for herself and the children, however, she made sure that every particle of black stone had been removed from the ground beneath the tent. Most of the Sisters copied her precaution.
By evening, the camp had been moved to the valley. Things began to look more normal, though the atmosphere remained subdued. Neither grief nor victory had had time to penetrate the minds of the survivors; that, Kayl knew from experience, would come with the morrow.
Over dinner, Kayl and Corrana told their story to the remnant of the expedition, omitting only the exact details of their brief experience with the magic of the Crystal. When they finished, Elder Mother Alessa stirred. “So the crystal cube is gone,” she said.
“It’s such a waste,” Ferianek said in a mournful tone. “A thing that could actually show the past! We could have learned so much from it.”
Alessa gave him a sharp look. “Indeed we could.”
“We had no other choice,” Kayl said firmly. “Not really.”
“No?” Alessa said skeptically. “You could not have used it as the Varnan did, instead of destroying it?”
Corrana’s eyes met Kayl’s briefly, and a message of understanding passed between them. “No,” said Corrana. “We could not have used the Crystal.”
“What we did was the only possible way to kill that black thing,” Kayl added. “And it had to be killed. You had a brief taste of it; imagine what it would have done if we hadn’t stopped it here!”
“But how did it get out of the Twisted Tower?” one of the sorceresses asked. “It shouldn’t have been able to get out. The door was sealed; it shouldn’t have come out.”
Kayl recognized the woman and felt a deep pang of sympathy. Of the four members of her Star Cluster, two had been killed by the black creature. Kayl knew all too well what that was like.
“I cannot say for certain what set the creature free,” Corrana said. “I can, however, speculate. I believe the chip of crystal broke the seals that held the creature inside the Tower.”
“I don’t understand,” the woman said.
“When Kayl brought the chip into the Twisted Tower, Glyndon and Barthelmy had weakened the sealing spells. If they had not, the spells would have killed anyone who tried to enter. But when Glyndon realized that Magicseekers had also come into the Tower, he used the power of the crystal cube to renew the spells that sealed the doors. Thus, when Utrilo’s swordswoman tried to carry the chip out of the Tower, it passed through the full strength of the spell. I think the spell could not hold against even a small piece of the Crystal which powered it, and so the sealing was broken.”
“What of the chip itself?” Miracote said, leaning forward.
Corrana shrugged delicately. “I looked for it, but all I found was the body of the Magicseeker who carried it. Perhaps passing through the seal was too great a strain for it to bear, and it crumbled like the Tower.”
“Ah.” Miracote sat back not bothering to hide her disappointment. “Then we have nothing to show for all our efforts.”
“We have our magic again,” Corrana said gently. “I think that is enough.” Her eyes flickered across Kayl’s as she spoke.
Kayl nodded, acknowledging Corrana’s unspoken message in a way that the others would take as agreement. She was careful to keep her hands in her lap, away from the small, hard lump under her belt. She was sure now that Corrana suspected Kayl of having the chip; this was Corrana’s way of showing that she would not mention her suspicions to anyone else. Kayl was glad. She had been the first to find the body of the Magicseeker, and she had spotted the chip of crystal at once, lying in the dust less than a hand’s breadth from the outstretched fingers. She had taken it and gone on, leaving the body for someone else to discover.
What she would do with the chip, Kayl did not know. Touching it no longer brought her visions of her past, and she was not magician enough to discover and use whatever other powers it possessed. She only knew that she could not give it to the Sisterhood, and she did not want to spend any more of her time in fruitless arguments with them. She was grateful to Corrana for sparing her that.
“We still do not know what took our magic from us, or how it was returned,” Alessa pointed out. She gave Barthelmy a sidelong glance as she spoke.
“Your spells came back with the destruction of the Twisted Tower,” Kayl contradicted sharply. “Do you have to know for certain whether it was the creature, the Crystal, or the Tower itself that took them?”
“Yes.” Alessa’s voice was sharp, and there were nods of agreement among the Sisters. “We must be sure it cannot happen again.”
“It cannot,” Corrana said quietly.
Alessa’s attention snapped from Kayl to Corrana. “You do not know that.”
“My knowledge comes from Gadeiron’s Crystal,” Corrana said, lifting her eyebrows fractionally. “I doubt that it is false.”
Kayl looked at her, startled. So Corrana, too, had been able to draw information from the Crystal! Somehow it had not occurred to Kayl that the sorceress might have done so.
“Explain, then,” Miracote commanded.
“Our difficulty stemmed from the nature of our magic,” Corrana said. “Our founders chose to tie our powers to our names, as the magic of the sklathran’sy is bound to theirs. In a way I do not completely understand, the black creature was an ancient enemy of the sklathran’sy, and its attacks on them came most often through their magic. Through their names.
“When our Sisters,” Corrana nodded toward Kayl and Barthelmy, “breached the Tower sixteen years ago, and Gadeiron’s Crystal was broken, the spe
lls that held the creature were weakened enough to let it wake, but it was still bound within the Tower. When it found no physical way out, it sought a magical means of escape.
“It must have learned our ways when it killed Varevice and Evla, and since our magic is similar to that of the sklathran’sy, the creature attacked us as it would have attacked a group of demons. But there are no demons in the Sisterhood, and it could not control us through our magic as it could have controlled sklathran’sy. All it could do was to feed on our power. But its feeding disrupted our spells, and we felt its evil, and so we all but ceased to work magic. And when we did not call on our power, the creature could not reach it without great effort. That is why it took so long to grow strong enough to call someone to the Tower who would be more… amenable to its desires.”
“Utrilo Levoil,” Kayl said.
Corrana nodded. “I think the creature was not able to convey very much, but it was enough to make the Magicseekers look more closely at what they knew of the Sisterhood’s two expeditions to the Tower. When they realized that one of those who had accompanied the first group had left the Sisterhood, they began searching for you.” Corrana smiled suddenly. “I do not think they quite believed that a common innkeeper could possibly be the woman they sought. It is why they watched you for so long, instead of taking you at once. A mistake would have been embarrassing.”
“Then when the black creature—we really must find some other way to name it—was destroyed, it ceased feeding on our magic and we could use our power freely again,” Alessa said. “A tidy tale. But why was Elder Sister Barthelmy not affected?”
Barthelmy stiffened, but Corrana only smiled again. “Barthelmy is a demon-friend, trained to teach sklathran’sy to protect themselves from vulnerability through their names. I think the creature reached for her during the fight in the Tower, and she unconsciously used her skills to protect herself. Any of our demon-friends could have done as much, had they actually faced the creature. The creature learned quickly; its attack on the Sisterhood was subtle enough not to cause the same response in anyone else.”
Elder Mother Miracote snorted in disgust. “If we had known, we could have stopped that thing before it ever started.”
“Perhaps.” Corrana’s tone was thoughtful. “But I think it would have found some other way.”
“We still don’t know enough!” Barthelmy said in frustration. “What was that black thing, really? And why did touching the cube freeze it? And—”
“There is little point in worrying over answers we shall probably never get,” Corrana interrupted.
“And I, for one, have had a very long day,” Kayl said. “I want some rest.”
There were smiles among the Sisters, and Miracote said, “So do we all. Enough, for now; we will talk again later.”
They spent nearly two weeks camping in the valley, while the wounded recovered and the Elder Mothers studied the ruins of the Twisted Tower. Four days after the Tower’s fall, when most of the injured were well enough to attend, they held a memorial for their dead. The day after, they moved the camp to the forested slopes above the valley. They saw the remnant of the Magicseekers only once, when they came to the valley to bury their comrades. The two groups stayed well apart from each other, and there was no trouble.
Kayl divided her time almost equally between her children and Glyndon. She made sure that Mark and Dara both knew how proud she was of them, but she could see that, though they appreciated her words, they did not have the same need to hear them that they used to. They knew they had done well. There was a new confidence in both children; Kayl could see it in their eyes and in the way they carried themselves, even when they ran shrieking up and down the hills with Xaya. It made her prouder than ever, though a little sad. Mark and Dara were rapidly growing up.
The Wyrds expressed a firm determination to stay with the camp until the Sisters were ready to depart for Kith Alunel. Kayl did not bother trying to fathom their reasons; she was simply glad of their presence. Bryn’s skills as a handywoman were much in demand, and Alden made himself useful to the group studying the ruins of the Tower. Kayl found him there late one afternoon, sifting shards of night-black stone through his fingers.
“Ho, Alden!” she greeted him. “Bryn says to tell you that if you’re late to dinner again, she and Xaya are going to eat your share.”
“It can’t be that late already,” Alden said absently. “Have you looked at these?” He waved at the stones in front of him. “There are two distinct types. Three, if you include the blocks the Tower itself was made of, but they seem to be ordinary granite.”
“What are the other two?” Kayl asked, more out of friendship than curiosity.
“One’s a hard, jet-black rock; that’s all over. The other is a kind of brittle crystalline stuff—”
“You mean you’ve found pieces of the cube?” Kayl broke in.
“I don’t think so,” Alden said, undisturbed by her interruption. “You described it as clear, didn’t you? Well, look at this.”
He held up a slender piece of stone. Kayl thought at first that it was the same as the rest of the black debris; then she looked more closely and saw that it was partially transparent. “It looks like smoked crystal,” she said. “But I’ve never seen any so dark.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Alden lowered the stone and studied it again. “It would cut well, I think; so would the other.”
“Cut well?” Kayl said, puzzled.
“I mean they’d be easy to shape.”
“Shape? You mean for jewelry?” Kayl shuddered, thinking of the black creature. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Alden looked up and grinned. “You’re quite right. I’m afraid I get carried away at times.” He tossed the smoky crystal back onto a pile of rubble, then rose and accompanied Kayl back to camp.
Ferianek Trone also remained with the camp, helping as best he could. Kayl considered it the least he could do after the way he had used them all, but she found it hard to be angry at the tall, deep-voiced scholar. The ties that held him to the Windhome Mountains had been broken at last, and he had already approached the Elder Mothers about accompanying them back to Kith Alunel.
The work at the Tower ruins uncovered little, and the Sisters began preparing to leave. Kayl watched them thoughtfully, then went off to the woods to hunt and think. When she returned, she sought out Elder Mother Miracote and spoke briefly with her. An hour later, Barthelmy came to find her.
Kayl looked up from the branch she was whittling a point on to replace a broken tent-stake. “What is it, Barthelmy?”
“Elder Mother Miracote says you’re not coming back to Kith Alunel with us,” Barthelmy said. “Is that true?”
“Yes.”
Barthelmy was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Why?”
“I thought it would be better. There’s nothing waiting for me in Kith Alunel; there’s no point in going back.”
“It isn’t because of me, is it?” Barthelmy asked, and looked away as if she was afraid to know the answer.
“No,” Kayl said gently. “It’s because of me. I’m not one of you anymore, Barthelmy, not even in my dreams. My sword and star-gem are buried out there under a mountain of rubble, if the black creature didn’t destroy them completely, and I’m not sorry.”
“The attitude of the other Sisters has changed since Corrana explained what really happened to their magic,” Barthelmy offered.
“I’ve noticed.” Most of the suspicion and resentment the Sisters felt toward Kayl and Barthelmy had died with the black creature. When the shock and grief that followed the battle had worn off, a few of the Sisters had made tentative, apologetic overtures toward Kayl. She had acknowledged them politely, but they had not brought her the satisfaction they once would have. “I just don’t belong in the Sisterhood anymore.”
“It’s Glyndon, then, isn’t it?”
“Barthelmy!” Kayl let her irritation show. “Glyndon doesn’t know about this yet, and I don’t wa
nt him told. I’ve given you my reasons for leaving the expedition; stop trying to find other excuses.”
“You mean it, don’t you?” Barthelmy said. Kayl nodded emphatically. Barthelmy’s shoulders moved unhappily. “I think I always knew you wouldn’t come back, but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted things to be the way they used to be. The Sisterhood meant so much to both of us. To me, it still does.”
“I know. But you can’t live in the past, Barthelmy, and you can’t make the present into a reflection of it. It doesn’t work.”
“No.” Barthelmy was quiet for a moment. “What will you do now?”
Kayl grinned, feeling suddenly like a mischievous fifteen-year-old. “I don’t know. I’ll write when I find out, all right?”
“You’d better.” Barthelmy said, returning the grin. “You’d just better.”
Glyndon was recovering slowly. He had spent four days in bed, and only slowly begun moving around the camp. He had not had one of his visions since the Tower fell. His left arm was still in a sling; Risper had said in Kayl’s hearing that he would have to wear it for five or six more weeks, at least. Kayl had done more than her share of the shifts of caring for him while he was bedridden, and visited him frequently once he was able to move about, but their conversations during that time had been carefully casual. Kayl had been half expecting, half hoping that he would seek her out before the expedition left. Finally, the day before the Sisters were to break camp, Glyndon did.
“Walk with me a bit, Kayl?” he said.
Kayl nodded, and together they left the camp. They headed up the mountain in companionable silence. “How’s the arm?” Kayl said after a little.
“Sore,” Glyndon said, and winced. “Risper says I’ll just have to wait; she’s hurried things along as much as she can.”
He hesitated, then went on, “She thinks I’ll regain most of the use of the hand, but she says there won’t be much strength in it and there’s not much she can do about the shoulder. She showed me some exercises for it.”
“I’m sorry,” Kayl said quietly. She could not pretend to be surprised; though Risper had not told her the details, she had seen enough serious wounds to have some idea what to expect.