A Flame in Hali (14 page)

Smiling, Dyannis waded back to shore and put her jacket back on. The overskirt was too wet to wear, but at least she would avoid the scandal of a Hali Tower
leronis
running around half-naked in public, even if it was a pleasant spring morning.

Rorie emerged first from the lake, supporting Alderic. Their clothes were damp and their hair hung in limp tendrils like river-weed. Alderic coughed and sputtered as his lungs drew in normal air. Dyannis handed them the dry cloaks they had brought, but it was a while before Alderic stopped shivering.

“The more we learn about what’s going on down there,” Rorie said as they made their way back to the Tower, “the more confusing it all is.”

Dyannis shared his frustration, but felt it better not to say so aloud.

They made their way back to the Tower, hot baths, and dry clothes. Raimon listened gravely as they reported, both telepathically and aloud, what they had seen. He was particularly concerned with the discovery of a new type of bonewater dust.

That night, Raimon spoke directly with Cedestri Tower’s Keeper over the relays. Francisco had firmly rebuffed Raimon’s attempts at opening a discussion. Although Raimon was as composed as ever when he emerged from the relay chamber, Dyannis suspected that the response had not been as polite as he reported.

“What did they expect?” she said to Rorie in exasperation. They sat together in the common room, sipping hot, honey-laced wine as a restorative. “That they could exploit such an energy source right on our doorstep—and for such a purpose—and not be found out? Did they think we’d let it pass? Or are they waiting for Carolin to send an army to shut them down?”

Rorie shook his head. “Try to see things from Cedestri’s point of view. They are not Carolin’s subjects, as you know perfectly well, so they are hardly answerable to him. If the most recent reports are true, they will very shortly be at war.”

Dyannis frowned. Cedestri was a legitimate Tower, but had flatly refused to sign the Compact. In fact, it had welcomed those workers who could not abide the restrictions. It was allied with the small kingdom of Isoldir. The reports to which Rorie referred described escalating hostilities with its neighbor, a branch of Aillard. Ellimara had reacted to the news that her family’s enemies might have some more effective variant of bonewater dust with near-panic and was still unable to concentrate enough to work.

“They must be terrified that the entire clan of Aillard will be ranged against them,” Rorie pressed on. “Given such a threat, would you not do everything possible to strengthen your position?”

“Including making crystalline bonewater?” she fumed. “Rorie, I cannot see
any
legitimate use for such a weapon, one that kills even little babes, and leaves the survivors so ill that death would come as a mercy.”

“You talk as if you would take up the cause of your brother’s Compact. I had not realized you were such a partisan.”

Dyannis caught her breath. Hali Tower had signed the Compact soon after King Carolin and Varzil had formally presented it. The discussion had been brief, with little dissension. Hali was, after all, bound to Hastur.

She had not given the Compact deep thought, but had considered herself bound by the actions of her Keeper. But she was also acutely aware that she had only absorbed the opinions of those around her. She herself had never been tested. She had used her
laran
to heal the devastation brought by sword and
clingfire,
but she herself had never lain bleeding on a battlefield or felt the unquenchable caustic burn through her flesh and bone. Her childhood at Sweetwater had been filled with tales of war, but never the actuality.

Varzil, on the other hand, had known treachery and loss, had seen the people he loved under psychic bombardment, the very stones beneath them crumbling into powder, their minds reeling with madness. His dearest friend, Carolin Hastur, had fled into exile and had battled his way to victory at a terrible cost. During those years, when Hali had been commanded by Carolin’s usurper cousin Rakhal, Dyannis had feared she might be called to war against her childhood friend, perhaps against her own kin.

“I do not know,” she said slowly. A shiver passed over her as she realized that her own trials, whatever they might be, still lay before her.

W
ord reached Hali Tower that King Carolin, deeply concerned about the development of a new
laran
weapon, had asked Varzil Ridenow’s help. Varzil, in turn, sent a message to Raimon that he would leave Neskaya for Hali as soon as possible.

At the news that Varzil was coming, relief akin to euphoria swept through Hali. Silently, Dyannis distrusted their confidence. To them, her brother had almost legendary status—the Keeper who had appeared mantled in the glory of Aldones during Hali’s assault upon Hestral Tower, whose insight and persuasive powers had prevented a catastrophe of the magnitude of the destruction of Tramontana and Neskaya Towers only a generation ago.

Yet there were others who saw him as a weak, prattling peacemaker because he had not the strength to wage war. They suspected his motives and regarded the Compact as a ruse, a folly leading to ruin, a coward’s gambit.

She knew her brother’s temper, knew that it took far more courage to walk unarmed through the lands rent by hatred, as he had done and would do again, than to lead the safe and comfortable existence of an ordinary Keeper, behind the rebuilt walls of Neskaya.

He will come because we need him, because Carolin needs him,
she thought.
He will not consider the risk.

What, she wondered, would she do in his place?

The next few tendays sped by while they awaited Varzil’s arrival. Melting snows and spring rains made travel slow. He had to travel on horseback through the Hellers and down to Acosta, where Carolin would send an aircar. The treacherous wind currents made air navigation impossible in the mountains, even in the mildest seasons.

Meanwhile, Dyannis prepared to take her turn in the Overworld, keeping watch over the structure that Cedestri Tower had established there in order to harvest the energy from the lake floor rift. She had not encountered any human presence in any of her previous shifts, although Cedestri must know that it was being observed. Once or twice, she had caught a faint disturbance in the atmosphere, a swirl of invisible energy or a shadow fleeting at the very edge of her vision.

With a practiced breath, she cast her mind into the Overworld. During the first few moments, she sifted through the usual disorientation to find her bearings. Above her stretched the gray overcast, unchanging and featureless in all directions.

This is getting all too familiar,
she told herself.
I’ve been spending too much time here.
The most difficult part was the continual discipline over her thoughts, for here in the Overworld, an imprudent impulse or moment of irritation could lead to dire consequences.

Once she felt stable, she formed a mental picture of the Cedestri water mill and waited for it to materialize. Usually, it condensed out of the amorphous colorless substance of the Overworld only a short distance away.

This time, nothing happened.

Dyannis turned in a complete circle, scanning the horizon. Perhaps she had formed an imperfect image, or the workers at Cedestri had altered their site beyond recognition. She tried again, searching for the power flow from the lake.

There it was, that twist of
wrongness.
As before, it bled into the Overworld, only this time there was no trace of the mill or any other device to harness its force. Instead, it spread out like a river over muddy flats, losing some of its impetus, but not entirely dissipating. The nerve-scouring tension was merely redistributed.

Although her skin prickled, Dyannis cast about again for any sign of Cedestri’s water mill. She found fragmentary images in the central part of the power bed, where the current still flowed. Only broken outlines, like fractured glass, suggested the vanished structure.

Dyannis frowned. This was no mere erosion with time and disuse. Almost nothing remained of the sculpted thought-stuff of wheel and tower except this faint vibrational residue. Whoever had built it had gone to great pains to dismantle it.

There was nothing more to be gained by lingering here any longer. Dyannis dropped back into her physical body and went to inform her Keeper of what she had found.

By the time Varzil reached Thendara, only the faintest traces of the stream and mill remained, and those were detectable only upon the closest examination. Perhaps, as Alderic suggested, Cedestri Tower feared they had been found out, or their enemies might use the Overworld route as a means of sabotage or sneak attack. Whatever the reason, the news was welcomed by everyone except Raimon, who pointed out that Cedestri already had a stockpile of crystalline bonewater, or possibly other weapons they knew nothing about, and had now been alerted to their discovery.

He said as much to Dyannis as they rode, along with Rorie and a couple of servants, to the King’s castle at Thendara. Although the day was mild, for spring had taken hold in earnest, they rode cloaked and hooded. The road around the lake and past the city of Hali was dry and they made good time, but Dyannis felt the prickle of electrical charge in the air. After the brief respite, it had been increasing daily once more.

It had been some time since Dyannis had been to Thendara and now, with her nerves already scoured raw by the tension between sky and land, she wondered if there had been a coup, a second usurper to Carolin’s throne, the city was so altered.

Unlike Hali, Thendara was a walled city, built for defense. In times past, she had entered through one or another of its gates with only a token greeting from the guards. The passages to the city itself had been open, the flow of travelers and merchants fluid and easy. Now there was actually a knot of people and pack animals waiting at the gate. Instead of the one or two guards in City colors, there were four, and they took their time questioning each person and inspecting each wagon and saddlebag.

Raimon nudged his horse to the front of the line. He and his party were above suspicion; there was no need for them to wait. Even if the guards did not recognize them personally, one glance would show them as
Comyn
.

“Halt there!” one of the guards called out, just as several travelers shouted, “Wait your turn!”

A man in common farmer’s garb rushed forward to grab the reins of Raimon’s mount. The horse, startled, threw his head up and danced sideways. Raimon kept his seat with an effort, for he was not a skilled horseman. The hood of his cloak slid off, revealing his bright red hair.

Laranzu!
The thought shot through the crowd.

Rorie, who was a capable rider, shouted and pushed his horse forward, placing himself between the crowd and his Keeper. The farmer stumbled back, but not before Dyannis caught the twist of emotion. She read surprise, surely to be expected, but also—
hatred?

Why?
she wondered.
What harm have we done to common folk? We have never wished them ill. Perhaps it is the sickness of the times, the weariness of the soul that comes from pain too great to bear.

Before she could react, however, the party surged forward. One of the guards quieted Raimon’s horse, while another made room for them to pass.

Within minutes, they were ushered through the outlying markets along the broader avenues leading to Carolin’s palace. Dyannis saw much that was familiar, but also changes everywhere. The winter had been a cruel one, and she had done her share of tending to the sick at Hali and sometimes Thendara. Some had fallen to the usual winter lung fevers, made worse by cold and hunger, but there had also been several waves of country folk from one area or another affected by war—farmers whose lands had been laid waste by ordinary battles, villagers scarred by
clingfire
burns, children who had strayed too close to lands still under the glowing poison of bonewater dust. Always, her efforts had been received with gratitude, even when she had been too late. She had never encountered such dark stares, such quickly-hidden fists.