HM02 House of Moons (26 page)

It must be Frostvine’s powerful presence that she felt all around her now.
Frostvine!
she cried out to the ilserlara, but there was no slowing of the cold’s advance, no sign that she knew Haemas and the latteh were there.

The dull-green crystal was rapidly fading to gray; she thrust it inside her tunic next to her naked skin, then huddled over it, trying to share what little warmth remained in her body. If ilseri and human were going to continue living together on Desalaya, this First One had to be saved. Beyond that, everything else paled in importance.

Reaching for the ilsera crystals in the Tal’ayn portal, Haemas tried to find the vibrational signature that would let her enter the temporal nexus and save both herself and the dying latteh. But as she concentrated, she heard only silence. The ilsera crystals must have already shattered in the terrible, bone-breaking cold.

Speak to her!
she said to the failing latteh.
She is of your kind. Tell her you are here.

Dimly the latteh responded to her again, its energy pulses quickening for an instant as it phased toward a more conscious state, but it was too weak. The slim green energy pulses slowed and nearly flickered out. Blindly Haemas poured the remaining energy of her mind into the crystal, all that she had, far beyond the safety point, in an effort to preserve this one small life that meant everything.

On and on she went, until it seemed that she was the latteh and it was she, while her body lost all feeling and there was nothing left but searing cold that at last stole even the thought from her head.

* * *

Below Frostvine, the human-things fled for short distances and then fell to the ground, stiff and lifeless under the blight of her path. The habitation before her was vast this time, the largest she had come upon yet, built into the dense gray rock behind it and spanning two tall crags.

Flowing over it, she fed on the heat energy, feeling her fabric expand and grow even more all-encompassing and deadly. A group of humans ran toward a set of ilsera crystals, but this time she anticipated that ploy and directed the devastating cold of her body so that the crystals shattered into useless shards.

Then a tiny voice cried out to her, familiar and yet strange. Pausing, she tried to fix upon it, but in her tenuous condition, she could communicate with no one, not even another of her Last One sisters.

The voice sounded again, so piercing and clear that she paused to gather her being into enough density to hear. Surely it wasn’t one of those disgusting human-things. They had no mindvoices capable of such power and clarity.

The mindvoice came again from the grounds outside the construction of rocks and wood where most of the humans had congregated.
Here!
it cried to her in the simplest of ilserin modes.
Here ... here!

Ilserin? Surprise rippled through her. How had a Second One come to be stranded in this high place? As far as she knew, no ilserin had ever left the great forest below before phasing into an ilseri and riding the wind, and no ilseri could survive long in the chill and thinner atmosphere of these high reaches. Quickly she released some of the heat energy trapped within her far-flung body, knowing that nothing—ilseri, ilserin, or human—could live long in the cold she was generating.

Where?
she sent back to it, even though she was far too dispersed to rescue it herself.
Where are you?

Here!
The mindvoice was weak.
Here!

Following it, she found a place in the snow littered with the twisted shapes of human bodies, all sprawled around a huge pile of cut wood. The ilserin was in the arms of one who had curled itself about it as if to protect it.

Here!
the ilserin said again.

The creature who cradled it was almost dead itself, the last sparks of its primitive mind ebbing even as she watched. With a pang, Frostvine realized that the ilserin voice was an unphased First One, the lost child stolen from the pool and never returned. But First Ones did not achieve consciousness until after they Changed and emerged from the pool as slim bodied, playful ilserin. How, then, had this one spoken to her?

Gently probing the newborn mind, she saw how this human-thing had called to it, prodded it into consciousness and urged it to speak so that it might save itself—how the human had poured the last energy of its own body into the small one so that it might live.

Wavering there, she perceived a last flicker in that dying human mind.
Here!
insisted the ilserin in its limited vocabulary.
Here! Here!

Then she knew what it asked. Hovering over the human, she wondered at the fact that a race so selfish and aggressive and wasteful could still spawn individuals who were capable of such sacrifice.

Here!
the ilserin cried into her mind, full of urgent sorrow.

Concentrating the stolen energy, Frostvine directed a measure into the human creature’s mind, and was rewarded with the faintest of glimmers. Perhaps it was not too late. She fed it another small dose, then another out of the almost immeasurable amount stored within her vast body, trying not to overload the fragile creature.

Slowly the human began to revive, stirring in the snow, its odd, six-fingered hands clasping the latteh close to its nearly frozen breast.

Live,
Frostvine told it.
Live and instruct the others of your kind. Because of the First One, I have spared you, but we shall never do so again. If another latteh is taken, we shall finish what was begun.

The human tried to stand up, but its legs gave way and it collapsed back into the snow, still holding the First One close. A wave of sorrow emanated from it and Frostvine was perplexed. She watched it crawl across the snow-covered ground to touch another of the fallen humans, much smaller than itself, then gather the stiff body into its arms.

Here!
the ilserin cried again, as urgent as before.
Here! Here!

The feeling was composed of mingled sorrow and guilt, but Frostvine was too widely dispersed for closer communication, and her body was too full of heat-energy to even attempt a more cohesive form.

Reaching inside its outer clothing, the human touched the First One. The nascent ilserin changed its wording.
Child!
it shouted into Frostvine’s mind.
Child! Child! Child!

For a moment, Frostvine was puzzled. Of course the ilserin was a child. That was obvious. Then she observed how the human held the smaller one in its arms, how it smoothed the tumbled hair away from the small face—

Child!
the ilserin insisted.

Then she understood. The smaller human was also a child, a new human, no more guilty of the theft than the First One itself. Peering into the smaller one’s mind, she saw the dimmest of mindflickers. It, too, was almost past any help, but she released a minute quantity of energy into its being, fearing that too much would be as bad as none. Then she watched to see if the human child responded.

Child! Child!
the ilserin cried.

Yes, small one,
Frostvine soothed. She administered another infusion of energy even though there had been no response yet and she thought that it would do no good. The larger human touched the child’s forehead, and Frostvine felt it attempt to pour its own strength into the dying child, even though it had none to spare at this point.

Shamed, Frostvine made a link between herself and the human child, pouring energy into the other’s mind as if it were water. At first the older human resisted her, then seemed to understand and only watched silently as Frostvine gave and gave. She would make it live, she decided. As the First One had been saved, this human child would also survive.

And after she would have sworn that no human could have taken so much raw unfiltered power, the child stirred and opened eyes that glimmered a deep, pure emerald green.

THE HUGE TAL’AYN
ballroom was crowded with those fortunate enough to have been inside when the killing wave of cold hit. The injured, chierra servants and Lords alike, huddled together on the floor, shrouded in blankets and cloaks, their eyes dazed, still shivering though every fire in the huge house had been stoked to roaring. Those most badly hurt lay on pallets on the highly polished hardwood floor. A resourceful servant had retrieved an old set of portal crystals packed away in one of the basement storerooms, and now a dozen healers, summoned from the untouched Highlands Houses as well as Shael’donn, moved among the wounded, treating the wide variety of injuries where possible, and easing pain where nothing else could be done.

And none of them, Haemas thought as she surveyed the devastation, would ever truly understand what had just happened, because she would never be allowed to explain. She curled her arm around Kisa’s trembling shoulders as she watched Healer Nevarr kneel on the floor to examine Kevisson’s broken arm. The healer ran his hands over the purpling flesh, then glanced up at her, his freckles standing out sharply in his weary face. “It’s not too bad. The bones didn’t come through the skin, but I can’t spare the energy to start it healing right now. Too many others are in need. I’ll splint it, then finish the real work later.”

She nodded. “I’m going to Shael’donn to check on Enissa.”

“Enissa?” Kevisson, his face white with fatigue and pain, looked up at her in shock. “But—they said she was
dead
!” Ignoring Nevarr’s protests, he tried to get up, then sagged, his face pinched, biting his lip to keep from crying out.

The healer eased him back to the pallet. “She’s not dead yet, but very near it, I’m afraid.” He placed a hand across Kevisson’s forehead and concentrated to block his pain.

Kevisson’s eyes fluttered. “But Senn came down yesterday morning to that room where they had me locked up,” he murmured. “He said Enissa had died during the night.”

Nevarr shook his head, then began to splint Kevisson’s arm. “She’s still over at Shael’donn in a shielded room, but in a very bad way. Senn moved her there, saying as long as you thought she was dead, she would be safe.”

Kevisson covered his eyes with his good arm. “I have to see her.”

“No.” Haemas touched his clammy face and felt his spinning exhaustion. He was running mostly on raw nerve. “You rest for a few minutes. I’ll be back as soon as I can, but I have to go, even if it’s only to say good journey.”

Kevisson turned his head to the wall. “She wouldn’t want me there anyway.” His tone was bitter. “She’ll die thinking I tried to kill her.”

Haemas laid her hand along his cheek and turned his face to meet her eyes.
I’ll make her understand,
she said into his mind. Then she looked down at Kisa and stroked the child’s copper-gold hair. “I’ll only be gone a little while. Why don’t you stay here with Kevisson?”

Kisa huddled closer, clinging to Haemas’s tunic with both hands and blinking up at her with those alien green eyes that no longer held the slightest trace of Kashi gold. How much had Frostvine changed this child in the process of saving her life? Kisa had yet to speak or make any sign that she understood what was going on around her.

Do you understand?
Haemas said into her mind.
Stay with Kevisson. Everything will be all right.

In answer, Kisa only buried her face in Haemas’s tunic, holding on as if she would never let go.

Nevarr sighed and touched Kisa’s cheek, narrowing his eyes appraisingly.
Why don’t you take her with you? She’s in shock and it might do her good to get away from the sight of all this.

Haemas looked into the child’s ilseri-green eyes.
All right.

* * *

Gripping Kisa’s small hand, Haemas stepped into the Tal’ayn portal. Before she could go to Enissa, she had one more secret task: The First One had to be returned to the pool. The outside air was still far too cold, even for the depths of a Highlands winter. Her teeth chattered as she sorted out the portal vibrations, then reached for the signature of the ilsera crystals set into the ilseri pool. Grayness flashed, bitter, but not half so debilitating as Frostvine’s deadly presence.

The forest glittered with frost and, although she couldn’t see them, she sensed the murmuring presence of many ilseri, more than she had ever encountered before. Kisa blinked at the seemingly empty trees, but said nothing, her small hand clenching Haemas’s. Ice crystals pinged as tree branches swayed in the breeze.

Moonspeaker, you have done well,
Windsign said.

A fresh pang of loss stabbed through Haemas as she drew the latteh from her bodice. Her eyes stung as she held it out. She had not done well. A string of senseless deaths lay behind her, Master Ellirt’s and her father’s and half the members of the High Houses—and she still had one more painful leave-taking to endure.

Summerstone’s green outline appeared, rapidly solidifying. The flowing white fabric settled around her over-tall, regal body as she accepted the latteh and bowed her tendriled head over it.
This one has been awakened early and promises to grow strong. It will make interesting times, watching him grow.

Perhaps, Haemas told herself. It would be a blessing if something good came of so much tragedy. She glanced down at Kisa’s disturbing emerald eyes, then wrapped her arms around the unresisting child.

We have examined the nexus.
Summerstone waded into the frigid pool and sank beneath the silvery surface to replace the First One.
The possibilities abound, and many time lines show great potential for our two kinds at this juncture. Go in the knowledge that you have made this possible.

Haemas nodded tightly, then reached for the vibrational signature of Shael’donn’s portal, both longing and dreading to see Enissa again, knowing she had failed her as she had failed so many others.

She and Kisa emerged in the small portal set halfway between the two schools. Snow was falling in fitful bursts from low-hanging gray clouds as she urged the child down the gravel path toward the huge brown-stone building. It was cold there, but not nearly as bad as Tal’ayn. She held Kisa’s hand tightly as they reached the broad steps, thinking back to the first time she had come here, little more than a girl herself, walking at Master Ellirt’s side.

The door swung back before she could touch it, but she ignored the startled snub-nosed boy’s request for her to wait. She had done with waiting and trying to live by other people’s rules. From now on, she would do what
she
thought best.

Having gotten the room’s location earlier from Nevarr, she headed for the East Wing, passing chattering clumps of students. She wondered how much any of them had heard of the tragedy that had struck the Highlands. Her father’s funeral had been heavily attended and many of these boys must have lost relatives in Frostvine’s devastating attack. None of the High Houses had escaped loss.

A chunky adolescent boy sat in a chair outside of Enissa’s room with his feet braced against the wall. “Can I help you, Lady?”

Haemas lifted the door’s latch, but it was locked. She met his young eyes. “You can give me the key.”

He sniffled, then wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. “I’m sorry, but—”

But she had no time for this. Even now, Enissa might have slipped beyond her.
Unlock the door
, she said, backing her mental voice with all the power of her Plus-Eleven Talent.

His mouth sagged open. Then he pulled the key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and stood aside. Holding Kisa’s hand, Haemas pushed past him into the stuffy, dim room beyond. A half-seen figure rose beside the bed. “Lady Haemas!”

It was Meryet Alimn, one of Enissa’s best trainees. “Meryet, how—” Her throat closed. “How is she?”

Meryet’s chin trembled. “Very poorly, Lady. The healers say there’s nothing left to be done.” A tear trickled down her face, gleaming in the candlelight.

Haemas squeezed her shoulder. The figure under the quilts seemed too small to be her old friend, as if her body were fading along with her spirit. Haemas slid into the chair and reached for the pale cheek. “Enissa?”

“She’s—she’s gone beyond hearing, Lady.” Meryet’s voice was strained.

Even though she’d thought she would be prepared, Haemas was shocked at the coldness of Enissa’s skin.
Enissa?
she said into her mind.
Don’t leave me.

But there was only a soft, slow fading, as if her friend were dying one cell at a time
. No, you can’t go!
Haemas groped under the quilts for her hand.
Not like this! You can’t let Chee win!
With reckless abandon, she cast her shields aside and plunged into the blankness, seeking some semblance of the Enissa she knew, some hint of the crotchety friend who would risk anything for anyone but couldn’t abide being laughed at.
Enissa!

After a moment she caught a trace, something, but it was receding from her faster than she could follow. Pausing, Haemas tried to think. The damage—she needed to go back to the mindburned area again. Perhaps she could heal a pathway as she had done before and buy Enissa a little more time.

Guided by memory, she groped through the frustrating blankness, finally finding it again: the thousands of disrupted neural pathways that dumped every half-formed thought in the same place, creating a blaring chaos that no mind could survive. But there was little chaos or anything else left, almost no thought processes at all. Enissa was nearly gone.

Haemas hesitated, no longer sure she even had the right to try to pull her back. There was a sense of peace in the vast silences of Enissa’s mind, a coming to rest that she was almost loath to disturb. After all, what could she bring her back to, except a few more minutes of dying?

Letting go, she drifted back until she could feel her own body, then opened her eyes and laid her head on Enissa’s barely moving breast, feeling the life ebb from her friend even as she clung to her. A latteh could have supplied the power that she lacked. If only she could have brought one back just long enough to heal Enissa as Ellirt had shown her ... but lattehs were not unknowing things, to be used as mere tools. Even to ask such a favor of the ilseri would bring Frostvine back to the Highlands—and that would be the end of the Kashi.

A small hand touched Haemas’s shoulder and she blinked through her tears to see Kisa’s solemn face watching her. A strange, tingling energy surged from her shoulder through her entire body, powerful, energizing, potent. She looked down and saw her hands gripped together on the bed, outlined in shimmering emerald.

For a moment, Haemas forgot to breathe. Then, behind her, she heard Meryet gasp. “Lady, what is it?”

She raised one hand and touched her own cheek where Brann Chee had struck her in the struggle at the edge of the cliff, feeling the contradictory warmth of that cool greenness, its soothing power, and then knew it for what it was. “It’s all right, Meryet,” she heard herself say.

Closing her eyes, she loosed herself from her body again, riding the current of green ilseri energy flowing from Kisa, seeking the terrible wound in Enissa’s brain. Coming back to the vast damage, she almost despaired all over again, but then put away her fear. She was not a healer, but she didn’t have to be. Through Kisa, she had the awesome power of the ilseri behind her, and, by the Light, she could at least try! She began with the nearest damaged neural pathway, pouring the potent ilseri energy through it until it was smooth and conductive again. Then she went to the next and did the same, and the next, and the next ...

From time to time, it seemed that people came and tried to talk to her, but she shut the insistent voices out of her mind and held her concentration. The damage was so great that if she stopped even for a second it might be too long. If Enissa was to have any chance at all, she had to finish what she had begun without delay. And through it all, she felt Kisa’s steady, uncomplaining presence beside her, channeling the apparently limitless cool green fire that made it all possible.

Eventually, although she had no idea how long it had been, she could find nothing else to work on. But she drifted in Enissa’s mind, searching. She had to be sure; she could not stop until she was sure. It could not all have been for nothing.

Haemas,
a voice said insistently,
it’s finished. Come back.

Finished? Was Enissa dead? Weariness dragged at her until she could hardly think. She wanted to go back, to rest, but what if she’d missed a pathway somewhere? She’d failed her father and all those people at Tal’ayn, she’d even failed Axia, and now Enissa had only this one last chance. She had to be sure. She lingered on in Enissa’s mind, alone, looking for something she might have missed.

Then she felt a steadying hand on her face, breaking her concentration, startling her after she had left her body behind for so long. She tried to shut the sensation out and stay with Enissa.

No,
he said,
there’s nothing more to be done.