The Tenth Power (15 page)

Trout whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It wasn’t your fault. He used chantment, there was nothing you could have done. We will survive without it.’ Darrow sought Calwyn’s eyes. ‘I should not have spoken as I did,’ he said quietly. ‘Forgive me.’

Wordlessly, Calwyn nodded, and Darrow let out a long breath. Then he looked around at the cave, golden with firelight and fragrant with the smell of Tonno’s hot, savoury soup, and he smiled wearily. ‘No need for the Clarion here. Just like home.’

Tonno glanced up. ‘You’re in time for dinner. Bring those bowls, Calwyn lass, and we’ll eat.’

‘Here, Trout,’ said Darrow, and handed him the battered lenses in their wire frame.Trout’s face lit up. ‘They were a little scratched, but I’ve repaired them.’

Tonno ladled out the soup, and they talked as they ate, pondering the loss of the Clarion and the disappearance of Keela.

Calwyn’s thoughts had taken another track. Where was Darrow thinking of, when he spoke of
home
?Was it the Black Palace in Merithuros, where he had spent so much of his childhood, and where, now, he was lord? Surely it was not the island of Ravamey, where he had lived a bare half-year, just one winter, with her and the others. Perhaps it was the cosy cabin of
Fledgewing
, where he had first known true friendship.

She felt Halasaa’s questioning gaze on her.
I was wondering,
where is home to Darrow?

That is easily answered.
Halasaa serenely spooned up his soup.
Wherever you are, Calwyn, that is his home.

You think so?
Calwyn glanced at Darrow, but his head was bent low over his bowl and he did not look up.

seven
The Time of One Egg

AS SOON AS
Keela entered Samis’s camp she saw that it was much more luxurious than that of the other travellers. His arched tent was made from panels of doubled canvas, his sleeping furs were thick and soft, and he carried fire in a brass pot. Keela lifted a corner of the tarpaulin and peered at the pile of large, strangely shaped silver containers hidden beneath it.

A low, powerful voice sounded behind her. ‘Touch nothing.’ Keela jumped, and let the tarpaulin fall. ‘Darling, you
never
let me play with your toys! I’m not a
child
any more, you know. And I’ve been
so
good. Haven’t I? Don’t you think I deserve a little treat?’ She twirled a tendril of golden hair around her finger and gazed at him. Her eyes sparkled blue and her cheeks were flushed. ‘Let me peek in your boxes, just one peek!’

Samis was unmoved.The flames from the campfire flickered over his face: the domed forehead with its thick, springing grey hair; the hooded eyes, intelligent and contemptuous; the beaked nose; the long, ruthless mouth. He wore an iron-grey cloak, the colour of tarnished silver, that hid secret glimmers within its folds. ‘There is nothing in those boxes to interest you.’

Keela tossed her head. ‘You
are
unfair! I’ve done
everything
you asked. I’ve brought you the wretched horn, the Clarion of the Lame or whatever they call it, I sent Darrow to the Lazar-House, I’ve
lured
them all this way,
and
I made sure they fetched that bore of a girl.’ Keela pouted, the delicious pout that her admirers in the Palace of Cobwebs had fought duels to receive. But her eyes were sharp. ‘I can’t think why you’re bothering with that plain, grumpy little thing. Singer of all Songs, indeed! I told you in Gellan, there’s no more magic in her now than there is in me – and darling, you must admit, I’m so much prettier – ’

Like a snake striking, Samis’s hand shot out and jerked her head back. Keela cried out.

Samis’s mouth curled. ‘You agreed, in Gellan, not to question me. Did you not? That plain, grumpy little priestess will be the Singer of all Songs.’ He tightened his grip. ‘Say it.’

‘She – will – be – ’ Keela choked out, ‘what you say –

’ Samis released her. For a few moments there was no sound but Keela’s stifled sobs and the crackling of the fire.Then Samis said, in a bored voice, ‘You will have your reward, in time, just as I promised.’ He turned over the little Clarion; his fingertips caressed the swirling designs etched onto its golden surface.

Keela wiped her eyes. ‘I’ve been waiting so
long
.’

‘How you’ve suffered!’ drawled Samis mockingly.

‘Don’t be angry with me, darling.’

‘I’m not angry,
darling
. Now, listen. This is what you will do next.’

AFTER THE SOUP,
Calwyn slept. The next she knew, she was lying on her side, tucked under a sleeping-fur, and looking out through the mouth of the cave to a sky sprinkled with stars.

Someone touched her hand and she sat up. Halasaa laid a finger to his lips and gestured around the cave with laughter in his eyes. The others were all asleep, worn out by the events of the day and lulled by the warmth and shelter of the cave. Tonno snored, his big boots poking from under a pile of skins. Trout was buried under sleeping-furs. Darrow slept sitting upright, as he often did, frowning with thoughts that never let him rest entirely. Calwyn felt a sudden impulse to reach out and smooth that frown away.

But Halasaa was beckoning.
Let us walk, you and I.

Calwyn drew her cloak around her shoulders and followed his silhouette out of the cave.Their feet crunched in the snow, and their shadows stretched, stark and blue, in the light of the single rising moon.
The time of the Lonely Maiden
. Calwyn used mind-speech, not wanting to break the silence of this still night.
My people call it the time of One Egg,
offered Halasaa.
There are no
lonely maidens among the Tree People.

But you were lonely among them, Halasaa. A lonely boy.

Yes. After my father died.
He gestured ahead.
I will show you where
we lived, my father and I, in the winters.

The cave was smaller than the one they’d left, and some distance from the others.
Were you apart from your people even then?
Yes.You know that most of theTree People have come to mistrust those with
the gift of Becoming, like my father and me.
Halasaa shot her a sideways look.
Just as the Voiced Ones mistrust those with the gift of sung chantment.

Calwyn sighed.
How sad that the two peoples of Tremaris should have
that in common, and nothing else.

Halasaa put out his hand to help her climb the rocky path to the cave.
The peoples of Tremaris have much in common. Each of us is
born. Each of us will die. In that likeness is all the bond we need.

Calwyn laughed.
But we have that in common with – with goats,
and fish, and with trees and grass!

And so we do
, replied Halasaa seriously.

Calwyn shook her head as they approached the cave-mouth.
The peoples of Tremaris have stronger bonds with each other than
we do with the other creatures of the world. Like the Power of Tongue.

My people do not share that gift. We speak with our minds, not our
tongues.

Halasaa, it’s the same!

No. It is a different gift.

He was adamant. Calwyn smiled as she stepped into the cave that her friend and his father had shared in the winters of Halasaa’s childhood. Moonlight streamed through the entrance, lighting the cave with silver. Halasaa found a flint and tinder, and lit a tiny nut-oil lamp. He ran his hand along the walls.
In this alcove we kept our food. Here, my father slept. And here
was my own bed.

Touched, Calwyn laid her hand on the low, child-sized niche, still lined with dried grasses.
There are other sleeping-shelves
here. Did you share this cave?

With my mother and my twin sister.

‘I never knew you had a twin sister!’ Calwyn was so surprised she cried it aloud. ‘Or a mother!’ She stopped. Of course, Halasaa must have had a mother. But he had never spoken of her.

As he so often did, Halasaa answered her question before she had a chance to ask it.
I do not remember them. I was only one
year old when they died.

One year old
, repeated Calwyn.
I was one year old when my mother
died.
There was a tingling in her hands that she hadn’t felt since she’d lost her powers of chantment.

Halasaa groped on a deep shelf, hidden in the shadows.
We
kept some things here, in memory of my mother. A hair comb, a dish she
made. Small things.
He drew out a bundle of cloth and spread it out on the floor of the cave.

Calwyn sank to her knees and fingered the pretty wooden dish and the delicately carved comb. Then she set them aside, and picked up a slender bone hair pin. Her face went pale; slowly, she reached back to her own hair, plucked out one of the pins, and held the two to the light.
Halasaa –

What is it?

His face swam before her in the lamplight. Half-laughing, half-weeping, Calwyn lifted up the cloth that had wrapped the things.
These pins, and this – this is yellow linen. Where did this come
from?

It was my mother’s
, answered Halasaa.
I do not know how she came
by it.

Tears were spilling down Calwyn’s face.
Halasaa, don’t you
recognise this? It’s the tunic of a priestess of Antaris! Your mother came from
Antaris!

Like you?
Halasaa’s face was blank, and then suddenly it was transfigured with the light of understanding.

Your mother and sister did not die.
Calwyn clasped his hands.
They returned to Antaris
. She turned their hands so that both their wrists faced upward. There were the ice-brands that marked her as a Daughter of Taris, the three moons, one in crescent, one half and one full.The same marks were tattooed on Halasaa’s wrist, almost hidden among the spiralling patterns that snaked up his arm and across his chest.
My father
chose those signs for me.
Halasaa’s words were very quiet.
They are
not known among the Tree People.

‘He chose them in memory of your mother,’ whispered Calwyn. ‘
Our
mother…’

My sister.

My brother.

Calwyn and Halasaa stared at each other as though for the first time.

Calwyn asked.
What was your father’s name?

Halwi. And your mother?

Calida.

The single moon travelled across the sky, their shadows crept across the wall of the cave, and still they sat, searching each other’s eyes, as if the answer to every question could be found there. At last, without speaking, they stood, took each other’s hands, and circled the cave in a silent, joyful dance.

‘AND YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY
sure?’ asked Trout. He and Calwyn were sitting on skins by the fire.

Calwyn didn’t mind repeating the story; she had already told it to Darrow and Tonno. ‘My mother, Calida, ran away from Antaris, just after she’d been made a full priestess. Years later she came back, with a baby.’

‘You.’

‘Yes. But she’d caught a winter fever on the journey, and she died that same night. She never said where she’d been, or who my father was.’

‘And you think he was Halasaa’s father?’

‘The robes that Halwi kept, and the hair pins, were made in Antaris. They
must
have belonged to Calida. It’s another reason why the Tree People shunned Halasaa, because his mother was a Voiced One. It shouldn’t be a reason, but – ’ Calwyn’s voice hardened. ‘My people are wary of me, too, because my father was an Outlander.’

‘But why did she leave?Why did she take you back?’

‘Halasaa and I were about a year old. Calida and Halwi must have realised by then that I was born withVoice, but not Halasaa. We think perhaps I could always speak with my mind, too, but I’d forgotten, until I knew Halasaa. Calida and Halwi must have wanted me to be raised with other chanters. I couldn’t have learned all the songs among the Tree People.’ Calwyn smiled slightly. ‘Lia told me that Calida was gifted in many ways, but not in chantment. So she took me to Antaris. But the journey cost her her life.’

‘Wait till Mica finds out!’ crowed Trout. ‘Calwyn, if your mother hadn’t died, do you think she would have come back to theWildlands?’

Calwyn dropped her eyes. ‘I don’t know. It must have been a terrible decision to make. She had to abandon me, or Halasaa and Halwi.’
All so I could learn the chantments
, she thought wretchedly.
And now my gift is gone, and it was for nothing. If she and
I had stayed in the Wildlands, then I would never have been parted from
Halasaa, and our mother and father would still be alive, all of us together.

The picture of what might have been was a dull ache in her heart. And yet, she could not be sorry that she’d grown up in Antaris, with the rituals of the sisters and their reverence for chantment. If she hadn’t lived there, she might never have met Darrow and her other friends, never experienced her journeys and adventures, never tasted all the different kinds of magic she’d learned.