THREE DROPS OF BLOOD (23 page)

What if he's trying to make his own Zygradon?
Meghianna shivered
. I need
to talk with Lord Mrillis
.

I'll tell Kettin and his men what you just thought of, see what they think
.

What
we
thought of,
she retorted, and heard the sound of her sister's
laughter before their connection ended.

"Is that possible?" Ynessa said, when Meghianna told her two companions what she and
her sister had been discussing.

"Some Noveni who never knew they had Rey'kil blood discovered
imbrose
when they were given star-metal gifts from Lady Ceera," Meghianna said. "Timark could be
more right than he knows, to think if he has enough concentrated in one place, it will awaken his
imbrose
. But the problem is that the awakening comes from refined, tamed star-metal.
What fills Tantagar is raw, untamed, poisonous." She shrugged and settled into the secure perch
she had made for herself with two saddles for backrest and some blankets for padding.
Contacting Mrillis while he traveled through the tunnel between the continents would take more
effort and concentration than usual, just to penetrate the star-metal lining the tunnel, let alone the
leagues of water and stone in the sea and the sea bed. The strain on her body had to be offset as
much as possible, to prevent it impinging on her concentration.

She gave instructions to her two companions, what to watch for, how to rouse her from
the communications link if they needed her help or they thought she was in distress. She nearly
laughed aloud when Markas remarked, with some brightening of his mood, that it was a good
thing she had kept him away from the spying mission after all. Meghianna supposed it had to be
some salve to his pride, to be in charge of protecting the Queen of Snows.

Mrillis didn't respond immediately. That worried her enough that she nearly let go of the
Threads she had grasped for communication. Meghianna scolded herself for being a spoiled
child, always expecting him to listen for her call, and for everything to always come easily to
her. Hadn't she prepared herself for difficulties? She knew the physical circumstances would
impede this task, so why did she let it discourage her?

Blessed Estall, am I truly weak, simply because everything I have set my hand to do
has always turned out well? When true trouble and danger comes, will I fail? Make me strong.
Help me to reach success, I pray you.

Taking a deep breath, she settled more firmly into her seat and shoved her mental hands
deeper and with more force into the Threads around her. Meghianna flinched when the Thread in
her left hand, nearly as thick as her arm, changed from pale blue-white to a deep royal blue
tinged with purple. She held on, digging her fingernails in, so that sparks shot up in little
fountains. She had to fight the urge to close her eyes, because her physical eyes were already
closed. What she saw was with the eyes of her mind and spirit. Those sparks were spurts of
energy thrown off by the effort. Had she misjudged what it would take to break through to the
tunnel? Why had her two predecessors had no trouble talking to those traveling the tunnel?

Child, what is wrong?
Mrillis called. His mental voice sounded faint, as if
heard through a thick wall.

I can hardly hear you. Is something wrong with the tunnel?

No. I am merely using all the latent power of the star-metal around us to assist the
soldiers. We are marching through the night, and I use magic to feed the soldiers' bodies and
replenish their strength in lieu of food and rest. What have your people found? It's too soon, isn't
it, to have any results from your spies?

Quickly, Meghianna shared with him what Megassa had reported, the buzzing sensation
she had shared with her, and their theories about Timark's reasons for gathering all the raw
star-metal.

Unfortunately,
Mrillis said after a long silence, while she waited and resisted
the sensation of her hands cramping,
all your theories are possible. And all of them are
dangerous.

What can we do?

You know the principles of working the star-metal, don't you? How we learned to
refine the metal as it fell from the sky?

I read all the journals of everyone involved at that time, and I have touched the
stored memories. Oh, why didn't I think of that?
Meghianna nearly laughed aloud as an
image and a plan filled her mind.

You haven't had time. Be merciful to yourself, child, you're only nineteen. You have
centuries of work and life before we will expect you to be all-knowing.

Meghianna did laugh aloud this time. The sound was harsh, nearly jolting her out of her
communication link with the Threads.

Give me time to think this through, and think how best to handle it yourself. You and
I are going to play tug-war with whoever thinks to control all of Timark's star-metal. We will
refine it and tame it and steal it from under his nose... and provide a most amusing distraction
while the Warhawk's forces physically attack Tantagar
, Mrillis said, his mental voice thick
with ironic amusement.

When Meghianna emerged from the link, she was even more exhausted than she had
expected. It made her head throb with the effort, but she examined the memory of the
conversation and realized that she poured her own strength into the Threads to keep the
communication link open. At the same time, Mrillis drew in all the
imbrose
power he
could gather, to pass on to the soldiers who marched through the night--whatever night there was
to be had in the tunnel, leagues below the sea. No wonder she felt empty and bruised.

She promised Ynessa and Markas a full report on what she and Mrillis had discussed, as
soon as she had something to eat and had washed her face. Meghianna fell asleep with food in
her hand and spilled the wooden cup of watered wine and strengthening herbs Ynessa insisted on
mixing for her. She didn't wake until long after moonrise, when Megassa and Pirkin returned to
their camp.

Her sister laughed at the bare-bones plan Mrillis had outline. "It's brilliant! You'll steal
all that star-metal right from Timark's grasp, and probably destroy half his fortress in the
process." Then she caught her breath and sobered. "Are you up for it, Meggi? I know you've
done some work on refined star-metal, making bracelets and wrist cuffs and such, but that's all
raw metal piled up and buried all around the tower. More star-metal than any of us have seen in
our lives, raw or refined, all put together."

"Maybe this is the great trial I was born for," Meghianna said after a moment of thought.
"It must be done. Such a great pile of raw metal will do more than the usual level of harm,
simply because concentrating it multiplies the effect."

"Will it hurt my mother, being exposed to it so long?" Markas asked. His voice trembled
just a little, enough to reveal how hard he fought to be brave and strong.

"Would you like us to lie and tell you everything will be all right, and your mother
wouldn't feel any different if she had gone to visit a friend in another kingdom?" Pirkin said,
when Meghianna hesitated. "Star-metal is power, whether it is raw or refined. My grandmother
wrote in her journal that we do not make star-metal our servant, no matter how we tame it, but
rather ask it politely to be our friend and ally. It is dangerous. I would rather the Estall would
never allow it to fall on our world ever again, but we must be thankful that there are those born
among us who can handle it and use the power it creates for the good of all."

"You didn't answer my question," the boy grumbled.

"We don't know," Meghianna said. She looked away when Megassa glared at the young
Valor. "We are not sure yet of the conditions around the tower, if Tantagar is shielded or not, and
if Timark even has her in the tower itself. He could have taken your mother through the land and
out the other side, into clean territory. His entire plan could be to lose us in the poisoned
territory, and have his monsters and warriors destroy us if we try to rescue her."

"Besides," Megassa offered, "it took years before the sickness of star-metal affected the
people. If it hurts Queen Glyssani at all, it will be short-lived. And my sister is the premier healer
in the entire World, so there is no reason to worry."

I don't know if I should be grateful for your confidence or not,
Meghianna said
privately to her sister.

Megassa's response was a smirk and a snort of muffled laughter.

By the time the Warhawk's forces emerged from the tunnel, Meghianna had gathered up
images of the foulness surrounding the tower at Tantagar and assembled a map of the pitfalls and
booby-traps from the various memories of the six who had gone to spy. By painstaking, draining
hours exploring the Threads, she marked all the spots where Timark had buried his caches of
unrefined star-metal. It amused her to find he had essentially built a fence with star-metal, with
chunks of the metal buried a man's stride apart in a wide circle all around the polluted valley that
had the tower of Tantagar as its heart. The power that radiated from the unrefined metal formed
the walls of the fence.

In studying the mental maps and reports sent by the team of Valors, Mrillis paused over
the images and impressions that had the faint flavor of Pirkin's mind. He wondered if his
grandson felt anything at all about their impending encounter. During the two years of Pirkin's
training, they had worked their way through discomfort to a cordial, but not altogether
comfortable relationship. Mrillis knew his grandson would never eagerly or easily come to him
for anything, so he had to comfort himself with knowing that the young Valor would not walk
away from him or make any effort to avoid him. They had enjoyed some quiet evenings with
Efrin and his daughters, discussing music and fables and playing games of skill on the tables or
floors, but he doubted he would ever have private, close times with his grandson.

Be grateful for what the Estall has given you,
Mrillis scolded himself, and
focused his mind and discipline back onto the information Meghianna's small troop had sent to
them.

"Thank the Estall," Efrin said, when Mrillis called a halt just inside the next thick patch
of untamed woods, so they could sit in some semblance of privacy with the commanders of the
units, and discuss what he had learned. His crooked grin let Mrillis know he was grateful for the
chance to get out of the saddle, just as much as for the information.

Mrillis needed to rest. As he had admitted to Meghianna, gleaning the energy of
star-metal from the lining of the tunnel under the sea drained him. Now that they had left the tunnel,
he no longer had those reserves to bolster himself. The soldiers were alert and energized, if not
rested. Mrillis planned to doze in the saddle, relying on his companions to keep his horse moving
in the right direction and to protect him if any enemies lay in wait along the way.

He muffled a silent groan at the soreness in his back and thighs, as he climbed back into
the saddle after the all-too-brief strategy session. It had been too many years since he had gone
adventuring and exploring throughout Lygroes, and he had lost his endurance and resilience,
even if he had not lost his vigor. He might look like a man of seventy or eighty, but he was still
strong and alert enough to keep up with men younger than Efrin.

"What's so funny?" the Warhawk asked, when Mrillis snorted, and then laughed outright
at his thoughts.

He dug his heels into his mount's sides and the gelding, barely rested in the scanty two
hours of the stop, leaped forward, then snorted and shook his head, expressing his displeasure.
He was one of Mist's sons, and therefore three times as intelligent as the average muscle-bound
warhorse.

"I just realized that I've stopped thinking of you as 'the boy,' and started using you as the
measuring stick for a man's strength and...well... I suppose, his usefulness."

"Should I be amused or insulted?" the king muttered, studying Mrillis with a few
sideways glances. Then he shook his head and a wry grin lit his dusty, travel-stained face. "It's
nice to know you think of me as a grown man, at last."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Mrillis returned his grin.

Behind them, the unit commanders rode side-by-side, conferring still over the
information Meghianna had sent, and the hastily drawn map. The six spies had discovered that
the tunnel Meghianna and Mrillis had sensed was exactly that, creating a narrow road straight
through the poison of Tantagar. Pirkin had examined and passed along detailed impressions of
the badly woven Threads that held back the warped star-metal energy, the monsters, and the
twisted plantlife that carpeted the ground and filled the air. Mrillis still marveled at what his
grandson had shown him. It was a clever idea, even if badly executed. Whoever had created the
tunnel didn't have the strength or skill to weave something sturdy or permanent. Pirkin and
Megassa had both reported many spots along the length of the safe passage where tangled
Threads and spots of clumsily made spells showed patches, holding together places where Mrillis
assumed monsters had managed to break through. Did that speak badly of the weaver of the
tunnel, or was it a dire warning about the strength and intelligence and magical potential of the
monsters inhabiting Tantagar?

He saved that for later, and listened to the commanders talk while he dozed. Mrillis had
learned long ago that the most useful ideas came from people who didn't have complete
understanding or much experience. Their lack provoked them to ask questions that their elders,
teachers, and leaders had stopped asking years ago. Those who didn't know limitations were
more prone to try what others had given up on.

He had strong experience in that regard himself. If he had been taught about the sky-web
and other properties of Threads earlier, he and Ceera might never have discovered how to purify
star-metal as it fell to the ground, or found a way to fill the Vales with power and use star-metal
to benefit all people with any touch of
imbrose
.