ZYGRADON (34 page)

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Authors: Michelle L. Levigne

Tags: #Historical Fantasy, #Fantasy

BOOK: ZYGRADON
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* * * *

Kathal and Tathal waited at the end of the tunnel when the two combined
parties emerged at dusk. With a nod and a twist of his head, Kathal beckoned for Ceera
and Mrillis to follow him. He didn't wait for them to respond, but stalked off across the
clearing to the tower of Bo'lantier.

"What's--"Ceera began.

"Trouble," Tathal said. He pressed a finger to his lips for silence and gestured for
them to go ahead of him.

The tower is spelled to keep people from overhearing,
Mrillis thought
to Ceera.

I ought to know that.

When you've been Queen of Snows for a year and a day, then you have to
know everything. You still have time.

She muffled a giggle and hooked her arm through his as they crossed the
clearing together.

Laughter and smiles faded by the time they stepped through the faintly tingling
curtain of magic across the door of the tower and climbed up the winding stairs to the
room at the top. Kathal stood in the open window where he could look out through the
shimmer of lavender sparks to watch the tunnel mouth.

"We were worried," he began. A snort escaped him as he turned to face
them.

"Yes, so Haster told us," Ceera said. "We've done something...amazing. I think
even we who were involved will not quite understand what it is for many years
yet."

"You were invisible, untouchable, unreachable," Tathal said. "Master Breylon
worried because he couldn't contact you. He feared treachery."

"No. Only more...mischief." Mrillis winked at Ceera as he said it. She smiled
crookedly and shook her head.

"Endor isn't with you," Kathal said. He gestured for them to take seats at the
long table that filled the tower room and didn't speak until they had all chosen
stools.

"No. He had errands to run and we told him we could not wait. He knew our
schedule." He glanced at Ceera. She shook her head, having no more idea than he did
what had happened. "Has something happened to him?"

"More like he happened to someone else," Tathal muttered.

"We've heard conflicting stories," his twin said, and bowed his head to study his
intertwined fingers. "He met with those hunting the rebels, then passed along the
messages you had given him for Master Breylon and others...then he seems to have
become two different people."

"That's a clever magic," Mrillis said. "People are telling two different stories
about him? That's always been the way of it, just because of who his father is," he hurried
to say, cutting off both twins. "Does someone claim he did blood magic, but figured out
a way to keep hold of the Threads?"

"That would explain much, yes," Tathal said. "A Noveni village was slaughtered.
Some say Endor got there too late to help, and others say he did the slaughtering. Of
Noveni and the rebels he had been tracking. Or claimed he had been tracking. Some say
he was one of them, and killed his fellows to cover his tracks when he knew he was
about to be caught."

"No," Ceera whispered, jolted out of her stunned silence when Mrillis caught
hold of her cold little hand.

"Details," Mrillis said, shaking his head.

The band of Rey'kil warriors, whom Endor had met with several days before,
arrived only an hour or two after the battle. The bodies were still warm and the blood
still wet. They found Endor weeping over the dead children. His clothes were wet with
blood, both his own and from the rebels who lay scattered and crumpled among their
victims.

Yet only an hour after they raised the alarm and passed along the report of
what had happened, another group hunting the rebels refuted everything Endor said.
They said they had passed through the isolated valley village only a day before and
claimed there were no rebel bands anywhere in the area. They suggested that Endor had
attacked the villagers, using magic to immobilize them.

The second band of hunters came to help with the cleansing and burying. They
reported the conditions that the first band had been too horrified to report. The children
had been hacked to pieces, the young women raped before their throats were slit, the
young men disemboweled, and the elders had been tied hand and foot to the doorways
of their huts, facing the center of the village where the atrocities had taken place. As if
forced to watch before they died.

"There is no proof. No one strong enough to tell if magic was used, and what
kind. Certainly no one sensitive enough to catch echoes to identify who did it," Kathal
said, finishing the tale.

"Only accusations and conflicting stories and arguments which could tear us
apart," Ceera murmured. "Who else knows of this?"

"The elders. The Warhawk and his Council. Master Breylon. He is most
upset."

"Does he believe Endor did it, or is he angry that someone would accuse his
student?" Mrillis had to ask.

"He does not want to believe any of it."

"It does explain why Endor didn't catch up with us when he said he would,"
Ceera said. "Either he was trying to rescue that village by himself--but why wouldn't he
call for help?"

"Endor always tried to do things by himself," Tathal offered. "He was always
trying to prove himself worthy."

"What is worthy about pride that lets others die because he refuses to ask for
help?" Mrillis said. His stomach churned and his head throbbed with dizziness.

He didn't want to believe his friend could have been so foolish--or so cruel.
Could Endor have destroyed that innocent village? He had the perfect opportunity. He
hated the Noveni. He hated being in a position of serving the Noveni. The only reason
he helped to remove all the star-metal from Moerta was to keep all magic out of Noveni
hands--and to earn Ceera's favor.

"Exactly," Ceera whispered, nodding. "Either he sought glory, and others died
for his mistakes and pride. Or he attacked the innocent and helpless. This will take much
thinking, much studying of facts and evidence and... I am too tired." A choked laugh
escaped her and she thumped the table once with her fists. "I could curse him for
destroying the glory of what we have done! I want to sleep for a week, but the...the
euphoria of our newest mischief--" She cast a teasing glance at the twins. "I thought I
could dance until dawn. Until now."

"What have you two done now?" Kathal asked. He looked almost relieved to
have the subject changed.

Trumpets blared, signaling that someone had just emerged from the tunnel
mouth. Mrillis leaped to his feet to look out the window. Even in the long, thickening
shadows, he caught the fiery gleam of Endor's bare head and the steam coming from the
nostrils of his horse. Mrillis watched as the gleaming, sweating horse staggered four steps
away from the tunnel and collapsed. Endor leaped free as the horse went down onto its
side. He yanked his saddlebags free and stalked away without a backward glance, while
servants raced to attend to the horse.

I could almost believe he did it, just from that,
Mrillis thought to
Ceera, and wondered why his heart felt so empty of all emotion.

"Say nothing," Ceera said. She stood and moved around the table so her back
was to the window and she faced the doorway at the head of the stairs. She sat down,
stiff and straight, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and hidden below the level
of the table.

"Queen of Snows," Kathal whispered. He nodded, met his twin's gaze, and the
two stepped over to stand behind her chair as guards. The same stance they took when
Master Breylon faced visitors who needed to be impressed with the High Scholar's
authority.

Endor's boots sent thudding echoes up and down the levels of the tower. Mrillis
stayed seated, head bent as if he studied his hands. He watched the doorway from the
corner of his eye, waiting. The clank and scrape of Endor's scabbard on the stone wall,
where the stairs narrowed near the top, gave a good picture of his progress.

The hollow echo of thudding footsteps on wooden steps changed to the
muffled pounding and clatter of the metal studs in boot heels on the stone floor of the
upper level. Mrillis turned just as Endor lunged through the doorway and caught himself,
both hands braced on the doorframe. He paused for a heartbeat, face filthy, sweaty, red
with effort, scalding fury blazing in his eyes.

"Where were you?" Ceera demanded. She rapped out the words like pebbles
hitting the Lake of Ice. "We delayed as long as we could. You promised you would
return before we needed to head back the way we came. You knew we would head
back to the tunnel. You knew the lump was almost too large to handle when you rode
out. Where were you?"

"I was protecting a Noveni village from a band of rebels." Endor spat on the
floor, held out his arm and tugged his sleeve up to reveal the awkward bandage reaching
from below his elbow to halfway up his biceps. "That's where I was." He slammed a fist
down on the table. "Filthy, arrogant purebloods. They call me a brute and a barbarian,
because of my father? You should have seen what they did to those children!"

"Yes, we have heard the reports." Her silver eyes gleamed cool and regal; with
no hint of the tears and shock she had suffered just a short time ago.

"You did it, didn't you? Made the bowl of stars." Endor slammed his fists into
the end of the table facing her and braced himself on his stiff arms.

Mrillis noted that despite the blood and thick bandage, Endor showed no
weakness or pain. He wondered why he noticed such things, why he doubted his friend.
Hadn't he chafed all his life against the injustice and unwarranted prejudice that Endor
suffered under, because of the ill luck of his parentage? Hadn't Endor been accused of
other crimes before--though none so brutal--with strong evidence, yet had always been
cleared of all accusations?

Jealousy, Mrillis decided, did much to cloud a man's mind and tempt him
toward injustice.

"We could not wait. The star-metal was nearly too strong to handle. It was
growing too hot. We had to work it, or else disperse it and wait until it could be
gathered again."

Ceera stood and faced him, arms hanging at her side, not quite mirroring his
stance. She was fully Queen of Snows in that moment. Mrillis shivered in awe of her, and
pride, and ached deep inside as he sensed a wall falling between them. Some part of little
Ceera, his playmate and dearest friend, vanished in that moment.

"Yes, the Zygradon has been made. All the Threads in the World flow through
it. We are saddened that you were not a part of the actual forming, but you are very
much a part of our effort, even so." She gestured at the door. "Come and see."

He won't be able to see it,
Mrillis thought to her.
How do you
think he'll react to that little discovery?

He might, because he was exposed to the concentrated power of the
star-metal for so long. And I want to see his reaction, specifically,
she responded after a
moment of silence. She led the way down the winding stairs.

Ah. Yes. And if he's enraged, then...
He sighed.
I don't know what
his reaction will tell us. I'm too tired. Is he guilty or innocent? Did we leave him behind
on purpose, or because we got careless, or was it the Estall's will?

You didn't leave a note, as you could have. I didn't ask you to leave a note,
as I should have. We're both guilty. But I'm glad he wasn't a part of the forming,
she
admitted, and slipped her hand into his as they reached the bottom of the stairs and
stepped out into the evening cool.

Just as it had been with Haster, no one could see or touch the Zygradon unless
Ceera or Mrillis or one of the other partners in the making of the bowl touched it and
held the other person's hand at the same time. Many cried out in pain or shock in the
fraction of a heartbeat that they came face-to-face with the bowl. Some claimed to be
blinded by a bright, purifying light. Others heard music that made their ears ring. Others
felt a wind that rushed past them and through them. Still others claimed to have touched
all the green growing things in the World, as if they had become every flower, tree,
bush, weed and vine.

Endor wouldn't tell them what he saw or felt or heard. He stared, as if he had
been blinded, and stood perfectly still. He didn't yank his hand free as everyone else did.
He stared at the Zygradon as if he could see it, but when Mrillis lowered the bowl,
Endor's gaze didn't follow it. Ceera, who had insisted on being the one to 'introduce'
Endor to the bowl, slowly released his hand. She said nothing, only watched him, until
he finally blinked and rubbed his eyes.

Without looking at either of them, Endor gave a tiny shrug, a crooked smile,
then turned and walked away.

Nothing will ever be the same again, will it?
Ceera asked in the sad,
ringing silence.

I wonder, right now, if the three of us were ever as good and close friends
as we always believed,
Mrillis said. He felt his stomach knot again in guilt. He could
have done something to make sure Endor had been included in the forming of the
Zygradon--why hadn't he?

What did he see? What did he hear? Why didn't he make a sound or pull
away like everyone else?

* * * *

"Because Endor is like no one else in the entire world, my children," Breylon
said, when they posed the question to him four days later.

They had dispersed their companions, releasing them to go to their homes and
families for a long and well-deserved rest. With a sense of weary, overwhelming relief,
Mrillis and Ceera rode off alone for Wynystrys. They both wanted to retreat, just for a
little while, back to the comfortable position of being students. After what they had done
with the Zygradon, they feared there would be no one left in the World who would
dare to teach them or command them. They felt very young and yet older than the stars.
They needed to be addressed as children. When Breylon did just that, they smiled at each
other across the wide table in the High Scholar's private chambers.

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