But it was gone. Her scabbard now carried only an ordinary sword. “They must fight beside me,” she groaned, “or everything is lost!”
“It is not,” said a soft voice.
Kadiya opened wide her eyes, and uttered a cry of anger as she beheld Haramis, just materializing on the uncovered porch of the guest hut.
“You again!” Kadiya exclaimed. Her sister stood regarding her somberly, her white cloak of office remaining quite dry in spite of the deluge. “I will not let you interfere! You have no right to hinder the free choice of my Folk!”
“I am not here to interfere, nor have I yet spoken to your Folk. I simply wish to have a brief conversation with you. May I come in?”
Kadiya regarded Haramis with seething hostility and made no answer. The Archimage entered and approached the stingy little fire at the hut’s center, which burned within a ceramic tray full of sand. Smoke rose sluggishly in the dank air and collected under the rafters, some of it seeping out through the crevices in the sooty thatch and the rest swirling about the interior, helping to drive off the bloodsucking insects of the Thorny Hell at the same time that it made humans wretchedly uncomfortable.
The evening was already becoming chilly, but Kadiya was sweating in her ceremonial corselet of hard golden fish-scales. Her amulet hung from a cord at her neck and her auburn braids were bound tightly to her head. She sat down stiffly on one of several wicker stools beside the firepan. When Haramis calmly joined her, Kadiya began to make a great business of pulling dry fern stalks from a nearby basket. She broke them up for fuel and fed them into the small blaze, which she blew upon to keep it from smoldering too badly.
Haramis waited.
Kadiya stayed stubbornly mute for some time, then finally asked: “Did the Teacher send you again? Or was it Anigel this time?”
“The Teacher only told me what you intended to do. I have not bespoken Ani of your terrible plan, but I have warned her that Orogastus and the pirates are sailing down upon Derorguila.”
“I knew it would happen. I am sorry for Ani and Antar, but the Folk and I will do what must be done. With two talismans in the hands of Orogastus, humanity is doomed to fall under his power, no matter how hard you may try to prevent it. But the Folk are of no interest to him. If they and I live here peacefully in the Misty Mire, Orogastus will let us be—no matter what horrors he wreaks upon the human nations.”
“How do you know this?” Haramis asked dubiously.
“Orogastus appeared to me in a Sending and told me so.”
“And you believed him? Have you lost your mind?”
The trace of a grim smile touched Kadiya’s lips as she fed the reviving fire. Flames painted her features with a crimson sheen and the red Flower shone on her breast. “Our old enemy is as handsome and debonair as ever! He, too, can now bespeak anyone in the world through his talismans. But no doubt you two have already had many a cozy chat, disposing of the fate of the world between you.”
“No, I have not spoken to him at all,” Haramis replied stiffly. “Nor will I, until I am ready to requite him as he deserves. I have commanded my talisman to shield me from both his oversight and his importuning voice.”
“You still love him. Deny it if you can!”
“I do not deny it. But I will do my utmost not to let my emotions sway my actions.”
“I will believe that when you seek justice for the Folk with the same zeal that you apply to human affairs!”
“My duty is to be a guardian and guide to all persons living on the land, be they Skritek, human, or Folk. This is why I have come to warn you not to make this terrible mistake—”
Kadiya lifted a defiant chin. “It is I, not you, whom the Folk deem their leader! While you remained aloof in your Tower, I have lived and worked with them for twelve years, and sought justice for them in their dealings with our own race. You say that you love them—but what have you done to prove it?”
Haramis remained calm. “The Folk were brought into being by the Archimagical College. Long before there ever was a Lady of the Eyes, there was an Archimage of the Land watching over the aborigines who dwelt there. It is unfortunately true that up until now, I have not been as effective as I might have been.” She touched the Three-Winged Circle, and its trillium-amber displayed a sudden surge of golden light. “But things will be different now.”
“You intend to supplant me—is that it?” Kadiya exclaimed.
“No. Only to persuade you.”
“Then do your damnedest!” Kadiya leapt to her feet. “Show me how you will smite me if I defy you!”
Haramis only shook her head, pityingly.
“Surely you would not let an emotion such as sisterly affection deflect you from your duty!” Kadiya’s face wore a mocking grin. “Or is it something else that compels you to a more gentle way of dealing?… Tell me, almighty Archimage: Are you truly here this time, or am I once again confronted with a mere ghost?”
“I am here truly. I can travel anywhere now with the help of my talisman, and I can take you with me—”
Kadiya’s sword was suddenly in her hand. “Touch me at your peril, Hara. If you attempt to carry me off by force, by all the Lords of the Air and the Three Moons, I will slay you.”
“Kadi, Kadi!” Haramis remained seated, keeping her hands folded in her lap, and inclined her head so that her sister would not see the grief that made her eyes glisten. “I would never harm you, never coerce you. Oh, my dear Sister! Why can’t you understand? We triplets are Three and we are One! Only if the Petals of the Living Trillium work together can Orogastus and his evil schemes be vanquished. The Teacher tried to tell you this. I have just seen and spoken to her, and she has given me valuable advice that may lead to a solution of all our troubles … Put up your weapon and listen to me.”
“Leave this place! Only thus will you convince me that your real purpose in coming here is not to traduce me to my Folk. I will not permit you to sway their decision—”
“Kadi, it is too late.” The Archimage lifted her head and pointed to the open doorway. “Look.”
Kadiya strode out onto the open porch, ignoring the pelting raindrops. A constellation of small blurred lights was approaching through the mist: four canoes with torch-bearers.
“They are coming.” Kadiya threw a bitter glance at her sister, back inside the hut. “Will you stay and harangue them? Or bedazzle them with witchcraft if they refuse to obey you?”
“I will do nothing of the kind … but you can be sure that I will be watching and listening.”
With that, the Archimage vanished.
Still trembling with fury, the Lady of the Eyes sheathed her sword and went down the ladder to the floating landing platform. She took the lines handed to her and made the boats fast. Speaker Nessak and her council of village elders occupied the first three craft; the last one carried Jagun, Lummomu, and several other senior Wyvilo.
Kadiya waited until all of them had ascended, then she followed them into the guest hut.
None of the Uisgu was taller than a human child eight years of age. They somewhat resembled Jagun the Nyssomu, but were shorter and more fragile in appearance, with wider, more upstanding ears, larger golden eyes, and sharper teeth in their broad mouths. Their facial and body fur was oily and their palms slick with protective slime. All except Nessak wore simple grass kilts and had variously colored rings of paint around their eyes. The Speaker was more richly attired in a skirt of blue trade-cloth, a little bejeweled golden collar, two thin gold bracelets, and triple white rings of eye-paint.
Nessak lifted both her taloned hands in salute to Kadiya, speaking in the Uisgu dialect.
“Lady of the Eyes, this one has spent many hours bespeaking our kindred of the Mire. Honebb, here, has bespoken the Discerner Frolotu of the Nyssomu. Kramassak has bespoken Sasstu-Cha of the Wyvilo, and Gurebb has done the best he could with the Glismak. To all of these Folk we sent your Call. Now let us hear the replies … Gurebb!”
A venerable little Uisgu male
came to Kadiya and saluted her. “This one had a hard time making sense of the forest-creepers’ rantings. But it seems, Lady, that they are very willing to join you in war against the humans.”
Kadiya’s eyes shone and she stood taller. “Thank you, Gurebb.”
“Kramassak!” intoned the Speaker.
A Uisgu woman spoke up clearly. “The Elder Sasstu-Cha, polling his people in the absence of the Designated Speaker Lummomu-Ko, states that the Wyvilo will follow the Lady of the Eyes in battle … provided that any other race of Folk besides the Glismak does likewise.”
Kadiya beamed at Lummomu and his warriors. But the Wyvilo chief did not return her smile, but only stared impassively into the fire.
“Honebb—it is your turn,” Nessak said. “What of the Nyssomu?”
“The Discerner Frolotu,” stated another male, “having consulted with others of her kind, makes it known that the Nyssomu Folk will remain at peace with humanity.”
Kadiya’s features froze into granite. She turned to Nessak. “And what of the Uisgu, my old friend? What of the Folk who were the first to stand by me in the conquest of the wicked invaders of Labornok? You who first hailed me as Lady of the Eyes, as Light Bearer and Hope Carrier?”
“This one must tell you the truth.” Nessak spoke with kind firmness. “We know that the Glismak have quarreled with humans, and we also know that some Nyssomu have from time to time been treated unfairly by human traders. We know that the Wyvilo would prefer to sell some of their precious forest products to the people of Var in the South who promise higher prices, rather than sell all of it to the Two Thrones as they are now compelled to do. But these wrongs can be righted in peaceful ways … and so we will not go to war. The Uisgu themselves have no grievance with the human race. Our homes are in the most remote parts of the Misty Mire and our only enemies are the abominable Skritek—and even these monsters harry us only rarely nowadays.”
The other Uisgu present nodded and murmured.
“But wicked humans would come!” Kadiya cried. “The Two Thrones are doomed to fall before the armies of Raktum and Tuzamen. There will be a new king in Labornok—and he is Osorkon, one of those vile men who burnt your villages and slew your children twelve years ago. He will make slaves of all living in Ruwenda—unless you follow me and fight to turn this place into a nation of Folk. I have the solemn word of the sorcerer Orogastus that we will then be left in peace—”
“We do not believe Orogastus,” Nessak said gently. “Nor do we believe you, when you say that war is the only course open to us.”
“My way is the best way!” cried Kadiya desperately. “I would never lie to you! I have dedicated my life to you! I love you—”
Nessak came close to the Lady of the Eyes and looked up at her with sorrow. “I do not think you would deliberately tell us an untruth. And we will always love you. But we can no longer permit you to lead us. May the Flower grant you wisdom!” She pointed to the glowing red trillium within Kadiya’s amulet. “I do not speak of that flower of blood, but of the other, which you have forsworn.”
She turned and walked out into the storm, followed by all of the other Uisgu.
Kadiya looked wildly about at those who remained. “And what about you, Lummomu-Ko?”
The tall Wyvilo leader came and knelt on one scaly knee. “Lady, we have followed you faithfully while the Three Moons thrice waxed and waned. Now we ask you to discharge us, since the other Folk have made their decision and, in doing so, forced our own.”
“I—I—” The words caught in Kadiya’s throat. But she would not weep or otherwise relinquish control of herself. “Go,” she managed to say at last, and Lummomu-Ko rose and bowed, then led his warriors away.
Kadiya watched them go, still disbelieving. Then she shook her head and slumped down onto one of the wicker stools. She began once again to feed pieces of fern-stalk into the fire. “And you, Jagun? Will you also abandon me?” Her voice was dull now.
The little old Nyssomu hunter came out of the shadows where he had stood throughout the drama and climbed onto a stool beside her. He opened his belt pouch and rummaged in it while she waited for him to answer.
“Nothing left to eat but dried adop roots,” he complained. “What a day it’s been!” Using his knife, he cut a chunk from one of the tough, gnarled things and offered it to Kadiya.
She accepted the piece and chewed it reflectively. “When I was a tiny child and you first took me into the swamp, you taught me to eat these rations. And how many times, as we fled King Voltrik’s soldiers, did we sup frugally upon them?”
Jagun nodded. “We have been friends for long years, Farseer. How could I leave you now?” He smiled and held out another bit of root.
Kadiya took it, then turned quickly away as the tears came at last. “Thank you, Jagun.”
For a while they ate in silence. Jagun also shared with her his flagon of water.
She said: “Was I wrong, then, as my sister Haramis says? Tell me the truth, old friend.”
Jagun ruminated for a time, then replied: “Yes. You were wrong. This war of yours, this plan, was not well thought. If you look deeply into your heart, you will discover that there was a dark motive for it that you refused to recognize.”
“What are you saying? Tell me plainly what you think this motive is!”
“Farseer, I cannot. You will believe it only if you find it for yourself … but I think the trouble began with the loss of your talisman.”
She nodded in agreement. “Yes. Without it, I am no longer the leader I was.”
“Nonsense!” said the Nyssomu harshly.
Kadiya blinked in astonishment. He had never dared to speak to her without respect. “But you yourself said that the talisman’s loss was the source of my trouble!”
“You mistake my meaning. In your talisman was great power: magical power! But that was not part of you. In it was neither your true strength, nor your life, nor that which gives meaning to life. Shiki the Dorok tried to tell you this, and I say it also.”
“You are both wrong!”
He shook his head, cutting off another piece of root and popping it into his mouth. It was several minutes before he spoke again. “Power is a thing that few of us are vouchsafed by the Triune. It is neither good nor evil—but it may become one or the other, according to how it is wielded. One may renounce it for good reason and still retain one’s integrity. The loss of power is harder to bear and may bring humiliation, but it need not dishonor one.”
“Anigel’s giving of her talisman to the sorcerer was an act of despicable cowardice!”
“No,” the old hunter said. “It was done for love, and there is no greater motive. The Queen is neither shamed nor diminished by the renunciation alone.”
“But I am both! And this debacle, this rejection of my leadership by the Folk, proves it.” She lifted the lurid amulet. “This proves it!”
“No, it does not. I think it was not your loss but the way you fought against that loss that darkened your soul. The talisman was not truly an essential part of you until you made it so.”
“I don’t understand what you are trying to say. All I know is that I am severed from my life’s work, a rootless and useless person, and I think my heart will break from the pain of it. What am I to do, Jagun? I do not know what will become of me now—”
“Queen Anigel needs your help most sorely,” the old hunter said. “She is threatened by rebellion within and invaders from without, and her own trillium is a sorry blood red because her love for you has soured to hatred. Can you not forget your quarrel and stand by her?”
“Would Ani accept my help after the awful things I said to her? I doubt it … But you are right, Jagun. I did judge my sister too harshly—perhaps because I know so little of the love between men and women. She believed sincerely that ransoming Antar was best for her country as well as a solace for her heart, since it restored the King to his people in the hour of great need. She simply did not understand that the three talismans are m
ore important to the safety of the world than her family and her nation. Her decision was a foolish and sentimental one, but I was wrong to berate her so cruelly.”
Jagun nodded. “And this war you would foment among the Folk. Can you not see the wrongness in it as well?”
She stared at him, and after a long pause she spoke in a voice both hesitant and incredulous. “Did I—did I wish war so that I might reassert my own lost power? Oh, Jagun! Can I have been so mean-spirited?”
“Only you can say if you did such a thing deliberately.”
“I did not!” Her cry was full of misery. “I swear from the bottom of my heart, I did not have such a motive … knowingly.” She looked away from him, her expression changing to one of incredulous horror. “But one does not always recognize the impulses of the secret heart. And it is possible—oh, God, it is possible that I did it unawares, carried away by the strength of my emotions. You know how impetuous I have always been, how my temperament flames as readily as a pinch of tinder sparked by a fire-shell. Lords of the Air, pity me! I see now … but what am I to do?”
Jagun said: “You can make amends. This is always possible, as long as you are willing to forsake your wounded pride and continue loving. Loving the Folk who turned from you! Loving your sisters!”
“I do love the Folk without reservation! You know that.” Kadiya was nearly beside herself with desperation. “And—yes!—I would willingly go now to Anigel, to help her if I could and to atone for my misesteem and failure of love. But it is impossible for me to reach her. It would take me nearly two tennights to reach Derorguila by the overland route in this terrible weather.”
“No, it would not,” said the Archimage, suddenly reappearing.
“Hara! You said you would listen …” Kadiya was torn between her old resentment and her fresh mood of repentance. “Then you know everything. Tell me: Have I judged myself rightly?”