After a while Tali came in with Flow behind her.
“You’re awake,” Tali said. “Good. He’s asked to see you.”
It was an effort to get up and change my clothes; an effort to brush and replait my hair. Flow set food and drink before me, then stood with hands on hips watching me eat.
“Is it all right?” I asked. “Is he angry? Is Lady Siona happy to be back?”
“I don’t think you need worry about that,” Tali said with a crooked smile. “Nor will you have to give lengthy explanations, since everyone including the Lord and Lady seems to know all about Regan and the rebellion, as well as your own history, even some bits that are new to me.” She lifted her brows in query.
“Oh. I did talk to him quite a bit, told stories and so on. In the first days I couldn’t think what else to do. I didn’t realize he could hear me; he was sunk so deep in his sleep.”
“Saves explaining anyway,” she said. “When you’re ready, we’ll go.”
Beyond the door of our chamber, the household was transformed. There were lights everywhere and folk bustling about; the uniform gray cloaks had been discarded to reveal garments decorated with feathers and fur, and as they met in the hallways, members of the household were stopping to greet each other with smiles. As Tali and I passed, folk reached out to touch me, to thank me, to offer shy nods or extravagant bows. There was no doubt that in their minds I had achieved the required miracle.
The Lord of the North received us in a council chamber, where he sat at a table fashioned from a huge stone slab set across two slightly less monumental blocks. He was alone save for the Twa, who stood guard on either side of him. They made no move as I came in, but Constant smiled and Trusty winked.
I advanced to the table. “I am Neryn, my lord, the Caller. You asked to see me.”
He rested his chin on steepled hands and regarded me across the table. It felt odd to see his features released from the sleeplike spell; they were full of bright intelligence and alive with question. He continued his scrutiny for some time without saying a word.
“My lord,” I said eventually, “I hope the action I’ve taken has not offended you. It was hard to know what to do. Your people needed you. The Twa, Flow, Whisper, your warriors—all your folk were desperate to see you restored to yourself. But I also had a purpose of my own for seeking you out. I need your guidance. I’m told you already know about King Keldec and the way he has changed Alban for the worse; about the planned rebellion. I have an important part to play in that, but without your assistance, I cannot do it.”
“I understand this,” he said, his voice deep and sure. “While I lay silent, I was not deaf to the tales you told me. You spoke with sincerity and passion. As for offense, none was taken. You brought my lady home. You brought love back to my lonely hall. You helped me, and now I will help you. They tell me you want to learn, and they say time is short. What is it you seek from me?”
“To learn the magic of earth and stone,” I said, “so I can use it to strengthen my gift.”
A smile curved his thin lips. “What was it you used to bring Lady Siona back to me, if not the very magic of which you speak? I felt your tendrils in my mind; I felt you seeking out the secrets I had hidden deep. You understood the heart of an oak; you became one with earth; you trod the slow pathways of stone. Besides, did you not call one of my beings out to help you, long before you knew you would be traveling here? Did not you bring forth one of my own to crush your enemy? In the magic of stone you have a natural ability, and you are already proficient.”
“My lord, I am happy that I could be of service to you and to your household. Yes, I have done those things you mention. But I still have much to learn before I can use my gift for the good of Alban. You know, I think, that our leader—the leader of the rebels, Regan—plans a confrontation next midsummer, at Summerfort, while the king and his forces are all gathered there.”
“And the plan is that you call my kind to the assistance of your human rebels. Yes, if I had not learned that from the tales you told by my bedside, my guards would no doubt have recounted it.” He glanced in turn at the Twa. “You have made some fast friends during your time here, Neryn.”
“I know, my lord, and I am glad of it. My lord, the Hag of the Isles taught me to be fluid as water; to move as the sea does, to learn the shapes of things, to single out one being among many and call to it. And in this hall … calling the Lady Siona was something new for me. I have never before tried to call a being who was far away and in a place unknown to me. Since I managed to do it, and do it successfully, perhaps I do have more ability than I thought. But … I cannot imagine that the forces we’d need at Summerfort, the uncanny forces, could be there in some kind of disguise, ready to reveal themselves on command when they were required. Regan’s plan depends very much on the element of surprise. The loyal chieftains will have their men-at-arms ready, of course, and the rebels can be in the crowd. Your folk … they would be far harder to hide. I believe I would have to call them from afar. I would need to send a call strong enough to summon many, but precise enough to fetch only those able to fight alongside us.” I hesitated. “There’s the question of cold iron. Is it true what your folk have said, that there is no charm or spell that renders immunity against its destructive power?”
“Ah,” said the Lord of the North, sitting back and folding his arms. “The heart of the matter. Not only will you need to call with strength and precision, you will need to do it quickly, if I understand the plan. You’ll have a few moments, no more, before this king senses trouble and orders his forces to attack. And your rebel army, I imagine, is somewhat more makeshift than Keldec’s.”
“Makeshift but well drilled,” I said.
He smiled again. “That does not surprise me; I understand your friend has transformed my own army during her time here. You can expect their support when the time comes.”
This was a remarkable offer. “Thank you, my lord. Regan will be well pleased with that news.”
“So. I will help you to refine your call in the manner you require. I will give you the rudiments; you must practice after you leave my hall. They tell me time is running short for you.”
“I do not know how long we have been here already, my lord. But we do need to return to Shadowfell before the end of autumn.”
“Then time is indeed short, and we have work to do. As for the matter of cold iron, my answer will not please you. I have no charm by which its influence may be kept at bay. My own fighters have a natural resistance to it, but that is not so for many of the Good Folk. You’ll have seen its effects. You’ll understand why our people keep away when it is present. The Westies in particular. Call them into a place full of iron weaponry, and you’ll earn lasting enmity toward yourself and your kind. That is not the way to begin a new age.”
The weight of this was heavy in my heart. “So there is no shield against iron,” I said.
“That is not what I said.”
I waited, not daring to breathe.
“Fire masters iron,” the Lord said quietly. “You’ve seen a smith at work, yes? I think the answer you want may lie in the south. You should seek out the Master of Shadows.”
Torn between dismay and hope, I protested, “I only have from spring to midsummer, and I must travel east to visit the White Lady! I saw the Master of Shadows. He told me I needed to learn something from each of you, from each Guardian, before I could use my gift fully. He did not … He implied that meeting him that day and undergoing his test was sufficient for his part of my training. I don’t think there can possibly be time.…” Tali would be horrified.
“Perhaps not. And perhaps I am wrong. All of us would like a charm of defense against iron. I have not heard of its ever being used; it does not appear in the lore. Possibly it does not exist. I suggest only that if it did, that is where it would be found.”
“I see. Thank you, my lord.”
“No need for thanks.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Tonight ther
e will be feasting and celebration. Tomorrow we start work. My gift to you will be to ensure you leave this place with some, at least, of the answers you need. Go now, Neryn.”
Over the days that followed, while the household grew bright and joyful under the benign eye of Lady Siona, the Lord of the North took me down to the caverns where his warriors honed their skills to work on my call. He taught me to concentrate my energy tightly, to encompass a whole group of folk with my mind, to see the one-in-many that would allow me to bring five, ten, twenty beings to me in a matter of moments.
He used his own folk as the material of my practice: not only Scar and his fellow fighters, but Flow, Whisper, the Twa. He made me call others, folk from beyond the confines of his dwelling, folk of whom I had only a faint notion. He made me place his people at risk; he made me put them to the test. It was not comfortable learning, but I did it without protest, though it troubled my dreams at night.
It became clear to me that the Lord loved to teach. He worked me rigorously. He spent long days with me, and set high standards. When I struggled or made errors, he did not grow angry, merely analyzed the difficulty and made me try again. He was good at explaining, always providing reasons for what he told me, spelling things out in logical sequence. I often remembered those images of him with Gem, the two of them engrossed in their discoveries, the same delight on their faces, the same shining enthusiasm in their eyes. As a fey girl, she had doubtless been more apt than I. As his daughter, she had probably challenged him far more. I knew I could not measure up to her, and I did not try to, only felt glad that he took some pleasure in working with me.
As for Scar and the others, it helped that they were willing participants. I had given them back not only the Lord for whom they had waited so long and so faithfully but their Lady as well. They were all too ready to subject themselves to whatever the Lord required of me: calls out to the mountainside at odd times of day, calls to leap into a mock battle, a call that brought a huge creature suddenly into their midst, a being of mud and shale and old tree roots that sat there scratching itself and whimpering, until the Lord called Whisper to make it small and carry it outside to be released among the rocks.
And, after a while, calls that encompassed not only the folk of the north, but Westies as well. Calls that traveled over countless miles of mountain and loch and forest, all the way to the wooded hills by Silverwater. Not Sage; not Red Cap. But I called Daw, the bird-man, and others of that clan, at first on their own, and then at the same time as folk from the mountains. They were not best pleased to find themselves here in a northern hall, but the Lord’s household greeted them courteously, and provided refreshments before he used his own magic to convey them home again.
“We lack the time for you to learn dismissal as well as summoning,” he told me. “When you called a stanie mon, you were able to reverse the call with the same kind of rhyme. A creature like that thinks very simply; the childhood rhyme you used was ideal for his understanding. For others it is more difficult. If you were able to stay with us over the winter, I could teach you. But your friend is eager to depart, and I think she will not leave you behind.”
“She’s concerned about our comrades. And she needs to be there for winter, to keep them strong and to help Regan with strategy. I need to report to him as well. But I thank you for the offer; perhaps, at some time in the future, I might return here and study further with you, my lord.”
“My door is open to you, Neryn. For a human woman, you learn well. As for the matter of reversing a call, should you win your battle, those of our folk who survive will make their own ways home.”
Those who survive. Despite all I had learned, midsummer remained a grim prospect.
Only once did the Lord of the North speak to me about the choice I had made, when faced with the need to wake him. It was after a long day’s training, when Tali and the warriors had left the cavern where we worked to go upstairs to supper, and only he and I were left, with the ever-present Twa close by.
“You chose not to call me out of my slumber,” he said. “You chose instead to call my wife. A very wise choice, when it came to it. I heard that Flow advised you.”
“Yes, my lord.” I was somewhat reluctant to talk to him of true love, and the presence of Flint in my thoughts when I had called Lady Siona to her husband’s side.
“If you would raise a mighty army to do battle against this king, your command of your gift must be total. You must be prepared to summon anyone. Is not your cause served best by the most powerful beings in your realm?”
“I believe, my lord, that it is served best by the wisest. Indeed, perhaps the wisest are the most powerful.”
The Lord gave a slow smile. “I wish you were staying,” he said, almost as if he were an ordinary man.
I had expected a test, like the one to which the Hag had subjected me before I left the isles; something that would require me to demonstrate mastery of all he had taught me. But the only thing he made me do was send Whisper away without using words. My call was to be quite specific: Whisper was to fly over the Rush valley, from Shadowfell to Summerfort, and return with a report as soon as possible. I knew there were other winged beings, lesser ones, that regularly carried out this kind of task. But I did as I was bid, and one morning Whisper flew off across mountains whose peaks sparkled under the rising sun; already, in the highest places, there was snow. How long such a journey would take, I did not know. The instruction had been to fly, not to travel the quick way, in darkness and silence, by magic.
Once Whisper was gone, it seemed the formal part of my training was over. The next morning the Lord took me walking on the mountain, just the two of us, without even Constant or Trusty. I wore my fur-lined cloak and carried my staff. We climbed a steep and perilous path. He made me walk on the inside and hold on to his arm.
The sky was gray; ominous clouds massed in the north. Shadows lay over the peaks and the land was eerily still. Our path led to a broad shelf, behind which rose a sheer cliff face, dauntingly high. At its foot a little cairn had been erected, white stones placed with precision, and over the cairn crept a mountain plant dotted with five-petaled yellow flowers. We halted beside it.
“This is where she fell,” said the Lord of the North. “Here she lies, under the stones. Some lessons, a person can grasp quickly, if he has a mind to it. Some are harder, learned over long years of struggle and confusion. The lessons of loss are hardest of all. Take to heart what you taught me, Neryn; cherish what you have, for in an instant it can be gone. And when it’s gone, let the memory not be a weight that drags you down, but a bright light leading you forward. She was like that. Gem. A light. Quick and shining and full of life.”
His words conjured an image of Flint, white-faced, white-knuckled, standing tall before Keldec’s hard questions. I remembered our night on the island, a precious gift in a world of doubt and hard choices. Tears brimmed in my eyes.
And there beside us was Lady Siona, come from nowhere. She wore a white fur cloak and carried a little lantern shaped like a cat. I had hardly spoken with her, immersed as I had been in the long days of learning. Now she smiled at me, and reached out a hand to wipe away my tears.
“You have brought such happiness, my dear,” she said. “I think you have touched the heart of every man and woman in our dark old hall. As she did, our lovely daughter.” She bent to place the lantern by the cairn. “You do not weep for her, I believe, but for a dear friend of your own. Perhaps Whisper will bring news of him.”
But Whisper, when he returned, brought news of a different kind entirely.
“Neryn! You need to get up, now, quickly!”
“Whaa …?” It could not be morning yet, surely. I closed my eyes again, burying my face in the pillow.
“Wake up, Neryn! We have to go, now, straightaway!”
I forced myself to sit up, rubbing my eyes. The lantern was lit, and I saw that Tali was fully dressed. Our staves were propped together against the wall, my old one and her fine new w
eapon crafted of old oak, a gift from the northern warriors. Beside them were two bags, one full and strapped up, the other—mine—apparently packed, but open.
“It’s the middle of the night,” I protested. “What is this?”
“Get up. I’ll tell you while you get dressed. Here.” She even had my clothes ready—gown, tunic, cloak, walking boots. Something had happened. Something bad. I heard it in her voice.
“What?” I said, shivering as I took off my warm night-robe, a gift from Flow.
“Whisper. He’s back, and he’s brought ill news. He saw …” She was struggling to get the words out.
“Say it, Tali.”
Tali shook her head. I saw her take a deep breath and gather herself. “Some of our people, making their way back to Shadowfell. They were in trouble. Bad trouble. Hurry up, Neryn, get your boots on.”
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” I wrenched my hair into a rough twist and knotted it at the nape. I thrust my feet into my boots, then gathered my small items and shoved them into the pack.
“You needed sleep. It made more sense to get everything ready before we woke you.” She gathered her pack and staff. Flow was in the doorway now, picking up my pack, motioning to us that we should follow her. The place seemed full of flickering shadows as we walked along the passageways to the Lord’s council chamber. The door stood open; within were the Lord of the North and Whisper, the Twa, and the warrior Scar.
It was all happening so quickly; too quickly. The Lord bade me a grave farewell and kissed me on the forehead. He reminded me that I was welcome to return whenever I wished. Scar and Tali thumped each other on the shoulder without saying anything. Flow embraced me. Constant and Trusty bent to hug me in turn. I was crying and so were they. And still nobody had explained, not properly.