The Tenth Power

  Then Calwyn saw the limp body of Keela floating above her, lit from below by the blue-green light, hair swirling in the water. Keela was not falling into the light. Keela was drowning.

  Anguish pierced Calwyn like an arrow. She would have to give up the light, give up the song, to help Keela.

  Calwyn opened her mouth in a wordless cry of grief, and all her sorrow, all her loss, poured out of her, and the blue-green light poured in. It filled her, overflowed her, and she was breathing light as she breathed in water, and the force of it pushed her up and up. Suddenly her heart began to beat again. It was insistent as a drum, thudding so hard it seemed about to burst from her chest. Her heart dragged her upward, a cork rushing to the surface.

  First Calwyn’s hands, then her head, burst into the air, and she gasped, treading water in an ice-cold bowl of light. Keela floated beside her, face-down, circling in the current. Calwyn was dreaming, a dream where anything was possible. She had breathed the water in, but it had not killed her: instead, it had filled her with a radiant, effortless strength. It was the easiest thing in the world to slip her arm under Keela as she drifted past, and hold her face above the surging water. Keela seemed weightless. Calwyn could feel the fierce, slow tug of the water, but she kicked against it easily, gracefully.

  The light from the bottom of the pools streamed upward, illuminating the whole cavern. A cluster of tiny, dark figures waved and gestured at the edge of the whirlpools. With one slow kick then another, Calwyn swam to the rim, holding Keela afloat, and the shards of ice parted to let her through.

  The others were there, with eager hands, to haul Keela’s limp body from the water. Calwyn didn’t need their help; she put her hands on the stone and raised herself effortlessly from the pool. Light and water streamed from her. She was made of starlight, and she laughed as she stood there, dripping wet, ecstatic. Blue-green light flowed from her fingertips, from her hair; she stood in a puddle of starlight.Then, like quicksilver, the puddle merged into the larger pool. And then the light went out, and the dark returned.

  Only a dozen breaths had passed since the ice gave way.

  In the pitch blackness, everyone spoke at once.

  ‘What was that, where did that light come from?’

  ‘Is the lass all right?’

  ‘Keela’s not breathing – Halasaa, quick!’

  ‘Calwyn?’

  ‘Where’s the Clarion? Darrow, play the Clarion!’

  Calwyn stood oblivious. She was not cold; on the contrary, she was warm through, and tingling all over. Every breath she took was charged with life, every sense was sharpened. She could feel the cold disc of the half-Wheel through her shirt. She could hear each individual breath of her companions, the tiny rustlings of cloth and fur; she could hear the knitting of the ice as the broken whirlpool began to refreeze. Just a moment longer and she would be able to see in the dark.

  Halasaa’s head swung round. Look, there –

  A flaming torch appeared at one of the tunnel-mouths, and the white quartz nearby burst into a million glittering fragments, gold and scarlet, yellow and orange, very different from the eerie blue-green glow that had shone from the pool. A hush fell over the travellers.

  A band of half a dozen people stood in the pool of torchlight at the mouth of the tunnel. They were dressed in grey and white burrower pelts. Their long dark hair was bound, or heaped onto wooden combs, and, like Halasaa, tattoos covered their arms and chests and faces. Calwyn heard Darrow’s sharp intake of breath. The last time they had encountered Halasaa’s people – her own people! – they had been driven away. Voiced Ones are not welcome here.

  Trout whispered, ‘We can see them, but they can’t see us, not with the light in front of them.’

  ‘By the gods, where’s that Clarion?’ hissed Tonno.

  But the Clarion of the Flame was gone, lost in the waters of the whirlpool.

  Halasaa stepped forward. Greetings, sisters and brothers.

  The torch swung to light them up where they stood clustered around Keela. An old woman stepped forward to answer Halasaa. My name is Briaali. We have come to fetch you away from here.

  Tonno said, ‘One of us – I think one of us has drowned.’

  The tiny woman bent her head gravely. It is forbidden to enter theWaters. They quench life’s flame.

  Calwyn used mind-speech without thinking. Please – I was in theWaters, too. And – It was only as she formed the words that she knew they were true, and she felt a thrill of joy as she spoke. Keela is alive, too! Calwyn’s sense of becoming had returned. Keela was weak, and her pulse was feeble, but she had not been drowned.

  ‘Thank the gods!’ breathed Tonno.

  The old woman stared searchingly at Calwyn. To the one who gives life for the sake of another, the Knot of Waters gives a new life. You saved her?

  Yes.

  Briaali gave a brusque nod. You have been granted a rare gift, daughter. With sudden impatience, she clapped her hands and beckoned. You must come outside now.

  ‘Outside?’ exclaimed Trout. ‘But we’re so far underground!’

  Briaali shook her head. Not far. Your friend needs warmth and care.

  Tonno hoisted Keela into his arms, and in subdued silence the travellers edged their way around the cavern. The ice was hardening across the pools, but no one ventured onto it; those who had not already removed their skates did so now. Trout and Halasaa fetched the sleds, and Darrow sang a low chantment of iron to help move them to the tunnel where the Tree People were waiting.

  Unnoticed by the others, Calwyn knelt by the rim of the turquoise-coloured pool. Her heart was beating hard, thudding against the brokenWheel inside her jacket. A thin crust of ice had re-formed on the surface of the pool. Calwyn broke it, and scooped up some water. Swiftly, in a whisper, she sang the simple chantment that she’d learned as a little girl in Antaris.

  As she sang, the little puddle hardened in her hand. Hardly daring to breathe, Calwyn took the clear disc of ice between her fingertips and held it up. The torchlight sent a scatter of tiny rainbows dancing through it. Calwyn laughed, a strange breathless laugh that was almost a sob of disbelief.

  Darrow! Darrow! She ran across the cave toward him, flourishing the little disc. I can sing – I can sing!

  She was about to throw her arms around him, but abruptly he flung out his gloved hand and thrust her away so hard that he almost knocked her down. ‘Calwyn, you fool! If you can sing again, you mustn’t touch me!’

  Calwyn stared at him, eyes wide.Then she covered her face with her hands.The disc of ice shattered into a thousand tiny shards on the white stone floor.

  Come, all of you! Briaali’s voice was stern. It is forbidden to stay too long by theWaters.

  Calwyn stood still, her face hidden, as one by one the others trooped past her down the narrow tunnel. Halasaa was the last and, without speaking, he put his arm about her shoulders and led her from the cavern.

  nine

  The Arrival of the Voiced Ones

  IN SILENCE, THEY followed Briaali through the steep tunnel. The passage was so narrow and twisted that it blocked every particle of sunlight, but after a surprisingly short time they emerged into a cave that opened wide onto the snowy forest.

  In the daylight, Calwyn saw that Darrow’s face was grey, and his hands shook. His eyes met hers.

  ‘I tried to sing you out of the water,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I tried, but I – ’ His voice cracked, and Calwyn moved to him, but he held up his hand.

  Tonno laid Keela down beside one of several crackling fires, sheltered behind a screen of branches. There were about forty Tree People in the camp; they stared at the voiced strangers warily, but without hostility. All the travellers recognised on their faces the intent, preoccupied look that Calwyn and Halasaa wore when they spoke silently together.

  Brother and sister knelt by Keela; she was breathing, but she was very cold. Halasaa turned her head and helped her to cough up the last of the water she’d swallowed. Together he and C
alwyn restored the blood to her limbs, and made sure she was wrapped up warmly. Halasaa’s words were sober. I do not know if she will survive.

  Calwyn smoothed the damp golden hair from Keela’s brow. She has come close to death. Perhaps too close to return.

  You saved her, my sister. Even though she tried to kill you.

  Is that what she intended? Calwyn stared down at Keela’s pale, beautiful face. I don’t know.

  Briaali watched closely as their hands moved over Keela. She was as old as Marna, perhaps even older. But where Marna had been soft and gentle, everything about Briaali was sharp-edged and glittering. Her small face was deeply lined, but her hair shone dark and glossy, barely shot through with silver, and her small black eyes were bright and shrewd. You are healers?

  Halasaa stood, his body taut as he braced for rejection or abuse. Yes.

  We are both healers. Calwyn stood too, shoulder to shoulder with her brother, ready to spring to his defence.

  You are welcome here. Briaali wrinkled her eyes in an unexpected smile. We have much to discuss.

  By the big fire, Tonno pulled Calwyn into a bear hug. ‘Is it true, lass, what Darrow says?You’ve got your chantment back?’

  ‘Yes!’ Calwyn laughed as she returned his hug. ‘There was a deep magic in that pool, deeper than I can understand.’

  When she heard Calwyn speak aloud, Briaali’s eyes screwed up sharply. You are a Voiced One, my sister? But the Voiced Ones do not have the gift of healing.

  We were born together. Halasaa answered for them both. Our mother was a chanter of the Voiced Ones, our father a healer of the Spiridrelleen. Calwyn has inherited the gifts of both our parents.

  Briaali nodded slowly. Then you are blessed indeed.

  ‘Yes,’ said Calwyn simply. In the past, it had seemed a fearful burden to be able to sing so many kinds of chantment. But now, glowing from her immersion in theWaters, she was sure that she could carry that burden with grace. The exuberant certainty that she could do anything was still with her. She felt as if she had come awake after a long sleep. The numbness that had wrapped around her like a cocoon of ice for the last half-year was shattered utterly. She breathed the crisp, fresh air deep into her lungs, her heart skipping.

  Your father was a healer? Briaali peered into Halasaa’s face. Was he Halwi, of the Blazetree People?

  For once in his life, Halasaa was startled. You knew him?

  Briaali nodded. We were friends. He shared the old knowledge with me, but I have no gift of Becoming, and could not use what he taught. She gestured around the cave to her companions. My brothers and sisters here all wish the old wisdom had been preserved. We have suffered among our people, for believing so. She laid one wrinkled hand on Halasaa’s arm, and one on Calwyn’s. I am glad Halwi fathered children, so that his gift was not lost.

  And now I must use that gift. Halasaa moved toward the fire. Darrow has waited too long.

  Suddenly tears sprang into Calwyn’s eyes. ‘The Clarion! The Clarion is lost! I think I could have saved it – but I helped Keela instead.’

  ‘Mebbe we can fish it out of the pool,’ suggested Tonno, but the Tree People all drew back, frowning in disapproval.

  ‘It’s all right, Calwyn,’ said Trout. ‘Don’t cry. It’s worth losing the Clarion to have you back, singing.’

  ‘It’s worth losing the Clarion to have you alive,’ murmured Darrow. ‘Chanter or not.’

  Again Calwyn had a wild urge to throw her arms around Darrow, to kiss his mouth and his hands. She didn’t care if she caught the snow-sickness; she felt invulnerable. ‘The Waters have healed me – surely they will heal you, too! Let’s try!’ She reached out to touch him, but Darrow pulled away.

  Briaali’s voice sounded sharply in their minds. Do not look for such a gift to be given twice. She turned to Darrow. If you are ill, drinking from theWaters will strengthen you. But no more than that.

  ‘Change your clothes, Calwyn,’ said Darrow in a low voice. ‘Before you catch a fever.’

  While Calwyn hastily dragged on dry clothes, Halasaa laid his hands on Darrow’s shoulders and poured healing power into his body.The others began the formalities of hospitality: making introductions, and passing a cup of warm, sweet flower-wine from hand to hand. One by one, the Tree People scattered about the cave drew close and sat down. But as Calwyn rejoined the circle, she sensed that Briaali was impatient with the ritual. As if the Elder had heard her thoughts, her glittering eyes fixed on Calwyn. I am old, and soon my time will be over. I have no will to wait. The light in her eyes went out. The trouble which faces us is too urgent.

  ‘This endless winter – ’ Darrow raised his head.

  ‘And the snow-sickness!’ Calwyn interrupted.

  Briaali leaned forward. Snow-sickness?

  ‘An illness that attacks chanters,’ said Darrow. He looked away. ‘I am infected.’

  I am sorry, my friend.

  The snow-sickness is beyond my healing, put in Halasaa. I do not understand it.

  Briaali nodded. Something is eating at the fabric of the world. This sickness may be a part of it –

  A faint memory chimed in Calwyn’s mind, but she was so eager to interrupt Briaali that it vanished. ‘We know what caused the sickness, and held back the coming of spring! An object called theWheel holds dark magic, the chantments of the Tenth Power. TheWheel was broken, two years ago, and those chantments were released – ’

  The Tenth Power?What magic is this? Briaali spoke over Calwyn.

  ‘We don’t know – not exactly. But the chantments must be very powerful, to alter the seasons, and bring a plague on chanters all over Tremaris!’ Calwyn’s words spilled out faster and faster. ‘I have one half of theWheel. A sorcerer, Samis, has the other.We’re on our way to find him now.We must stop him before he releases more dark magic. If we can rejoin the Wheel, all the harm will be undone. Spring will come. All the chanters will be cured!’ Breathless, she smiled into Darrow’s grave grey-green eyes, brimming with confidence that their quest would succeed, and Darrow would be saved.

  A powerful object indeed. Briaali held out her hand. May I see it?

  Calwyn drew out the half-Wheel and passed it to Briaali. The Elder examined it carefully, but after a moment she shook her head. There may be magic here. But what ails Tremaris did not come from yourWheel. The troubles began long ago.

  Calwyn snatched back the half-Wheel and cradled it protectively. ‘But – but Marna said –TheWheel and theTenth Power hold the answer!’ she cried. ‘And so didTamen – I know they were right!When we mend theWheel, we will mend the world. I know it!’

  Briaali gave her a cool, hard stare.You are the child of two peoples, a singer of songs and a dancer of healing. TheWaters granted you a new life. Do not waste it on broken rocks and idle prophecies.

  Calwyn folded her lips as stubbornly as Mica. Briaali was an Elder and deserved respect, but she was wrong, wrong, wrong! It was Briaali who wasted time, sitting and talking, while Calwyn burned to seize back the other half-Wheel, to make it whole. That was the answer, no matter what Briaali thought!

  And Samis knew that, too.

  The realisation jolted through her. All through this journey, they had spoken of the need to stop Samis doing more harm. But why should he wish to damage the world he wanted to rule? Wasn’t it more likely that his quest was the same as their own, to repair the harm thatTamen had done? It was power that Samis craved, not destruction. Perhaps – perhaps they could work together? She was bursting to share this revelation with the others, but Briaali was still speaking.

  I am old. You are all young. Too young to remember. The fruit hung heavy from the trees, and in spring the new leaves burst with life. But every year, the life in the forest weakens. The trees do not grow so high, the leaves turn yellow before their season. And now this terrible winter. But it is not the beginning of the trouble, and it is not the whole of the trouble. That began long ago.

  Tonno broke in. ‘When my grandpa was young, the fish swam so thick
in the oceans, he could bring up a day’s catch in his two hands. Ain’t like that now.’

  Darrow said, ‘The plants and the beasts have grown more feeble, and so has the power of chantment. Magic has faded all over Tremaris. I’ve seen it in my own lifetime. In Merithuros, there are fewer chanters than when I first went there, only twenty years ago.’

  Trout said, ‘Mica always says, when her grandma was a girl, every woman in the Isles could sing up a chantment of windwork.Well, that’s not true any more.’

  Halasaa looked at Briaali. My sister and I are the last to know the dances of healing. Is that part of this nameless trouble, too?

  Indeed. Briaali’s face was grave. These things are all connected. The pool of life and magic is not yet dry, but every year it becomes more shallow.

  ‘It’s the work of theTenth Power!’ insisted Calwyn. ‘It must be!’

  Briaali held up her hand. These troubles are dreadful indeed, but there is another, more urgent danger that confronts us. We came here, as the Wise Ones did in the old days, to seek guidance.The Knot of theWaters holds the answer to every riddle, and the completion of every dance.

  ‘There’s another danger? What?’ Tonno scowled, and put his hand to the hilt of his knife.

  Many young ones, young men, among my people believe that the seed of the troubles was sown when the invaders came.

  ‘Invaders?’Trout was puzzled.

  The Voiced Ones, rapped out Briaali. Your people!

  ‘Oh,’ said Trout feebly. ‘Of course.’

  The young men call themselves warriors. They believe that the only way to restore the life to our world is to banish the Voiced Ones from Tremaris.

  ‘War?’ breathed Darrow. ‘They want war?’

  ‘How can they hope to win a war against theVoiced Ones?’ cried Trout. ‘There’s no chance! Our weapons are superior – I should know, I used to build them! And there’s all the trained armies, Merithuros, Rengan, Baltimar, they’ve been practising fighting each other for years.’