The power was still there, Tal perceived. But it had somehow retreated into the depths of the stone. He had to bring it out, open it up, before Milla threw him off the mast. As he thought that, Tal felt her hand grip his ankle. Her fingers tightened, ready to pull him away.
"Light begets light," Tal heard his father's voice say, echoing up from the depths of his memory. That was one of the first lessons learned by every Chosen. Tal had heard it on his father's knee, when he was no older than Kusi was now.
Light begets light.
But he had no light. Milla was prying his foot away from the mast. He had to create some light to restart the Sunstones. He had to do something!
One foot came free, and Milla gave a shout of triumph. Tal kicked at her, but that made his position even worse. He slipped down a rung, and the chain around his neck broke. He still held the Sunstone, but that left only one hand for the mast.
"Quick as a Sunstone spark," said another voice in his mind. Great-uncle Ebbitt's voice. "Quick as a Sunstone spark."
"Light!" screamed Tal. Balancing solely on one foot, he struck the two Sunstones together. A huge spark shot out as they met, and all of a sudden his Sunstone burst back into glorious light. A moment later, so did the Icecarls' stone. It was brighter than it had been before, and the color was even, without flickering.
Milla put the foot she held back onto a rung and silently began to climb back down.
Tal looked and saw Icecarls everywhere, dropping back down onto the deck. He swallowed and took several very slow breaths.
"Thank you, Father," he whispered to the wind. "Thank you, Great-uncle Ebbitt."
Then he slowly climbed down, too. It had been a narrow escape.
On the deck, the Crone was waiting. Forkbeard stood next to her, his ax in its sheath upon his back.
"You have done as you said," she said. "So we will do likewise. We will not give you to the ice."
Tal nodded. Then, without knowing why he bothered to tell her more, he said, "I've only mended it for a while. The Sunstone is old. It will fade in time, and there is nothing I can do to make it last longer."
"Yes," said the Crone. "It is known that Sunstones die, as do all things upon the ice. But you have helped us now."
"And you have shown that I accused you falsely!" said Forkbeard. He raised his voice and added, "I,
Grim Forkbeard, say it so all can hear. You spoke truly, Tal. To mend my wrong, I I… I offer to adopt you as my son and take you into the Clan of the Far-Raiders, blood and bone."
Tal stared at him. Obviously these people weren't really Underfolk, so the offer wasn't a complete insult.
But I
don't want to be adopted; I have to get back home!
He started to answer, then saw the Crone narrow her eyes at him, as if in unspoken warning.
That made him think, and pause. Among these savages, Grim Forkbeard seemed quite important. He was also extremely large and fierce-looking. It was best to be polite to him, even if he wasn't one of the Chosen.
"I thank you, Grim Forkbeard," he said, bowing and raising his Sunstone, though he only let it spark out a little light. "But I have my own family in the Castle, and I must return there as soon as I can."
Forkbeard nodded. He looked a bit relieved, as if he'd been forced to make his offer out of good manners. Tal was surprised, because he wouldn't have thought the Icecarls had anything like manners.
The Crone nodded, too.
"Wisely spoken, Tal," she said. "Let us go below. We will eat Selski meat, drink vitska, and talk of what your future holds. Milla, you will come, too."
The Crone picked up the urn with Tal's shadow-guard and led the way to an open hatch.
Tal was surprised to see that below decks was a large, open space. All the Icecarls lived together down here. Light was provided by tall tubes of some clear material, filled with water and floating clots of jelly that shone with a yellowish light. As Tal passed by one of these tubes, he tapped it. The clots of jelly rushed to his finger, and he saw that they were marine creatures.
"Glowjellies," said the Crone. "Hard to catch, under the ice."
She led the way between sleeping Icecarls who were just lying against the curved ribs of the ship, wrapped in their furs. Tal was careful not to step on any of them, for all lay with their weapons by their hands, and he saw that many opened one eye as he approached.
As Tal's eyes adjusted more to the dim light, he saw that while it was a large, open space, there were partitions here and there. But even these only had thick curtains instead of doors. Curtains of fur and shiny black hide.
The Crone led Tal to one of these curtains and pulled it back, revealing a small chamber. A low table was in the middle, surrounded by cushions of all shapes and sizes.
"Sit," said the Crone as she placed the urn down. Tal sat down next to it and touched the smooth side, as if he might feel his shadowguard through the fired clay.
Milla sat down, too, as far away as she could. The Crone went back out, leaving the two of them alone.
For a while Tal tried to meet Milla's stare, but after she went for several minutes without blinking he got tired of that and looked away. She laughed, a scornful laugh that made him mad. But there was nothing he could do. She wanted him to attack her with his Sunstone, Tal knew.
She wanted an excuse to fight him.
CHAPTER SEVEnTEEn
Before Milla or Tal cracked and started to fight, the Crone came back in, carrying a bowl of something that steamed and smelled rather disgusting. She put it on the table and gave Tal an object that he supposed was meant to be a fork, though it was made of bone and only had two tines.
"Selski meat," the Crone said. "The lifeblood of our people. Where the Selski go, we follow, taking their old, the ill, and the weak. Selski meat fills our stomachs, Selski skin gives us clothes and sails, Selski bone our tools and weapons, Selski gut the strings for our harps."
"It tastes better than it smells," she added, pushing the bowl toward Tal. She must have seen his nose wrinkle.
Reluctantly, Tal jabbed at a piece of the meat and put it in his mouth. Suddenly, as he tasted it, he became ravenous. It did taste all right, but mostly he was just incredibly hungry.
The Crone left while he ate, but Milla sat there, staring. If she blinked, she did it while Tal wasn't looking. She didn't eat, either.
"Why don't you have some?" Tal asked when he had eaten his fill. He pushed the bowl toward her tentatively, almost like a peace offering.
"A Shield Maiden does not eat in front of a prisoner," Milla said stiffly. "A Shield Maiden does not sleep in front of a prisoner. A Shield Maiden -"
"Tal is not a prisoner," interrupted the Crone, who had come back in. She held the curtain back to let whoever was with her in.
It was a very old woman, Tal saw. A hunched over, wrinkled, and faded lady, who was not much bigger than Gref. She looked at Tal, and he saw that her eyes were milky, without pupils. She was clearly blind.
The effect she had on Milla was striking. The girl leaped to her feet and pushed her clenched fists together in salute.
"Mother Crone!" Milla exclaimed.
Tal got up, too, since it seemed to be the thing to do. From Milla's exclamation, he figured that this blind old lady was more important than the Crone.
"This is the Mother Crone, most ancient and wise," said the Crone, leading the old lady over to Tal. "She has come to see what your future holds and help us decide what must be done with you."
The old lady did not speak. She took Tal's hands in her own and turned the palms up. Then with one long, very yellow fingernail, she traced the lines from his wrist across the palm.
Tal let her do it, but only because Milla was there and he knew she would do something to him if he tore his hand away. It felt really weird having this ancient fingernail drag across his skin. He couldn't help staring at it, so long and yellow, more like the talon of an animal than a human fingernail.
Then the Mother Crone lifted his
hand to her face and pressed his fingers against her milky eyes. Tal flinched, and his disgust must have shown on his face, for Milla took a step forward, anger in her eyes.
Anything might have happened then, but the Mother Crone spoke, and at the sound of her voice, everyone was still. It wasn't loud, but it seemed to echo inside Tal's head. Even when the voice got softer, Tal found that he could hear nothing else. All the background noises of ship, ice, and Icecarls faded away.
There was only the voice of the Mother Crone.
Far have you fallen Yet not so far
Long must you travel Yet not so long
Home is the Castle Yet it is not home
Shadows befriend you Yet are not friends
Shield Maiden stands by you Yet not back to back
Light warms you Yet shadows fall
Blood binds you Yet binds you not
Evil hunts you Yet hungers not
Darkness hides you Yet blinds you not
Sunstones fall from you Yet into others' hands.
The voice trailed away. Tal sat down suddenly, the echo still going on inside his head. He was hardly aware of saying good-bye to the Mother Crone as she was led past the curtain, into waiting hands.
"That seems clear," said the Crone. She smiled, for the first time that Tal had seen, showing very white teeth.
"What seems clear?" Tal muttered. He felt really woozy, like he'd just woken up from a really long sleep.
"We're going to help you get back to your Castle. And you are going to get us a new Sunstone."
That broke Tal out of his dreamy state. "What?!"
"The Mother Crone has prophesied," said the Crone. "We will send someone with you, to help you on the Ice. When you get back to the Castle, you will give her a Sunstone in return."
"Her?" asked Tal suspiciously.
"Milla," replied the Crone, smiling again. "It will be her Shield Maiden Quest to see you safely to the Mountain of Light and to your Castle that is built upon it."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"What!" screamed Milla. "How could you do this to me?"
"'A Shield Maiden faces her faults,'" recited the Crone, still smiling. "Besides, this is the greatest quest I have ever given - to go to the Mountain of Light, to bring back a Sunstone."
"So you knew where the Castle was all along?" interrupted Tal. "You knew I was telling the truth?"
"Yes," said the Crone. "The Crones know of it, for your Castle is the only permanently bright thing in the sky, there atop its mountain. But it is forbidden to us, for we know it houses great evil, where shadows rule."
"That's not true!" exclaimed Tal. "Shadowspirits serve us. The Chosen rule them. They are servants, like my shadowguard you keep locked up there. That's all."
"That is no more than a Selski sprat is to a Merwin," said the Crone. She wasn't smiling now. "We know of what these shadows are, and how our ancestors fought them, and raised the darkness that protects us."
"Your ancestors!" said Tal. "They had nothing to do with the Veil. The Chosen made it, because the sun is too strong."
"Don't speak to the Crone like that," said Milla, and she raised her fist.
"Enough!" said the Crone. "We must bind you to the Quest. Tal, give me your arm."
Slowly, Tal put out his arm. The Crone took it and slid the sleeve of his fur coat back, to show his bare wrist. Tal waited, thinking she was going to read the future in it or say something like the Mother Crone had said. He was totally unprepared when she suddenly produced a large tusk and sliced it across his skin.
"Ahhh!" he shouted, pulling his hand back. Blood was already welling out. Tal saw that the Crone had actually cut him three times, very swiftly, making a strange, triangular pattern in his skin.
"Weakling," commented Milla and she held out her wrist. It was already scarred in the triangular pattern. The Crone cut near the old scars, and Milla watched the blood appear without flinching.
"Clench your fist to keep the blood coming," instructed the Crone. "And follow me."
"Keep it flowing?" asked Tal. These Icecarls were even madder than he thought. But he did clench his fist, watching the beads of blood come out. The Crone hadn't cut deep at all. She must have had lots of practice. Tal shuddered, thinking what might have happened if she wasn't so good at it.
They went back onto the deck. The Sunstone on the mast was still shining brightly, which Tal was glad to see. But it was snowing again, heavily, and visibility was poor. He kept his head tucked in as the Crone led him to the mast.
There she took his wrist and wiped the blood against the mast and then the deck. From the different color of the bone there, Tal guessed this ceremony had been done many times before. Milla did the same.
"Repeat these words after me," said the Crone, once more looking into Tal's eyes with her strange, luminous gaze. He nodded, licked his lips, and ate a snowflake by accident.
"I give my blood to the bone, bone of the ship," said the Crone.
"I give my blood to the bone, bone of the ship," repeated Tal and Milla. The Crone took his wrist and wiped it on the mast and the deck again. Milla followed.
"I give my blood to the Clan, Clan of my blood," said the Crone.
"I give my blood to the Clan, Clan of my blood," repeated Tal. The Crone took his wrist and forced it against Milla's upturned wrist, so their blood mingled. Milla looked away.
"I give my blood to the wind, blood to the ice," said the Crone, taking Tars hand and shaking it so a drop of blood was taken by the wind and carried overboard.
Milla shook hers at the same time, and by some freak of the wind, the drops of blood met. But only the Crone's eyes were sharp enough to see that happen.
"By bone of the ship and blood of the Clan, I will gain a Sunstone for the Clan of the Far-Raiders. May wind destroy me, and ice freeze me if I fail," said the Crone.
Both Tal and Milla repeated the words, with the Crone holding their wrists.
"Now you are bound together in this Quest," the Crone said with satisfaction. "And Tal, you are at least a little bit an Icecarl."
Milla muttered something that was lost in the wind. Tal looked at her and didn't see any sudden friendliness. They might be bound together for a quest, but he still didn't trust her and she obviously still hated him.
"Milla, show Tal where he can sleep and then prepare for your journey. The Castle lies beyond the Selski migration, and there is a gap ahead. You will have to cross it quickly."
"By sleigh?" asked Milla stiffly. "Surely the boy cannot skate or ski."
"You may have a sleigh and six Wreska," said the Crone. "Jorntil will ready them for you."
"Hold on," said Tal. "You mean it's just the two of us who are going? I thought the ship -"
"No," said the Crone. "We follow the Selski, who only know one path. That is our life, and we cannot break it except at direst need. Milla will safeguard you. She is an expert hunter, one of the best on the ice. Your greatest danger will be time, for the Selski teem in uncountable numbers. We call it the Living Sea and the gaps in their migration path are narrow. But I am sure you will get across."
She turned away before Tal could ask another question, leaving him standing there, next to Milla. She was looking at her wrist. Tal looked at his and saw that the blood had already dried. The pattern remained.
"Follow me," said Milla, and she crossed the snow-slippery deck and went back through the hatch. Tal followed more clumsily. The Crone had said to sleep, but he didn't know how he was going to do that.
At the hatch, he looked back up at the Sunstone, half-shrouded in the flurries of snow. He gripped his own Sunstone and thought about exactly how much trouble he was in.
He was incredibly far away from the Castle. In just two months, he had to have a new Primary Sunstone or else he could never be a proper Chosen, his whole future, the whole rest of his life lost. His mother he choked a little as he thought of her lying ill on her bed needed that Sunstone. So did Gref and Kusi. His father, if he was still alive, would be co
unting on him to look after everyone else.
He had just sworn some sort of oath that he didn't mean to keep, but couldn't help taking seriously. He'd mingled his blood with he didn't know what anymore, because they weren't
Underfolk - but a crazy girl with a natural shadow who wanted to kill him and was only stopped by tradition.
When he woke up in the morning, he would have to leave even the small comforts of the ship and head out across the ice with the crazy girl, to cross a living sea of animals.
It was all too much. Tal gulped and fought back the tears that were forming in his eyes. It's just the wind, he told himself, but he knew that wasn't true.
Then he saw the Crone again. She was standing near the mast. She looked at him and threw something. Tal ducked, but whatever it was hit the deck and then rolled toward him. Something dark, which he instinctively reached for.
His shadowguard flowed past his feet, taking on his form, just like a natural shadow, and spread down the steps behind him. Tal had to look over his shoulder to see it as he sighed with relief.
"I have spoken to it," said the Crone, her voice carrying across the deck. "No one should be without their shadow. But as long as you travel with Icecarls, it must only be a shadow. There is no place for uncertainty about such things on the ice."
Tal smiled and went below. His shadow preceded him, looking no different from any Icecarl's. Tal had no idea if the Crone had taken away its power to change shape and make itself more solid. He didn't care. He was too tired to think about it now. He was just glad to have it back.
"I will wake you at the turn of the glowjellies," said Milla as she showed him a pile of furs between two snoring boys about his own age. She hesitated, then said in quite a matter-of-fact tone, "I still wish to kill you, but I see that I cannot. Not now we are bound to the Quest. I will protect you on the ice, and we will reach your Castle and gain the Sunstone."
Two Sunstones,
Tal thought tiredly. He burrowed down in his furs. Everything had begun because he'd just wanted one sunstone. What was going to happen now that he needed two?
Beside him, his shadowguard suddenly turned into a tiny version of Sharrakor, the Shadowdragon. Milla saw it flicker out of the corner of her eye and whirled around.