by DawningStar
Part Two: Last Defense
When the warriors have gone to the battle, those left behind have a choice: to wait with decaying hope, or to prepare their own last defense. The wise choose the latter. Better to stand and fight at the end than to cower helpless before the storm.
--Emperor Diaz, Human leader of the Dragon Campaign era, in a speech to the noncombatants of Gloriano; record preserved in Ulara
The long miles passed beneath them in uneasy silence, Evergreen Forest trailing off to the even less familiar plains to the west. Pahlan had taken the lead, he being the only one who had ever left the forest before and thus had any semblance of knowledge of the territory. Rienna and Veria hung farthest back, but both bore grim, determined expressions proclaiming trouble for anyone who tried suggesting they needed to slow down.
A glimmer of reflected light became visible on the horizon, and Pahlan dropped back to fly beside Guaraha. "That'll be Deningrad," he reported, indicating it. "I've never been near it, but the crystal's unmistakable."
"All right." Guaraha raised his voice a bit. "We'll land and walk in once it's a little closer, before anyone sees us. No point asking for trouble. And don't forget--let's try not to offend anyone. As formal as possible, please." There was no response but silent nods, tense and subdued.
The city came more clearly into view within a few minutes, and they landed, the pulsing sound of their wings fading into a silence broken only by the somehow ominous crunch of gravel and grass underfoot. Guaraha began to walk, and the rest followed.
Deningrad bore obvious signs of the dragon's attack, huge boulders lying fragmented in the streets and splinters of crystal scattered everywhere. Some efforts at rebuilding had begun, rubble cleared and new walls taking shape, but it was clear that lifetimes would pass before the city regained the splendor still visible in what remained.
The Winglies' unusual clothes and coloring began to draw curious, not-altogether-friendly stares the moment they entered the city, and Guaraha felt his group pull together in self-conscious reaction. Halin's hand drifted toward his dagger, pausing only by effort of will.
Oddly, it was Veria, now walking just beside Guaraha, who seemed least affected by the strange surroundings and the large numbers of Humans. The girl focused solely on the glistening shards, her deep red eyes flicking about in avid interest. "It's a pity we've forgotten so much," she commented softly. "Our own fault we lost it all, of course, but--to be able to build something like that!" She nodded toward the spire of the Crystal Palace, still rising in sunlit splendor above the city despite the collapse of the highest points.
"Well, you'll get a chance to rebuild it, at least," Guaraha reminded. "I'm counting on you for most of the planning we'll need. If we're lucky."
On his other side, Halin made a faint noise of skepticism. "And Archangel help us if we're not," he muttered. "See those Humans?"
Guaraha glanced about. It was fairly obvious which particular Humans Halin meant, as three heavily armored knights were approaching at a quick rate, one with a red-plumed helmet evidently designating higher rank. "I see them," he agreed. "Let me handle this. Whatever you do, don't make them feel threatened." Though judging from Halin's knuckles, clenched white about his dagger, the Humans weren't the only ones feeling vulnerable.
The lead knight came to a halt just a few feet in front of Guaraha, a fist equally tight on his sword hilt. "Winglies, what is your purpose in Deningrad?" he demanded.
"We are from the Wingly Forest. We wish only to offer our help, and bring certain tidings of importance to your queen," Guaraha answered, with a polite bow. "May we request an audience with her?"
Hesitating, the Human traded a glance with his companions. "We have no proof that you do not intend to harm the queen," he pointed out curtly.
Guaraha spread his hands helplessly, startled at the near-accusation. "You have our word. If you will not accept that, I don't know what proof we can give."
One of the two subordinates stepped forward, murmuring something to the first, who gave a slight nod. The second knight marched away, toward the nearby entrance of the Crystal Palace.
"If you will wait a moment, the Second Sacred Sister Luanna may agree to hear you out," the commander of the knights said, his tone somewhat friendlier now. "I apologize for the unpleasantness. Recent events have made us overly cautious, perhaps, but better a little paranoia than regrets later."
"I quite understand," Guaraha assured him. "My name is Guaraha."
"I am Commander Travis of the Second Holy Knighthood," the Human responded, "charged with maintaining peace in the city after this catastrophe, and reporting to Sister Luanna." He studied the gathered Winglies for a moment. "If you don't mind my asking, I'd thought that the Winglies friendly to us preferred to remain in isolation?"
Guaraha hesitated. He had no wish to start a panic in the already heavily damaged city. "That is--being reconsidered. This is a Human world now, but we hope to find some place in it. For now, as a gesture of friendship, we came to help you rebuild the Crystal Palace."
The commander smiled. "I won't deny we were wondering how to manage that. The builders will welcome your help."
Just then, Guaraha caught the faint, almost slippery feeling of a touch on his mind. He turned, frowning, to glance at Veria, the only one with expertise to reach out like that--but the girl was staring wide-eyed in shock at the doors to the palace. But if it isn't her... he thought incredulously, and followed the gaze.
A dark-haired young woman made her way slowly down the steps, one hand resting tentatively on the shoulder of a shorter blonde girl. The reason for this support was evident as she approached, her eyes clouded and her stare vacant. Guaraha had never met a blind person before, but the signs were clear enough. It was equally clear from Veria's reaction that this Human, unbelievable as it seemed, was the source of the gentle probe.
"The Second Sacred Sister Luanna. The Fourth Sacred Sister Setie," Commander Travis announced, bowing to the telepath and the blonde respectively. "My ladies, the delegation from the Wingly Forest."
Luanna's unsettling regard swept over them for a moment more, then she nodded. "Welcome to Deningrad," she said. "I can take you to Queen Theresa." She turned slightly, in the general direction of the knights. "Commander Travis, thank you. Your soldiers may return to their duties now. These Winglies have no intention of hurting anyone."
The commander made a salute and promptly marched away, the knights following. Luanna smiled at Guaraha. "Your errand is one best discussed in private. If you will come with us?" And she gestured to the open door.
Guaraha attempted a bow and barely kept himself from overbalancing. "Ah--thank you, my lady." He glanced over his shoulder to gauge the reactions of his companions. Besides Veria, only Rienna and Kedim looked disconcerted; the rest had evidently noticed nothing amiss. Not surprising. Most Winglies scorned the mental arts as suitable only for those with no better powers to learn.
Generally hesitant to speak, Veria kept silence until the doors of the palace closed behind them, but no longer. "You're a telepath!" she accused the dark-haired Sacred Sister, in tones vibrating with utter disbelief. "But Humans can't do that!"
"I have met few who can," Luanna agreed, turning to peer curiously at Veria. "Is it a common gift among your people? The Wingly Lloyd was capable of stealing thoughts, and I noticed that several of you felt my probe."
Filing the unfamiliar name away for later inquiry, Guaraha explained, "It's latent in many Winglies, though not something we concentrate on, in general. Veria is the only one of us really able to do anything of the kind. Oddly, the talent has faded little over the years, though all other magic grows weaker--pure magic ability has no effect on aptitude."
Luanna nodded slowly. "Perhaps later you will have the opportunity to tell me more of this. But duty first. I feel a dark shadow of fear in your minds; what peril is terrible enough to bring you from your isolation when even the Divine Dragon did not do so?"
"One that endangers all the world, Humans and Winglies alike," he replied, and suppressed a shudder of dread. Meru, somewhere out there, fighting that threat... "A far distant Wingly community has contacted us with news of the Dragoons, who battle to prevent it even now. But if they should fail, we have no hope but to work together."
He felt that gentle brush again and knew that Luanna was verifying his truthfulness. "Queen Theresa must speak with you," she murmured, something in her voice mirroring the tension he felt. "Is it--likely that the Dragoons will fail?"
Guaraha could not make himself look into her unseeing yet intensely unsettling gaze. "I don't know," he whispered. "I pray they succeed. My fiancée is one of them."
Understanding touched her face. "Young Meru. She did not precisely tell us she was a Wingly, but I guessed...Miranda, the First Sacred Sister of Mille Seseau and my dear friend from childhood, is also a Dragoon. Let us all hope for their safe return." Luanna straightened slightly. "Come. The Queen will see you."
Guaraha sensed about Queen Theresa something of the same air that he had always associated with Ancestor Blano--an indefinable yet nearly overpowering dignity, possibly a necessity for a good leader of any species. It was this more than the rich velvet gowns and towering jeweled headpiece that made him kneel almost instinctively, in a gesture of respect older than the Forest.
"Your Majesty, may I present Guaraha, leader of the delegation from the Wingly Forest," Luanna said, an unerring hand extended toward him despite her lack of sight. At her request, he had told her the names and functions of all in the group while they walked, and she continued, "Veria, architect and historical expert. Rienna, coordinator and secondary architect. Pahlan Bardel, second in command and strongest of the magic users. Niama, Lanar, Halin, and Kedim, providing magic support. They are here to help us rebuild the Palace."
The queen smiled warmly at them all, standing to take several steps down the raised dais. "I am very pleased to meet you. The Crystal Palace has always been somewhat beyond our skill to repair--fortunate for us that it has never needed much maintenance until now."
Guaraha straightened, mildly pleased to note that his companions had also knelt. "We are unlikely to have skill enough to return the palace entirely to its original state, your Majesty," he admitted. "Much of our magic has faded over the years, and few remember the ancient technology at all. But we offer whatever assistance we can be."
"I thank you for that." Queen Theresa looked more seriously at him now. "I trust your intentions on Luanna's word and my own sense of your minds, but you must understand that many of the townspeople will be uneasy at your presence. It would perhaps be best if you stayed out of sight as much as possible."
"Certainly," Guaraha acquiesced. He hesitated, then gave in to curiosity. "If I may ask--I know of no recent interactions between our species save for Meru's presence and the Dragon Block Staff. Why this hostility?"
Luanna released a sigh. "Several weeks ago, the Third Sacred Sister, Wink, was attacked by a Wingly in the Evergreen Forest. A second Wingly saved her and killed the first, and was injured in the process; then when she brought him here for treatment he kidnapped the queen and teleported away to steal an ancient artifact of the realm. Some have said that this may be caused by an anti-Human conspiracy."
"The first attack may have been a renegade from our village," Guaraha said cautiously. "He became...irrational, after the death of his sister at the hands of Humans. Our deepest apologies if so." He did not dare to look at Pahlan. "I have no knowledge of this other. From an unknown Wingly community, possibly."
"It seems likely." The queen considered in silence, then looked up again. "First, Guaraha, we must find your group somewhere suitable to stay. I fear the palace is in no condition for guests at the moment." She glanced to the young blonde still supporting Luanna. "Setie, you have overseen much of the relocation process; please find room in one of the undamaged districts."
The younger Human, decorously silent before, gave a bright grin and gently guided Luanna to steady herself against the stairs. "All right," she said, in the blithe tones belonging only to the innocent and the very young. "Do one or two of you want to come with me? I don't know what you're used to or anything..."
"I'll go!" Niama volunteered instantly, shifting her bulky pack to a less awkward position. "Not like I can be much use discussing things anyway. Kedim, remember everything I need to know for me, all right?"
The boy heaved a put-upon sigh, but shrugged acquiescence. Guaraha smiled faintly. "Thank you, Niama."
"I will also come, if I may," Pahlan put in.
The tone was calm enough, but a slight tension of his jaw alerted Guaraha to the proud Wingly's uneasy state of mind. Doubts flickered in his thoughts for an endless fraction of a second; was it wise to let Pahlan go off into the Human town without supervision? Would this news of his brother's fate trigger a relapse of the old hatreds? Pahlan's suspicions of treachery were clear enough to Guaraha, though perhaps no one else had noticed the telltale tightness about his face.
But...Ancestor Blano had chosen Pahlan to come on this highly sensitive endeavor. Guaraha needed his help, both for his magical ability and for the respect Halin in particular accorded the elder Bardel. To show a lack of trust would undermine any chance Pahlan had at recovering. And, Guaraha acknowledged silently, I do trust him. He won't do anything that might make our mission fail.
The moment's indecision past, Guaraha nodded permission to his second-in-command and hoped no one had noticed his hesitation. The door swung shut behind the three.
The queen studied him intently for a moment. "Now, Guaraha...what is this danger you find so very important?"
He blinked in surprise. Luanna had dismissed all the guards and attendants from the room, but he had heard her say nothing to the queen. Still...with her undeniable if implausible skills, perhaps speech wasn't necessary. Dismissing the puzzle for the moment, Guaraha began, "The story goes back more than eleven thousand years, your Majesty..."
Pahlan began to regret his decision to accompany Niama almost before they reached the palace doors. This had nothing to do with Setie, who was, for a Human, quite pleasant. Nor had anything confirmed his suspicions of treachery. It was his Wingly companion's behavior that caused a distinct headache to begin forming just behind his eyes.
Niama was energetic and highly intelligent, with an inborn magical skill not to be dismissed and a youthful exuberance that came close to topping the absent Meru's. By years, she ought to be well out of the adolescent stage that had always irritated Pahlan; but Niama was determinedly immature. She was also an incorrigible chatterbox, and youthfully frivolous.
"I love your dress!" she half-squealed to Setie as they walked down the long staircase, a guard opening the heavy doors for them. "It's so bright. We haven't got any dyes like that in the Forest."
A hand darting instinctively to the brilliantly pink bows on the garment, Setie laughed. "Do you really? Miranda--she's the First Sacred Sister--she said it makes me look like a poisonous toadstool, but the Third Sacred Sister Wink gave it to me and she says I look nice in it."
"I think it's wonderful," Niama declared. "And I was wondering, how do people buy things around here? I promised to bring some presents home for my friends, especially new clothes."
"Is this really the right time to discuss clothes?" Pahlan demanded, eyeing the younger Wingly a little askance. I really should have stayed behind...anything that happens to Niama is no more than she deserves! he thought irritably.
Niama rolled her eyes expressively. "Clothes are important, Bardel," she said in a tone of forbearance. "Any time is right to discuss them."
There was a snort very like a repressed giggle from Setie. Pahlan shook his head in despair.
"But anyway--" Niama hesitated. "Ah--what do I call you? I mean, what's your title? Guaraha said we're all supposed to be as formal as possible. I think he's afraid of offending someone."
The Human grinned as a guard pulled the heavy doors open. "Just Setie. Please."
"Setie, then. Like Guaraha said, I'm Niama." The girl jerked a thumb back toward her older companion. "The grouch there is Pahlan Bardel."
Setie made a polite half-bow to Pahlan. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," he replied, inclining his head slightly and raising his estimation of the Human a notch. Young she might be, but she did have some knowledge of the proper formalities--unlike Niama.
Niama waited impatiently for the introduction to conclude, then continued, "So, Setie, you think there'd be anyone who'd trade with me? I brought some stuff," she waved a hand toward the bulging pack she carried, "mostly clothes, but some other things, too."
"Oh, I imagine you could find someone," Setie said thoughtfully. "Most of the merchants only trade in gold--easier to carry, you know--but they don't have the best clothes anyway. I'll introduce you to some of my friends. Lenita is probably somewhere around. She sews beautifully, and she's always interested in seeing new patterns and material."
Niama clapped her hands in excitement. "Great!"
"But later," Setie added, to Pahlan's relief. "You need somewhere to stay, first."
Their steps crunched audibly over the dust that coated the streets, a strange mixture of ordinary crumbled rock and the blue-green fragments of the palace crystal. The rubble grew noticeably less as the distance from the palace increased, however, until they reached a section of the city that scarcely seemed damaged at all, save for the occasional shattered window or missing shingle. The houses here were tall and imposing on either side of the broad street, but the people who came and went from their doorsteps, peering curiously at the strangers, were dressed no differently from the other citizens Pahlan had seen.
Setie waved cheerfully at the onlookers, and most of them smiled back at her and went about their business. "We're putting a lot of the people whose homes were worst damaged in the attack in this section for now," she explained. "Most of these houses used to belong to members of the extended royal family, but it's shrunk over the years, so there were a bunch empty. There are a few still not being used, and you can have whichever you prefer." She halted in front of a large house with sparkling crystalline ornamentation hung above the door, and lifted a polished metal knocker to send two thumps echoing through the house.
A young girl with brown hair pinned into a neat bun opened the door moments later. "Oh--Sacred Sister Setie!" she exclaimed, with a curtsy. "I'm so sorry, I didn't expect this one to be needed so soon--the dusting's only half done, and I haven't swept at all yet."
"I didn't know it was you here, Lenita," Setie remarked, blinking in mild surprise. "Don't worry about that, there's plenty of time. I'm just showing the house to our guests. They may be staying here."
The girl's gaze turned to the Winglies, and she curtsied again, though not as deeply. "Welcome, then. I'll be done soon," she added to Setie, and turned to snatch her dust-cloth from a nearby table and hurry away.
Looking after her ruefully, Setie commented to Niama, "That's Lenita, the one I mentioned. I'd introduce you now, but she'd consider it neglecting her duties. Sometimes I think she'd make a far better Sacred Sister than me."
"But where would all these terribly conscientious people be without a sense of humor?" Niama pointed out, with a teasing glance at Pahlan.
He shifted uncomfortably. "Somewhere to stay?" he reminded Setie.
The blonde waved a sweeping hand toward the double staircase and the multiple doors. "Have a look and see what you think. There are other houses if you don't like this one."
Niama scampered up the stairs at once, delightedly exploring every corner of the house. Pahlan opened a door at random and peered in, to find a room with a single bed that seemed disconcertingly large and flat--beds in the Forest tended to be curved against the interior walls of the trees--but serviceable enough. "As long as there is room for us all, this should be fine."
"This one's mine!" Niama called, bounding out of an upstairs door. "It's perfect!" She ducked back inside in excitement.
Setie edged a bit closer to Pahlan. "Is she always this...well...hyperactive?" the Human asked in a soft murmur.
With faint disapproval, Pahlan watched the young Wingly dart back and forth between rooms. "Most adolescents go through a similar stage," he informed Setie. "A few people become stuck there indefinitely."
The girl laughed, a pleasantly musical sound, and Pahlan was startled to feel his own lips curve into a smile in response. "I've noticed that myself," she agreed merrily. "And do you consider me an adolescent, Mr. Bardel?"
"Pahlan," he corrected absently--and froze. What had possessed him to allow a half-grown girl he had barely met, and a Human at that, to use his first name? For all the years he had known her, even Meru hadn't earned that privilege.
Vowing to keep a closer guard on his treacherous tongue, Pahlan continued hastily, "I know little about Human age, but you seem to have outgrown that stage, fortunately."
Setie smiled shyly up at him, a sweet, guileless expression that reminded him somehow of a happier time. "That's very nice of you to say, Pahlan."
Unnoticed for the moment, Niama speculatively inspected the pair from her position behind the upstairs railing. The difference between Winglies and Humans mattered to her only so far as the fact that Humans were unfamiliar and exciting; far more important, in her view, were the slightly foolish grins both Setie and Pahlan were giving one another. It was an expression she recognized from long experience.
Niama fancied herself a talented matchmaker, and in fact several of her friends were testimony to her skills--it was her intervention that had brought Lanar and Rienna together, though the couple would never have admitted it. And the way these two looked, she had an excellent chance of success...and an appealing challenge, considering it was Pahlan.
Her mind leaped instantly to consider possible courses of action. Subtle, she thought, a frown creasing her forehead, I'll have to be very subtle. I can't let either of them notice. Definitely they'd object, if they see what I'm doing.
Below, Setie said something too soft for Niama to hear and Pahlan reacted with a smile, almost a chuckle. That's the most unguarded I've ever seen him, Niama thought in wonder. Pahlan's long-ingrained prejudice would make this rather difficult, but if she managed it...
Setie may be just what he needs to recover.
The gentle thump of a closing door caught Niama's attention, and she looked over to find the Human girl Lenita leaving a room upstairs. Never one to lose an opportunity, Niama hurried after her. "Lenita! Setie tells me you like to sew..."
Veria peered intently at the scaled drawings the architects had brought, comparing the older diagrams with the sketches made since the dragon's attack. She poked a finger at the tallest spire, supported in the original plans by several delicate pillars and wholly missing now. "What was up there?" she asked of the two Human architects at the table with her.
"It was an ancient Wingly room," one replied nervously. The taller of the two, his hair was coal-black in stark contrast to his companion's nearly Wingly shade of pure white, evidently a sign of advanced age. "We called it the Chamber of the Seal for a legend of how it had been used in a ceremony to lock away some danger, and few people went there."
A sudden jolt of realization brought Veria half out of her seat in excitement, facts she had long studied falling into place at last. Of course! That's what it meant! The shape of the crystal--
And reality caught up with her, bringing her down with a thump. That top spire could do them very little good now, fallen and scattered across a square mile of Deningrad, the pillars standing alone at half their former height.
Veria sighed. "There's no way we can rebuild that, not if we had half a century. Pity...but..." She stared again at the sketch. "The throne room's nearly intact, and with a little patching..."
The younger Human cleared his throat. "Ah, Lady Veria, we don't quite follow what you're saying."
She glanced up in faint surprise. "I'm no lady. Call me Veria."
The Human looked away uncomfortably and didn't speak. Veria shook her head slightly and explained, "The crystal focuses and strengthens magic used from within it. That's why we came here--it's the only place where we might have a fighting chance against what's coming. The effects would have been especially strong in that spire. But if we change the shape of the crystal around the throne room, it may produce an effect nearly as strong."
"Magic," the older architect muttered with disapproval clear in his voice. "Don't like depending on something you can't see."
Veria nodded in rueful acknowledgement. "Nor do I, honestly. But we haven't any choice...normal weapons won't do us much good now."
"But you're a Wingly!" the first man blurted, and abruptly began to blush, a strong pink glow rising in his cheeks. "I--I mean, you can use magic."
"Some of us can," Veria corrected gently, taking pity on the Human's obvious embarrassment. "I barely have enough to fly, no more."
The older Human lifted a hand in protest. "Then how do you know you can control this new power?"
Veria smiled at him. "I trust my friends to do it. And besides--if you have another plan, I'd like to hear it. I'm not altogether fond of this one myself."
"I prefer to leave wars to warriors." But he shrugged. "Still, you're right. We haven't any choice."
The younger man leaned forward and grinned. "We're expected to be the ones saving the day, for once. And to rebuild the Palace. How often do architects get that kind of chance? I'm not losing it." His hazel eyes met Veria's dark crimson, firm in determination. "My name is Peter. This is Stephen. It's a pleasure to meet you, Veria."
Stephen cleared his throat gruffly, and nodded to her in acknowledgement. "Well, what are we waiting for? Lots to get done."
"Right," Veria agreed, and touched the drawing again, her sight going distant for a moment. "We need to find how much support will be necessary to hold the structural integrity here..."
Somehow, it rather felt as though the room had lost its winter chill.
The collapse of the Crystal Palace's tallest spire had left fragments scattered throughout the city, but already many of the larger pieces had been collected in a storehouse not far from the Palace. Those in charge of the cleanup had been uncertain whether anything could be done to repair the damaged building, but someone had decided that if they were to try they would need as much material as possible.
Looking at the gathered crystal, Rienna was intensely grateful to the anonymous Human overseer. Finding and carrying this much would have taken them days, even with Lanar's experimental spells to help, and time was of the essence now.
Rienna slipped a hand into her husband's and looked up at him with a smile. "Can your spell manage these, do you think?"
He nodded, eyes darting over the shards in evaluation. "It should only take two of us to lift each--maybe three for the largest. And then you and Veria can seal them in place."
"With a little assistance from someone else, maybe," she amended. "Veria's books and Caron both said it doesn't take much power, but the ancients worked on a different scale than we do."
Lanar squeezed her hand briefly and let go, leaning over the blue-green crystal to examine it more closely. "Sharp," he noted, a finger hovering above one razor-like edge. "We need to be careful not to get cut. Didn't Caron mention something about side effects?"
"If any crystal actually gets into the bloodstream, yes. A temporary increase in magic power, followed by a day or two of exhaustion and illness and increased risk of blood loss from any injury."
"Not worth it," Halin said. The short Wingly was leaning against the doorframe of the warehouse in a determinedly nonchalant manner, eyeing the Human who had accompanied them with a caution that belied the effort. "Increase of power is good, but that's too high a price."
Rienna nodded. "The ancients felt the same way, evidently. Crystal-workers were always careful to dull the edges before the work was considered complete. The long-term exposure wasn't so harmful, however--it tended to increase power levels very slowly, without any of the side effects. That's why the Birth City was built of the stuff."
With a grimace, Lanar turned away from the pile of crystal. "Much as I admire their work, I wouldn't have wanted to live back then," he muttered.
A shiver went up Rienna's spine. No, as much as Prado and the Bardels would have liked to have them all believe so, the height of the Wingly empire had been no credit to their species. The breathtakingly lovely palace that now might be their last chance at survival had, according to Veria's research, been built solely for the purpose of winnowing through the newborn Winglies and killing those who did not come up to standards of magical ability.
In one corner, the Human commander shifted, drawing attention to himself. "Several of our soldiers have been cut rather badly trying to move the sharper pieces away from civilian homes," Commander Travis offered. "We didn't notice any illness. Perhaps this only affects Winglies?"
"That's possible," Rienna nodded. "Our records are patchy at best--they don't say much about Humans--but it would make sense. Veria's theory is that the illness is caused by conflicting magical resonance, and most Humans wouldn't have anything for the crystal to resonate with." Once, she wouldn't have qualified the statement, but that was before she had met the Dragoons, or seen Luanna's bewildering gift.
Lanar was moving around the pile, fingers flicking in old habit as he counted. "There should be enough," he decided at last. "If Veria doesn't go overboard--and she knows what she's doing, so I don't expect she will--there's enough here to do most of the patching and reshaping, even if we mess up once or twice."
"Does the crystal need to be moved closer, so we can start work as soon as Veria's done with her plans?" Halin asked.
With a considering frown, Lanar glanced out the door over the short distance to the Palace, lips moving in what Rienna recognized as silent calculations. "No, this is close enough. If we were much closer, there's too much risk of running into something before we could get the crystal to the right height."
Rienna looked briefly between the crystal and the Palace, her brow furrowing. She didn't have Lanar's gift for judging distances or trajectories, but she hoped he wasn't overestimating the length of time they would be able to sustain the spell. After all, we've never tested it, she added, taking care to form the thought very clearly in her mind as she took a step closer to her husband.
Lanar blinked, his gaze turning momentarily toward her in silent acknowledgement, then said, "But, Halin, don't let me forget I need to have us all try the spell once or twice before Veria finishes. So we don't waste time."
Satisfied, Rienna let her concentration fade. Lanar wasn't particularly talented telepathically, but he was attuned to her own mind, and Veria had given her a few tips on thought transference. It came in handy from time to time, since Lanar hated to be publicly corrected, and Rienna had an equal dislike of drawing attention to herself.
"We could go ahead and try that, then," Halin suggested. "There isn't much else to do."
"All right," Lanar agreed, turning to Commander Travis for his input. "If that's all right, Commander...?"
The Human shrugged. "I trust you'll be careful, so there shouldn't be any problem with it. Shall I leave?"
Lanar hesitated for a moment, and Rienna knew that he wanted to ask her to leave as well, but was half-afraid of offending her. She grinned at her husband in wordless understanding and said, "Yes, Commander, just as well if the two of us get out of the way. I expect they'll need to concentrate."
"Right," he said with poorly concealed relief, and ducked out the door. Rienna followed quickly; behind her, she could already feel Lanar beginning to gather his magic in preparation for the spell.
Once she judged they were a safe distance away from any possible backlash of magic or broken crystal, Rienna stopped walking and smiled at the Human commander. "I wanted to thank you for not jumping to conclusions when we entered the city, Commander. That must've been hard, with what had happened."
He returned the smile, and Rienna thought it was rather astonishing how the friendly expression warmed a face that had obviously seen its share of battles. "Well, we're trained never to provoke hostilities. And I've never much liked the conspiracy theories. If I believed every rumor floating the city I'd never be able to sleep for fear some disaster or another was coming."
Rienna laughed. "Rumors spread quickly in the Forest, too--though on somewhat different subjects. Marriages and engagements mostly. I can't remember how many times now someone's told me Niama had finally gotten engaged...all mistaken, of course."
"She's the girl who went with the Fourth Sacred Sister, isn't she?" Commander Travis said, peering into the distance. "Because if I'm not mistaken, Sister Setie's coming back now. You can see her a mile off, she loves that pink-and-white dress."
Rienna turned to follow his gaze. "Oh, good, are they finished? Bardel and Niama will both need to try my husband's spell, too, and I expect Veria is working as fast as she can, so we may not have a lot of extra time."
The bright pink that Commander Travis had pointed out was approaching from a wide street just across the open square from the warehouse, both of which were located in back of the Crystal Palace; the paving stones were cracked and broken from the impact of the crystal above, but the rubble had been completely cleared away. Rienna saw the pale gray-blue color of most forest-woven Wingly clothes beside Setie--but only one. Concerned, she led the way to meet them.
It was Pahlan Bardel beside the Fourth Sacred Sister, and he looked rather more relaxed than was usual, which relieved most of Rienna's worries. Nothing could possibly have happened to Niama if the paranoid Pahlan wasn't concerned about it. She waved at the pair, and Setie waved cheerfully back, turning to make her way toward them. "What's up?" she called.
"Lanar, Halin and I were checking out the recovered crystal," Rienna replied. "They're still back there--making sure Lanar's spell will actually work. Veria is in the Palace, with a couple of architects, to figure out what we're doing. Guaraha is still speaking with Queen Theresa and Sister Luanna--diplomatic-type stuff, I'm sure--and Kedim stayed with him. You found a house for us?"
Pahlan nodded. "Not what we're used to, of course, but rather more luxurious. Niama loves it. She stayed behind for a bit--something about having found someone who makes clothes..." He rolled his eyes, making his opinion of Niama's incessant frivolousness quite clear.
Rienna grinned, but something about the older Wingly's face tugged at her mind for a moment. "Niama would. Lanar will probably want you to go try out his spell, too," she added. "So we don't waste time."
"Yes, that makes sense," Bardel agreed, and Rienna watched in shock as he turned to the Fourth Sacred Sister and smiled warmly at her. "I'll see you later, then, Setie..."
But the Human shook her head slightly. "No, first, I'd really like it if you and Rienna could meet Sister Wink. She's just right there, it won't take long, and she'll like seeing you." Setie indicated a double-story house nearby. "She's still recovering, so she can't get out much, and I don't have time to visit as much as I'd like."
Bardel shifted uneasily. "The Third Sacred Sister? I don't think..."
"Oh, come on, Pahlan," Setie insisted, and Rienna raised a startled eyebrow at the Human's use of the proud Wingly's first name. That Bardel made no protest, either, had to mean that he'd given her leave--Rienna couldn't remember the last time either Bardel had done that since their sister's death. And to a Human?
"Setie, there's something I need to tell you first," Bardel warned. "I wasn't sure it was the right time to mention it before--but now..." He let out a troubled sigh, glanced to Rienna as though for support. "The renegade who attacked the Third Sacred Sister was almost definitely my brother, Sacan Bardel."
A cloud darkened the Human's bright blue eyes, as she gazed at Pahlan; Rienna saw it and winced slightly in sympathy for the Wingly. "Oh," Setie said, and something indefinable had changed in her voice. "Oh."
Pahlan looked away and continued rapidly, "So you understand it might not be a good idea for her to see me, especially if she's still recovering. It would probably upset her."
But Setie's mind had evidently gone on a different train of thought, because she murmured, "Then--it must be your sister, too, who Guaraha said was killed by Humans. Pahlan, I'm so sorry. It was...very kind of you to come to help us. I didn't realize how difficult this must be for you."
"Well," Bardel said gruffly. "I...cannot hate your race for the actions of a few criminals. But, Setie, I really shouldn't meet the Third Sacred Sister just yet."
Setie shook her head. "Wink isn't one to hold grudges, Pahlan. I didn't tell you how she was wounded, did I?"
He blinked, half-turning toward her again. "But I thought--my brother--"
"No, he never hurt her, she was rescued too quickly. This other, Lloyd? He kidnapped Queen Theresa, betrayed us all, stole an ancient heirloom of Mille Seseau, and battled the Dragoons...and just as Mr. Dart was about to win, Wink jumped in front of Lloyd. Saved his life. Took a pretty bad slash from Mr. Dart's sword...he wasn't quite able to stop in time." She grinned at him. "Wink believes the best of people. Miranda thinks it's foolish of her, but I've always admired her trust."
Pahlan stood silent, his face clearly showing his struggle to take all this in. Setie continued, to he and Rienna both, "So will you come and meet her?"
Her decision had been made already, when she'd seen the look in Pahlan Bardel's long-hardened eyes. "Perhaps later, Sister Setie. I need to see how Veria's work is coming, first. She'll have to know what we found here."
Commander Travis opened his mouth as though to object. Rienna managed to locate his boot, and unobtrusively stepped on it--not hard enough to hurt, but the Human commander got her point and said nothing.
"If you're sure, then," Setie said, with a polite nod, and tugged Pahlan after her toward the house she had indicated. Rienna watched them go with a faint smile, and a hope she didn't quite dare to put into words, even silently...
"What was that for?" the commander asked her, tone just a bit pained. "I was only going to say that the architects with her already know how much crystal there is to work with. Can you please move your foot?"
Rienna realized she was still crushing the Human's toes and complied at once, embarrassed at forgetting. "Sorry, Commander. I just...kind of want them to be by themselves for a bit."
He looked after the pair, the door now closing quietly behind them. "I'm not sure I understand."
"Neither am I," she admitted, with a wry shrug. "But..." She hesitated, and at the commander's inquiring glance summoned her earlier intuition in an attempt to explain her actions.
The vague feeling still refused to come clear, however, and Rienna could only shake her head at the Human. "It's only that--I've never seen Bardel care that much about what someone thinks of him before..."
The Third Sacred Sister lay propped on her side in a large bed on the well-lighted upper room of the house, pale blonde hair scattered across the white linen in disarray, and it was apparent from her awkward position that she was in some pain. She looked up at the sound of the door, however, and her crystal-blue eyes were alert. "Setie! It's good to see you!" she said happily. "Any chance you can braid my hair again? Felicia washed it this morning, but she never has time to braid it for me, and it just doesn't feel right this way." Then her gaze turned to Pahlan, and she frowned slightly.
"This is Pahlan Bardel," Setie introduced quickly. "He's with the envoy from the Wingly Forest--I'm sure you've heard."
"Oh--yes, of course," Wink nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bardel." She attempted a half-bow from the bed, but her eyes stayed on him, faint puzzlement trying to find a reason for recognition.
He returned the bow and shifted uneasily, meeting that clear blue gaze only with difficulty. "The pleasure is mine, Sister Wink. However, I find I must extend you our deepest apologies for the incident in the Evergreen Forest...the community's apologies, and my own. Sacan Bardel, who attacked you, was my brother."
Wink nodded in sudden understanding. "I thought you looked familiar...you needn't apologize, Mr. Bardel. I don't hold you or your people responsible in any way. And I do regret your brother's death...please believe that if there had been a chance, I would have done all I could to prevent it."
"I believe you," Pahlan said, and found rather to his surprise that he did. Seeing the indirect cause of Sacan's death had not triggered the bitterness that he had half expected; this young Human woman, injured and defenseless, touched his long-guarded heart almost as Tiala's innocence had once done.
Sacan must have been utterly beyond hope, if he attacked her... "Call me Pahlan. No need for formality." Setie already had permission to use his name; giving it to Wink seemed only fair.
Setie took a seat on Wink's bed, careful not to jar it, gathering the loose strands of hair with a practiced touch. She gestured toward a seat facing the bed with a brief smile at Pahlan. "Sit down. I'm terribly curious...if it isn't impolite to ask, can you tell us about your Forest?"
A little uncertain, Pahlan settled into the cushioned bench. "If you like. It's not a large population anymore..." he began, watching Setie's expression for signs that she was becoming bored.
Peculiarly, she looked honestly interested, and with a glance to assure himself that Wink was also not averse to his continuing, Pahlan began to relax. A stray thought slipped by unnoticed: I rather like talking with Setie...
Guaraha sank gingerly onto the wide bed in his room, and let out a sigh, releasing some measure of the tension that had kept him tightly wound for hours. It was going well--better than he'd ever expected, in fact. Lanar reported that there was plenty of crystal and they would be able to move it easily enough. Pahlan and Setie had found this house for the group to rest in. Veria and the Humans helping her had sent word that they expected to have the first stages of construction ready to begin by the next morning. And most importantly, the Humans had accepted their assistance.
It had been a little difficult, telling Queen Theresa and Luanna certain truths about matters that touched closely on an ancient and well-respected religion. Kedim had shown an unexpected touch for diplomacy, pointing out that the Divine Tree was not in fact what was trying to harm them; rather, only one fruit held the danger, much as most of the other species had battled at one point or another.
I need to stop judging Kedim based on his choice of friends, Guaraha thought with a small smile. The fact that the boy tended to associate almost exclusively with Niama meant that most people in the Forest considered him to be much like her: impulsive and not given to much thought. But Kedim's speech to the Humans--there was no other word for it--rather effectively forced Guaraha to reevaluate the younger Wingly.
What was it he said? '...If it is in fact fate that the world end, nothing that we do can possibly make things any worse, for our time is over and our feeble attempts will change nothing. But if we do have a chance at delaying or stopping such an end, as seems likely, then it is a terrible crime against the Divine Tree and life of every kind not to try...'
Guaraha shook his head slightly in bemused wonder at the memory. The boy may well have a promising future as a public speaker. Who would have guessed?
I wonder if Niama knows how good he is at this kind of thing. Come to that, I wonder if the Ancestor knew. I wouldn't put it past him.
A tap on the door interrupted his musings, and Guaraha stood to open it, faintly startled to find Pahlan there. "What is it?" he asked the older Wingly.
Pahlan looked at him with a peculiarly uncertain expression for one normally so sure of himself. "I don't know," he admitted, laying a hand on the doorframe. "Something feels...wrong."
"Something here?" Guaraha probed. Pahlan, with his higher level of magic, was unusually sensitive to changes in the atmosphere that meant a spell was beginning to give way or take effect--he had proved that many times in the Forest. It was hard to see what he could be sensing now, though...there shouldn't be any spells active in Deningrad.
"No, not here," Pahlan said slowly. "Nowhere nearby. I don't think I would have felt this in the Forest, too many Winglies using small spells constantly, the short-range teleporters...but the crystal here focuses things..." He trailed off.
Guaraha frowned. "It's not from the Forest, then?" he asked.
Pahlan opened his mouth to respond--and abruptly winced. An instant later Guaraha felt it too, a pressure building within the area of his mind that he tapped to fly and for other spells at need, unmistakably familiar this time as it had not been twice before, building to an unbearable strain--
--and without warning it broke, leaving Guaraha gasping slightly and gone pale for reasons that had nothing to do with the physical effects. No. No. It can't mean that, don't let it mean that!
He sprinted to the room's wide window, throwing it open without regard for the delicacy of the glass panes, and stared outward at the deceptively serene moon hanging low in the blood-red evening sky. Had that been a flicker of light, somewhere to the north?
A light touch made itself known on his shoulder, Pahlan offering a hesitant gesture of comfort. "It's only the third," he said softly. "There's one left--Mayfil, probably, from the direction this one was the Signet Sphere in Zenebatos."
"Meru," Guaraha rasped, and did not bother to hide the terrible fear in his eyes as he turned to face the other. "They would have been there, fighting...and they failed. Does it mean--?"
Pahlan hesitated, searching for the right words, but at last could only shake his head. "It--it's possible, Guaraha. But...you'd know, wouldn't you, if she was--if anything happened to her?"
He turned away, gazing desperately to the distance in a futile attempt to touch the mind he'd once known better than any other. It was common in the Wingly Forest for engaged or married couples to have a sense of one another's well-being at the least, but of course no one had ever had a chance to test it across much distance, and the years apart had weakened his connection to Meru.
I didn't even know it was her when she came back through the portal...would I sense anything now, if she had--had died?
"I don't know," he whispered, and the admission tore deeper at his aching heart.
Notes: This fic seems to be focusing rather heavily on Wingly telepathy at this point, so I figure I'd better give my reasoning on that. There are three different points in the game where we are given evidence as to Wingly mental powers.
First, entering Kadessa, Meru's reaction to the arena and the deaths which took place there: this could be argued away as just a sort of racial guilt on her part, but you'd think she'd have collapsed before then--it isn't like she didn't know what happened there. Something else had to trigger that.
Second, in the Crystal Palace, Luanna specifically says that Lloyd is reading Queen Theresa's mind. Evidence enough there that, when well-trained, Winglies can actually get information from others mentally against their will. This point brings up Luanna and Queen Theresa as well, of course...but my theories on that are probably best left till next chapter.
Third, Meru again, this time saying that she can feel the presence of the people in Ulara. Meru never seems to be especially powerful in terms of the flashier magic, thus my assumption that telepathy isn't dependent on strength.
All of this is my own opinion, of course, and if you have another or some evidence I missed I'd love to hear it!
As usual, if you see anything wrong with this fic please let me know so I can fix it. I'm afraid this chapter doesn't quite meet the standard of the first, but I don't know how to make it better...Chapter Three I don't expect to finish for quite a while, but please be patient with me. I'm actually writing this at an incredible pace compared to anything I've done before!
Many thanks to Amanda Swiftgold, Aerena, Omni Dragon, and Sors for reviewing the first chapter!
~*~DawningStar
