by DawningStar
Part Three: Wingly Pride
Clear your eyes and look:
beneath the crystal, bones lie rotting...
the innocents, murdered for useless conceit.
In this all races are equal:
no more Humans die at our hands
than we slaughter of our own children.
And is this then the pride of the Winglies:
death, murder, and blood?
No empire stands long on such foundation.
--renegade Wingly poet known as Crystal Shard, of the Dragon Campaign era; record preserved in Ulara
"That's good, that's good--hold it there!" Veria called, glowing wings lifting her lightly to the seam between the part of the Palace that still stood and the fragment Lanar and Halin held up by magic. Rienna was already there, her fingers splayed over the join, eyes closed, and Kedim hovered just behind her in support, calling on his own reserves of magic to add to the power surrounding the girl.
Rienna absorbed the added energy easily, redirecting it through her hands and into the crystal. With a final flare of light from the vanishing crack, there was no longer any visible difference between the two sections. "Check it!" she advised Veria.
A swift probe of the crystal assured the younger Wingly that the seal was good, and she waved an all-clear to the pair waiting below. The tingling sense of magic faded as Lanar and Halin stepped back; they stood ready to renew the spell for a tense moment, then relaxed as the newly placed segment showed no sign of separating.
Veria landed again at the base of the crystal wall, and closed off the power to her wings, the pulsing noise they made vanishing along with the glimmering light. Rienna and Kedim followed suit. Both Lanar and Halin were gasping slightly from their exertion, and Veria noted that Rienna was also breathing heavily. Kedim wasn't, yet, being the youngest of the four working and also assigned to the task that took the least concentration.
"We're taking a break for now," Veria directed. "Niama, you take over for Halin on the next segment."
Standing near Guaraha, Niama nodded her understanding. Halin scowled darkly and half-opened his mouth in protest, but with a glance at Guaraha evidently thought better of it. The group leader had announced in no uncertain terms that while the construction went on, everyone was to listen to Veria, Rienna, and the Human architects without complaint.
Which was making Veria more than a little nervous, as it placed more responsibility on her than she had ever before dealt with; both Rienna and the Humans were showing a disturbing tendency to look to her. She supposed it was understandable, since they were working mostly from her plans to rebuild the Palace, but still...
"That's two-thirds of the primary segments completed," Peter, the younger of the two Human architects, was reporting to Guaraha as Veria rejoined the bystanders at a safe distance from the path of the crystal shards. He held a sheaf of roughly sketched plans, the best the three of them had managed in the limited time available. "If we can finish the others today, too, we'll be well on schedule for the secondary segments tomorrow."
Veria nodded in agreement. "The secondaries will go faster," she told Guaraha. "They're smaller--easier to lift."
The leader grinned. "Whatever you say, Veria...you know I don't understand a thing about it." But he looked over to where Lanar and Rienna stood discussing the next crystal, and the smile faded. "Veria, are you sure Lanar and Rienna can keep working like this? They look awfully tired..."
She shrugged helplessly. "Niama doesn't have enough grasp on her strength to lift without a guide, and Halin isn't familiar enough with the spell yet; and Rienna's the only one who can do the sealing. I tried, but I don't have her gift for using someone else's strength, and I'd never manage alone."
Guaraha nodded, resignation in his face. "I suppose so. I've tried combining strengths, too, I never was any good at it. Just make sure no one collapses."
"I'll watch them," she promised. "They all want to do their best. They know time's running out..." Her gaze darted involuntarily to the Moon, looming ominously low in the cloud-swept sky. "But I'll try to make sure no one pushes too hard."
"All we can do, I suppose." A sigh of frustration escaped the older Wingly. "Veria, are you feeling, just a little, like you're completely useless here?"
She flicked a lock of silvery hair back and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm in charge here, Guaraha. All I can do is wander around telling people things they already know. Of course I'm feeling useless."
"Oh, good." He offered her a faint, lopsided smile. "I didn't want to be the only one."
Veria snorted slightly. "Has Bardel come back yet?" she asked.
"No, not yet." Guaraha looked toward the open doors of the Palace. Pahlan Bardel, the strongest magic-user among them, had gone to estimate just how much of a power boost they could expect from the crystal's focusing effects. "It shouldn't take him too much longer, though."
"All right." Veria paused for a moment, considering how to word her next question. "It occurred to me," she said at last, slowly, "once we have some idea how much help this is going to be, we need to send someone back to the Forest to report, and get things ready...just in case."
Guaraha looked at her, expression thoughtful. "You're right," he agreed. "Time's going to be close here, working from a worst-case scenario, and we can't afford to be optimistic." His crimson eyes went distant.
Veria winced. She hadn't wanted to cause the other any more pain by reminding him of Meru's uncertain plight, but perhaps there hadn't been any way around it.
His attention returned quickly, however, and he continued, "Who would you suggest sending?"
"Well--Bardel is the fastest," she pointed out. "We need Rienna and Lanar here for sure, and Kedim and Niama are proving to be very useful--Rienna says it's much easier when one of them is helping her, they're young and not so reluctant to release control to her. Halin's a possibility, but he doesn't have as much grasp on the specifics as Bardel does."
"True." Guaraha glanced toward the Palace doors again. "Odd...I expected Pahlan to be back by now. Testing shouldn't take him this long."
"Maybe he got distracted," Niama put in, a sly grin curving her lip as she glanced at Veria conspiratorially. Veria, with a certain amount of effort, controlled her giggle.
An edge of skepticism touched his voice. "I can't see much distracting Pahlan. If we'd sent you, now, Niama, I might believe it."
Niama snorted, very softly. "Guaraha, you ought to pay more attention to things. I expected better from you. And you the one who knows Bardel best, too."
"I don't believe in listening to gossip and rumors," Guaraha countered, tone lofty, but the quirk of his lip told Veria the other girl had succeeded in pulling his mind away from darker imaginings.
Grinning more openly, Niama inquired pertly, "What, even when they're true?"
"Especially when they're true," Guaraha informed her. "It's more polite. And that is how we're supposed to behave. Polite? Formal? Am I the only one who remembers this?"
She flapped a nonchalant hand at him. "Oh, nonsense. Formality is for people you don't know. We're all friends here." Niama turned to Peter for support. "Isn't that right?"
The young architect attempted to look solemn, with dubious success. "Certainly it is, Lady Niama," he agreed, and bowed. The posture almost hid his half-swallowed laughter.
Stephen, the elderly Human architect, gave a gentle snort. "You youngsters and your jokes," he said tolerantly. "Some things never change, I suppose...oh, Veria, I think Lanar and Rienna are starting again."
Startled, she looked over. Rienna had already lit her wings, rising to prepare for the placement of the next fragment. "I meant a bit longer break than that," she muttered, but activated her own wings in resignation. "Talk to you later, Guaraha. Stephen, Peter, yell at me if the crystal starts going off course. Everything's marked, but I don't want to have to redo any of these!"
Peter nodded fervent agreement. Once already a fragment had been sealed into place just the slightest bit off center, requiring extra effort on everyone's part to get it loose again and repeat the job correctly.
As he watched Veria and Niama return to their task, Guaraha allowed his smile to widen a bit. It was the only bright spot in this entire business, really, the way everyone was working together, forming friendships. Veria and the Human architects Peter and Stephen. Rienna and Commander Travis. Niama and...well...just about everyone, actually.
And then there's Pahlan... Despite his retort to Niama, Guaraha knew very well the rumors and gossip that flew through the Palace about the older Wingly: specifically, concerning his relationship with Fourth Sacred Sister Setie. The only people who didn't seem to recognize that the two were falling for one another were Pahlan and Setie themselves.
Reactions to this were numerous, some echoing Niama's 'aww, isn't that sweet,' others watching with guarded suspicion. Guaraha had been pleasantly surprised that none of the Humans outright condemned the possibility of such a relationship; the harshest criticism from the citizens of Deningrad so far had been a warning that 'the Wingly better not upset our Setie'.
From the Wingly side, however... Guaraha sighed quietly, his gaze resting for a moment on Halin. The adolescent was standing near Lanar and Niama, arms folded, as though waiting for one of them to fail in lifting the current shard. He'd expressed his feelings on the matter in no uncertain terms--though, showing a surprising discretion, not where it could be overheard. A taint on our blood and a disgrace...an outrage...an offense against the ancient wisdom and power of the Wingly people...
Everything, in fact, that Guaraha could clearly remember Pahlan himself saying about Meru's friendship with the Humans. Astonishing how much a few short weeks had changed the elder Bardel, and meeting Humans who contradicted what he had always believed about the species. It was rather a pity that Halin couldn't see the same thing.
"Here comes Mr. Bardel, Guaraha," Peter called, pulling the Wingly from his thoughts. Laughter touched the young Human's voice. "I think you may owe Niama an apology."
Guaraha looked up, and had to grin at the sight. Pahlan was coming toward them, sure enough, and just beside him walked Sister Setie, Human hand lightly clasped in Wingly. "I probably do," he admitted. "Pahlan looks distracted, all right..." He raised his voice to call, "What's the report?"
"It looks good," Pahlan replied, quickening his stride to close the distance. "The focus is even better than I'd hoped. Give it another few angles and me a couple of days to learn it, and then to instruct the people using it, and we may have some chance after all."
Pahlan, Guaraha decided, was either stretching the truth so as not to upset Setie, or else had undergone a highly disturbing shift in character. It had never been like the older Wingly to be optimistic about much of anything. Then again, believing that we have no chance of doing any good here would have about the same effect as believing that there's nothing to worry about, wouldn't it? We would lose whatever chance we might have... Maybe Pahlan had a point after all.
But speculating on the relative merits of optimism could wait. Guaraha considered for a moment. "You and Halin spent some time talking about the theory here, didn't you? Would you say he knows enough to carry a report back?"
Pahlan nodded. "I'm not sure anyone but Veria really understands the whole thing, but Halin's got a good grasp of our progress so far. Thinking of sending him for help, are you?"
"Something like that, yes," Guaraha agreed. "We're going to need more people--more magic than anyone in the Forest can manage, I'm afraid."
Setie cleared her throat and said tentatively, "What about Caron?"
Guaraha blinked, and stared at the Human for a long moment as his mind sorted through the various implications of the suggestion. He looked up at Pahlan. "I'm an idiot," he announced mildly.
The older Wingly grinned. "If you are, I am, too," he said. "I'd totally forgotten about Charle's people in Ulara. Do you think they'd help?"
"I don't see why not. They're the ones who've been fighting this thing longest, after all...well thought, Setie." Guaraha smiled at the Fourth Sacred Sister. "It's a good thing someone around here can remember more than their own name."
She offered a smile in response, and Guaraha noted but chose not to comment on the quick squeeze Pahlan gave her delicate hand.
"Is that settled, then?" Pahlan asked. "Halin carries the news back to the Forest, and gets together as much help as he can find from there and Ulara?"
Guaraha nodded. "I'll ask him if he'll do it, of course, but it looks like our best plan."
Above, a bright flare indicated another seal complete, and Rienna called again, "Check it!" while Peter and Stephen compared their sketches to the newest addition in silent approval.
"Go and ask him, then," Pahlan advised. "He's not doing anything, and I expect he'll be stepping in again as soon as Veria thinks Niama's getting tired."
"Good point." Guaraha looked over at the young Wingly's openly arrogant stance, and suppressed a sigh. Aside from the necessities of getting news back to the Forest, it might well be a good idea for Halin just to be out of the way for a little while. Not, of course, that he would mention that point. "I'll, ah, be back in a few minutes."
Halin did not deign to turn his gaze from the next segment's placing as Guaraha approached. The boy's silver-white hair ruffled slightly in the chill wind, and his tone hovered on the far edge of respect as he muttered, "What do you want?"
Guaraha folded his arms in what felt to him like a horribly transparent attempt at nonchalance, and as Halin refused to look at him, he joined the boy in studying the ongoing work. "I'm told you know more about the theory we're using than anyone but Veria. Someone needs to report our progress to Ancestor Blano and bring more help from the Forest, and you seem to be the best choice."
An involuntary hiss escaped Halin, and he spun toward Guaraha, who chose not to meet his angry glare. "You just want me out of the way," he accused. "Guaraha, why can't you see that this diversion of Bardel's will only bring ruin? Send him--separate him from the Human girl!"
"So long as the Humans do not object, what Pahlan and Setie choose is their own business and none of mine," Guaraha reminded him. "Nor is it your business, or anyone else in the Forest, any more than my engagement with Meru, or Rienna and Lanar's marriage."
"But she's Human!" Halin burst out. "You can't possibly allow--"
"I am not allowing anything," Guaraha cut him off, tone low and guarded. He hoped no one had heard that last... "I have better manners than to interfere with something that is entirely between Pahlan and Setie and her family. I had hoped you did, too."
Halin spun away, a growl clearly audible to Guaraha. "So you're sending me away instead."
Guaraha shook his head. "The rebuilding needs Pahlan's magic, Rienna's skill, Veria's knowledge, and Lanar's experience--and surely you don't suggest sending Niama or Kedim! You're my only choice, Halin. This has to be done."
"Fine," he muttered. "Fine. I'll go. Report progress, bring back help...sure. I'll leave now, even." He looked up, his bright crimson eyes catching Guaraha with their unbridled fury, one hand upraised in warning that came barely short of violence. "But you're going to be sorry about this, and so are they. See if you're not."
The words hung stark in the air for a long moment, then Halin stalked off in the general direction of their borrowed housing. Guaraha watched him go, a troubled frown creasing his forehead. Sorry, he thought wryly. I've been sorry ever since I accepted the whole job...
The trees fell behind Halin's headlong flight, snow disturbed by his wake sifting to the forest floor. Teeth clenched and eyes narrowed both against the wind of his progress and in undiminished rage, Halin shifted yet more magic to his wings, increasing his speed another notch.
His trip back from Deningrad would be faster than the leisurely pace set by Veria's limitations, of course, more than twice as fast, maybe three times. He hadn't bothered with carrying anything much, either--there was no need. Halin expected to complete the trip long before nightfall. He was quick on his wings, no one could get there faster...
Except Bardel, and the unwilling admission stung with a chill worse than the fine snow that ground against his face. It had never bothered him much before that he couldn't teleport, when the Bardel brothers stood unquestionable leaders of all the anti-Human sentiment in the Forest. But that Pahlan Bardel, perhaps the strongest Wingly in the Forest save for Ancestor Blano, would outright betray his pure Wingly heritage--intolerable!
And Guaraha was allowing it...influenced by the exiled Meru, no doubt, and Halin admitted that choice wasn't particularly surprising. The question, though, was how to prevent the relationship from going farther. It was perfectly obvious that Pahlan Bardel could no longer see sense on his own; something had to be done. Halin knew just the person to help.
The paths through the forest twisted below him, but Halin paid little attention to them--he could feel the seal on the Forest clearly enough to find his way back without bothering about the Humans' roads. Sped by anger and worry, he covered the distance even more quickly than he had expected, and the sun had not yet begun to take on the tints of evening.
Halin dipped under the branches and into the shaded hollow, to all appearances simply a dead end. Despite the Ancestor's decision to contact the Humans, the Forest was still barred against idle passers-by and curiosity-seekers. Hovering, he called more of his magic to bear, and stretched one hand toward the faint glow in midair. The seal pulsed in recognition and irised open, leaving the trail clear. Halin increased the power to his wings and flew through.
"Welcome back, Halin!" a cheerful voice called. Halin looked up to see the current guard, and was slightly disgusted to see no one but Kairu, Meru's mother. He doubted the woman could gather enough magic for a single attack.
But he swallowed that for the moment and smiled at her. "Thanks. I have news on the progress--is Ancestor Blano in his tower?"
"No, actually at the moment you'll find the Ancestor up at the long-range teleporter. Caron came back earlier today with some others from Ulara, and they're working on its focus, or something of the sort." Kairu leaned forward, and the faintest hint of a frown wrinkled her forehead. "Good news, I hope?"
Halin nodded. "The rebuilding is going very well," he said. There was no point mentioning his own concerns to Kairu. She would only get in the way.
With a friendly wave of farewell, he left the older woman behind and flew into the village, wings humming. He had no intention of going up to the teleporter just yet.
The entrance to Prado's home was across the pond, snug amid the weeds and not easy to find at the best of times, its glow dimmer than the normal bright green; Halin knew that the power source was such that it could be shut down at a moment's notice. This was design and not neglect--Prado had constructed his own home, though there was certainly no shortage of space. For reasons incomprehensible to most but perfectly clear to Prado's peers, at the time including the Bardels, he had made defensibility and secrecy its primary attributes.
"The seal won't last forever," Halin remembered Prado's low warning, "and when the Humans attack us, even the Ancestor will see it's a good thing someone thought ahead." Ancestor Blano had been rather critical of the project, calling it a waste of magic, and Prado had never quite forgiven him.
Halin chose not to land on the muddy bank of the pond, instead hovering just above until he was quite certain where the teleporter was. He touched down lightly, fully cutting power to his wings only once the green light sprang up around him.
As the light faded, Halin looked around, searching for Prado. The interior of the home was sparsely furnished and unembellished, a good fit for the older Wingly--Prado took no pleasure in comfort or decoration, never had.
"Back already, Halin?" a voice called from the other room. Prado walked in, an ancient leather-bound book carefully cradled in his arms. "Have the--" he grimaced slightly--"the Humans attacked you, or did the exile's fiancé just fail?"
Halin shook his head to both. "It's only me back...the Humans are accepting everything we offer, for now. Bardel and Guaraha say they're almost done and need more high-magic Winglies soon, to hold the castle against attack. That's why they sent me. But, Prado..." He hesitated, unsure how to put it, knowing it would enrage his long-admired mentor. "...it's about Bardel. I had to tell you first, I don't know what to do..."
Prado lifted a silver eyebrow. "Not good news, I take it."
"Some would find it good." Halin scowled. "Bardel is spending large amounts of time with a Human girl, the Fourth Sacred Sister of Mille Seseau--Setie, they call her. I'm afraid he's become quite infatuated with her. There are rumors--you know Niama--rumors he might even be " He couldn't say it.
The other got the picture nevertheless, and his expression fell into a dark displeasure. "I see why you wanted to tell me before reporting to the Ancestor. He would never understand."
Halin nodded, gratefully. Prado would know what should be done. He always did.
"Well, we can't let this go on, of course," Prado continued. "Halin, why don't you go ahead and give me the rest of your report."
It didn't take long to fill in the general details of what had been happening in Deningrad, and Halin hurried through it. "Kairu saw me on the way in," he finished, "so I don't know how much time I have before she might tell someone..."
"Not likely until her shift is up," Prado said absently, his eyes distant. "But yes, we'll have to hurry..." He turned suddenly to meet the younger Wingly's gaze. "Halin, do you trust me?"
"Of course I do," Halin affirmed at once, puzzled by the intensity in his friend's crimson eyes.
"Then hold still. And don't ask questions." Prado set his book down on the table nearby, and reached to place one hand lightly on Halin's head.
Halin did as instructed and held himself unmoving and silent, still confused. Prado's eyes seemed to be oddly bright, staring into his own...unless it was that everything else was darkening...why did he feel so very tired..?
"Veria," Prado murmured, "isn't the only one in the Forest with a gift for the mind powers...I just have sense enough to keep mine a secret. I'm sorry, Halin. You're loyal, but you're still too soft for this."
The long-range teleporter hummed with power, a strong sound too rarely heard in the Village. Caron examined it, frowning in concentration as she listened. "A little more, Rynal, Netti," she directed, "...there! Cut it!"
The two younger Winglies dropped their hands, the shimmer of magic dimming from around them. The teleporter continued to gleam, fully active, and Caron nodded in satisfaction. "Very well done. It is fully recharged, Ancestor Blano," she called.
"My thanks, Caron," Blano smiled, carefully shutting down the system. The hum faded from the air, and the hovering stones came to rest. "We haven't had this much range in centuries."
"Neither have we," Rynal muttered. Netti elbowed the young man.
Caron gave a soft laugh. "Rynal is right...the teleporter in Ulara is much improved since I applied some of the changes I saw here. Retuning your focus and recharging the reserve is only fair after what you have provided us."
Rynal nodded eagerly. "I never thought we could reach any farther," he put in. "It's been shrinking for ever since the city was founded, almost."
"Ancestor Blano!" a voice came from below. Caron turned toward it, to see a young Wingly man she thought she recognized as one of Guaraha's companions flying quickly upward.
Blano looked over. "Welcome back, Halin," he greeted, confirming Caron's guess. "Is there news?"
Halin cut power to his wings and landed. "Yes, Guaraha and Bardel sent me to tell you that they're close to being finished--there's an even stronger effect than they expected, they say. They want more high-magic Winglies to come to Deningrad, so we can be ready...in case. Oh, and the Humans are cooperating," he added almost as an afterthought. He turned to Caron. "It is fortunate you are here, Caron, can you help?"
"Of course," Caron affirmed. "I must return to Ulara shortly, but I will come to Deningrad soon with several others to assist...Rynal, Netti, will you come?"
Her two companions stepped forward in instant agreement. "Of course we will," Netti said, and Rynal nodded.
"We can easily use the teleporter to send you home, now," Ancestor Blano said. "Is there anything you need?"
Caron shook her head. "Everything is in Ulara. If I may make a suggestion, though--Netti, you are better than I even at tuning a proper focus; that may be useful. Will you go ahead with Halin? I will bring anything you need from Ulara when I come."
"Sure," the Wingly woman agreed. "My sister can tell you what I'll want if we're staying a while."
"There's no time to lose," Halin said abruptly. "We should go now."
The Ancestor shot him a curious glance, but stepped toward the activation point. "If you are certain. Netti, Halin, you first. I will set the coordinates."
"See you later, Caron! Rynal!" Netti called cheerfully, landing on the metallic pad with something between a skip and a leap. Halin followed her more sedately.
The teleporter's hum rose again, scaling smoothly up to the breakpoint--then the two were gone in a flash of pale green.
Ancestor Blano was frowning at where they had been. Noting it, Caron inquired, "Is something wrong?"
"I don't...know," Blano said, lingering a moment over the words. "Something seemed different about Halin...I cannot say quite what it was...but I do not like the change..."
The teleporter placed them just outside the borders of a city, Netti saw, turning to take in the view. A gently rolling plain stretched out behind them to the edge of what had to be the Evergreen Forest.
She turned again to examine the city, eyes darting everywhere at once in excitement. It was easily larger than Ulara, and even though walls and buildings lay in ruins she could see it had been a lovely place. Where the frames of new homes appeared in areas cleared of rubble, the work was careful yet swift--there was nothing ill-considered or careless in the repair work, though some of the Humans appeared to be making do with tents until it was finished.
The glimmer in the sky drew her attention at last to the crystalline spires towering above, an intricate but nearly complete pattern. This was what Blano's representatives had been working on, she remembered, and smiled happily to see it going so well. Even as she watched, a distant speck moved with the glow of wings, and a subtle resonance alerted her to the active spells.
A hand shoved her roughly from behind. "Well, stop gaping and let's go," Halin snapped at her, pushing by into the city.
Netti stared openmouthed at the boy. What was that for? she thought, resentment dimming the excitement of getting to see a new and fascinating place. It's a wonder there aren't open battles if this is the way these Forest Winglies act!
But that wasn't fair, she reminded herself charitably, Ancestor Blano had been impeccably courteous and so had everyone else she spoke to. This Halin was probably under a lot of stress, and tired. He had just flown all the way to the Forest, after all.
She gathered her wide skirts and hurried after him, not wanting to get lost. The skirts were no hindrance when Netti flew, which was her preferred mode of travel, but right now she wished she had given in to the trim style many of her friends had adopted. It wouldn't feel right somehow to go flying about in front of all these Humans, and Halin didn't seem in any mood to wait for her.
She caught a few curious glances from the Humans about the streets, but no hostility. No one ventured to speak with her, probably because she was so obviously in a hurry, and Netti rather regretted the necessity. It would have been nice to spend at least a few minutes in conversation. Well, that would have to wait.
Ahead, Halin went between two buildings, around a corner, and out of sight. Netti gave up on looking even semi-dignified and sprinted.
And slammed at full speed into something that gave way with a yelp, tumbling to the cobbled stones with a painful jolt. Gasping to regain her breath, Netti couldn't see anything for a long moment. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my fault," she choked out, horribly embarrassed. Here she had just been criticizing Halin's bad manners, and she ran smack into someone!
"Quite all right," a light male voice responded, still recovering his own breath from the sound of it.
Netti finally blinked her vision clear and began scrambling to her feet, gratefully accepting the aid of an extended hand. She looked up to see a tall young man in drab-colored clothing, with--wait. Platinum hair? "You're a Wingly!" she blurted.
"I could say the same to you," the man replied, laughter in his voice. "With rather more cause, since I certainly thought I knew all the Winglies in Deningrad. I'm Kedim. You must be from Ulara?"
She nodded, feeling her face grow hot. "Caron sent me with Halin, to see if I could be any help. My name is Netti."
Kedim bowed slightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Netti, and your help will be much appreciated, I'm sure. I thought I saw Halin dashing through here a minute ago!" he added, frowning. "What's he in such a hurry about that he forgot you like that?"
"I'm sure I have no idea," Netti said, and didn't quite succeed in eliminating her irritation from the words.
He looked at her and offered an arm. "Well, never mind that, I don't know what gets into Halin sometimes. Shall I introduce you to everyone? You'll need to talk to Guaraha and Veria, and probably Bardel, if you're up to getting to work right away. We're awfully close to finishing, it's gone remarkably well. Veria says maybe even by tomorrow."
"Certainly," Netti said happily, laying one hand on his elbow. "It's all so beautiful here! I wish I'd been able to see it before the Dragon attacked."
Kedim nodded. "Me, too. I never imagined a Human city would be like this. And I've really come to admire the Humans--even after the attack, picking up and rebuilding like they are."
Above, the sunset turned the crystal spires into prisms sparkling in orange and crimson. Netti looked up in wonder, but the looming orb of the Moon broke into her bright mood. She stared at it with something very like hatred. How long, how long...?
A comforting squeeze drew her attention, and she found Kedim watching her in understanding. "We'll manage," he murmured. "Or they will. It will be all right."
"It'll be all right," Netti repeated, clinging to the words in desperate hope. Of course it will. Of course. Rose and the Dragoons will prevent it, or destroy it, or Charle will manage something like the first time, or we'll hold it back here. She glared up at the Moon again. See that? You haven't won yet, and you never will.
The chairs were too soft, the bed was too flat, the window was too large and the wrong shape, the sunlight was too bright, and once it got dark the lamp they'd provided didn't even come close to matching the regular magical illumination in the Forest. The walls and floor were cold stone instead of living wood and woven carpeting. And the Humans--the Humans--the Humans--
Setie...
--were...well, he could not clear his mind long enough to finish a single thought, which was mostly her fault.
It was so much easier just hating them, Pahlan decided with a sigh. Not that he would or even could go back to that. Not now. The sight of his sister's broken body had somehow been replaced with the sound of her blithe laughter, silvery hair blown wild in the wind...Tiala staring wistfully into the distance, her whispers about how much bigger the world was than the Forest...and a keen regret that he had never been able to introduce Tiala to Setie. They would have been such friends.
He looked down at the parchment in front of him, determined to get back to work on his calculations, and was mildly horrified to read instead of mathematical formulas Living gold, your hair brighter than sunshine/Purest sapphire, you have looked into my heart...
Pahlan swiftly tore off that edge of the paper, ripped it into several fragments and stuffed it into the unlit fireplace. Poetry? Him? And it wasn't even good poetry. This had definitely gone much farther than he had ever expected.
There was a gentle tap on the door. Pahlan glanced at the fireplace swiftly to be sure the words were well buried in the ash. "Come in," he called.
Guaraha entered, closing the door behind himself. "Is anything wrong, Pahlan?" he asked, with a concerned frown.
Pahlan tried to laugh and failed, the sound coming out half-choked. "Why would anything be wrong?"
The frown deepened. "Well, I wouldn't know, but Veria said you're--I quote--broadcasting enough anxiety it's a wonder they don't hear you in Ulara." Guaraha found an empty chair and dragged it up beside the desk. "Though I do have my guess. Her name's Setie."
The laugh was slightly more genuine this time, if tinged with mild self-deprecation. "Have I been that obvious?"
"Well, yes, rather," Guaraha admitted with a smile. "Care to talk about it?"
Pahlan hesitated a long moment, but finally nodded. "I suppose I need to, and no one better than you." He rested his arms on the desk, gazing blindly down. "I love her. I love her, and I can't bear the thought of going back to the Forest without her. She's light and joy and life--Guaraha, I haven't felt really happy since Tiala died, until now...but...she's Human, and I'm Wingly, and how can it ever work?"
"Why shouldn't it work?"
That drew a startled glance. "What?"
Guaraha held out a hand, palm up. "I don't want vague generalizations, Pahlan. Give me some solid reasons, and we'll see how well they hold up. I don't deny I've been giving the matter some thought, too."
Settling back in his chair in silent acquiescence, Pahlan hesitated for a long moment, then said, "Prejudice. People in the Forest won't be happy with the thought, and some Humans probably won't either."
"Granted, but you know quite well the people who will have a problem with it will have a problem with any interaction at all. The isolationists in the Forest will protest, but they're going to have to get over it--maybe this can even help, seeing how much you've changed. Among the Humans, it's mostly a lack of knowledge, lack of trust, and the only way they'll get over that is if we Winglies show we can be trusted."
There was a moment's silence, as Pahlan turned that statement over and found a new objection. "If there were children...is it even possible, across species? What would they be like? How would they be treated, by both groups?"
"I've been thinking about that," Guaraha admitted. "You know how we were all startled by the Second Sacred Sister's telepathy? I can't help but wonder if there isn't some Wingly ancestry in her bloodline. All this time...Meru can't be the first one who's ever left the Forest. And then there's this possibility of other Wingly communities." He shrugged. "As for treatment, yes, there probably will be some prejudice, but anyone who really matters will see reason."
"Prado's group will say it's tainting the bloodline, when there are so few Winglies left," Pahlan pointed out.
"I really don't think you'd have been likely to marry anyone else, Pahlan. They ought to be pleased that you're making any contribution. Besides, if Wingly heritage can be passed on to Humans, there's a much better chance of us not being forgotten."
Pahlan nodded ruefully. "You're probably right about that. Ah...age difference? Setie's so much younger than I am..."
Guaraha snorted softly. "Getting desperate for reasons, Pahlan? That's ridiculous and you know it. At the different rates of aging, you're quite well matched. With two years' engagement or so, there shouldn't be any problem at all."
"But where would we live?" Pahlan asked plaintively.
At this, Guaraha laughed outright, and reminded him, "Every young couple has to come up with an answer to that. And I think you'd better have a few other things settled first. But you know Ancestor Blano wouldn't make you leave, and I'm pretty sure Queen Theresa would be about the same."
The older Wingly raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right. I'm being self-pitying and foolish, and you've shown that clear enough, thanks."
Guaraha folded his arms, with a grin. "Happy to help." He hesitated. "Do you know what you're going to do?"
Pahlan lowered his gaze to the desk again and let out a slow breath. "Yes," he said at last. "I'm going to ask Queen Theresa and the other Sacred Sisters if they would object to an engagement. Then I'm going to find out if Setie feels anything like the same." He looked up, meeting Guaraha's gaze. "I know it would usually be the other way around, but I won't be a cause for anger between Setie and her family."
The intensity in the statement forced an approving nod. "That's hard, but I think you're right," Guaraha agreed, and leaned forward, crimson eyes intent. "Now I'm going to tell you what my father told me, a long time ago. Love between husband and wife, Pahlan, the kind of love that lasts, is half emotion and half commitment. Alone, emotion fades; alone, commitment grows cold and hard--they are two halves and cannot be separated. It's obvious you have the emotion. Will you be able to commit to this, as well?"
Pahlan didn't look away, but the question shook him, finding echoes in memory. Commitment...as Guaraha offered to Meru, he thought, remembering the unwilling admiration that had been a first step on the journey out of bitterness. And the pain that choice had cost his young friend, so far... Will I be able to commit to Setie like that?
The answer came slowly, dragged from a heart unused to softness and long scarred by pain. Setie deserves no less from me. "Yes," he said quietly, and had to turn his face back toward the desk, hoping Guaraha wouldn't catch the glitter of emotion in his eyes. "Yes, if Setie and her family are willing, I'll make that commitment."
A hand grasped his shoulder in brief expression of support. "I know you will." Guaraha took half a step toward the door--paused. "But that isn't all, Pahlan, is it? Something else is bothering you."
Pahlan shuddered. Yes. Yes, it is. "Don't ask, Guaraha..."
"I'm your friend, Pahlan--if it's bothering you, I want you to tell me," Guaraha insisted.
The older Wingly swallowed, half-raised a limp hand, and forced the reluctant words to come. "Setie, she's...I'm...I don't deserve her, Guaraha, I've spent half my life hating Humans--plotting murder! How could she possibly consider...?"
There was a long pause. "That I understand," Guaraha said at last, voice tight. "Oh, that I understand very well, Pahlan. But don't think you're the only one who's felt that way."
Pahlan looked up, and winced at the open pain in his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
He waved it off. "I know. It isn't your fault. Something that might help, though...remember, if you thought you did deserve her, you certainly wouldn't." Something less than half a smile tugged at his mouth. "And it isn't up to you--it's her choice."
With a sigh, Pahlan nodded. "It does help."
"Not much else to say, then," Guaraha shrugged. "I'll leave you to your work."
The door clicked shut. Pahlan stared at the parchment, scarcely seeing the numbers written there for long moments.
He shook his head sharply, clearing it. Concentration came easier now, and he made a mental note to thank Guaraha sometime later. For now, if there was going to be any chance at making that commitment to Setie, these calculations had to be done; if his neglect caused them to lose the possibility of saving the world, there would be no future to consider.
There was no one between Pahlan's downstairs bedroom and his own upstairs, for which Guaraha was grateful. He didn't want to have to deal with more problems just then.
I don't deserve her, Pahlan's voice echoed in memory, how could she consider...? Guaraha shut the door to his room firmly and sat down, letting himself sink into the soft Human bed. The words had hit home, and Pahlan had recognized it. I don't deserve her...
How long had it been? A year after the engagement...three years now? Arguments had been common enough, one of Meru's favorite pastimes really, but this had always been their only major conflict...Come with me, she'd pleaded, come and see! There's a world outside...
And he'd refused, too much of a coward to leave, too afraid of the community's anger, of the finality of the Ancestor's commandment. Her patience had worn out at last...Why don't you just break the engagement, if what people think matters so much more to you than I do! I will go, Guaraha, and if you won't come you might as well be free to marry someone with ideas you like better.
You can't go, he'd replied, and neither can I. I love you, Meru...but don't ask me to leave the Forest.
At last she had lost patience with him and slipped out, without so much as saying good-bye. She'd known he would have tried to stop her, would have refused to come, would probably have gotten her into deeper trouble with the Ancestor and everyone else. Stubborn, heartless...it'd be little wonder if Meru had chosen not to wait for him. There wasn't much about him worth waiting for.
But she'd asked again when she returned. That gave him hope. Come out with me, Guaraha!
I can't... He'd wanted to, how he'd wanted to! But to break probation--he couldn't...
He should have. Guaraha heaved a sigh, admitting his foolishness. If it had meant enough to him, if she had meant enough to him, he could have gone with her. He could be with her now, helping her, he'd know what was happening...
A knock at the door pulled him back from introspection. Hastily, he stood and rubbed a hand across his face before going over to answer.
Kedim stood outside, and beside him a Wingly woman Guaraha didn't know; her thick, full-skirted dress with its similarity to Caron's and her young appearance made for a pretty clear guess as to why that was.
"Guaraha, this is Netti, from Ulara," Kedim introduced in confirmation.
The woman dipped her head in courtesy. "I'm here to help however I can. Caron sent me. Others will be here as soon as they can."
She didn't share Caron's formality, Guaraha noted with interest. He bowed slightly in response. "It's very good to meet you, Netti. As soon as Pahlan Bardel finishes the last few calculations, we'll be setting up to actually use this thing...and none of us have near enough power to get much advantage." The Ularan Wingly had a power level easily twice Pahlan's, even Guaraha could sense that.
"I've only seen a glimpse of the crystal, but it looks like your group's done a wonderful job," Netti said. "And so quickly! Ancestor Blano obviously made the right choices in sending you all."
Guaraha grinned in spite of himself. "Well, thank you." He considered a moment. "Pahlan is working on the calculations now, based on what's been done already--I'll introduce you to him, and perhaps you can make some suggestions."
After they'd succeeded in sealing the last large shard into place, Veria had sent Kedim, Lanar, and the human architects off on their own tasks; Bardel had gone already, Guaraha, after speaking with Veria, not long after. Rienna, Niama, and Veria had stayed some time later, going over every seal and angle to check for accuracy. The structure had to be right in order to be ready for the next day's fine-tuning, the smaller shards that would make the focus stronger yet.
At last, Rienna let the probing spell drop, releasing Niama's magic. With a breath of relief--it was a considerable strain to hold the support position for so long--Niama pulled it back to herself. "You've barely left me enough to fly," she complained teasingly.
Rienna landed, and instantly Niama regretted her words. The older woman's face was drawn with exhaustion and very pale, and her wings flickered out as though they could be held no longer. "Don't you go whining," she muttered, breath shallow. "Holding control's no easier, and I don't have anyone to switch with."
In wordless apology, Niama reached to lay a hand on Rienna's shoulder, and forced a little of her own magic through it--a gift this time, not a loan. She added a minor healing spell, and was relieved to see a little of the grayness fade from Rienna's face. Her own reserves were low, but a short rest would mend that. Rienna was on the verge of collapse from mental and physical exhaustion.
"You need to get to bed, Rienna," Veria directed, concern clear in her face. "Lanar will know where you are."
She nodded and turned for their guesthouse, head bent against a growing breeze, feet dragging painfully slow. Niama watched, worried. "Veria, you can't let her work tomorrow. She's way overstrained."
"I know it," Veria acknowledged. "But it's only the secondary segments tomorrow. I could seal those myself if I had to. You and Kedim should manage easily." She sighed. "I shouldn't have let her go on, but it was important, and I could feel she'd have given me no end of argument if I'd tried to stop her."
"Will she be all right?" an anxious voice asked from behind. Niama turned in some surprise to see Setie standing a few feet away.
"Rienna will be fine," Veria assured the Human girl. "She just needs some time to recover."
Setie smiled relief. "I'd hate it if any of you were hurt trying to help us..." She turned to Niama. "I was just wondering if you were done for the day, because Lenita brought some things over she thought you might like to try on. "
"We're done," Niama said at once, then thought to look at Veria. "I mean, we'd better be done," she added.
Veria laughed. "You can go. I'm going to stick around here a while longer, I want to make sure I know what I'm talking about when I go to discuss focusing angles with Bardel..."
"Don't wait too long," Niama advised. "You're tired, too, you know. Keep staring at this crystal and you won't be awake enough to add, much less figure angles."
A slow, reluctant yawn forced its way out; Veria covered it, shaking her head in amusement. "True enough. But run along."
Notes: I know it's been forever, and I'm not sure anyone even remembers this thing anymore...I haven't given up on it, just been very slow. No promises on when Part Four and the epilogue will be done, I'm afraid. Part Four should be significantly more eventful than this one; quite possibly longer as well, to fit everything in. The title for that will be 'Hope Beyond Despair'.
All comments are welcome.
If the poem at the top sounds familiar, it's because it's from my pre-game fic Crystal Shard. Actually, a large part of the inspiration for it. That's how long I've had this fic planned out...pathetic, really, how long it's taking.
