Written from Daja Kisubo, in the city of Hajra to Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, in the city of Summersea:
So, we've been very busy these last few weeks. Actually, we've been busy since
we've gotten here. The Hajran emperor wants this city
gate to be gorgeous. The old one was just plain wood, basically. He wants the
new one to be elaborate, of twisted metal in gold and silver and copper and iron,
in graceful designs. He's not making us pay for the supplies, of course, but I
can imagine that this is going to be one expensive city door.
I suppose he could probably put all that money to extra use. If he's got so much to make a beautiful city door, I can think of much more important things to use it for. As far as I understand, Briar's left a few of his thief-friends here. The Hajran emperor might've rooted them out using some of that money, or cleaned up the city, or something. But, no, he's making a city door. I'm not going to tell him what to do, though. He's a frightening-looking man.
Kirel and Frostpine and I are getting closer to getting the door done, though I
expect we've still got weeks and weeks ahead of us. We've gotten one of the
doorframes done and the artwork started on it, and the other doorframe is
partially finished. It's so hard because of the size of it. You can't bring it
into the shop as a whole. You have to make the frame in bits and pieces and
then go outside to the rest of the doorframe and attach the pieces out there,
where there's room to do so. And so you have to build a fire outside, and bring
the equipment outside, too....it's almost like we have two shops, one inside
and one outside.
We made the frame from iron and copper, melted together and twisted together
around each other. The frame's beams are quite thick. They weren't that hard to
do. With our metal-magic, Frostpine and I were able to twist the metals
together without heating them too much. Copper and iron like
each other enough. But then, we had to attach beams between the rectangular poles
of the frame. The metal beams we had to actually melt down a lot and attach, which
proved rather difficult with the door frames outside. Now we're working on the
design, which is fun, but we have to do it fully by hand.
How are things in Summersea? Tell your uncle hello
from Frostpine, myself, and Kirel. Hope you're having fun. I miss you.
---
From Tris Chandler, Growing Circle Temple, near Ninver, to Briar Moss,
Earth-Temple, Stepping Stone Islands:
It sounds like you're being kept busy. And enjoying your
work, too. That's good. I'd hate for you to be bored.
I can tell you I'm sure not bored. The masters here keep me so busy I'm scared
I'll go crazy and my head will explode. I'm not saying I'm not glad I came
here. It's a great experience - I'm learning so much – how to concentrate my power,
how to use it for more specific things, different spells, charms, and the like.
But it's work. We don't get the long
break time here like at Discipline. It's constant study, except for a free hour
before lights-out. They're much stricter here with that sort of thing than Lark
and Rosethorn were.
The Temple's beautiful, though not quite up to snuff
with Winding Circle, of course. The
libraries aren't as good, either, but I still really like the place. I haven't
had hardly any time to go around exploring, but it's a comfortable home. Now
I'm in a dormitory with all the other girls, and I share my room, which I don't
like as much as having my own. The girls are nosy. They ask questions about my
books, and my clothes, and my magic, and this and that. If they ask me one more
question I'm going to scream. They just have to know everything. They don't laugh
at me, though. Not so much, anyway.
The best thing about this, though, is the fact that I'm rather near Stone Circle Temple, where Niko found me. The people there thought I was nuts, possessed, had a ghost living in me, or some trash like that. It felt great to go back there and prove them wrong. It sounds cruel, but after all they did, I figured a little correcting them wouldn't hurt their pride, not too much anyway.
I wish that our ties to each other - our mental link - was still strong, but
there's far too much distance between the four of us for it to work. With me in
Ninver, you in the Stepping Stone Islands, Sandry in Summersea, and Daja in Hajra,
we're all on very different sides of the Pebbled Sea. If any of you could
contact each other, I bet it'd be you and Daja - you are the closest to each
other, distance-wise - but I bet you've already tried.
It's strange. Before we were all such in easy access to one another, but now we
can't even use our mind-link. It's sad. I feel lonely, without being able to talk
to everyone. Yes, even you, thief-boy.
---
From Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, in the city of Summersea, to Tris Chandler, Growing Circle Temple, near Ninver:
I find myself with little to do at the castle. Even though Duke Vedris really wants me to stay around the castle, he knows
that he can't cage me here. I've wandered into the city, looking through the
market, alone. (Perhaps it's dangerous not to go with someone, but I think I'd
be able to work my way out of a tough spot.)
I
met this woman - her name is Adrienna - and she was
selling some articles of clothing. Beautiful, I tell you, just beautiful -
skirts and dresses, cloaks and capes, breeches, cotton pullovers - and I
thought they were overly expensive, even though they are very nice. The woman
told me they were expensive because they were made with magic. Used to protect the
wearer from rain and weather, protect against illness and to guarantee good
health. I thought it was amazing, just absolutely
astonishing. Upon learning that I was a thread-mage, Adrienna
wanted to teach me how to do it, too. That's my newest project - making a cloak
sealed by magic, possibly one to protect from illness. I promise once I get
good enough at it, I'm going to make one for you, Daja, and Briar. Just don't
grow much without telling me, or I'll make them all the wrong size.
How the studying going? I hope it's not as boring as it sounds. Sorry, Tris, but more studying doesn't sound to me like a
piece of cake. I'm glad that I'm not constantly working, but I must say that it
has its cons over sitting bored in the castle here. My uncle might be able to
entertain noble adults, but certainly not noble children!
Have you heard from either Daja or Briar? The last time I talked to Daja she
was well, but that was a while ago. And since Briar's letters have to go by
boat, they take a while. Fine for him to go to an island!
Take care of yourself, Tris. Best of luck with your studies.
I hope we get to talk soon. Write back. I'll be here at the castle. Love you.
---
From Briar Moss, Earth-temple, Stepping Stone
Islands, to Daja Kisubo, city of Hajra:
Lucky you. You get to see my wonderful old home. I'm glad I'm not you. I'd hate
to have to go back there. My memories there aren't worth remembering.
I'm having a fine time. Working here's fascinating. Right now, we're breeding
two plants used in two herbal teas - one for stomach aches, one for sore
throats - to see if we can get one plant that does both. Bet you didn't know
that you could breed plants, eh? Just like you do animals.
There's girl plants and boy plants. You have to remove
the pollen from the stamens on the flowers and put it into the center of the
flower, into the ovary. Eventually in the center of the flower a seed is
formed.
It sounds more complicated than it is, though it's not easy either. Sometimes it won't work. And sometimes when you breed them, the plant that comes out is deformed, and doesn't do what you want it to do. And the worst is the waiting. You have to wait for the seed to form, and you wait for it to grow, an' then you have to test out the new flower. It really is fun work, though.
Everyone's real nice, but the cook here won't give out free treats like Dedicate Gorse. Rosethorn's come by, once, just to drop off something to the Dedicate Superior at the Temple, but she also kind of wanted to come and say hi to me and see how I was doing. She worries about all of us. She acts like we're her ugly ducklings.
I can't contact anyone through the mind-link. Can you? Seems we're too far away
to talk through it. Or maybe it's got something to do with the fact that the
thread-circle's with Sandry and not all of us? I hope she's taking care of it,
but knowing her she won't lose it.
Sorry this took so long to write back. But I haven't got much time to write,
and it takes me a while to write a long letter like this. You'd best thank Tris
for teaching me to write at all. Else I'd never be in contact with anyone.
Has it really been a whole year since we left Winding Circle? Say hello to Kirel
and Frostpine for me. Best of luck with the door.
Maybe we all could, you know, get together sometime, for a visit. I'd like
that.
---
From Daja Kisubo,
Hajra, in Sotat, to Tris
Chandler, Growing
Circle Temple, Ninver:
So we're done the doors - finally! It took nearly forever, but I'm so proud of
it. There are gold, copper, iron, and silver ribbons, twisted towards a center
globe of many metals, melted down and cooled to look sort of like a colored
pool, of metal. The colored beams wind up and down the doorway, around each
other only to split off every which way. It's in a pattern though, so it isn't
messy. This design is on both doors, the two mirror images of the other. It's
very nice.
When I see the doors, I keep thinking of you and me and Sandry and Briar, and
our thread circle. I can see it in our mind, and how Sandry pulled a thread
into it from each of us. I can see each of the colored metals - copper, iron,
silver, and gold - as one of us, though I'm not sure which is which of us.
Now, Frostpine says that the emperor here wants us to do another different set
of doors at the other end of the city. Next thing you know, I'll be Daja the
City-Door-Maker, good for nothing but to make doorframes until I die.
I hear your studies are going well enough. Sandry wrote me and said you've
learned some interesting spells. You'll have to show me the next time we meet.
Hopefully that will be soon.
Frostpine has been introducing me to some new, rarer types of metal as we've
been working, since I'm discussing studying. He refuses either Kirel or I to
break from studying from the books he gives to us. I think he wants us to study
so much that we breathe the names of metals and dream of them in our sleep.
I'm not working on anything new magically though. Frostpine doesn't want to
distract me from my work with the doors too much.
As soon as these next doors are done - and, if, Trader Koma
forbid, we aren't assigned another set of doors - you, me,
Briar, and Sandry must get together. I love Frostpine and Kirel, but my heart
aches to be with everyone else, too.
---
From Briar Moss, Earth-temple, Stepping
Stone Islands, to Dedicate Rosethorn, Winding Circle Temple, Emelan:
Is Discipline lonely without us to keep it lively?
Are Lark and Niko there at Winding Circle, too? Can you tell
them that I said hello?
We work in a greenhouse here, too, just like Crane does. I can almost hear you
blowing steam from here, Rosethorn. Don't call me a traitor. Wasn't my idea to
work in a greenhouse, but that's what the Dedicate Superior here says we have
to do. I'm not breeding any plants anymore myself, though I was before.
Now we're testing this one plant newly discovered up in Lake Glaise that might be able to help with cold symptoms. We aren't testing them on people, because if one of them was actually poisonous or something, that person would sure be done for. 'Stead, we're finding out what it's made of, and comparing what it's made of to what other plants that help with colds are made of. If they share some of the same substances, then they'll maybe able to do the same things. It's neat stuff. It's lot like when we were finding the keys to that plague, when we were figuring out the cure. I really liked that work.
Your garden is coming up? It looked fine when I last saw it, and I bet you're
taking good care of it. Crane is still trying to work growing them tomato
plants in his greenhouse? You know, I almost feel sorry for him, but not quite.
I
am going to come back to Discipline. The girls and me
are trying to figure out a time when we can all come up together. I should
probably be writing to them soon.
Miss
you, Rosie.
---
From Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, Summersea, in Emelan, to Briar Moss, Earth-temple, Stepping Stone Islands:
Yes, the shirt enclosed is for you. I made it myself on the looms. Like I told
you, Adrienna helped me to seal it with a protective
spell, so you won't get sick. I thought it sort of appropriate; since you're
working in a sort of medical laboratory, it wouldn't do for you to get sick. I'm
working on one for Daja and Tris each, but they aren't done quite yet.
The Duke has found nothing for me to do. I myself thought I should make myself
useful, instead of sitting around here looking pretty. I went down to the hospital
in the city, wondering if they needed bandages or something to be woven. No,
they had bandages. They needed help around the building. They insisted if I
wanted to sew, they could show me how to stitch a wound. I'm not sure if they were
teasing me or being morbid or not, so I left. I couldn't possibly work in the hospital,
stitching wounds or no. Blood makes me queasy, even still, sometimes. So alas,
I still have nothing to do, and I have tried, I really have. I'm contemplating
asking Duke Vedris if I can take a visit back to Winding Circle, hopefully soon. Life here
is that boring.
Enough about me. How have you been? I've been told
that Rosethorn paid you a visit. I'd like to know she's alright. Has anyone
heard from Niko? I don't even know if he's still at Winding Circle, or if he's off doing
"special errands" like he usually is. I should probably write a
letter to Lark, too. There's something
to do!
No one's been able to talk through the mind link still, though I have tried
often enough. It's just, when I reach, there isn't anyone there. I can feel your presence - as in, you're around, somewhere -
but I just can't touch you. It's frustrating! I'm writing to Niko soon to see
if he can help, unless someone else has already done so. I still have our
circle just as we left it. It's not been broken or anything. So, that's not the
problem.
I've still got my crystal, the glowing one you gave me. I don't know how much
light you put into it, but it sure was plenty. This light won't be going out
for a while. But it really is helping me. The dark's not as bad anymore, though
I definitely prefer daytime.
I have to cut this letter short. The Duke says it's
suppertime. Take care of yourself, Briar. I can't believe it's been 2 years
since we left Winding Circle!
---
From Tris Chandler, Growing Circle Temple, near Ninver, to Daja Kisubo, Hajra, in Sotat:
The studying continues! You wouldn't believe some of the strange spells I've
learned. I can call and charm lightning now at will. Not control it - I've learned you can't force nature to do anything -
but ask it nicely enough that it will probably do what I ask. You remember how I
had sparks all over me for a while there? Well, I still can do that, but I can
control if I want to do that now. That's a good thing. It was pretty strange
when people gave me looks for it.
My favorite spell of all, though, is using a seeing crystal. The master gave
all of us a crystal, which he commanded us to do all sorts of stuff with. You
have to place energy in them, place in it a memory of the person you want to
track, such and such. It works, too. Right now I'm watching Sandry walk down
the halls of the castle. It's good to see her again, even if I can't tell her
anything.
I can't talk to people using the crystal, not yet. For one they've got to have a crystal too. Maybe Sandry can use that one we gave her. It's not a seeing crystal, but it's a crystal. I hope she still has it, but she couldn't have lost it in the two years it's been since we left Winding Circle, do you think? And anyhow, it's an intricate spell to talk to a person, too, and the master says I can't do that one, not for a little bit at least.
Don't tell our Lady Sandry that I'm spying on her, though. I should probably have asked her, first. But I'm not meaning to spy on her in a bad way. I just want to see if she's, you know, safe. You mind if I check in on you? I'd love to see your doors. They sound wonderful!
It's been quiet lately, the sky, I mean. It doesn't storm often. I wonder where
all the storms have gone? Maybe it's just where I'm situated. I mean, the
weather might be different here in Ninver, though I
do remember it storming more than this the last time I was here.
Maybe we can get together sometime. I know that we've been saying we want to
get together for a while now, but now seems like a
good time. I'm not too busy - the masters let us have a short break in the
year, and I'm able to take it now if I want - and I know Sandry's not too busy.
I figure
your doors are near done, considering how long the first ones took. I don't know
about Briar though. I hope that we can all get away. Two years is far too long
to go without seeing each other.
---
From Lady Sandrilene
fa Toren, Summersea, Emelan, to Tris
Chandler, Growing
Circle Temple, near Ninver:
Spying on me, are you? Well, I don't mind, not too much. Just next time, would
you mind warning me?
I finally found something to do. Loom houses in the city called to me. The noble ladies say that little noble girls shouldn't like spinning, only embroidery. Hmph! I'll tie them in knots if they try and stop me! I went to the loom houses and I'm helping the city people make clothes. Robes, specifically. They make the robes that get sent to all the Living Circle Temples, including Winding Circle's. Isn't that something? It would sure be neat if I could send a robe specifically for Lark. Wouldn't she be proud to see my loom-work improve!
Only, there's a problem. You're at a school; maybe you can ask some master what
to do. There's something wrong with the cotton and the flax and the wool
threads. They don't do anything. Don't have any energy. It's harder to spin
them, because they don't stick so easily. They don't respond to
much of anything. And it's not just my
threads, it's everyone's in the loom houses. They're
such a trouble, the threads, when you try to work with them this way.
Maybe the threads are sick or
something? They sure act like they're sick. It makes me sad to see them that
way.
Could you ask your master or something if he or she has any idea what's going
on? Or ask if they've heard of it someplace else? Maybe it's just the threads
in Summersea, but what if it's all of the threads?
What do we do?
It sounds silly for me to worry about a few threads, but I know you hurt when
they're something wrong with the tides or the winds. Briar can feel his plants
in pain. Daja's metals suffer, and she suffers with them.
Anyhow, I don't want to worry myself, or anyone else, to death. How is the
school? You will teach me some of what you've learned, won't you? I would love
to hear all about your adventures at Growing Circle, whilst I sit and
ponder the trouble of the looms.
---
From Dedicate Lark, Winding Circle
Temple, Emelan, to Lady Sandrilene
fa Toren, Summersea, Emelan:
I hear you're doing well. I'm glad you found something to do! You sounded just
bored to tears with nothing to do around the castle. I'm not sure why your
threads are acting up, but I can say mine are doing the same. It's probably the
heat - the heat doesn't suit wool and cotton, especially. I don't know what the
weather's like over there, but it sure is a scorcher over in Winding Circle! And it's rather dry,
too, come to think of it. Rosethorn's plants are not
happy.
Anyhow, I'll just as Niko, when he next drops by. Right now, he's not here. He's visiting some other mage-friend of his in Zakdin. I'm sure it's not really serious. Don't worry about it.
Well, all is well at Winding Circle. Discipline is lonely
without you. Since we've had no further "kids" that need our
assistance, Discipline is no longer the home to myself
or Rosie. We house with the other Earth dedicates in their dormitory. Honored Moonstream knows that while we say we're waiting for other
children to be assigned to us, we simply like the idea of rooms to ourselves. Rosethorn
had to transfer all her plants to pots and then replant them in the garden near
our dormitory. I don't have as much time to weave to myself anymore, but it's
alright.
Have you spoken with the others lately? If you do speak with any of them, tell
them hello for me, would you? Although, if I remember the last letter you sent
me, you said that you don't "speak" with anyone. You can't due to the
distance, you say? If you'd like, I could ask Niko about that one too.
Time to go now. Best of luck, Sandry!
---
From Briar Moss, Earth-temple, Stepping Stone Islands, to Dedicate Rosethorn,
Winding Circle Temple, Emelan:
How are you doing, Rosie? I haven't gotten another letter, a reply to the one I
wrote you a while ago. You sure you sent it to the right place? I'd be right sad
if you hadn't even written me.
The shakkan
is doing alright, but it seems sort of tired lately. I think it must miss you.
I've been giving it that feed you told me, and I put the wire around that one
branch that was sort of weak, but it still seems tired. Some of the other
plants in the lab, too - they aren't dying, they just don't feel right when you
probe them magically, you know? Or maybe I'm wrong, and I'm just imagining
things.
Mayhap
the shakkan
just doesn't like the water here, or something. Could you ask Niko, or tell me
if something's wrong?
---
From Daja Kisubo,
Hajra, in Sotat, to Briar
Moss, Earth-temple, Stepping Stone Islands:
These doors shouldn't be taking longer, but they somehow are. They're the same
size, and even simpler design, but they still somehow are taking a while. The
metals are being....well, weird. They're making it difficult to make anything
out of them. They're hard to work with. The Hajran
emperor must have gotten a weak third-notch quality metal for us to work with. Cheap.
Well, anyhow, we just aren't done yet, and thankfully the emperor hasn't given
us more doors, so I'm not sure what
project is up next. It'll be an adventure.
If you talk to Tris, could you tell her it's not okay for her to spy on me? If you don't know what that's about,
she made a seeing crystal and is watching everyone with it. You better tell her
not to spy on you, too, while you're at it.
Are you still breeding plants? Or doing something else now? I thought that you
were testing some new plant found someplace in the Namorn
Empire, but maybe someone told me wrong.
Lark's asking Niko how we can strengthen the mind-link. Thank you, Trader Koma! Maybe we can get this fixed. It's strange not being
in contact with anyone. I trust Niko can get us out of this one. He's gotten us
out of all sorts of trouble before.
Well, I have to go back to the forge and make more doors. Can you hear me
groaning? I swear I'll never touch a door as long as I live after this.
Hate to be sounding so down, but it isn't fun anymore with these... these sick metals!
Have fun with your plants.
---
From Briar Moss, Earth-temple, Stepping
Stone Islands, to Tris Chandler, Growing
Circle Temple, near Ninver:
Keep your neb out of my business, Coppercurls. Me -
and Daja - don't like being spied on!
---
Tris Chandler closed the letter and laughed. That Briar Moss isn't ever going to get rid of this thief-tongue, is
he? she asked herself. Shaking her head, she
leaned back on her bed, stuck the letter under her pillow (along with all the
other letters from Briar, Sandry, and Daja, which she read and re-read from
time to time), and blew out her candle.
She closed her eyes, thinking. Well, it had been 3 long years since she'd left Winding Circle. Three years! She
couldn't believe she'd been gone that long. A lot could happen in three years.
She wondered how much everyone had changed. They didn't seem changed from the
letters they'd written her.
But what can a mere letter say about how a person's changed? You have to really talk and see them to tell if they have changed, Tris thought. In three years, you'd think they would change. She suddenly realized that she herself had changed in the years since she'd left Winding Circle. She had grown a slight bit less snappy, though she still was quite sarcastic. She had physically changed as well. She had grown slightly taller without getting all that much wider, making her appear thinner.
But she still had the same stupid frizzy hair, and she still wore glasses, and deep inside, she was still Tris Chandler, Weather-mage and Discipline-alumni, once thought to be possessed, now thought to be a fantastic mage, bookworm, soul mate to Briar, Sandry, and Daja, student of Niklaren Goldeye, daughter to Dedicates Rosethorn and Lark, and the greatest Tris Chandler there could ever be.
She rolled over to her stomach. It had been a long day. And
what better day to cure that than by having a long night to balance it out?
It was a wonderful plan. And with that, Tris closed her eyes and slept.
Outside, a storm began to rage.
---
Daja wiped her forehead and looked at her sad metals, glowing like embers in
her hands. They certainly didn't feel right to her. She shook her head, trying
to convince herself it was simply a weak type of copper she wasn't used to.
That was all. She didn't want to think that something was wrong with her
metals, that they were sick. Daja knew as well as any mage that things in
nature didn't change, unless someone had forced them to
magically, or unless the earth was changing itself. Either way, it meant
trouble.
And I've already had my share of trouble, thank you very much! she thought, picking up a hammer. Just another week and we'll be done with the doors, thought Daja as she pounded the copper angrily. Finally! Maybe we could get a chance to visit Winding Circle. I sure would love to go back and see everyone.
She sighed as the metal slowly, very slowly, terribly slowly, began to bend in the direction she wanted it to. If these metals weren't... weak, then this door could have been done a few weeks ago! she thought, irritated. She later felt guilty. She had never felt mad at her metals, and she disliked the feeling of brokenness between her and her favorite thing in the world.
She also had a sneaking feeling that this wasn't the metals' fault at all.
Twisting the metal around itself, Daja felt a strange humming around her. The
metal suddenly became limp in her hands. All the metals in the room became
cold, weak - nearly soft! - and dead in feel. Turning
to Frostpine, she saw the metal in his hands was falling to pieces as well. Out
of the corner of her eye, she saw that the brass cap on her staff was melting
down its sides. Rushing to it - she treasured her staff more than anything! - she gasped as the metal began to pool on the floor.
Reaching
out to touch the brass, it flowed around her fingers and burned her. This was
unusual!
Daja could handle hot metals from the forge and not be burned, but this metal,
which wasn't even hot, was hurting her beyond her imagination.
Then
she realized that the burning sensation wasn't from heat of the metal. It was a
pain that the metal was bearing, and it was passing it onto her. The pain was
so intense that Daja fell to her knees, screaming in agony, tears flowing down
her brown cheeks.
---
Tris woke in the middle of the night with a horrible feeling in her gut.
Something was very wrong. She couldn't tell what it was, but the feeling was even
worse than when the earthquakes had come. The feeling was that of fear, fear
that didn't belong to her, but to someone else that should never be afraid of anything. She rolled out of bed, slipping on
some sandals, and dashed down out of the dormitory to a hallway with a large
window.
Flinging open the windows, Tris got a large gust of wind, rain, and hail in her
face. She pulled off her glasses very quickly, afraid
the hail might crush them and send glass shards into her eyes. She shielded her
face with her hand and looked out.
Storms!
They were everywhere! Nature was going insane, ripping out everything it had to
offer. Hail and lightning, rain, even a small amount of snow dotted the sky.
Shaking her head, as scared as she was confused, Tris realized the clouds were
rolling away from her. They seemed like they
were running from something. But why? Tris thought.
I've never felt nature itself be
afraid. Something's very wrong! The Dedicates – I must tell them what's
happening!
Before she left, Tris took a last glance out the window. The last thing she
saw, a cloud, blowing away from her, crackled its lightning. Suddenly, as if it
were a bird shot down by a hunter, the cloud began to fall through the sky,
plummeting to earth. The pieces of it spread and hit the ground, sending fog in
swirls over the land.
Tris
felt a warm tear run down her face. She had just witnessed the death of a
cloud. True, before she had seen clouds fade, but they never really died, only
changed into something new. But this cloud was dead, and it wasn't coming back.
The thought hurt Tris more than anything, and, slamming the windows, she
sniffled back her pain. She proceeded to run to the Dedicate Superior's room.
---
Briar stroked his shakkan. The raw energy that had once been
inside it was fading slowly. He feared it was dying. It felt even worse than
when Briar first had retrieved it from Dedicate Crane's greenhouse. A few
leaves fell off of the plant as he touched it. Briar quickly drew his hand
away, thinking he was the cause.
"Back to work, everyone!" called the overseer. Briar nodded and got
up from under a tree, where he spent most of his breaks tending his sick shakkan. He
headed over to his station and picked up his watering can. It was his duty to
water and give plant food to all the plants they were experimenting with in the
lab. He headed over to the water pump and began to fill it up. He was listening
to two of the workers at the pump discussing plans that the Dedicate Superior
had told everyone about.
"Dedicate Bramble says he's noticed many of the pots have cracks in them, so
he's ordering new ones," said the first, a short, tubby female.
"I've heard. Why are they all cracked though? We
handle the plants quite gently!" the second asked, a tan woman not much
older than Niko.
"He doesn't know. Maybe they're just getting too small since the plants have started growing bigger."
Briar filled his can, listening to the women, who were unaware that someone was
eavesdropping on them.
"Too small? Hmph. They look big enough to me. Maybe they're just bad quality.
My mum said you can't get the pottery pots from Traders. She says Traders are
all cheaters and liars from the day that they're born...."
Briar
grumbled under his breath, feeling protective of Daja's pride.
He
noticed now that his watering can had overflowed. He hadn't noticed because he'd
been listening to the women talk. Now he quickly shut off the water.
The first woman turned to Briar, snorting. "Didn't your momma tell you it's rude to listen in on other people's conversations?" she said, having heard Briar's grumbling.
Suddenly there was a great crash inside the building where they had been
working. It sounded in Briar's mind like screaming at the same time. Followed
by the crash was the sound of yelling, calling back and forth to each other,
and hushed whispers. Briar ran in with his watering can, followed by the
workers.
Gasping
as he entered, Briar dropped his watering can at the sight before him. The
plants had all burst from their pots. Broken pieces of pots lay all over the
ground, on the tables, even in some of the lab equipment. Briar figured the
pots must have broken explosively - a pair of workers held their hands over
their faces, wailing that the shards of pottery had hit them in the eye. One removed
their hands; Briar wished they hadn't, for the gore that was revealed wasn't
pretty. A few bottles of chemicals had been broken by flying pottery, and the
chemicals leaked onto the table. A few moments later, the mixed chemicals
exploded, causing more chaos.
Briar ran over to the nearest plant. It lay in a pile of dirt, broken pottery, and with a tab that was color-coded red. This was one of the plants that was the result of a breeding between the two tea-plants, as the red tab indicated.
Briar pushed aside some of the dirt around the base of the plant. He paled. The plants roots had swelled to an enormous size, had turned coal- black, and oozed pussy liquid. The swelled size of the roots, which had grown hard as rocks, had caused the plant to explode.
Rushing to another plant, he saw this one was coded blue. This had been a
result of a different sort of breeding between plants. The same hard, swelled roots
were present. Going from plant to plant, he saw the same instance between all.
From this, he came to the conclusion that this wasn't the result of an experiment-gone-wrong,
because it was the same with all the plants of all the different experiments.
It was something different, something worse, something very big.
Suddenly, he paled. My shakkan! he thought. Pushing through a crowd, Briar ran outside to
the tree where his shakkan
was. He fell to his knees, picking up the pieces of the broken pot that once
had housed his shakkan.
The plant itself lay in a pile of dirt, along with wire that had been used to hold
the branches in place. Briar noticed the metal wire, too, was amiss – the metal
was soft like gum, and it was sliding off the branches. Shaking his head and
focusing on the shakkan
itself, with shaky hands Briar fumbled for the plant roots. Sure enough, as he
had predicted, the shakkan's
roots had swelled and looked as if they were rotted.
Sniffling
back a worried tear, Briar focused on the larger tree under which he knelt. He
probed through the dirt with his mind, feeling for the tree roots. The earth
and the soil felt wrong under
him, as if it were being shifted out of place. When he finally came to the
roots, he could see why - the roots had swelled as had those of all the other
plants, soaking the soil with ooze and pushing the dirt out of place. Feeling
through all the nearby soil, Briar came to see that the roots of all the plants
had swollen up to the point of bursting. He wondered if they were like this
elsewhere.
No time for that! You have to tell
Bramble what's happening! Briar scolded himself. Cupping the delicate shakkan, Briar
made his way back to the lab center. Immediately, he ran through the crowds of
alarmed people, who were all sorting through plants, trying to assist more
bruised and beaten workers, dodging plants that were still exploding from their
pots, and trying to clean up the mess. An exploding pot knocked Briar on the
arm, causing a deep scratch, but Briar wasn't badly hurt and kept running.
He at last came to Honored Bramble, who was standing amidst the ruckus. In
hurried breaths, Briar rambled off his suspicions to the tall, lean Dedicate.
The
Dedicate nodded, hearing him out, and finally said, "I believe your conclusions
are correct. I was thinking the same thing myself."
"What are we going to do about it? Isn't there someone that could have stopped this, or that could keep it from happening again?"
"I'm not sure," said Honored Bramble muttered,
a far-away look in his eyes. Briar could have sworn it was one of fear. That scared him. The idea that even the
adults didn't know what to do was frightening enough. Briar shuddered as he
heard another pot bust open, gently tracing the leaves of his dying shakkan.
---
"This is fickle wool," said the common girl in the loom house, trying
to unravel a snarled spindle. Sandry sighed at helped her. She noticed that the
thread was trembling as the girl handled it. She shook her head, wondering why
the thread was doing as it was.
Suddenly there was a screeching halt. All the looms in the loom house froze,
the pieces of the loom screaming to a dead stop. Sandry covered her hands over
her ears, shielding from her hearing the sound. As soon as the great commotion
was over, the loom house workers rushed to the looms to see what the matter was.
"Snarled!" cried a worker. "All snarled!"
All the threads of the looms had snarled into one another, creating a great knotted
mess. Sandry knew that the disruption would take days to undo. One woman, a
thin, lanky, older spinner, reached into the beams of the looms to try and work
any of the thread loose. The thread suddenly jumped out at her, reaching out
with a hand made of fiber, gripping her and throwing her against the wall. She
fell, shuddering from the impact, though not badly hurt.
Sandry gasped. What was that? she thought. She watched the thread-hand recoil and lean out to strike another person, but it missed the nearby girl and rammed into a pole, sending threads all over the floor.
The thread is alive, thought Sandry.
Cautiously, she stepped forth and caught a falling thread in her hand. Alone,
she could see it was shaking, too.
She reached into it with her magical mind, feeling fear in its fibers. The thread is afraid? she pondered. Why is it afraid, and why did it lash out at those people?
Maybe it's trying to protect itself, she said in her mind. But what from? Releasing the
thread, she let it fall lifeless.
Lark! she screamed in her mind. Daja! Tris! Briar! Something is wrong with nature itself! You must help me! She knew, though, her cry was not heard.
---
From Niklaren Goldeye, Winding Circle Temple, Emelan,
to Briar Moss, Earth-temple, Stepping Stone Islands; Tris Chandler, Growing
Circle Temple, Ninver; Lady Sandreliene
fa Toren, Summersea, Emelan; Daja Kisubo, Hajra, Sotat:
Dear Tris, Briar, Daja, and Sandry:
You might have figured out that something is very wrong with the land, with the earth, with nature. Storms have gone insane all over, thrashing about. Plants are sick and dying. Metal has grown soft and weak. Thread is impossible to work with. At this rate, if something is not done to stop this, the earth will tear itself apart.
Unfortunately, here at Winding Circle, we don't have all the
answers. All we know - all we guess - is that man has done this to nature, as
in nature, this sort of thing has never before occurred. We know not if a
single character, a group, or all mankind in general has provoked nature to
turn on us. But we do know that we will do anything we can to stop it.
Children, the time has come for you to come home. You are now needed more than
ever to come back and help rid us of this misfortunate turn of events that is
breaking the world up.
Take
the next horse cart, boat ride, or what have you to get here. We meet in the
next few days. See to it.
---
AN: I changed Briar's accent. First of all, you don't have an accent if you write a letter… especially not such an awful accent, like there was before.