Things became somewhat better now that Niko had returned. Of course, he was still not his usual self; his cough still did plague him, and his skills as a mage were somewhat depleted from their usual caliber. Still, it became more of a psychological comfort that he had returned, safe and sound.
Niko was very pleased at the work of his young mages. Their commitment to their role in the world of mages, as partakers in the grand exercise, was evident.
Niko did not know how long he would stay. His presence had been requested at several other locations, to help with various small or large tasks. Lark insisted that he not leave yet; his health was not at its best, and his being at Winding Circle really did inspire the rest of them in the temple city. Niko gave in to her with the secret intention of being away before another month had passed. In the meantime, he drank a great deal of Rosethorn's tea; as delicious as it was, he began to hate it.
---
In contrast, Sandry was quite upset at the fact that Raeldro was gone. Though she knew that he had left for good reasons – one reason which she approved of immensely – it still pained her to not see him. Weeks had passed, and, having picked up some maternal intuition from Lark, she worried about him.
She was tempted to send a care package to him at Duke Vedris' castle; however, the idea soon became unappealing to her. Sandry did not want to appear overly attached to Raeldro, and it might be awkward for Duke Vedris to have to deliver a lovely little package from his niece to her love.
She spent a long time, while she laid in bed at night, tracing the curve of the letter "R" that hung from the ribbon on her wrist. The sway of it was elegant, and she was sure that it had cost him a substantial amount of money, for it shone with a radiance that she had rarely seen on metals before.
Sandry dreamed at night of it, melting in her hands, as the cap of Daja's staff had done. But in the morning, there was never anything to fear, as it was perfectly normal. She meant to ask Daja if there was a special reason that it had not melted, but she kept forgetting to ask.
Still, Sandry figured that it was Raeldro-like to give her a very fine, permanent piece of jewelry.
---
Daja did not spend nearly as much time thinking about Kirel as Sandry pined over Raeldro. Perhaps it was because Kirel was attainable, near her at the time, whereas Raeldro was far away from Sandry. At the same time, it was very unlike Daja to swoon over a boy. She was much more independent than that, and she felt no need to long after Kirel when she had more important things to do.
Regardless, Daja did care about Kirel immensely. She did not know if she loved him or not; she could not distinguish love from the feeling of intense brotherhood that she felt with Kirel. It was different than her relationship with Briar; she loved Briar and cared about him briefly, but Briar did not invoke passion in her. Briar made her laugh, made her scowl. Kirel made her heart leap, made her skin sizzle.
There were things that she had with Briar that Kirel could never touch on. Briar knew, as a former thief, the feeling of being an outcast, unwanted and never trusted. As a Trader, Daja experienced a similar sort of terrible prejudice. Daja and Briar were both rough sorts of people, similar to Tris, except for more so. Daja would never be caught dead in any sort of dress; neither would Briar, for that matter. The Daja of the past would have been shy to admit that she was friends with non-Traders; now, she held a pride in the fact that her best friends consisted of a noble, an ex-thief, and even a hated merchant. But she was still a Trader, and she loved that. Briar would never admit to the fact that he loved his life as it was, padded at all the corners.
Yet, at the same time, Kirel and Daja had certain things between them, certain moments, that Briar could not invade, either. Briar did not know the feel of metal underneath her hands, that hotness. Kirel knew that; she amazed him, still, with the fact that she could touch red-hot iron and not be burned. Still, Kirel understood the feeling of bending metal, of working it, of loving it. He knew how to work the bellows with those strong arms of his. They had the shared experience of Frostpine; and, yes, though he was a man, Frostpine was an experience.
There was one more thing: Daja had never felt attracted to Briar. When she had first seen him a few months ago, after three years, she had thought that he looked a great deal more handsome. But she had never dreamed of sexual relations with him. That was ridiculous. Kirel – well, she had dreamed of him. Her dreams had become reality, too, and she had liked that.
She had liked that a lot.
Did she love Kirel? She knew that she loved him about as much as an 18-year-old could love another, which was saying a great deal, especially for Daja.
---
Aside from all that, Daja knew that Briar was far more preoccupied with a certain "Coppercurls," as he affectionately called her.
Sandry and Daja often wondered from a distance about that relationship, that blooming romance. They were, of course, too fearful of the wrath of Tris to ask any questions; they also knew that if they asked Briar, he would certainly start teasing them and asking them questions. And this would not do.
Often enough, Sandry and Daja would often talk and speculate about things between Briar and Tris.
"I would suppose they aren't very romantic," Sandry said one day to Daja as they fished water from the well. "I can't imagine Briar as being any sort of romantic, and I don't think Tris would appreciate it, either."
Daja set down her bucket. "Well, I imagine that they are passionate; perhaps they aren't in that flowery sort of way, but as people, they both can be very emotional."
"Tris is not emotional," argued Sandry as she lowered her bucket down, down into the well.
Daja laughed. "Of course she is. And so are you. But you're both emotional in different senses. Saati, you're more likely to cry or laugh or giggle; you are also very, very stubborn. Tris keeps her emotion in her anger a great deal more. But the one thing that's the same is that you're both emotional about those around you. You are attached strongly to Raeldro, for example. But think about Tris and how she feels about Niko, how much he is a father to her. When she heard about him being ill – she was so paralyzed with fear. That was emotional, too. And I would guess that she's the same way about Briar."
"I suppose you're right; but I still can't see Tris in a fit of passion," remarked Sandry. "Nor do I really want to think about it."
"Perhaps Briar brings it out in her," said Daja with a smirk.
"Oh, stop!" Sandry said with a laugh. "Are we done here?"
Daja nodded, and they made their way back to Discipline. They shivered a bit; it was not a cold day, but the air was filled with shadows as clouds moved rapidly across the path of the sun. When they arrived back at their home, there was a note on the table for Sandry. Tris sat there as well, writing the names of constellations in a book of hers.
"Messenger birds brought that in for you while you were gone," Tris commented, hardly looking up.
"Oh!" Sandry exclaimed. She opened the letter and perused it rapidly.
"Where's Briar?" Daja asked Tris. "He's supposed to make the next meal with me in two hours."
"He went with Rosethorn to make solutions for bandages, again," Tris remarked. "But he said he would go to Gorse and be back in time."
"He had better be," Daja said.
"Raeldro has come back!" Sandry exclaimed, flapping the letter and dancing around the kitchen. "He wants me to go meet him at noon at the seawall!"
"Well, you had better hurry up," Tris said. The Hub bell, as if on cue, struck noon.
Sandry made a grimacing face. "I'm going to be late," she cried. She went to the door but then paused. "I have to go wash clothes still," she said, looking at the pail of water that she had just brought in.
"Go ahead," Daja said encouragingly. "I'll take care of it."
"Are you sure?" Sandry asked, remembering the last time she had left a chore unfinished to be with Raeldro.
"I'm positive. Would I deny you your heart's desire over a few unwashed bed sheets?" Daja said with a smile. "Hurry up! You're going to be very late."
"Alright – but if I don't come back in time for bread and pasta, come looking for me!" Sandry said, rushing out the door in a whirl.
Sandry whisked past gardens and cottages, the tans and browns and greens melting together in a messy whiz. Holding her pale cream dress above the dirt to avoid tripping on it, the young woman ran past the woods. She noted the familiar smell that the woods had; she knew Raeldro liked it, just as she did.
She came to the seawall. She could smell the salt, which Tris and Daja liked so much; she could feel the breeze as it chilled her. Smiling and panting, Sandry plopped herself down there, leaning against a pillar of stone. She wiped her forehead, moist with her sweat, and she waited.
"I wore myself out," giggled Sandry to herself giddily as she fell back onto the rock of the wall. She felt very tired. It hadn't been a very exhausting day, but she was so weary suddenly. Why was that? She had done a lot of running, but she felt like she could just fall asleep. Of course, that wouldn't do! Raeldro was coming to see her.
And, yet, she was so tired. She figured that a little nap would do no harm until he came, and her eyes fluttered closed.
---
When Sandry woke, she knew immediately that she was no longer at the seawall. The air smelled of incense and coldness. Her back rested on wood rather than on stone.
She sat up, and gasped. This was certainly not the seawall. She was in a large temple; it was about three times the size of Discipline, with numerous wooden benches scattered across the expanse of it. The black and tan walls, alternating, glistened with a polished sheen. Square pillars, colored like sand and coal, rose from the floor to the ceiling. There were at least 20 of these pillars, randomly scattered through the temple. There seemed to be no doors, no windows, only multitudes of candles all over the floor that still left the ceiling and corners deep in shadow. Upon closer examination, she could see that every surface – the walls, floor, ceiling, and pillars – all had words written on them in a language she did not understand.
She was on a wooden bench, she noted. Sandry made to stand up and look around; she soon came to realize that her hands were tied behind her back, and her feet were tied to the leg of a bench.
It was then that Sandry grew incredibly afraid.
Her immediate thought was how to escape; this came foremost before the thought of how she had gotten here. She could see the ropes binding her were made of cord. Perhaps I can unravel them, she thought with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. It was no use, however. She thought of, imagined, pushed her magic into the threads to undo them, but nothing worked. Upon giving the ropes a second glance, she noted that they were coated with silver, a sign that they had been magically tampered with so that they could not undo.
She swore strongly, perhaps more strongly than she ever had. Help, she thought.
Voices answered her. Sandry? What's wrong? Daja asked.
You sound afraid, Tris thought to her. Where are you? I thought you went to go meet Raeldro.
I did, Sandry replied. Only – I don't know where he is. I don't know where I am!
She stopped; she heard something creak. A piece of the wall opened up; Raeldro entered, draped in black robes, with his hazel eyes glistening with a multitude of emotions. He advanced towards her, and the robes he wore fanned out like the wings of a crow, and he looked down his slender nose at her.
"Raeldro?" she asked, relieved and disbelieving. The look on her face was bewildered, frightened.
"Yes," he said coolly. "It's me." Something about him looked sterile to her. She did not like his tone.
"Raeldro!" she cried. "Someone's tied me up here; please, undo these knots, and let's get out of here." As if to verify that, she fidgeted against the thick ropes that bound her. Her heart thundered like a train going over railroad tracks, and the look in his face was unlike any she had ever seen before. He always had a tendency to look distant at times, sometimes emotionless, but this was worse than that. This was cold and senseless, careless.
He was silent. "Untie me, Raeldro, please!"
"I will not," he said calmly. "Do you still not suspect me of wrongdoing, Lady Sandry, after so many coincidences, after all this? I am here not as a rescuer, but to finish what I have started." The earth shifted under his feet, anxious.
Suddenly, Sandry knew: Raeldro had been responsible all along for the trouble with the earth. All of Tris's suspicions rang in her head, and fear devoured her. Sandry didn't know what to do, what to say, how to feel; she felt her entire self trembling, and her stomach roared ferociously. She wanted to vomit. She choked on her words, nearly heaving.
"How did--?" she began to say.
He sat down again. "Shall I tell you everything? Do you really want to know?" he asked her with a semblance of tenderness. Sandry, confused by him, nodded.
He gave a cocky smile. "I'm glad. I have wanted to brag to someone, to tell them of my master plan. It doesn't matter if you know, because you will be dead soon enough," he said.
Rage built up inside of her. She was now certain how she ought to feel, having heard the tone and lack of care in his voice. She knew only a strong anger against this man, her supposed lover. How could he be so cruel, so heartless as to do this to the planet? How could he be so two-faced? How could I not have known?
"And you won't be?" Sandry snapped.
"It has been a long time that I have been stealing the earth's power; it seems to never end, to always rejuvenate. But I have become hasty; I will succumb to admit that. It does not matter, though, if the world ends. I will still be around," he told her.
"Impossible. What do you think you are, a god?" she snapped at him.
Raeldro laughed, throwing back his head. "How ironic it is, dearest Duchess!" he replied. "No, I am not a god – not yet. But in a matter of time, in a matter of hours, I will be. This earth will explode, but I will be untouchable, unstoppable."
Horrified, Sandry shrank back from him. "Is that what this is all about? You've been stealing the earth's power to make yourself a god?"
"What else could it be? I am the most powerful mage on this planet, Duchess! But – what about in 100 years? A man cannot live forever; his power will fade, and he will become nothing. But I – oh, I will not become nothing. If I were to become a god, my power would reign eternally. I will never die; I will enjoy the pleasures of this existence forever." Suddenly angry, he gripped her by the shoulder, pulling her closer to him.
"Aren't you afraid to die, Lady Sandry? Aren't you afraid that one day, no one will remember you?" He let her go, pushing her away, and he stood. "I have made a great name for myself. But I want no one to forget it; and the names that are never forgotten are the names of the gods."
"You're completely insane!" screamed Sandry. "You've lost your mind completely!"
Raeldro gave her a sideways smile, which was the most frightening thing he had done so far. "I know."
Sandry thrashed against her bonds. "If you kill everyone, there won't be anyone to remember you! Did you ever think of that?"
Raeldro looked at her pensively. "I will make people to remember me, to worship me. I'll be a god! I can make planets at will, bring this earth back to life, all fresh and new – isn't that a beautiful thing, Sandry? I'll make it be perfect."
"No," Sandry whispered, still shaking. "You might become a god. But some things are even out of control of the gods. Everyone knows that."
"Not me," insisted Raeldro. "I have all the power. I'll be in control of everything – how can you deny the power that I have, Sandry? I've already won. I have nearly all the power that I want."
Sandry, furious and likewise terrified, made a loud scream that echoed off the walls, and then she burst into tears. "You've done everything, haven't you? You killed Gazelle, you stole the opal, you made Niko ill, you killed the guard and dedicate at Winding Circle – you've stolen everything from the earth all along!" she sobbed weakly.
Raeldro stretched his arms up, unaffected. "You forgot one thing. I also framed Woodberry. It was true that she was using sap spells, but she wasn't draining from the earth's power. She was using them to try and rebalance the magics in her daughter. All I had to do was to put some of the earth's magic into the sap cases and into Lilith, and the deed was done."
"You're a monster," she gasped. "You killed them both! And you make it sound like it was easy."
The dark mage glanced at her. "Sandry, you are so blind to the usefulness of power like yours and like mine. When you are Raeldro Earthkin, enemies are like insects, easily crushable. You don't know half of what I do – but mages like us can make a person's heart explode. We can telepathically move knives into their stomachs. We can constrict their airways with little more than a thread. Killing Gazelle was so easy, and the guard and dedicate, too. The dedicate put up a great deal of a fight, though."
Raeldro sighed and continued. "I would have killed Niko, too, but it would have been far too suspicious. He was wary of me; he knew I was hiding something. But he's out of commission now."
Sandry looked away from him. "I cannot believe I trusted you," she whispered
Raeldro smiled. "That was part of the plan." Sandry's eyes widened.
Raeldro leaned back. "When I first met the four of you, I knew of your power. I knew that you had a special link to the earth. It intrigued me. I knew it would be vital to befriend one of you, then use you for your link to the earth. But when I met you, Duchess, I knew that I had become lucky. You were not only one of the four, but you were passionate and convincing. I knew you would be able to keep the others on task, giving power to the earth so that I could steal it."
"You used me." Her statement was blunt; she felt as though her entire body had gone cold.
"Of course I did. At once you fell in love with me, I figured that pretending to be in love with you, too, would immensely help my chances of getting what I wanted from you." He laughed. "Do you not see why you were vital? You made Tris, the doubter, agree to work with me. You kept your own faith, thanks to the visions I gave you, and you poured your all into the earth. You were incredibly important."
Sandry had never been so angry in her life. She felt her face going red, her power raging inside of her like a storm.
Raeldro saw her discomfort. He put his hands in her hair; she cried out and pulled away from him. "I hate you," she said with a sincerity that surprised even her. "I hate you so much."
"That's a pity. I care for you. I have always needed you. How could I have done this without you?" Raeldro said. He smiled at her with affection, but the smile was like one you would greet a pet or a smile child with.
"You never loved me, did you?" Sandry asked.
"I did love you, in a way. I loved the fact that you gave me power, that you gave me a chance to win at this." His voice was unsympathetic. "I simply cannot believe you actually did love me." His laugh was hysterical.
"What do you want now, then? Haven't you used me enough? Haven't you played with me enough yet? You've ruined my planet, hurt my friends and my family – you've done everything that you could to destroy me. What do you want from me now?" Sandry yelled at him, tears running down her face.
Raeldro chuckled. "You are a very special young lady. You have a link to the earth. You do not know exactly how you could use such a link, Sandry. But I – I know how it could be used. If I had it, I could drain the rest of the earth's power from earth all at once. That would give me just enough time to use the spell, written on these walls, and achieve immortality before this earth slips violently into oblivion," he explained. Sandry indeed did look at the walls; was that why she had been taken here, to the place with the key to immortality?
Raeldro continued, "If I drained the last of the earth's energy as I have before, by going down to the earth's core, I would not have time to come back from the earth's core and then perform the spell. The earth would destroy itself before I could finish what I need to. But, because of your link, I can make the earth's power come from the core to me – I will have just enough time with your link."
Sandry watched him stand with an aching need to do the same, to flee. He said, finally, "I have always needed you, Sandry. I need your link to the earth. I need to use it for my purposes."
"I will not give it to you! If I even knew how to do it, I never would!" Sandry told him with ferocity in her eyes.
Raeldro smiled at her. "Then I shall take it. It will be easy to do; the cuts on her hands have surely reopened. All I need is a drop of your blood to link me to your magic – to link me to the earth."
Sandry watched as he leaned closer to her. His hand fumbled in his robe. From around his neck, he pulled a huge, thick black opal off. It hung on a silver chain, elaborate with designs of creatures and ancient languages. It was beautiful, Sandry had to admit. "Even I cannot hold the power of the earth's core alone." He stared at the opal with a sort of admiration.
"The power I drain will go here. Finally, quickly, I will break the opal into an elixir which I have made, following the detailed instructions on these walls. It involves all sorts of interesting things – feathers of mythical creatures, pieces of gold and silver, gems from the Namorn Empire, the salt of the rocks of the Stepping Stone Islands. I spent a great deal of time preparing it while I was away in Emelan; and, no, Lady Sandry, I never announced us in court."
"So then you will become immortal," Sandry finished for him. "You will be remembered with hate alone, Raeldro. No one will worship you."
"That is what you like to think," Raeldro warned her.
"Niko knows, doesn't he? He will warn the others about you; they will come to get you, even if you kill me," Sandry shot back.
"There is not time! Don't you see? The earth is growing weaker and weaker as we speak. It is on the breaking point; I have done that purposefully. All I must do is to tap it the other way, and everything will begin to go under. Everything will end for you." He gave her a final smile. "Give me your hands now."
It was then that Sandry did something drastic.
---
Daja was at the forge, alone now. Once she had heard Sandry's cry for help in her mind, she had rushed to the seawall to find her. She had not found her noble friend, of course. She had then rushed to Frostpine's forge, thinking that he had perhaps seen her, as the forge was somewhat near the seawall. When she had entered, she had only found a note from Frostpine, saying that he had gone to get food from Gorse. Kirel was nowhere to be seen.
Terrified for Sandry's sake, she went to leave the forge and inform Moonstream. Her hand was on the doorknob when a scream and vision invaded her mind. It was the voice of Sandry.
Raeldro is responsible for everything! A million pieces of information flooded Daja's brain; she knew everything that Raeldro had done, everything that he had told Sandry. It was as though Sandry had given a piece of her mind to Daja. Tall stone and sand pillars loomed in front of her. She saw Raeldro, robed in shimmering black. He held the opal in his hand, and candles lit his face. Daja saw Niko, coughing up blood in front of her. She saw the earth's core, shrunken and withering. She saw metals melting in her hands.
You must come to me. He's going to kill us all, now, if we don't do something.
Daja felt herself ripped from her own body, which fell to its knees on the floor of the forge.
---
Briar, too, had heard Sandry's plea inside his mind. He had heard it as he was getting food from Dedicate Gorse. Never before had he wanted the man to move more quickly; Briar had shoved the food in his basket and ran off up the stairs of the Hub. Now, he entered Moonstream's office at the protest of a number of dedicates.
"Honored Moonstream," he began to say, setting down his basket. The last thing he saw was a glass case, glimmering silver on a desk. Suddenly, he collapsed to his knees, his hands over his ears; Sandry's voice cried out in his mind, and images came to him.
Raeldro is the one who has been destroying the earth. Briar instantly received all the information that Sandry had received from Raeldro, and the shock of it made him reel. Briar saw the images of Raeldro, dressed in black, bearing the opal. He saw his shakkan, treasured as it was, withering, falling, bending wrongly, its roots swathed in mysterious sores. He saw the way that Rosie had come into Discipline with a tear on her face after the great oak had fallen.
We have to do something, or this is the end for all of us. He intends to do something right now!
Moonstream ran to catch the body of Briar, knocking the apples from the basket all over the floor. One word escaped his lips as his magical self passed out of it: "Raeldro."
Moonstream's eyes rose steadily. "He's left," she said solemnly.
---
Tris was in her room, reading. Briar and Daja had left, searching for Sandry; Tris had decided to stay and let Lark, Niko, and Rosethorn know what had happened when they came for the next meal. She was trying to keep from thinking about it by reading, but nothing seemed to shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her. She knew that something was desperately wrong.
She heard the door open. Tris was, for the only time in her life, disappointed to hear Lark's voice. She had been foolishly hoping that maybe Sandry would enter, well and alive, at any moment. "Is anyone here?" Lark cried.
Tris made to stand up, but her book fell, and her legs buckled under her as Sandry invaded her mind.
You were right all along. It was Raeldro. Everything that Sandry had heard from Raeldro flooded Tris's mind. She boiled with anger and disgust. Tris, too, saw Raeldro's face, eerie, mysterious, haunting. Her heart leapt to see the opal shimmering within his palm. She saw, as if for the first time, the cloud falling from the sky to break, and the dimness of the stars at night.
Come with me and let's stop him, before it's too late.
Tris felt herself falling away; she saw her own body, lying on the floor, for a brief instant before something yanked her away.
---
It wasn't long before Sandry has realized what she had done. She had ripped her hand forcefully out of the knot on her wrists; as a result, her fingers were bleeding rapidly, and she had shaved off several layers of skin. With that bloody hand, she had grabbed the pouch around her neck, reached for the thread circle, and pulled.
Raeldro advanced upon her. "You're making this very easy for me. You give me a big splash of your blood, rather than a drop." His eyes were disgustingly hungry upon her.
"Get away," she hissed, pulling her bleeding hand away from him. She was so livid that the threads on her clothing began to snake out of their weave.
He slapped her viciously and grabbed her wounded hand. Her blood was all over his fingers. "At last," he said. "All I need to do is to go through your magic, touch that core to sip of its wealth." His eyes closed in concentration; Sandry was helpless, watching, sobbing from the pain in her hand and the feeling of guilt that plagued her. It seemed that he had triumphed; a silver tint came upon the opal. Sandry knew he had just touched upon the link that she had.
Suddenly, he screamed, flailing his hands. The blood on him burned; it seemed to evaporate, leaving his hands bare. Sandry could see that there were now scars where the blood had been.
I made the iron in her blood very, very hot, said a voice. Could you tell, Raeldro? Sandry whirled and gasped. Before her there floated three figures.
The first was the one who had spoken. It was Daja's magical self; she, somehow, looked more mature, older, like the woman she would someday become. She looked like a bronze-red specter, standing tall and clothed in rich Trader garb, her staff in her hand, capped and all. The muscles of her blacksmith's arms moved with their strength shining through. Her smile was confident and her braids were long. Her one hand was pointing towards Raeldro, having just used her magic on him.
Tris was there, too, blue-tinted like a dark sea. Her glasses were gone and her curls, long and flowing, whipped around her head in a nonexistent wind. A dress billowed, as though in a salty breeze, and a cape rose behind her as though it had a life of its own. Her freckles seemed to have faded, while her cheekbones had become more defined. Charms for good weather chimed around her neck, and the look in her eyes reflected Runog's Fire.
Briar's magical self was a pine-green, looking more like a man than ever before, tall with slanting, narrowed eyes. He was dressed with tall leather boots, a thick linen shirt, worn, dark pants. He wore knives all around his waist and on the outsides of his boots; he bent to retrieve one. He looked powerful, stately, sturdy, intimidating. A small pouch containing seeds hung from his left hip, and the black crosses on his hands were stretched out with age.
C'mon, Bag. Come out and play with us, chided the man-sized image of Briar. Sandry nodded her head. Alone, she could not face Raeldro. But, with the other three, she thought that there was maybe a chance. Sandry wiped the blood onto her dress to be certain that Raeldro could not use it against her.
She slipped out of herself, and her body went limp. Sandry saw her new, golden magical self; she was dressed in wealthy noble clothes of fine threads and many colors, and her hair was long and flowing around her. Slung over her shoulder was a bag of threads, needles, spindles, and even the precious thread-circle itself. She wore expensive jewelry and her face was matured. She felt her own power; she felt that she had come with a purpose to serve. She felt angry and ready.
She had loved Raeldro; this much was true. But she was angry at him. That anger took over her; she would not allow herself to feel sorry for herself now. That time would come later, if she was lucky enough to survive. She focused, drawing distracting thoughts out of her head like pulling a thread out of the eye of a needle.
"I can play this game, too," Raeldro replied. His magical body collapsed with a sickening thud and from it sprang his magical self, which somehow looked a great deal uglier than his bodily self. Do you mean to fight me, little ones? Raeldro asked mockingly.
There was a great tremble underneath them all. The ceiling began to crack. They could each feel the earth underneath them, moaning as though it had a dreadful stomachache.
Look what you've done! Now the earth has been pushed over the limit before I received all the power I needed! Raeldro said furiously. His magical self pulled the opal off of his body; he also took a small vial, which they assumed to be his magical elixir. You leave me no choice but to do this the hard way. He vanished from their sight.
He's going to the center of the earth to get the last bit of power that he can, warned Tris angrily. We have to go after him.
I don't know how to get there exactly, Sandry thought to the others.
Briar shook his head. It can't be that hard. We just go deep, don't we? As deep as we can go must be where the core is.
They dove, somehow sliding through the marble tiles of the floor. They went deep, through foundation, through shifting rocks, through fossils, through eons and eons of history covered by the dirt of today. It was frightening; they could see the earth shifting, and they could feel its tension. They could feel it, wanting to crack.
It wasn't very long until they reached the earth's core. They saw Raeldro's magical self, glittering white. He had on several opal rings; Sandry had not noticed this before. He was using them to draw out energy from the earth's core. They drew back before he saw them. Sandry, as quickly as she would, drew a cloth out of her bag. Spelling it as she had learned to do with Adrienna, she spelled it for invisibility and draped it over them.
So that's how he was doing it all along, even before he stole Gazelle's opal, Tris remarked.
He's not going to be able to do it, though. He needs to be able to read the spell up in the temple first; there won't be time to take the earth's energy and then to get back to the surface in time to perform his spell, Daja reminded them.
Tris's eyes widened. No – wait. This is what he's doing. Look – he didn't take all the earth's energy! He left just enough so that he can get back to the surface. This was true; there was still a tiny ball, the size of a baby's fist, left in the middle of the great, empty core.
But he still doesn't have enough energy, Briar protested.
Sandry trembled. He's going to use my blood again! We have to stop him!
No, he won't. He knows I'll burn him again before he can get any energy, Daja argued.
Tris paused. Where else could he get energy from, then?
It hit Sandry like a punch in the face. Woodberry – he put some of the earth's magic in the sap cases that she used. That's the only place, aside from Lilith's body, and she's probably dead by now.
But Woodberry was at Stone Circle Temple. He won't make it there in time, even though he did leave some magic left, Briar protested.
Tris interrupted. They wouldn't have left the sap cases there. That would have been stupid. They probably didn't dispose of them either.
Briar gasped. The last thing he saw was a glass case, glimmering silver on a desk. Moonstream has one. It's in her office, in the Hub. I saw it, right before I left my body. Raeldro will go there next, won't he?
It's his last hope, Daja remarked. How do we get there from here?
They saw him move; he was finishing up what he was doing.
We go up, Sandry said. Briar, feel for your shakkan. Feel where it's located. If we can locate it, we can locate Discipline, and we can locate the Hub.
Briar was quiet for a moment. He let his roots stretch out; he felt for its dying self on the windowsill in his room. He could sense it, calling to him, desiring water, food, sunshine. This was strange, being that he had left it in the sun.
This way, he told them, pointing. Still cloaked together, they went for the surface.
---
Frostpine entered the forge. He saw nothing out of the ordinary and made to put away a few tools that he had left out. He whistled a familiar, homely tune. He noticed that the note he had left for Daja was not there anymore, and he presumed that perhaps she had come by and taken it with her.
It was then that he saw Daja on the floor, the note crumpled in her hand, her eyes wide open.
---
Frostpine and Kirel were headed towards the Hub, carrying between them the limp form of Daja. Frostpine was hurriedly trying to explain what had happened.
"She was on the floor, I tell you! Just like that!" Frostpine insisted. Suddenly there was a huge rumbling noise.
"An earthquake," hissed Kirel. His legs trembled as the earth underneath them rumbled dangerously. They heard the crack of a falling tree, some rubble slamming to the earth. The tiles of the winding road beneath their feet buckled up like the plates of the earth themselves.
There was a scream. Frostpine looked up; the sun had become thick with clouds, and all light vanished with a suddenness that startled the dedicate and his apprentice. Rain, at first soft, tickled Frostpine's bare head. The sensation became less comfortable as the rain become vicious and hail began to fall.
They reached the Hub with a soaking wet, pitiful Daja. Moonstream was there; two dedicates near her were rushing out of the Hub door, holding a similarly still Briar. She greeted them with a serious face. "So, the end is coming for us," she said in a tight voice.
"It's not over until it's over," argued Frostpine. "Where are you taking the boy?"
"To Discipline," remarked a dedicate carrying Briar. "Dedicate Lark just went over there; she'll take care of them."
Through the rain they moved, a solemn procession bearing the two young mages. Frostpine winced when a ball of ice struck him on the top of his skull, and Kirel did not appreciate the fact that his white habit soaked through left him quite exposed. Moonstream's stride was purposeful, but the others could tell that she was not herself lacking in fear.
Lark was there at the gate to meet them. She swung open the door. "I knew that they would all be like this," she said hurriedly. "I found Tris upstairs fifteen minutes ago, looking the same way, all frozen, as though in a trance. I think they've left their bodies." She ushered them into the kitchen; she had made four mats on the floor, using their mattresses, and the table was pushed into the corner of the room with the stool piled on top. Tris was on one of the mats; her eyes were opened and blue-gray, somewhat glazed over.
Briar and Daja were both put on mats. "And Sandry?" asked Moonstream. "Where is she?"
Lark pulled a letter from her apron full of needles and thread. "This was on the table when I came in," she said. "She went to go meet Raeldro Earthkin at the seawall; I do believe they'd been having a bit of a romance. But that was hours ago. She never came back."
"I didn't think that Raeldro Earthkin was expected back for another week," protested Frostpine.
"He wasn't," Moonstream agreed. "But this is his handwriting."
"Some very foul play is afoot," Lark said, wringing her hands together. "And I don't want to suspect Raeldro – but, who else does the evidence point to?"
The door swung open, and Niko stood there, soaking wet and illuminated by a flash of lightning. "Word has it that someone broke into the Unread Script Temple," he told them. "That's what the last messenger bird said. Of course, with this weather, I don't think that there will be any more messenger birds for a while."
Lark went forward. "Did they say who it was?"
Niko had an emotionless face. "A man with dark hair," he replied. There was a pause. "Whoever it was broke in and has warded the whole thing so that no one can physically get in or out without being shocked."
"What do you propose we do?" Moonstream asked. "Something – or someone – very important must be being kept there."
Niko turned his back to them. "I'm going," he said.
Lark ran out after him, the rain running across her head and under the collar of her shirt. "Niko, you can't go," she protested. "There have been earthquakes. You'll never make it!"
Niko did not stop to look at her, but instead he mounted an anxious horse that he had tied to the gate. "I have to try!" he cried over a crash of thunder. "I have seen many things, Lark – but, in one of those visions, I saw Sandry there, dead. I must try." With that he whirled away on his horse and galloped into the fog.
Inside, Kirel asked Moonstream, "What is the Unread Script Temple?"
Moonstream bowed her head. "It is ancient; it is so old that we do not know when it dates back to. It cannot be destroyed. It is also forbidden, for its walls have writings which contain the key to three great powers – eternal life, eternal knowledge, and eternal strength."
"Immortality," gasped Kirel. Before he could ask another question, the ground rumbled again, and they braced themselves for a second earthquake.
---
Raeldro found Moonstream's office to be empty. He smiled grimly as he entered the window. I am so close, he thought to himself. He saw it, glittering with the earth's magic, on the desk in the corner of the room. It was there with numerous other things; there were charts with constellations, diagrams of wind patterns, lists of plant types, globes and wind-catching instruments and thermometers. He could reach out and touch it, almost—
He felt something wrap around his leg. He twisted in its grasp; someone was throwing magical seeds on to the floor. They sprouted, gripping on to the tiles. These were truly magic beanstalks, made purely of the earth's own magic. The tendrils clawed out with thorns at Raeldro. Furiously, he kicked them off.
Who's there? Raeldro asked into the emptiness.
He heard the swishing of fabric. Sandry pulled off the invisibility cloak that had been keeping them hidden in the corner. She dropped it to the floor. Briar put the remainder of his seeds back into his pocket.
I thought I had lost you, remarked Raeldro. It doesn't matter, though. I can lose you now. Angrily, he summoned his power; he felt it collecting in his hand like a ball of needles. He hurled it at them, causing the papers on Moonstream's desk to flutter to the floor.
Tris tugged a wind from the window. It was wily, afraid of her, unwilling to be tamed. Do you trust me? Tris thought to that piece of wind. You must trust me. He will destroy this earth if you do not cooperate. Coaxed into submission, the wind bent at Tris's will, making that ball of energy blow away from the four.
Raeldro, even angrier, tried another globe of energy, followed by another. Each time, Tris managed to avoid them by using that piece of wind. Sandry even managed to use a string to capture Raeldro's ball of energy. She shot it back at him like you would do with a slingshot, but he managed to avoid it.
Shall we throw things at each other all day? Raeldro teased. There is not time for this. The world will explode, soon enough. I left only enough energy in the earth's core to stall for enough time to get back to the temple and perform the spell.
Impatiently, perhaps using more energy than he could afford to, Raeldro summoned power from all around him; it rose as silver from his clothes, a great wall of power, huge and intimidating. It was like the seawall, which nothing could pass through.
Surrender! There is no way that you can beat me, he shot at them. It was more of a challenge than a threat. Some force rippled over him, huge, tearing at his clothes.
Sandry rooted through her bag. Out she pulled the thread-circle, lumped four times, imperfect and still perfect. She held it before her like the only barrier that she had against his white wall.
Is this what you threaten me with? Raeldro asked. A loop of thread?
Sandry thought of what he had done to her. She felt the earth surrender to yet another quake; she felt the Hub itself wobbling weakly as its metals and woods weakened. She thought of his laughing face, how he had said that he didn't love her. She felt fury building up inside of her.
Briar, Tris, and Daja brought their hands forward, each likewise gripping the thread circle at the appropriate place.
This had better work, Sandry thought.
---
Niko flung himself off of his horse. He had reached Unread Script Temple, not far from Winding Circle. Outside of the door, two soldiers and three dedicates stood, trying numerous spells to open the doorway.
"Master Niklaren," one said. He did not even bow; there was not time for formalities. "We cannot get in, not at all."
Niko tied his horse to what looked like a sturdy tree. "The only way you can ward a building this strongly is with blood," he told them. Through the wet brush surrounding the temple, he went to the other side of where the main door was. He could smell the scent of decay. The dedicates followed; the soldiers watched the door.
He could smell blood; he could see dark drops of it as he walked past the temple walls, though the blood was hard to see with the rain coming down. Niko pushed through a bush, then stepped away. The body of a young girl was lying there, her eyes closed, bound and gagged. The dedicates all went extremely pale; one fled to go vomit.
"Who is it?" asked one of the other dedicates.
Niko could not tell how he knew. "Her name is Lilith," he said.
"Woodberry's daughter?" the second dedicate gasped. "I thought she was – dying, alone, off at Lightsbridge."
"Looks as though someone kidnapped her and killed her," Niko said. "And then they used her blood to ward the temple."
"That's disgusting," the first dedicate said.
"It makes sense, though. She had traces of the earth's magic in her; that would mean that her blood is extremely powerful and strong, perfect to use to ward a building," Niko remarked. "But you're right. It is disgusting." One of the dedicates offered his coat to put over the body.
"What now?" asked the second dedicate.
Niko sighed. "We have to un-ward the temple in order to get in, I think. This would mean picking up the circle of blood made around it," he told them.
"And how are we supposed to do that?" asked the first dedicate.
"Not easily," he said.
---
Back at Winding Circle, chaos had broken loose. Several cottages had collapsed. Trees were falling, crashing, hitting people and buildings as they fell. Despite the rain, a fire had started in one of the forges; Frostpine desperately hoped that it was not his own. The Hub loomed, tall and foreboding, threatening to fall.
Lark was a wreck. She had tried multiple times to awaken the three young mages, but nothing had come to any use. Frostpine had made an attempt to console her crying, but it hadn't worked, and the smith-mage had now given up completely.
Rosethorn, soaked to the bone, pushed open the door. "Where are my herbs?" she screeched. The look on her face was of complete terror and worry. "Perhaps they'll help wake these three up."
"They won't!" Lark insisted. "I've tried everything. Honestly, Rosie! The world is falling down around them and they still won't wake up. Your herbs are not going to do the trick!" It was too late, though; Rosethorn was already outside, sloshing around in her drowning garden.
She came back several minutes later, shoving plants under the noses of all three – first Daja, then Tris, then Briar. The herbs were strong-smelling things; they smelled so badly that Lark could pick up the scent of them halfway across the room. The three teenagers didn't even budge.
"C'mon, boy," whispered Rosethorn, dripping water on to the already drenched young man. Her hands shook as she held a piney plant up to his nose. "Wake up! Wake up, please!" She began to cry.
---
Niko and his two helper dedicates had finally managed to clear all the blood from the ground surrounding the Unread Script Temple. Niko had made a complicated charm using pieces of Lilith's hair and blood from the corpse in order to pick up all the blood on a piece of cloth. It was a gruesome, sickening process, but it did not sicken Niko as much as the thought of Sandry being hurt did.
Having lifted the ward, it was not difficult to open the door.
Niko and the two dedicates entered the temple. The candles were burning low inside of it. Sandry was there, tied to a bench; blood pooled around her, bleeding from her hands.
"Gods!" Niko gasped. He pulled a knife from his pocket, trying to cut the ropes that bound her. The knife grew hot and melted. Furious at himself for not having thought of that, he used his power and blasted through the ropes. Her hands came free. He did the same to her ankles and nearly set the bench on fire in the process.
He saw Raeldro, too, slumped on the floor. The dedicates went to pick up the mage, but Niko interrupted, saying, "Leave him."
"But what if he's injured?" asked the second dedicate.
"Are you a fool?" Niko charged. "Who else but Raeldro Earthkin could have broken into this place? It had ageless spells upon it!"
They exited the temple and went back into the rain. He put Sandry over his horse as gently as he could, tying her to the saddle upright. "Guards," he said, calling to the soldiers. "Keep watch, and let no one into the temple. If anyone requests entrance, refer them to me."
"And us?" asked the two dedicates. The third had returned from vomiting and also looked at Niko with watchful eyes as the mage untied his horse.
"Stay here, and fight off anyone who tries to enter," he said. Niko swung up behind Sandry on the saddle, holding her against his chest. He put a finger on her neck; her pulse was still there. He spurred his horse into a gallop, following the path that lead to the Hub, which pointed its metallic finger at the sky.
---
Raeldro watched the four, unsuspecting.
There was a great deal of murmuring between the four. They knew what they had to do. They felt for their elements, surrounding them; they probed into what remained of the earth's core, feeling the earth's magic pulse there, undying.
Tris felt for the winds. She felt the tides, crashing up against the seawall, powerful, unable to be captured. I will not capture you, nor will I tame you, she told them. But I will help you, if you let me. If you fight for me – you'll be fighting for yourself, for your own existence. She called out to the clouds, to the rain that poured and the lightning that clapped. She tugged to it, urging it, begging it with a plea. She felt it bend to her, as the little wind had; she felt it give and understand. She felt it give itself.
From her part of the thread-circle, a soft blue glow began to come into being.
Sandry thought of threads; she thought of the plants that they came from, of the clothes they were made into. She thought of the hay they had put onto the roof. She thought of the thread-circle itself that she held, lumpy in all the right places. Weave yourselves together for me, one last time, she pleaded. Together, fibers become strong, as do people, as do all the parts of nature together. You must help me. She felt as though a puzzle had clicked inside of her head. She felt as though she had started a weave.
Her section of the thread-circle glowed golden.
Daja felt metals. She felt them in the earth, in the houses, in the Hub itself. She felt them within herself even, in her blood and bodily fluids. Metals were vital, and she knew that they would be vital in this battle. I can only bend you so far; you must bend yourselves, as well, metals and ores. Do you want to be bent by Raeldro? He wants to bend you to your destruction! Or do you want me to bend you? I will set you free. She heard the creaking of Hajra's gates opening, her very own doors.
The lump of the thread-circle that was Daja began to take on a red-brown hue.
Briar felt plants all around him. He felt their roots in the earth, touching the clouds with endless leaves. He saw his shakkan in his room, quiet. He felt the presence of growth everywhere. This could be the last chance you have to grow. This could be the last hurrah, Briar thought to them. But if you push for me, I'll push back for you. I'll try and push you through. He felt everything stretching, loosening, straining for him, towards a cloudy sky.
The final section of the thread-circle took on a pine green hue.
Who do you think you are, Raeldro? You may think you have mastered the earth, but it will not let you, they thought as one. It was strange, for they had not planned it; it was as though they were one for a split second in time.
Raeldro's wall of white moved forward like a giant hand. They protested, saying,
I seal my spell with blood
I seal my spell with a part of me
I seal my spell with myself
I seal myself.
There was blood on their hands, a magical sort of blood, although they felt nothing. It leaked from their hands into that thread circle.
It was then that the thread circle seemed to explode in color, as though their blood had activated something. Millions of colors, different hues, different saturations, spread from it. There were images in it; there were plants, and birds, and whales, and people, and fire, and flowers, and metals, and giant weavings waving in the wind in the midst of those colors. They exploded against his wall, enveloping the room like their very own rainbow. Magic flowed through them, prophets of their time.
Raeldro screamed, I will be a god! Somehow, he fumbled with the sap case that he had picked up off of Moonstream's desk.
The earth's magic seemed to sense the danger. Raeldro's wall shattered into what looked like a million pieces of glass, bits of it all over the floor. It bowled Raeldro over, knocking him against the wall of the room. The sap case fell to the ground with a clatter, also breaking. The sap oozed over his hands, but it was too late. That power that had been stored there was gone, freed; it had already been absorbed back into the earth's core.
No, Raeldro cried, desperately. His chances for immortality were ended. His eyes rolled, wild, furious, helpless; his hands were all over his face, sap left there in amber globs. But if I do not get to live forever, you will not get to live at all! He yanked the elixir vial from his pocket and held it up just as the blast of their magics hit it. They did not know exactly what was in that elixir, but they were sure that Raeldro knew what he was doing.
The moment that their magics hit the vial, everything seemed to pause. Then, there was a great deal of fire, charcoal, explosion all over the room – there was a split second of pure blackness before there was nothing at all.
---
Niko arrived at Winding Circle. He was nearing Discipline. Sandry was still breathing, which gave him a great deal of hope for her. The thundering of his horse's hooves reminded him to keep rhythm to his own breathing. Water from the rain whipped around his face, stinging his eyes, making him half-blind.
He felt wetness on his hands. He looked down, briefly. Niko was shocked to note that Sandry's hands had just sprouted new cuts that had not been there before. Had she cut herself on something on the ride? It was impossible.
Baffled, he skidded up to Discipline, dismounting from his horse. Lark ran out to him. "The strangest thing just happened, Niko!" she cried. "The three in here all just started bleeding from their hands, from cuts that weren't there before. It was as though an invisible knife had cut them--"
She was about to finish when her eyes widened. There was a loud, thundering boom sound. Niko looked behind him. There was a huge explosion at the top of the Hub; the whole top floor was completely gone. Fire sprouted to unimaginable heights from the top of it. The clock was missing a large chunk, which slammed into the ground several stories down, crushing a cottage and several people. The long hand of the large clock, a big piece of metal, careened into the ground as well, falling flat on its side and bouncing twice.
"Oh my gods," Niko murmured, too shocked to raise his voice. Rosethorn, Kirel, and Frostpine, too, came outside upon hearing the dreadful sounds, and their jaws dropped completely.
"Niko!" Lark screamed, taking Sandry from his horse. "Niko, she's dead – she's not breathing! Niko! Niko!" It was true. She was no longer breathing, and her heart had stilled. Rosethorn, Kirel, and Frostpine rushed inside to check on the others.
Niko carried her inside and laid her on the bed. Rosethorn and Frostpine looked up at Niko and Lark with weary eyes. "None of them are breathing now," Frostpine said in a quiet voice amidst the screaming outside. "They were a minute ago--"
Lark buried her face in her hands, hysterical. Rosethorn was shaking badly, frozen in place. Frostpine watched Kirel as he knelt solemnly next to Daja's mat.
Niko's eyes lifted after he set down Sandry. There were tears in them, but then he blinked. "The sun has come out," he said suddenly, seeing a glimmer of light between the shutters. He went to the window and flung them open.
Everybody gasped.