CHARTERSTONE
Prologue
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Seven for seven,
The Sleeper, The Waker,
The Walker, The Speaker,
The Thinker, The Binder,
And last of all Weeper.
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"The Clayr have Seen you, Adiel, robed in the blue and silver of the Abhorsen, wielding the bells to bind the Dead and protect the Kingdom from harm. The Blood annoints you and welcomes you to walk beside Eimeth as Abhorsen-In Waiting."
Red curls bowed before the Queen; the Wallmaker sword Uhnimel slid from the scabbard; and Adiel, Abhorsen-in-Waiting, raised the naked blade in high salute before all assembled, bowing deeply when they cheered.
Eimeth, seated on the left of the Queen, nodded her head to her young cousin as his friends swallowed him in a laughing, chattering crowd, patting him on the back and shoulders. For a moment a swell of regret coursed through her. It should have been her own child standing on the dais recieving the bells and sword; yet there are some deaths that even an Abhorsen cannot prevent. And should not, for to stray down that path would be to ruin the balance between Life and Death.
She wondered if Adiel would take to the craft as she had, completely plunging herself into the fight against the Dead with all her gusto, careless and headstrong, or if he would be more cautious and fearful, giving the Greater Dead the respect they deserved. She did not know her cousin well; he was much younger than her, nearly eighteen years, and she, of course, had been busy as Abhorsen for nearly all of his childhood. But the Clayr had Seen him, and he was quite a skilled Charter Mage, so Eimeth supposed that familiarity would come in time.
Taking her eyes from Adiel, Eimeth stood and quietly stepped away from the thrones, fingering the bells at her chest. Their weight, as always, was comforting against her chest. The court milled around her, all their attention focused on the newly-appointed Abhorsen-in-Waiting, as she shouldered her way through the throng.
In the annex to the Great Hall, she breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the cool stone wall, closing her eyes and letting the breeze from the open doors wash over her.
"Not a fan of crowds, Abhorsen?" said a soft voice next to her.
"I find that a crowd of Life is little better than a crowd of Dead," replied Eimeth bluntly, opening her eyes. Despite her grim tone she smiled and embraced the owner of the voice.
"Talis! I did not expect any of you to come!" She held the younger woman at arm's length and grinned happily. Talis returned the grin.
"We could hardly miss the appointment of the newest Abhorsen, could we?" said Talis, leading the Abhorsen to the windows. They sat on the ledge and looked out over the bustling city of Belisaere below them. "It is an event of great magnitude, my dear cousin." She brushed a stray strand of blonde hair from her face and gently raised her cheeks to the salty breeze blowing from the nearby bay.
"It is still a long way to come," said Eimeth gently. "But I thank you."
"I must admit, Eimeth, that it is not entirely for personal reasons," said Talis. "Our vision grows clouded of late, and we do not See as clearly or as often as we would like. And what we do see is not pleasant, not at all."
"What do you see?" whispered Eimeth, her mouth going dry.
"Ah, if I could make sense of it, I would tell you," replied Talis, smiling again but with no happiness this time, "so let it suffice to say that should this future come to pass, the Kingdom will be shattered."
"Have you told the Queen?"
"I have, and she refuses to listen. She says that if we cannot offer her concrete details, only vague warnings, then she will not act upon it."
"Do you know any concrete details?" asked Eimeth. She followed Talis' gaze to the young Prince, Rogir, standing at the foot of the throne, and glanced sharply at the Clayr when Talis shuddered suddenly.
"I only know that it will be a few years yet," said Talis with certainty. "Because when what we see comes to pass, his young Highness is a full grown man... and your Adiel is at his side."
She gazed up, blue eyes into Eimeth's black, and shook her head. "What does this mean, Talis?" asked the Abhorsen, fearing that she knew the answer already. "Will they drive the darkness away?"
"We do not know," said Talis, and for a moment she looked far older than she was. "But we fear that you, at least, will not find out." She reached her arms out and embraced the older woman, shoulders shaking.
Eimeth closed her eyes; though she had expected this answer, she did not like it any better. "Then I must train Adiel as well as I can," she said. "And we must begin at once." Though Talis did not see it, her fingers touched the bells at her chest, and rested finally on Astarael, the bell which cast all who heard it deeply into Death. The Weeper, the greatest and most terrible of all the bells; she had never heard the Weeper's voice, though she knew all things eventually must follow Astarael's call.
"We must begin at once," she said again, looking at her young cousin and suddenly shivering under this great weight that had so suddenly landed on her shoulders. "I have prepared him somewhat already, to properly ring the bells and cast the necessary Charter Marks to travel through Death. He has read the Book of the Dead, although that is a book that one never truly finishes."
"I know that he will be ready to face what we See," said Talis. "You will make sure of it."
Eimeth gazed through the doors, where the crowd still mingled, talking and laughing with excitement, and met the eyes of the new Abhorsen-in-Waiting for a second. He smiled and nodded, and then a knot of people moved in front of him once more.
"He will be ready," said Eimeth. "We will be ready."
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