CHARTERSTONE
Chapter Three
The Speaker
*******************
Wake the walkers and give them breath
Before you send them back to Death.
*******************
"Dyrim!" cried Eimeth as the light brightened. She put up a hand to shield her eyes, and heard Mogget hiss at something. "Dyrim, I am the Abhorsen Eimeth. I wish to speak with you."
"He says, then speak," whispered Mogget, leaping onto her shoulder. She winced as he found a grip, his claws digging right through her heavy flying coat. "So speak, Abhorsen!"
"Your children can See no longer," said Eimeth to the light. "The Clayr's sight is blocked by some new evil, reputedly the greatest necromancer of all. We need to find your Mirror, Dyrim, so that we may See this evil and stop it."
"You cannot stop it," said Mogget, but his voice was not his own. The cat jumped gracefully from her shoulder onto the floor in front of her, and changed as he went. The light dimmed until Eimeth could see again.
"Mogget?" she said, curiously putting out a hand to touch him. The albino dwarf's skin sparkled with Charter Marks, and he recoiled as her fingers brushed his hand.
"Not Mogget," he said, and his voice was not his own.
Eimeth settled back on her heels and folded her hands across her chests, the fingers of her right hand drooping just over Saraneth. Mogget, or what was inhabiting Mogget, laughed coldly.
"Do not worry, Abhorsen. The Eighth stays bound. But the Speaker has lost his voice."
Eimeth nodded but did not move her hand. "Where can we find the mirror?" she asked firmly.
"You cannot," said Dyrim. "It no longer exists. It was broken long ago and only shards remain." He turned around, back to Eimeth, and whistled one pure note, the very same pitch as the bell that bore his name. A light shone in the corner, a sharp flare like lightning that was gone in a second. "There is a shard. It is the only one I still possess. All the rest have been taken, stolen away while I slept."
Carefully Eimeth stood up, her hand never straying from the bandolier, and strode over to the corner. A shard of glass lay on the floor. When she touched it, Free Magic buzzed through her fingers like electricity. "Take it," said Dyrim harshly. "The Blood will work it for you."
"Who has taken the other shards?" she asked, wrapping the piece in her scarf. A corner piece, she saw, with two straight edges and one sharp, curving one.
Dyrim did not answer. When Eimeth turned back to him, a pair of gleaming cat's eyes met her gaze. "He is gone," said Mogget, sounding strangely hoarse. "Back to sleep as he has slept for a thousand years."
"That was easier than I thought it would be," said Eimeth. "How do we get out of here?"
She whistled a Charterspell, and a glowing globe of light flared into being above her head. "There is no way out," said Mogget uneasily.
"Where did we come in?" Eimeth asked, swinging her gaze round the smooth, continuous cave wall. No opening could be seen. She ran up to the wall where she thought the entrance had been and pounded on it without success. "Mogget! We are trapped!"
"It seems Dyrim is determined not to make it easy after all," spat Mogget, twining around her legs. Eimeth ignored him and cast a spell to crumble the wall of the cave in front of her. A low rumbling answered, the floor shaking beneath their feet, but no egress appeared. Hurriedly she sang the counterspell, but the rumbling did not stop. A boulder crashed to the floor behind them, and a startled cry erupted from Eimeth's throat before she could stop it.
"I hope Adiel does not mind not having a servant," growled Mogget acidly. "Whose plan was this?"
"It was your idea, cat!" said Eimeth. Another boulder crashed in front of them, sending chips of rock hurtling through the air. One sliced her cheek, and she felt the blood run down her chin. The Clayr had not Seen her as Abhorsen when the trouble came...
"Just because they did not See you does not mean you will not be there!" screeched Mogget, correctly interpreting her terrified expression, his claws scrabbling against the rock as he fought to stay on his feet. The shaking redoubled, and Eimeth scooped the little cat from the floor.
"Abhorsen!" cried a voice. Mogget clawed his way onto her shoulder and cried, "This way, Abhorsen!"
Eimeth turned and saw a tunnel stretching away into the rock, with a tiny figure silhouetted in the daylight at the end. She hastily set Mogget down and dashed up the tunnel. "Did we come in this far?" she asked.
"Don't talk, run!" was his only reply. Mirel caught her as she burst out of the cave and skidded on the slippery snow.
"What happened?" the girl cried. Eimeth did not respond, just threw her bandolier into the Paperwing and hustled Mirel into the cockpit. She jumped in herself and whistled the wind marks, and they were airborne just as the entire cliff face caved in behind them.
"By the Charter!" gasped Mirel, looking over her shoulder. "What did you say to him?"
"Nothing. I think he meant to keep us there," said Eimeth shortly. "He would have, too, if you had not opened the tunnel."
"Did you get the mirror?"
"Only a piece of it. It broke, apparently, sometime long ago."
"And the other pieces are missing," said Mogget. "That is a very powerful tool that has been stolen. Even if there are only shards left."
"Do you think that whoever stole them could use the mirror to block the Clayr's sight?" asked Mirel, half-shouting as the wind picked up suddenly. Eimeth turned around and stared at the girl.
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, like Mogget said, it is a very powerful tool. For something used by one of the Seven themselves, it would have to be. Couldn't the Charterspells be turned back against the Clayr, to block their Seeing?"
"And who would want to do that?" asked Eimeth, already knowing the answer she wanted. She was quickly changing her prior opinion of Mirel; rather than being a spoiled young Blood, the girl was level-headed and intelligent, and quick to grasp a situation.
"The necromancer you spoke of. The great evil that the Clayr Saw before they could See no more," Mirel answered.
"Indeed," said Eimeth, smiling as she faced forward once more, though she felt that in truth there was very little to smile about. "Very good, child." She whistled, and the winds shifted slightly, pulling them south once more.
They touched down on the terrace just as the sun dropped fully behind the jagged mountains to the west. Mirel, still clutching Mogget, hopped out first, and put out her hand to help Eimeth climb down. Talis and several other Clayr were standing at the Starmount Gate, lips blue and teeth chattering. "You should have told us where you were going," the Clayr said as Eimeth strode up to them. "We could have helped. Sent some of the Guard with you."
"I did not want to wait," Eimeth replied. "Besides, I had all the help I needed." She gestured to Mirel, standing slightly behind her. "She proved quite useful."
"Did you get the mirror?" asked one of the other Clayr.
"A shard, nothing more. But perhaps it will be enough." She drew it out of her pocket and held it out to Talis. "The Blood should awaken it."
With a glance at her fellows, Talis ran her finger along the sharp edge of the shard, inhaling sharply as bright red blood stained the glass and dripped onto the snow. Eimeth pricked her finger on her sword and added a droplet of her own blood, and they all watched in silence as the red spread over the surface like oil over water.
"What would you will me to See, Abhorsen?" said Talis softly.
"Our enemy, of course. What else?" said Eimeth sharply. She felt Mogget's weight on her shoulder and absently ruffled his fur.
Talis stared deep into the mirror, brow furrowed in concentration, and finally shook her head. "I can See nothing," she said wearily. "It is simply blank, a red-washed image of us and nothing else."
"Really?" asked Mirel, so suddenly that all of them jumped. "You didn't see the Prince?"
"You saw something?" asked Eimeth. She took the mirror shard from Talis and handed it to Mirel. "Then look, child, and tell us what you see."
Mirel glanced up at the Abhorsen and the Clayr, mouth slightly agape. "None of you saw anything?"
"We did not, child, so look!" snapped one of the other Clayr. Mirel swallowed nervously and studied the mirror. The glow from the Charterlights reflected onto her face, giving it a curiously red cast. On her forehead, half hidden by stray hairs, the Charter Mark shone silver.
For ten long minutes Mirel watched the mirror, her eyes tracking images that no one else could see. Eimeth herself peeked over the girl's shoulder and looked intently, but all she saw was Mirel's face, red with the blood that covered the surface. And then, suddenly, Mirel sighed and dropped the shard, and stared ahead with blank eyes.
"What did you see?" cried Eimeth, shaking her by the shoulder. The girl jerked, and looked up at the Abhorsen with fear shining in her black eyes. Eimeth, inexplicably, was struck again by how very much Mirel looked like Tallie, and she backed away before she could help it.
"I Saw..." Mirel licked her lips and looked up at the sky, where the first twinkling stars peeked out in the endless heavens. "I Saw myself and Adiel, and we fought, and I fell from my horse. I think I passed the Ninth Gate, because all I saw were stars, stretching away forever and forever... And then the princes, Rogir and the other one, Torrigan I think he is called, the one that is not really a prince in truth. They fought as well, on the steps of the Palace in Belisaere, down where the Great Charterstones are... I saw Adiel's ceremony, when he became Abhorsen in waiting, and I saw myself again, with the bells." Her voice cracked, and Eimeth put a hand out on her shoulder. Mirel met her eyes for an instant and then continued on. "I think I saw many things. But I cannot remember them all. It was all just snatches and wisps, and some I know were in the past and some must be in the future." She sagged against Eimeth, who put her arm under the girl's shoulders and held her up.
"Then who is our enemy?" said Talis softly. "Torrigan? Or Adiel? Or Rogir? Or none of them?" She met the Abhorsen's gaze and held it for a long moment. "I wish the Queen heeded us better, that we might have a chance of stopping this."
"We have a chance," said Eimeth firmly. "We may not have all the answers yet, but we have a chance." She pulled Mirel up and led her inside, noticing suddenly that the girl's lips were blue with cold, and that the Clayr looked little better. She had not noticed the cold herself, but then, the river of Death was far colder.
As they walked down the long stairway to the dormitories, Mirel barely staying awake, Eimeth did not listen to the chatter of the Clayr around her. Mirel's description of her visions stuck in her mind, playing over and over again. Something struck her as odd, something that she doubted any of the others had noticed, and she could not help but dwell on it.
How curious, it was, that Mirel should see herself dying in an accidental fall from her horse on a ride with her cousin Adiel, when Eimeth's own daughter had died in just that way. How very curious indeed.
****************