CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
The following day, Teg sought an excuse to talk with Nefnet away from as many of the others as possible. An opportunity presented itself when Grunwold—who was eager to follow his parents in their example of generosity—offered to further equip Nefnet if he could do so without rendering Slicewind useless.
This led to Sapphire Wind suggesting that Grunwold berth Slicewind in what had been the Library’s main plaza, not far from the pedestal that held the statue of Dmen Qeres.
“Makes sense,” Grunwold agreed. “It will be easier to unload things for Nefnet, and most of us can continue to bunk aboard, without having to hike back to the meadow.”
“Two more bathrooms, and an extra kitchen would be useful,” Peg agreed.
“Nefnet,” Teg said, “why don’t you come with me and Grunwold? I’m sure you’d enjoy a chance to see the area from above.”
“That would be nice,” Nefnet agreed. If she thought it strange that Teg would offer to leave the Library, when there was archeology to be done, she didn’t say so. Nor did anyone else.
So, while the others remained to continue preparations for their trip to the Creator’s Visage Isles, Teg, Grunwold, and Nefnet hiked back to Slicewind.
Overhead soared Heru, Grunwold’s xuxu, a creature about the size of a raven, that resembled a miniature pterodactyl (bright green on top, even brighter orange on his underside) as much as he resembled anything else from Teg’s home world. Pet was probably the wrong word for what Heru was to Grunwold, since Heru was intelligent enough to have learned to speak, but companion seemed wrong, too, since Heru was more than a sidekick. For now, Teg had decided to just think of Heru as Heru.
“What a beautiful sky sailer!” Nefnet said, in genuine admiration as they stepped out of the cover of the trees and into the meadow where Slicewind was berthed.
Teg could have sworn that Slicewind’s painted eyes crinkled at the corners, as if the ship smiled at the compliment.
“She’s smaller than Cloud Cleaver,” Grunwold said. “That’s the ship my parents would have flown here to see you, only a single master, but I love her lines. She’s sleek and maneuverable. One person can handle her in a pinch.”
“Especially if that one person is Grunwold,” Teg put in. “The rest of us usually need a partner. Belowdecks there are three cabins and a galley. Vereez has the smallest cabin. The three of us mentors share the master suite—which is fine, because we take night watch in shifts— and the boys had the bow cabin, but they turned that over to Ohent and Kaj during our latest voyage.”
Once aboard, after Nefnet had been given the tour and she and Grunwold had discussed some of what Slicewind could spare, they took the ship aloft.
“Let’s sail around a bit,” Teg suggested, “so that Nefnet-va can see what the area surrounding the Library looks like now.”
Grunwold looked quizzical, but launched the flying ship without comment—something so unusual for him that Teg suspected she was not the only one who wanted relative privacy in which to talk.
Nefnet looked down over the lava fields, at the jagged mountains, marveling at how the lake—from whose waters something with many claw-hooked limbs reached out to snag a passing lizard parrot from the sky—had spread from its once modest dimensions.
“I can see,” the healer said, “that we will not need to worry about door-to-door vendors even when the Library is up and running again. We were isolated before, mostly by distance from any large population center, but this . . .”
“The change in the terrain is impressive,” Teg agreed, then drew in her breath and launched into what she really wanted to talk about. “Speaking of when the Library was up and running . . . You’ve been relatively calm about learning that more than twenty years of your life were, if not stolen away—since you’re the same age as you were, then—shall we say, suspended? How do you think your associates who remain archived will react when they are released?”
Nefnet shook her head, but her words made clear this was not a refusal to answer, only uncertainty. “I wish I knew. Once I got over my own shock, I’ve thought about that very matter quite a bit. I’ve even talked a little about it with Sapphire Wind. You’re from another world. What do you know about wizards?”
“In our world, wizards only exist in stories,” Teg explained. “However, although I don’t know anything about actual wizards—except for those I’ve met here—I’m old enough to know that people who are accustomed to having power are also accustomed to wielding it. Do you have any idea how many of those who stayed over the holiday were actually wizards, how many support staff?”
“I don’t.” Nefnet’s pleasant otter face looked wistful. “I stayed at the Library because I had nowhere I wanted to go. Even better, I was being offered a chance to work on a new research project. The other two you saw in the vision quite outranked me, and I was honored to be invited to collaborate.”
Grunwold spoke from where he was busily rooting through one of the many storage lockers that bordered the upper deck. “When I first learned about the Archived, I thought Sapphire Wind had done us a favor, ‘archiving’ all those people, so that our parents didn’t become mass murderers, even by chance. Now . . . I’m still glad, but having the fate of the Archived hanging over us is like being at the end of a game of crack the whip: if you let go, you’re going to go flying.”
“And quite likely crash into something hard,” Teg added. “If your parents’ secret had ever gotten out, there would have been no avoiding consequences, but now, with the wronged parties still alive and able to plead their case, it could be very bad.”
“Yeah,” Grunwold said. “The ‘extraction agents’—also known as my dad, Vereez’s parents, and Xerak’s mom, as well as Ohent—had all those years to find ways to justify to themselves what they’d done. Now—if Sapphire Wind wakes those people back up—our folks are going to have a lot of angry people coming after them.”
“If waking them is what Sapphire Wind plans . . .” Teg said, her voice trailing off so that her words became not quite a question.
“That’s my understanding,” Nefnet said, “and doubtless unarchiving them is the right thing to do.”
“Doubtless?” Grunwold asked, quickly hearing the note of uncertainty in Nefnet’s voice.
Nefnet sighed and made a sweeping gesture toward the bubbling lake of molten rock, to the sharp, new upthrust mountains. “That sort of massive disaster doesn’t happen every time there’s a magical accident. If that was the case, we’d have seared ourselves off the globe long, long ago. What you see down there is what happens when there’s a magical accident in a magical library and even then . . .”
She paused, turned so she could face Grunwold and Teg, then sank to sit on the deck, as if by stopping looking at the burbling chaos of the surrounding landscape she could put it out of her mind.
“There were always stories that the Library of the Sapphire Wind existed as more than a tribute to one rich and powerful wizard’s vanity. Rumors were always circulating that there was something powerful hidden there, that the Library had been established because the best place to hide something of power is in the midst of other things of power.”
“Like the old fairytale about how the best place to hide a needle isn’t in a haystack,” Grunwold said, “but in a box of needles.”
“Exactly,” Nefnet said. “If you find a needle in a haystack, you wonder how it got there. If you feel a strange surge of magical energy in a place that is renowned not only for its collection of magical texts, but also for the artifacts repository . . . Well, you don’t even wonder.”
“But you’re wondering now,” Grunwold said.
“I am. There’s something I’m not sure you realize . . . The name of the Library was always one of its little mysteries. Since the Library was supposed to be a tribute to Dmen Qeres’s vast collection of books and artifacts, as well as to his ability to secure donations from others, then why didn’t he name it for himself? There’s ample precedent. When I was awakened by something that identified itself as the eponymous Sapphire Wind, I had one of those ‘ah-ha’ moments. And I remembered those rumors . . . And if—when—Sapphire Wind wakes up the rest of those who were archived, I won’t be the only one to remember.”
Teg cleared her throat. “I’ve wondered about the Library’s name. What is a ‘sapphire wind,’ anyhow?”
Grunwold and Nefnet both looked startled, then Nefnet asked, “You don’t know? Doesn’t the translation spell explain?”
“Not really,” Teg said. “It’s a terrific spell, but when our language doesn’t have a cognate, we get a, to us, meaningless sound that is the word in your language. It does this a lot with plants and animals, though, weirdly, if we nickname whatever it is, like Peg usually does, then the translation spell obliges with giving us ‘our’ word for spike wolves or whatever.”
“Fascinating,” Nefnet said. “But for the Library of the Sapphire Wind, it didn’t do that?”
“No, it simply gave us our words. Library: a place where books and similar items, usually information storage of one sort or another, are kept. Sapphire: a gem-grade corundum, usually blue, though trace elements may cause the gem to have other colors. However, the gem is usually blue, so much so that the name of the gem is often used to describe a certain rich, vibrant shade of blue. Wind.” Teg had to pause and think about that one. “Moving air, I guess. A meteorological phenomenon.”
Grunwold nodded. “What does the translation spell do with names? Personal names, I mean?”
“Most of the time, it gives us the sound, not the meaning, if any. Maybe that’s because in our culture names are identification tags, sounds, even if they have meaning. One of Peg’s stepdaughters is named Sunshine, but no one would ever get confused that, when Peg talks about her, she’s actually talking about the light of the sun.”
“I had a reason for asking,” Grunwold said. “You’d think that since Library of the Sapphire Wind is a name for a place, you would have gotten a sound. Did the name of the city of Rivers Meet come as a sound or translated?”
“Translated,” Teg said promptly.
“Interesting,” Nefnet said. “I see what you’re getting at, Grunwold. As with your culture, Teg, our names are often ‘just sounds.’ Mine is derived from an old word meaning—let me think—pretty queen, if I remember right. But place names are often rooted in something specifically descriptive, like Rivers Meet is a city built where several rivers come together. In an odd way, Sapphire Wind is also a descriptive name.”
“Which bring us back to my question,” Teg said. “What is a sapphire wind?”
Grunwold took up the explanation. “Each of the four dominant winds are associated with a gem. North is diamond. South is ruby. East is yellow topaz. West is emerald. Sapphire wind is a mystic concept: some call it the wind of the soul, the wind of the spirit. Do I have that right, Nefnet-va? I’m a sailor, not a wizard, although I do have pretentions to poetry.”
Nefnet nodded. “That’s a good definition. Oh, and I would be pleased to have you all drop the ‘-va.’ I appreciate your recognizing me as a wizard, but I never have taken a wizard’s name. I see myself more as a researcher and healer.”
“We’ll tell the others,” Teg said.
Nefnet flashed an otter’s smile. “So, Teg, you can see that by naming his library for the sapphire wind, Dmen Qeres was proclaiming it a place associated with the magical arts, because magic is often thought of as the art of using one’s sapphire wind to manipulate the surrounding world.”
“Wow!” Teg said. “Ask a simple question, get a serious answer. That’s amazing. I guess that it is very appropriate that the Library’s genius loci has the same name, since it’s essentially the Library’s individual soul.”
“That’s about it,” Nefnet agreed. “When the Library was a going concern, most of us didn’t think about whether it had a conscious soul or not, but if Dmen Qeres linked the genius loci to a powerful artifact like Ba Djed of the Weaver, he intended the place to have a soul even when it was newly built. More usually, when inanimate items have souls, they acquire them over time.”
“Kami,” Teg said, then, when the other two looked puzzled, she explained. “That’s a word from another language in my world: Japanese. It’s often translated as god, but it can simply mean the spirit that a place or old tree or landscape feature comes to possess over time. Lots of cultures where we come from have the concept, but these days—maybe because we don’t have magic to remind us—animism is considered an old-fashioned, even a primitive, way of seeing the world.”
“Not that this isn’t fascinating,” Grunwold said, “because it honestly is, but we were talking about how those people that Sapphire Wind archived are going to feel when they’re put into circulation again. I gather that some of them were immensely powerful.”
“Definitely.” Nefnet got up and began to pace. “When the Library was active, there were elite librarians who administered the collections, kept them from being abused. Some of those will be among the Archived, but not all. As I’ve been prowling the stacks, I’ve seen a tremendous amount of destruction, but I’ve also seen a wealth of materials that could be salvaged. But for whom? The Library as it was doesn’t really exist anymore. Who is Dmen Qeres’s heir? Not Emsehu, no matter that he claims that his original body was that of Dmen Qeres’s biological son.”
“And what about the artifacts repository?” Teg added. “That looks as if it was far less damaged than the open stacks, probably because the lock boxes and shelves wouldn’t have burned as easily. Sure, individual storage areas were crushed, but much of what was stored within them should be intact. Who owns what’s there?”
“I’ve been wondering about that, too,” Nefnet said. “I’m not a particularly power-hungry person—most who go into healing magics are not. Nonetheless, I’ve found myself tempted to start doing a bit of salvage work for my own benefit. I’ll admit, most of the data crystals I’ve retrieved and begun to repair are those I would love to have for my own personal collection.”
“This doesn’t sound good,” Grunwold said. “I’d been concentrating on how my dad and his fellow extraction agents would be affected. I hadn’t thought about the Library itself. Until now, the Library of the Sapphire Wind hasn’t been plundered because it was impossible to get in. Now though . . .”
“Exactly,” Teg said. “‘Impossible’ is its own sort of wall. When I was a child, people talked about heart transplants as if they were one-of-a-kind miracles. Now, while they’re not exactly routine, no one is surprised to hear of one being done. As long as ‘impossible’ guarded the Library of the Sapphire Wind, the treasures hidden in the ruins were relatively safe. Now . . .”
“I hate to keep making the situation seem worse,” Nefnet said, “but ‘impossible’ was not all that kept the Library safe. If I understood the tale you told, Sapphire Wind itself was a major force in keeping the Library isolated. It wanted Ba Djed of the Weaver retrieved. Until it sensed that someone who could help it achieve that goal had arrived, it did its best to keep scavengers and treasure hunters away. Now it has you. In a relatively short time, you’ve retrieved two of the pieces. What will happen when it has the third?”
Teg and Grunwold stared at each other.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Grunwold admitted. “I mean, beyond it unarchiving people and a shit storm landing on my dad, that is. What are you thinking about?”
Teg cut in. “It’s that rumor, right? The one that the Library was constructed for reasons beyond those publicly given. Do you think Ba Djed of the Weaver is what’s behind those rumors?”
“I wish I knew,” Nefnet said, “but I do think that Ba Djed has more significance than Sapphire Wind is making out. Sapphire Wind is acting as if the artifact was simply a power source that it drew upon to keep things working. Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe, though, Ba Djed is that and also something else.”
“Maybe we should just ask Sapphire Wind,” Grunwold suggested.
“How would we know if Sapphire Wind was telling us the truth?” Teg countered. “Have you noticed how Meg seemed to have a sense of Sapphire Wind’s motivations, even when she wasn’t acting as the translator?”
Grunwold and Nefnet both nodded.
Nefnet said, “So there is a continuing connection between them. I wondered if Sapphire Wind asked Meg’s permission to reestablish contact, or if it simply assumed the right, as you said it did when you first arrived at the Library.”
“I’ve wondered the same thing,” Teg replied. “It’s possible Meg agreed. For all that she can be quiet, she’s ferociously curious. I think she’d enjoy having an inside track on information—even if she knew she was taking a risk that Sapphire Wind might possess her permanently.”
Nefnet returned to her earlier obsession. “I’ve wondered what will happen when Sapphire Wind unarchives those who are currently dormant. It might prefer some over others, for example, those who are more ambitious, who can be lured into an agreement with a promise of power. Earlier you mentioned how those with power are accustomed to using it—but I’ve seen the reverse: sometimes the promise of power lets others use you.”
Grunwold said, “Given that Sapphire Wind saved your life, you sure don’t sound as if you like it very much.”
“I’m not sure it so much saved my life as saved a potential resource,” Nefnet countered. “There’s a tremendous difference. The Library has always been the Library of the Sapphire Wind. I am beginning to wonder if, to Sapphire Wind, everything there—including those who thought themselves in charge—were merely part of the collection.”
In the light of her recent discussion with Nefnet, Teg was less than enthusiastic to learn upon their return that Sapphire Wind had suggested that the group search the repository, both for general items that might be useful and, more specifically, for some device—Teg wasn’t quite sure what—that might speed their journey to the Creator’s Visage Isles.
Xerak and Vereez were already down in the repository with Meg, who had said that her injured hands hadn’t robbed her of the ability to read or do light sorting. Kaj and Peg had stayed with Ohent, who had experienced one of her fits and had needed to be drugged. She now lay on the floor, resting on a pallet they’d made from spare bedding.
Nefnet hurried over to examine the unconscious woman. “Kaj, since you can tell me precisely what you gave her and what dosage, I can separate out the drug’s effects from whatever other forces may be acting on her. Maybe we can work out what percentage of these nightmares and fits are magically induced and which may be the result of a guilty conscience.”
Kaj nodded. “I know my mother, and I don’t think it’s guilt. I really don’t. I’d love to say that it was, because that would make her seem nicer to you, but I’m going to opt for honesty.”
“Still,” Nefnet said, “if we can rule any element out for certain, then we can . . .”
The discussion rapidly became dually arcane: magical and medical. Teg, who only understood about one part in three, was additionally distracted by the thought that amateurs—treasure hunters at that—were rooting around in a new part of the repository.
“Let’s go help the others,” she said to Grunwold and Peg.
Peg lifted her knitting. Her current project was a pair of fingerless gloves made from a coarse yarn, probably intended as work gloves.
“I’m at a complicated part. I’ll stay here. Besides, my knee is aching. I don’t feel like crawling around on the floor.”
Teg grinned. “Aching knees couldn’t keep me away. C’mon, Grunwold.”
Today the repository looked worse than ever. On their first visit, the devastation had been masked by the dust of ages. Now much of that dust seemed to have shifted onto Xerak and Vereez, who had gained access to more broken safe deposit boxes. Meg, her acid-burned hands gloved, sat behind a jury-rigged table, sorting through various bits of detritus.
Grunwold grinned at his two friends. “You guys look worse than the time we decided to dig a tunnel from our fort down to the river. Find anything useful?”
Vereez threw a small chunk of concrete at him. “Actually, we have. Meg, show him!”
Meg held up a large key. In shape, it resembled the heavy iron keys used to undo old-fashioned locks. However, this key was made from a material that sparkled in the light, mostly a rich green but with hints of yellow and blue.
Teg took the key from Meg and turned it over in her hands, giving it a careful inspection. “This looks as if it was grown, rather than carved or cast.”
“I believe it was,” Xerak replied. “There’s a form of enchantment magic where a significant item is covered in a crystalizing solution. It’s a fascinating technique, and the end result is much more durable than it looks. I wouldn’t recommend jumping up and down on that with heavy boots on, but it should hold up to routine use.”
“And its use is?” Grunwold prompted.
“You’ll like it,” Xerak said, “since it will be helpful next time you decide to steal one of your parents’ sky sailers. Basically, that key should open most nonmagical locks and many magical ones as well. In addition, it provides an alert if the lock is warded or alarmed.”
“Can’t you do that?” Grunwold asked.
“This will be faster,” Xerak replied. “Even better, if we charge the key with mana in advance, using it won’t drain me in the same way, so I’ll have mana to spare for other spells.”
“That is terrific,” Grunwold agreed. “I remember how, in the vision Sapphire Wind showed us in the Font of Sight, Inehem was pretty much trashed by needing to undo all those magical locks. Now, how can I help you and Vereez here?”
“Help Xerak move some of the heavier stuff, Horn Head,” Vereez suggested. “While we work, we’ll tell you two what we learned about the Creator’s Visage Isles.”
“I have antlers, not horns,” Grunwold responded with what, for him, was considerable mildness, and started pulling on heavy gloves.
Teg handed Meg the key, then stood, hands on hips, happily surveying the mess. “Where would be a good place for me to start? Can I help any of you?”
Meg spoke in her Sapphire Wind voice. “All along the right side of this corridor were safe deposit boxes in which various routine artifacts were kept. Vereez and Xerak have been clearing the way to strong rooms.”
Teg bit thoughtfully into her lower lip. “I’ll let you young people do the brute labor. Call me if you find something you’re worried you might damage getting out. I’ve some skill.”
“In damaging things?” Grunwold said deadpan, handing her a whisk broom and bucket, then moving to where he could help Xerak move rubble off a fallen beam.
“In not damaging them,” Teg replied, laughing as she hurried over toward the tantalizing array of safe deposit boxes.
“Take the key,” Meg suggested. “Some of those safe deposit boxes may still be locked.”
When everyone was settled to a task, Vereez began talking, her words falling over each other in her eagerness to tell everything they had discovered at once.
“The Creator’s Visage Isles aren’t quite all the way on the other side of the world,” she began, “but even using Slicewind, we could be months getting there.”
Teg started to ask a question, but Meg anticipated her.
“Teg, we’re used to flying in jets that can carry us to the other side of the world in less than a day. Even though Slicewind can move through the sky, it does rely on the winds. Even if we were able to stock up on stored wind or Xerak could keep the winds in our sails all day and all night . . .”
“Which I can’t,” Xerak interjected, grunting slightly as he and Grunwold lifted a beam so that Vereez could shove a prop under it.
“. . . still Slicewind is best thought of as a small plane, not a long-range jet.”
“Thanks,” Teg said. “Go on, Vereez. Let’s skip the getting there for now. What are these Creator’s Visage Isles like? Do they have a similar culture to what we’ve seen in this part of the world? What about the language?”
“They speak a language different from ours,” Vereez replied. “Happily, it’s a language often associated with poetry and culture, so all of us studied it in school. The translation spell should work for you three mentors.”
Xerak drew a quick map on a dusty cabinet top. “If you’ll look at this, you’ll see why the islands have that mouthful of a name. Look at my sketch from this end. See? Two eyes, two ears, a long nose, and a big mouth.”
Teg leaned eagerly forward, immediately noting a few things that Grunwold wouldn’t have thought to mention. The “ears” were vaguely pointed and set high, rather than to the sides as with a human. The “nose” was indeed long, more like that of a canine or equine, rather than the dot or triangle often used to represent a human nose.
“So, why is only one of the islands called Sky Descry?” Teg asked. “Shouldn’t both eyes be looking up, descrying the sky?”
Xerak said, “I learned a story about how the islands got their name from my master. It goes sort of like this.” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “When the Creators had finished their work, they looked down and liked what they saw. In fact, they liked it so much that they came down to live in this new world. However, lest they crowd those who were already there, they sank deep into the sea, leaving only their face exposed. This became the islands.”
“Odd,” Teg said. “Multiple creators but one face. Anyhow, go on.”
Xerak gestured toward his sketch as he went on. “The legend goes on to say that because of the proximity to the Creators, the isles became a magically rich place, known for miracles. Those who lived there were delighted to be so blessed. However, as always seems to be the case, over time the populace asked for larger and more frequent miracles. This went on until, one day, what was asked was so enormous that, when the power latent in the Visage Isles attempted to grant the miracle, it failed spectacularly. Instead of a miracle, a volcano erupted, ruining one of the divine eyes entirely. Now the two islands are known as Blinded Eye Isle and Sky Descry Isle.”
Meg sighed contently. “Good story. And little Brunni is apparently on Sky Descry.”
“I must admit,” Teg said, “that, as interesting as the local history sounds, halfway around the world seems a long way to send a baby just to keep it from being discovered. Do you think that location was intentional on your parents’ part, Vereez, or did they just give the child up for adoption and not care what happened after? I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but they seemed a bit too controlling for the latter option.”
“That’s a good point,” Vereez admitted, “and one I’ve wondered about, too. Letting her just vanish doesn’t seem like them. What I mean is, they’re capable of getting rid of an investment that has gone bad, but I’ve seen them hold onto ones that have gone soft but have potential to recover. Maybe I’m sentimental, but I’d think their only grandchild to this point, maybe ever, would be a resource they’d want to keep an eye on.”
“Do you want to try talking to them again?” Xerak asked.
“Given that the last time I tried to talk to them, they put me under house arrest,” Vereez replied, “I think I’d better not. They’re weird about the whole subject, completely overboard.”
“Listen,” Grunwold said, “while it’s just us, there’s something I want to bring up. Are Kaj and Ohent planning to come with us?”
Xerak shrugged and became intently interested in some broken bricks. Vereez swept some dirt into a bucket, then replied.
“I haven’t asked. I’m not sure if we have the right to keep them away if they want to come. And if we do find this transportation device that Sapphire Wind has us looking for, we wouldn’t even be crowded together on Slicewind for months on end.”
“But Ohent is nuts,” Grunwold said bluntly. “I actually kinda like her, but trying to see the kid may be hard enough without a woman shrouded in a veil, jagged on stimulants or doped to the gills, trailing along. And Kaj . . .”
He stopped, perhaps seeing some warning in the cant of Vereez’s ears that stilled even his usual bluntness.
Teg spoke before the pause could become awkward. “I think that we could argue for leaving them both behind. Kaj may be the child’s biological father, however, even when he learned he had a daughter, he didn’t seem very interested. If Ohent really is concerned for the child’s well-being, then she’s not going to want to risk any peculiarity that might keep us from learning more about her. If we can find a delicate way to broach that topic, she might be easily be convinced to stay behind, especially since Nefnet has offered to treat her.”
“It has only been a few days,” Vereez said hesitantly, “I mean, for Kaj. Ohent never told him what she suspected. Given how proud she is of not lying to him, I think he was shocked. Even more shocked, I mean.”
Teg remembered how, after Kaj’s recent attempt at seduction, Vereez had admitted that she wasn’t quite over him. She’d never get over Kaj if the real person remained intertwined with her accumulated fantasies.
It might actually be better if Vereez had a chance to see the person Kaj is now. I don’t think he’d live up to four years of fantasies. Who could?
“You have a point, Vereez,” Teg said, promising herself that she’d speak with Grunwold and Xerak privately later. “If Kaj wants to come with us, then we should let him. He deserves a chance to show what sort of man he is.”
“Or isn’t,” Grunwold muttered, but although the tip of one of Vereez’s ears flickered, she let the comment pass.
“Now that we’ve settled that,” Xerak said, “shall we make plans for what we’ll do when we get there?”
“Point one,” Teg said, “I know you’ve all gotten used to how odd we humans look, but will you have any trouble bringing me and Meg and Peg along? I feel that as your mentors we should be there.”
Unspoken was in case one of you needs to be gotten out of a jam via unconventional routes.
“That’s right,” Vereez said. “You were off at Slicewind when we discussed that. Taking you three humans shouldn’t be a problem. Sky Descry is a pilgrimage location, since it’s famous for miracles. Many of those who come there are badly disfigured. Your masks may elicit pity, but they shouldn’t attract any unwanted attention.”
“Okay. I have another question . . . Why is there a need for miracles in a world where magic works? I mean, don’t you experience miracles on a daily basis?”
Xerak stopped to scrub dust off his nose leather before replying. “Magic and miracles are as different as . . .” He paused again, struggling for an analogy and failing. “Magic follows rules. Miracles don’t. That’s an oversimplification, but it’s the best I can do.”
“So who grants these miracles?” Teg asked. “Gods? Saints?”
“That’s a matter of great debate,” Xerak said, motioning for Grunwold to help him lift yet another chunk of masonry. “There are two general schools of thought. Gods or their agents certainly are one theory. The other is, well, basically that there are areas where there is a superfluity of magical energy that warps the region in which the miracles occur, so that the rules of what usually can and cannot be done are twisted, even bent. Some factions of the ‘gods’ school tries to have it both ways, saying that the gods create these areas of high magical energy so that those with strong enough will or faith or need or whatever can change reality to create miracles.”
“Sounds dangerous,” Teg said.
Meg, now clearly Meg, not Meg/Sapphire Wind, said thoughtfully, “Into which category does Hettua Shrine fall? Is it a place of miracles or of magic?”
Xerak scratched his head, shaking his mane in dismay when he realized how much grit was caught in it. “Before meeting the three of you, I would have said magic—a highly specialized form of divination. However, after what we experienced at the shrine, I may need to rethink that. Summoning three mentors from another world seems miraculous to me.”
Teg said, “My question about miracles isn’t as off topic as you may think. Vereez, is there a reason your parents would have sent Brunni to a place known for miracles? If we know that, it might help us find her.”
“I hadn’t really considered that the location might be on purpose,” Vereez replied. “I’m not used to thinking about magic and miracles in relation to my parents. To me they’ve always been hard, practical investment bankers. Remember, until just a short time ago, I thought my mother’s magical ability was as limited as my own.”
Xerak cut in. “As limited as your parents led you to believe your magic was, Vereez. If you dedicate yourself to serious study, I think you will surprise yourself.”
“One thing at a time,” Vereez said. “I assure you, I haven’t forgotten that my magical abilities might be yet another area where my parents lied to me, but my holdback is still, well . . . Holding me back.”
Xerak, perhaps all too aware of how his own obsessions continued to hold him back, gave her a sympathetic smile. Grunwold opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped himself. Teg suspected that he wished to ask Vereez whether what had held her back was her desire to find a child she’d never really known, or a chance to confirm dreams of a love that, after all, might never have existed.
Teg would have liked to feel surprised when the next day, in one of the buried strong rooms, they found a transport artifact that could be used to construct a gateway. Even more convenient was that it was already “programmed” to take them to the main population center on Sky Descry. This town shared the name of the island, probably because it took up most of the land area in one way or another. Teg suspected that Sapphire Wind had known precisely where the transport artifact was all along, and that their few wrong turns and mistakes as they sought it had been to keep them from suspecting just how much they were being steered.
The transport artifact consisted of a number of brightly colored polyhedral shapes ranging from those with four sides, all the way up to twenty. Each was about the size of a golf ball, and were cut from translucent semiprecious stones: amethyst, rose quartz, smoky quartz, quartz crystal, and others. There were multiples of each shape, with the exception of one multicolored piece, roughly the size and shape of a hen’s egg, that balanced neatly on its wider end.
When they brought their prize upstairs to their camp in the reception area, Peg—after glancing at Xerak for permission—selected a pink twelve-sided shape and gently rolled it across the table.
“Just like the gaming dice my granddaughter, Anna, got for Christmas last year. Well, hers were smaller and not gems, but if these had numbers inscribed on them . . .” She trailed off, inviting Xerak to explain what they could expect from their find.
The young wizard looked up from a booklet with an embossed leather cover that had been in the same box as the polyhedrons.
“The shapes are related to setting destinations: four for the major compass points, then those with more sides for longitude, latitude, and the like.”
“The like?” Kaj asked, picking up a twenty-sided shape cut from smoky quartz and examining it closely.
“For example, some polyhedrons can be positioned to indicate elevation,” Xerak explained. “Whoever owned this set has already done the calculations for both the Creator’s Visage Isles and the Library of the Sapphire Wind, which is going to save us a lot of hassle.”
“Any other places?” Teg asked, curious.
“A few,” Xerak said. “Rivers Meet is one, which isn’t a surprise, since Zisurru University is there. But there are also a few locations I’ve never heard of.”
“When can we leave?” Vereez asked, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, as if she was ready to charge off that instant.
“Not for several days yet,” Xerak said.
“What!”
“We’re lucky that whoever owned this set left instructions,” he said, hefting the booklet. “Do you really want me to be standing there with the instructions in one hand and the box with all these pieces in the other, trying to set out a complicated pattern while we’re trying to get away with a kidnapped kid?”
“You have a point,” Vereez agreed reluctantly. “I’d hoped we could get Brunni away—I mean, if she needs to be gotten away—without raising a fuss or needing to rush.”
“Me, too,” Xerak said. “Profoundly and wholeheartedly, but we can’t count on that. I’m going to memorize these instructions, do a bunch of dry runs on setup, then make a practice jaunt. And, you, my pointy-nosed friend, are going to do the same.”
“Me?”
“You. You’re the closest thing to another wizard who’s going to be part of this venture. You need to know exactly what to do in case something happens to me. Now that I think about it, Teg had better join our training sessions as well. She’s shown a real gift for using the sun spider amulet. Time for her to see if she can extend her abilities.”
The several days’ delay did have advantages. For one, Meg’s hands had ample time to heal. For another, after much argument, Ohent was convinced to remain with Nefnet in order to continue her treatment. In the end, Ohent only agreed because, “This way there will be someone to come to the rescue if you get yourselves into deep shit.”
Kaj did ask to accompany them and, given that they were going to look for his kid, it was hard to find an excuse to leave him behind. Kaj admitted to no skill with a sword—that was a weapon for soldiers and upper-class idlers—but he was good with a long knife (which he had with him) as well as with a short club, rather like a policeman’s baton. Xerak shyly presented Kaj with a nice piece of seasoned hardwood that he had found during his “meditation” visits into the surrounding area, and Kaj wrapped one end with rope to create a slip-free handgrip.
“Those of us who use hand weapons should be certain to keep in practice,” Peg said. “I, for one, am of an age where a few days break can be beneficial, but after that I start losing tone quickly.”
“I can bring the practice weapons from Slicewind,” Grunwold said. “Kaj used a club pretty well when we fought the tetzet a few days ago, but I’d like to see how he uses it against edged weapons.”
“I’d like to show you,” Kaj said, barring his teeth in something that just barely managed to remain a smile. “You might learn a few things.”
In addition to weapons practice, Xerak insisted that Teg take time to practice the magical focus exercises he’d been teaching her.
“Don’t argue,” he said, when she started to do so. “I know archeology is your first passion, but I insist you train your magic. Who knows? Your latent capacity might be one of the reasons Hettua Shrine selected you.”
“What about Vereez?” Teg asked.
“I’d like to get her to resume regular meditations,” Xerak admitted, “but between her fixation on Kaj and the fact that we’re within days of heading off to find Brunni, asking her to put a calm mind in a calm body seems rather too much.”
Over the intervening days, Teg also found an opportunity to brief Peg regarding her discussion with Nefnet about the Archived, and whether they would have legal recourse against the former extraction agents.
“Even if the Archived don’t have legal recourse,” Peg said, “that doesn’t end the matter—the nastier sorts might opt for vendettas or character assassination or the like.”
Although they both felt bad about it, they decided to share with Meg only their concern about what might happen when the Archived were unarchived and related matters—not Nefnet’s suspicions regarding Sapphire Wind’s private agenda.
Meg was becoming all too comfortable with the Library’s genius loci. She didn’t seem to mind sharing her vocal cords with it, and when the group conferred, she and Sapphire Wind now switched back and forth without warning, only the shift in the quality of Meg’s voice—slightly breathy, with a more measured cadence—announcing that Sapphire Wind was speaking through her.
“It’s not that we don’t trust Meg,” Peg reassured Teg in a manner that made it clear she was also reassuring herself. “It’s that we aren’t sure we can trust Sapphire Wind.”