The Moons of Mirrodin (4 page)

“This again?” he asked. “The trolls are not our enemies, Glissa. They record our history on the Tree of Tales so that we can forget. Those who want to know our past consult the troll elders. The rest of us are free from it.”

Glissa held Kane’s hand and looked into his eyes. “I want you to understand,” she said. “I’ve read the Tree—all of it. The Tree of Tales only goes back a few hundred cycles. The earliest runes have been removed. I know there is more to our history than we are being told. The only way to find out what the trolls are keeping from us is to not go through the ceremony. I have to do this, Kane, and I’d like you to do it with me. I need your support. I … I need you.”

Kane looked at the floor for a long time. Glissa wondered if his affection for her would be enough to overturn a lifetime of obedience. It was not.

“I … cannot,” he said finally. “Look, I believe in the trolls. They have always been good to us. I serve them, for flare’s sake. I just can’t defy them.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” asked Glissa, wondering if her trust would be her undoing again.

Kane took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “You are my friend. I will keep your secret. But why tell me any of this?”

“Because I … I care for you, Kane,” said Glissa. Before he could react, she said hastily, “And my flares have been getting worse. I need help.”

“Good evening, Kane,” came a lilting voice from behind them.

Glissa looked up to see her little sister coming from a spire room and let out a long sigh. “We’ll talk more tomorrow,” she said softly to Kane. “I think your time is about to be monopolized.”

Lyese was beautiful. Glissa had to admit that. She was taller than Glissa and kept her arms and legs shining brightly. The gelfruit light in the room practically glittered off her copper limbs. Glissa never bothered polishing because the molder actually helped her blend in with the Tangle trees. But Lyese was no hunter, except when Kane was around. Glissa knew that if she refrained from giving in to stronger feelings for Kane, she would lose her only friend to her persistent younger sister.

Tonight, Lyese had woven small gelfruits into her long hair, giving her a radiant, almost angelic presence as she descended into the room. Yes, she’s on the prowl tonight, thought Glissa.

“I love your uniform, Kane,” said Lyese as she pulled him away from the table and into the parlor area near the door. “Tell me all about the trolls. Father never talks about them.”

Kane looked desperately at Glissa, but luckily for both of them
her mother came back with the water. “Good evening, Kane,” she said as she passed through the sitting area on her way to the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready soon. Lyese, would you please help Glissa set the table?”

Kane sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. Glissa stared at him for a moment. Would it be so terrible to settle down and make a home with Kane? she thought. No, it wouldn’t be terrible at all. It just wouldn’t be her. She could never be like Lyese. There was more to life for Glissa than appearance, manners, and conformity. If she and Kane were to have a life together, it would have to be as equals … assuming he could keep up with her.

*   *   *   *   *

When Glissa’s father came home, they all sat down at the table. Glissa’s mother poured a half mug of water for everyone, then passed around a plate of crisped molder slugs as an appetizer and a platter piled high with broiled slagwurm steaks. Kane bit into his steak and said, “I thought for certain you’d make stew from that vorrac that Glissa dropped off the ledge, ma’am.”

Glissa kicked at Kane under the table, but the Chosen warrior had already pulled his legs from the way.

“I would have,” replied Glissa’s mother, “but we’ve used most of our water rations already this week, and Lyese hates blood stew, so I traded the carcass and an extra ration of water for these steaks. I hope they’re not too dry.”

Kane looked down at the half-eaten steak on his plate and smiled a little sheepishly. “They’re wonderful, ma’am.”

Glissa turned to her father and asked, “Did the council discuss the drought tonight, Father?”

Her father answered between mouthfuls. “Yes. We’ll have to continue rationing for now until the stars bring us more rain. Brynn has been studying the stars, and he claims there are fewer
in the heavens now than after the last rebuking ceremony. He says that’s why we get less rain.”

“Do you believe that?” asked Lyese. “I mean, how could there be fewer stars? Where would they go?”

“I don’t know,” replied her father, “but each passing cycle we get less rain, and the basins are dangerously low. I suggested to the council tonight that we tighten the rations even further to build up our reserves over the next few weeks. We’ll need a surplus before the rebuking ceremony. The first few weeks after are always chaotic.”

“That sounds sensible,” said Glissa. “What did the council say?”

“Brynn was behind the idea, but most of the others were grumbling,” replied Father. “They are worried about the backlash. A lot of Viridians are having trouble with the current rations.”

“How long until the ceremony?” asked Lyese.

“Six weeks. Watch the moons, Lyese. We see them less and less each rotation. That’s why it has gotten so much darker. When the four moons don’t rise at all, Viridians will head for the Radix at the center of the Tangle.”

All Viridians but one, thought Glissa.

The rest of the evening went much the same. Glissa, her father, and Kane discussed council business, the trolls, and the coming ceremony while enjoying her mother’s meal. This was the part of Glissa’s life she found she enjoyed the most: The hunt was over and she could relax with her family—even Lyese. Perhaps that’s why she had turned down the offer of joining the Chosen. Glissa didn’t really know. She’d wondered about that decision for months. A position on the Chosen would give her more access to the trolls’ secrets, but it had not felt right. Perhaps being one of the Chosen was not her destiny. But if not that, what?

Glissa went to sleep that night with many thoughts weighing heavily on her mind: Kane, her family, the Chosen, the ceremony,
and especially that strange flare. Tomorrow I’ll tell Kane about the flares, she said to herself as she rolled over and closed her eyes. Maybe then he’ll agree to miss the ceremony and help me find the truth about Viridian history.

*   *   *   *   *

Sometime later, Glissa awoke, feeling she was not alone. “Mother?” she called to the dark spire room. “Lyese?”

She could hear movement and thought she saw several shapes in the darkness, but her eyes were filled with sleep, and even her own hands in front of her face looked fuzzy.

Glissa closed her eyes and let her warrior senses take control. There was definitely something movng through her room, several large creatures moving toward her. She reached for her dagger, but before she could find it the closest form leaped on her bed and slammed her down onto the hide covers. The pungent odor of fur filled her nose. It was huge, grasping her arms and legs, pinning her to the bed. It seemed to be all hands and fur.

Glissa drew in a deep breath to scream, but the beast slapped another hand over her mouth. Or was it a second beast? How many hands did these creatures have? Glissa felt herself lifted from the bed and squirmed against her attackers’ hold. She got one hand free and raked her claws across what she hoped was the beast’s face. She heard the sound of ripping flesh, but then her hand was caught again.

Before she could break free again, a bag was pulled over her head and tied at her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. She screamed, but the leather must have muffled the sound, for there was no response nor any echo inside the spire chamber. Glissa struggled to free her arms, but one of the creatures picked her up and squeezed her arms even tighter against her body. She could
hardly breathe, let alone scream or struggle anymore as the creature carried her down and from her spire room, then on into the Tangle.

TREE OF TALES

Glissa concentrated as she was carried through the Tangle—up and down trees and across terraces—and tried to trace the route in her mind. The creature carrying her was very agile, for it climbed up and down the trees as easily as it moved across the terraces.

None of her attackers had made a sound, but from their smell and feel she was sure they must trolls. She had only ever seen them during ceremonies. They were the priests of the Tangle and kept to themselves inside the Tree of Tales except during holy days, but she had never known them to climb. They always moved slowly and solemnly during rituals, flanked by the Tel-Jilad Chosen. No one but elves and trolls knew the Tangle well enough to move through it this quickly. The two races had lived side by side in the Tangle for hundreds of cycles. It flashed through Glissa’s mind that Kane might have told them of her plans, but she couldn’t believe he would betray her.

She had almost worked a hand free from the leather bag when her abductors stopped. From the distance they had covered and the number of trees they had climbed, Glissa suspected she was high up in the Tree of Tales, but she knew of no openings into the great tree other than the main entrance at its base where the Chosen guards stood—where Kane should be standing guard right now.

Glissa heard a scraping sound behind her. It sounded like a dagger sawing against a Tangle tree limb. Then they were moving
again. Glissa began to lose her bearings. They were ascending but not by climbing or jumping from terrace to terrace. The creature’s footsteps were regular like walking, but Glissa felt a hard bump with each step. She knew of no formation in the Tangle that would explain this movement. It felt as if they were walking up a spire limb, but they couldn’t be for this long a time.

Glissa screamed again, and the creature grabbed her legs and back tighter to keep her still. The strength of the beast’s arms forced the air from her lungs. Her stomach pressed down on small horns and ridges on the creature’s back. She almost blacked out from the pain, but then she was tossed down on her back and could breathe again. She screamed once more, and the bag came off her head.

“Where am I?” she demanded.

“Safe,” came the gruff reply.

Glissa looked around. Four trolls surrounded her. They were squat-looking creatures, though they stood as tall as elves. Perhaps it was because their heads hung lower than their metallic shoulders, making them appear humpbacked. Two were hunched over now. Their copper-capped knees were splayed wide, and their long, metal-clad arms pushed against the floor to keep them from falling over. Glissa had seen trolls squat on the ground this way for hours during the long ceremonies. It seemed the preferred stance for the broad, humpbacked creatures.

They must be inside the Tree of Tales, she thought. The trolls had brought her in through a secret entrance. They were fast and agile, climbed as well if not better than Viridian elves, and she’d heard they used secret entrances to abduct dissenters.

“What do you want with me?” she asked.

“To protect you,” replied the troll who had spoken before. “The convergence is coming.”

His gray head was bare except for three copper bumps, and he had no forehead. His flat head seemed to roll down into his flabby
nose, which covered most of his face. Glissa had never trusted trolls, partly, she admitted, because they looked so different from the elves. You couldn’t even see their mouths under their huge noses until they opened them. How could you trust someone when you couldn’t even see their mouth?

“Protect me from what?” asked Glissa as she slowly worked a hand down to her dagger sheath. “From my dangerous memories? What convergence? Do you mean the rebuking ceremony? Are you going to force me into the rebuking ceremony just to protect your secrets?”

The trolls looked at her. Glissa couldn’t tell whether they were bored, mad, or happy. She could never read their faces.

“It won’t work,” she said. “You can’t force me to attend the ritual. I will find out the truth eventually.”

“Of that I am sure,” said a new voice.

Another troll had appeared in a doorway that had not been there a moment before. Glissa could barely see him behind the other trolls, but she sensed something different about him. His voice had an odd inflection. The others bowed slightly as soon as he spoke. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he might be smiling. It was so hard to tell with trolls.

“Who are you?” demanded Glissa, her hand almost on her dagger. She tried to get a better look at the new troll, but the bodies of the two trolls in front of her were so wide, all she could see was his face.

“Leave us,” commanded the new troll to the four abductors. “She will be safe with me.”

The trolls bowed and turned to leave, climbing back down the sloping tunnel. Glissa could see now that the tunnel was not natural. It was no spire. It had been sliced right through the metal tree. When she looked back up at the new troll, she was surprised to note that there was no metal visible on him at all! His arms, head, and legs were all bare, gray skin. He wore a long, leather
cloak that billowed as he walked. When he turned to go back into the room behind him, Glissa could see there was no metal on his back, either. She also noticed he didn’t have the same humpbacked appearance as the other trolls. The leather hung straight down from his neck to the floor.