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Authors: Rebecca Neason

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BOOK: The Thirteenth Scroll
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The Cryf are truly a people of the earth
, she thought suddenly.
Much more so than the farmers or woodsmen who claim the title. They are so much a part of this realm that even the scent of
their bodies proclaims their unity
.

Eiddig motioned them toward a rock shelf that extended, bench high, from the wall on their left. Once they were settled, Eiddig
turned to the other Elders.

“Full eighty cycles of the Great River have I been Leader and Guide unto our people,” he said to them. “Eighty times hath
the River swelled and eighty times fallen. With the rebirth of each cycle, eighty times have I returned unto this Holy Place
to read again the Words, that my heart would be purified and my eyes opened, prepared for the day when the Words would be
fulfilled.

“I, Eiddig-Sant, Keeper of the Holy Words, Leader and Guide of the Cryf—whose name meaneth Strong—say that the time foretold
unto us by the Mind of the Divine, given unto the great Dewi-Sant, first of us who carried the Staff, is now come. If any
here believeth not with me, speak thy doubt aloud.”

Eiddig waited; so did Lysandra. She was fairly certain she understood the oddly styled speech of the Elder. The scrolls and
prophecies of Tambryn had their counterpart here with the Cryf, and Lysandra felt somehow certain that these Holy Words were
far more ancient than Tambryn’s.

One of the Cryf Elders finally stood. “I be Jarim,” he said formally, “Elder of the Fourth Clan. I question not the Will of
the Divine nor the great wisdom of Eiddig-Sant. Thou hast Guided the Cryf well. I say only that before the Holy Words be spoken
unto the ears of Upworlders, thy heart must be certain. Past deceit hath taught the Cryf that the hearts of Up-worlders be
not true. Once the Holy Words be spoken, they can not be hidden again. If these Up-worlders be not true, the tears of the
Cryf shall fill the Great River.”

There was a soft murmur of agreement among the Elders. Then Eiddig spoke again.

“For his wisdom was Jarim named Elder of the Fourth Clan, and with wisdom doth he now speak. Yet I tell thee, since first
these Up-worlders did come among us, long hours have I spent in this Holy Place, reading again the Words and seeking the Mind
of the Divine upon this question. I say that these be indeed The Ones. All that was shown unto Dewi-Sant hath come to pass.
They be as he said they would be.”

Eiddig brought his staff down hard upon the stone floor.
The sudden
crack
that ricocheted around the cave walls was less unsettling, however, than the words that followed.

“‘…
And so shall the Up-world be in turmoil
,” Eiddig said, his voice taking on the singsong cadence of recitation. “
Darkness shall threaten all and only the Hidden One who holdeth the Core of Wisdom within can keep the darkness from destroying
both the Up-world and the Realm of the Strong
.


‘At this time shall three travelers find the shadowed door and enter where no Up-worlder may find their way. But they are
as no other Up-worlders, for their hearts contain not the stain of greed, and they come unto the Cryf to heal not to destroy
.


‘By these signs shalt thou know them. One traveler shall be a Servant of the Divine. This one walks the Path of Light and
carrieth that which gives guidance unto their journey. The second traveler seeth with eyes of blindness and heareth the unspoken
word. This one doth own the Hands of Healing and is one with the gifts of the earth. The third of this company walketh not
on two feet, but on four, a beast whose fur is like unto veins of silver that runneth through white crystal and whose eyes
shine like unto blue agates. This one hath chosen a heart of loyalty and turneth from the wild and fierce ways
.


’These travelers shall take the sorrows of the Cryf as their own. Their hands shall be quick to help in trouble, and their
hearts shall be filled with understanding…’”

Eiddig stopped his recitation of the Holy Words. Immediately, one of the Elders stood. It was a female this time.

“I be Berla,” she said, “Elder of the Seventh Clan. I say that once more the vision of Eiddig-Sant hath been clear for he
hath seen and known these Up-worlders as the Travelers foretold by Dewi-Sant. I say, let what remaineth
of the Holy Words be spoken unto our ears and unto the ears of these Up-Worlders so that the Cryf may show that we serve the
Will of the Divine in this, as in all things.”

“So say I,” came another voice and then another. Lysandra counted twelve all told; the Elders were in agreement.

“Sixteen times did the Divine reveal unto the great Dewi-Sant what was to be. It is of the Thirteenth Showing we speak now,”
Eiddig said.

Like the Thirteenth Scroll
, Lysandra thought.
Does the number mean something? Something I don’t understand?

She heard Eiddig’s footsteps coming closer. He stopped in front of Renan, and she wondered if the priest was aware that his
hand tightened on her own, or if he even realized that he still held her hand though she no longer needed his guidance. It
felt so right, so comfortable for their hands to be joined, that she had stopped noticing until just now.

“Thou art truly a Servant of the Divine,” Eiddig said, somewhere between a question and a statement.

“I am a priest,” Renan answered, “a Guide for my people.”

“For thee was Dewi-Sant given these words. Listen well, for thou knowest that the Divine giveth only the Truth, but the Truth
be ofttimes difficult to hear.”

“I will listen,” Renan assured him, “and I will hear.”

“Well dost thou speak and with wisdom—as must a Guide.”

Lysandra heard the little note of surprise in Eiddig’s voice as he said this. She wondered if Renan was aware that his status
among the Cryf had just been elevated.
That could help us
, she thought.

“To thee, then, be these Words spoken,” Eiddig continued. “
‘Thou art the Eyes of Guidance, for thou hast
journeyed long upon the Path of Light. But past secrets follow thee and can not remain hidden. The Light shineth on all. All
that was, is, and the Holy Hand hath not given in vain. To wound can be to heal; to strengthen can destroy
.’”

Lysandra heard Renan’s sharp intake of breath. What past secrets could the priest be hiding? She realized again how little
she knew about the man with whom she was traveling. Yet their paths seemed locked together, at least for now, and she did
not doubt that it was right.

Eiddig now turned to her. “To thee, Healer, do the Holy Words also speak,” he said. “
’Thou art the Hand of Prophecy, for thou hast walked a path of tears and knowest both the good and the evil that liveth in
human hearts. Though thy tears be now unshed, they keep thee from receiving all the Hand of the Divine waiteth to give. A
heart filled with fear and anger hath room for little else. Thy true self lies hidden in the darkness of thy choosing. Choose
instead Light, that another may also See.”’

These words cut like a sword into Lysandra’s soul. Although she recognized their truth, they also filled her with new questions.
What more was she supposed to receive? The gifts she now possessed had already turned her life upside down and taken her far
from the peaceful life she craved.

But was it peace—or was it hiding? What Light was she, a blind woman, to choose, and how could she make
anyone
see, who could not see herself?

“Of thy third companion,” Eiddig continued, barely pausing in his recitation, “are these words given, but to thee, Healer,
not to thy beast.
‘Here, in the Heart of Truth, be the treasure which thou must guard, for such hearts be not given in vain and they come as
teachers as well
as friends. Learn, and much thou seekest will be revealed… and not unto thee alone…’”

Eiddig was not finished. He now turned to the Elders. “To the Cryf doth Dewi-Sant now say ‘…
The Strong have been Guardians throughout the ages and Guardians ye shall remain. Unto ye must the Travelers come, if they
be true, and unto ye they return. They shall bring the One in whom the Core of Wisdom awaiteth release. Fear not to lend your
aid, for the Wisdom cometh not for the Up-world alone. Wisdom is given of the Divine and is given that all may walk again
together in peace. The arms of the Strong must carry Wisdom unto your midst, and the ears of the Strong shall hear the first
Words that arise from Wisdom’s Core. Ye shall hear and know that they be Truth
.


’But if in your fear, born of past sorrows, you have turned from the Words of the Divine, then shall fear and sorrow forever
be your Way. Your hidden doors shall be opened, your hallowed places destroyed, your men shall know of death and your women
bondage and tears. What awaiteth ye, awaiteth all. Now is the time of Choosing.’”

Finally, Eiddig’s voice grew silent. Lysandra was aware of the sound of her heart pounding in her chest. Then she became aware
of something else. The world before her looked again like gray fog lifting in the early morn; her
Sight
was returning.

Lysandra wanted to shout with the joy of the moment, to get up and dance around the room. She did neither. Instead, she gave
Renan’s hand a little squeeze. When he turned his head toward her, she
saw
the movement—not clearly, still as through a fog, but she
saw
.

From the entry to the cave, there came a noise. All, including Lysandra, turned toward it. Each second lessened
the fog clouding Lysandra’s
Sight
and when a young male Cryf entered the cave, she could
see
him.

The newcomer knelt before Eiddig, and the Elder put a hand upon his bowed and waiting head.
A prayer? A blessing?
Lysandra wondered. Then the elder Cryf reached down and by the elbow, raised the younger one to his side.

Lysandra’s
Sight
was continuing to clear; details were coming into focus. This Cryf looked barely into adulthood. His posture was straighter
than any of the Elders’; the hair that covered his body was finer, shinier, and less dense, and his face was more visible
and unlined. He seemed to radiate youth, health, and strength.

“Here be Talog,” Eiddig announced, “son of the Twelfth Clan. In him, the Voice of the Divine is strong. Although he hath seen
but twenty cycles, already he traineth in the Way of the Guide. I, Eiddig, say now that the Cryf remain true. Never hath any
of our kind forsaken the Ways of the Divine nor hath our heart closed unto the warnings of the Holy Words. I, therefore, say
that Talog must now join these Travelers, to be the Arms of the Strong that carrieth Wisdom’s Core back unto our Realm.”

“So say the Twelfth Clan,” came a voice from among the Elders.

“So say the Third Clan.”

“So say the Fifth Clan.”

Soon all of the voices clamored their agreement with Eiddig’s words.

Renan leaned close to Lysandra. “I don’t think they’re going to ask us,” he whispered. “But I’ve no objection. Do you?”

Lysandra shook her head. “You keep saying the scroll brought us here for a reason,” she whispered back. “This must be it.”

As if to give lie to Renan’s words, Eiddig brought the young Cryf to stand before Renan and Lysandra.

“Ye are the Travelers whom the Cryf have long awaited, and our Choosing has been made. But from ye must come the final words.
Thou art the Eyes of Guidance who findeth the pathways through the darkness of unknowing; thou art the Hand of Prophecy that
holdeth the power to release Wisdom’s Core; thou art the Heart of Loyalty and Truth whose ways contain a lesson for us all.
Do ye accept Talog as your companion, to guide ye through the Realm of the Cryf and the hidden places that await, and to give
the strength of the Cryf unto your moments of need?”

Renan spoke first. Being familiar with the old tongue and the language of prophecy, he used some of Eiddig’s stylized manner
of speech.

“I, whom thou hast named Eyes of Guidance, accept Talog as one of our number. From this time forth we shall be four, as are
the four directions to the earth from which all things arise. Now we are complete.”

After he had finished, he nudged Lysandra gently. She, too, tried to fit her words to the tone now established.

“I, whom thou hast called the Hand of Prophecy,” she began, the words coming far more hesitantly to her lips than to Renan’s,
“accept Talog as one of our number. He will be our companion and our brother. Together we shall walk through both darkness
and light.”

She could think of nothing more to say. Instead, she lifted her hand from Cloud-Dancer’s head to see the wolf’s reaction to
Talog. If Cloud-Dancer would not accept him, then no words mattered.

Cloud-Dancer crept forward. Lysandra kept a close watch, using the full powers of her restored
Sight
to notice any warning signals and quickly call the wolf back
if necessary. Cloud-Dancer, however, seemed more curious than threatening. He reached Talog and began to sniff, walking around
the young Cryf three times.

Then, suddenly, the wolf stood on his hind feet and placed his paws on Talog’s shoulders, tongue hanging out one side in a
relaxed canine grin. Cloud-Dancer had given his approval.

Lysandra laughed, and the sound dissolved the tension that had filled the cave ever since their arrival. Everyone grinned
at Cloud-Dancer’s antics as he licked the young Cryf’s face before returning to sit beside Lysandra.

“So be it,” said Eiddig, his voice lighter than it had ever sounded to Lysandra. “Talog shall go Up-world with the Travelers…
and may the Hand of the Divine guide and protect ye all. All that the Cryf possess that might give ye aid shall now be prepared.
Rest and gather your strength, trusting that all shall be done that may be done.”

Lysandra, her hand once more resting on Cloud-Dancer’s head, gave a sigh of relief. Her
Sight
had returned and they would soon be on their way again. That meant this was all one step closer to being over—and she and
Cloud-Dancer were that much closer to going home.

BOOK: The Thirteenth Scroll
7.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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