ZYGRADON (5 page)

"In the spring, you will travel to Wynystrys with the older boys, through the
tunnel. You will study with the scholars and enchanters there. The lessons and magic on
the island are Rey'kil lessons and magic, but they are different from what you learn here
in the Stronghold. It is good for you to learn different ways, to taste and search and test,
until you find what matches the song of your soul best.

"From full moon to new moon, you will go and then return to me. Every full
moon you will go to Wynystrys, and every new moon you will come home, because
you still have much to learn here. Then, when you are ten, you will spend every summer
on Wynystrys." She laughed, blinking away unreasonable tears when the boy's eyes
widened and glowed and his mouth fell open in a perfect 'o' of astonishment. "Does this
please you?"

Le'esha closed her eyes and reveled in the delighted embrace and laughter of
the boy who was the only son she would ever have. She laughed and fought tears. A
winter storm, nearly as fierce as the one that lashed the coast the day Mrillis was born,
fell on them while they sat there, and she didn't feel it for the warmth and joy and love
that enfolded them both.

When Mrillis came home to the Stronghold at every new moon, Ceera waited
for him at the barred door of the tunnel. She hid in the shadows where no adults would
notice a little girl, until the door had been closed and barred and the magic barriers
repaired to prevent invasion. There was always a chance that the Nameless One would
find a way to circumvent Rey'kil magic with his blood magic, take over one of the
tunnels that compressed distances, and use them to invade and destroy Rey'kil
enclaves.

Then, when all the adults had left and the other boys had hurried off to find
their mothers, Ceera left the shadows and held out her hand. Sometimes, Mrillis would
take her hand and start walking--fighting a grin as he teased her. Ceera simply stood still,
holding tightly to his hand so he either had to stop or drag her down the passageway.
With a snort on his part or a giggle on hers, they would stop. He would reach into his
belt pouch and bring out whatever treat he had brought her.

Every time he came home, he brought something. A nearly perfect shell found
on the beach of Wynystrys. A whistle one of the teachers had carved for him--or, as time
went on, a whistle he had carved himself. A packet of sweets. The first apple of the
summer. Ribbons for her hair. Drawings of people Mrillis had seen come to the island to
consult with High Scholar Breylon or places on the island that he wanted her to
see.

The first year passed quickly. Full of wonders and lessons that occupied the
boy's mind. He listened intently when it was his turn to serve at the High Scholar's table,
and heard tales of historic and recent battles. He learned battle strategy and the bitter
exigencies of war without realizing he learned at all. He became a favorite of the High
Scholar's personal guards, the Deadly Twins, as Kathal and Tathal were called. The two
brothers let him ride along when they took the ferry to the mainland to hunt. They gave
him his first personal bow and helped him devise his own mark to identify his arrows, so
they could be retrieved when he accompanied hunting parties.

He made friends, and had his feelings hurt when one of the boys he trusted
used that trust to make him the butt of jokes, or to take advantage of his favored
position with their teachers and guardians. Mrillis learned early that it was not always a
good thing to be smart and to know all the answers and to figure out puzzles faster than
everyone else. He learned which boys he could offer to team with, without insulting
them. He learned which boys pretended friendship until the lesson or task was finished,
and tried to take all the credit for success.

An older boy, Nixtan, who lived near the coastal town of Quenlaque, was a
friend only while both boys could contribute something to the friendship. Whenever he
fell behind Mrillis, or other boys taunted him for spending too much time with someone
younger, he scowled and walked away. But Nixtan always came back, gruff and silently
apologetic, and Mrillis liked him enough to forgive his inconsistent friendship.

Nixtan taught Mrillis about ships and the vagaries of wind and water and
currents and how to navigate by the stars. Sometimes, when the nights were too hot and
their guardians not quite as watchful, the boys slipped out to the shore to sleep on the
cool sand. On those nights, Mrillis and Nixtan talked quietly for hours of sailing around
the world when they were grown up. They would visit Moerta and perhaps find another
continent that the Estall had not given to anyone.

The spring after Mrillis turned eight, Encindi attacked a traveling party only a
few hours after they left Wynystrys.

He learned about it by accident. He had carved decorations into a wooden tray
for Le'esha as an equinox gift, to hold her ink and quills, parchment sheets and sealing
wax. He didn't give it to her when he first arrived because it had been packed among his
clothes. Ceera helped him unpack and the two children hurried down the passageways
and stairs to reach Le'esha's office to give her the present. They arrived in time to see
High Scholar Breylon walk through the door into her office and close it with a loud,
decisive thud.

"Come on." Ceera grabbed Mrillis' hand. He didn't resist, stunned to see Breylon
at the Stronghold without warning.

Ceera led him down another passage and up a small ladder hidden in a crevice
in the rock. She went onto her hands and knees and crawled down a sloping, curving
tunnel into the rock. Mrillis left the gift tray safely wedged between the ladder and the
wall, and followed her.

They came out into a spherical chamber hollowed out of the stone. Soft light
penetrated the wall, enough to let him see Ceera's impish, smiling face. She held her
finger to her lips and pressed her ear to the translucent stone.

Mrillis did likewise--and heard Le'esha and High Scholar Breylon talking. Their
voices were muted. He was stunned to realize that only a thin layer of mineral separated
him from the Queen of Snows' office.

"All four boys were slaughtered," Breylon said. He sounded ragged with fury or
grief or perhaps both. "The youngest was hacked to pieces. It can only be as we've
feared."

"How much did he look like Mrillis?" Le'esha whispered, but her voice reached
the children clearly, as if she sat with them in the bubble in the rock, instead of in the
other room.

"Enough to be a target of someone who has never seen our boy." Something
thudded.

Mrillis imagined Breylon had slammed his fist down on the table.

"Why now? After all these years, all our vigilance. Why attack now? Why not
attack the Stronghold during a starshower? Why not during that epidemic four years ago,
when people were dying faster than we could bring the sick into the healing rooms? It
would have been impossible to tell friend from foe, barbarian from Noveni from Rey'kil.
He could have kidnapped our boy and been halfway to Flintan before we realized it.
Why now?"

"Perhaps... perhaps he has been unsure Mrillis even lived," Le'esha said.

The familiar sound of Le'esha's chair scraping on the stone floor sounded close
to Mrillis' ear, and he guessed the bubble sat low in the wall, behind her
worktable.

"It's elegantly simple," she continued. "Talented Rey'kil boys begin their studies
on Wynystrys by age eight or nine. Simply wait along the most traveled trails, attack any
party with a young, dark boy--because M'reena and Illis were both dark--and kill
everyone."

"And ensure that no matter how close a healer is to hand, no one could revive
the boy who was their target." Breylon sighed loudly. "As always, my dear, you see the
most bitter facts quite clearly. In the spring, with the rain and the trails deep in mud, it
would be easy to stage an ambush and cruelly difficult to run for help. How many boys
must die before he realizes he can't reach our boy?"

"None." Her voice snapped, hard and sharp, echoing through the bubble where
the children crouched. "We must do something to protect all the children."

A sob escaped her, making both children flinch and look at each other in shock.
Le'esha rarely ever cried.

"Then it will be war. We can no longer be satisfied with defending our people
and pushing back the Encindi to their own territory. If we cannot destroy the Nameless
One, then we must destroy his tools and tear away the seat of his power."

"But how?" Le'esha whispered, and her shadow appeared in the middle of the
translucent patch.

Mrillis reached up a hand and nearly touched the shadow of her face. He
didn't, though. He had too much respect for her powers. She might sense him through
that fragile contact.

Instead, he turned around in the confined space and crawled back the way he
had come. Ceera followed without hesitating. Neither one said a word until they had
retrieved the gift tray, climbed down the ladder, and retreated to Ceera's cubbyhole
room. They huddled on the thick rug of sheepskins and simply looked at each
other.

"How did you find that place?" he asked, needing to speak but not quite ready
to approach what they had heard.

He felt as if someone had slammed a fist into his belly, just high enough to keep
him from breathing. He could hardly make his mind grasp the enormity of what he had
heard: Boys had died, murdered by the Nameless One. And the Nameless One had been
looking for him, specifically.

Why? What had he ever done?

"Shielding spells failed during the thaw," Ceera said with a shrug. "There was
water everywhere. Kayla saw the crack in the rock. The big girls got a ladder and we
found the tunnel."

"Do the ladies know?"

"No." She made a face and hunched her shoulders. "If they knew, they'd fill it in.
And our Lady would make it disappear." She sighed. "Maybe she should. Anyicka says
people who listen where they shouldn't always hear bad things about themselves."

Mrillis snorted. That had certainly proved true today.

"Why does he want to kill you?" she whispered.

"I don't know." Mrillis settled back, pushing his spine hard against the chilly
stone wall. "I haven't done anything to make big enemies. My father was a great warrior.
He died trying to sneak into the Nameless One's fortress."

"Maybe he did get in. Maybe he took something, and now the Encindi are
trying to get it back, and they think you have it?"

"Maybe." He nodded. It made sense, once he thought of his father. The
Nameless One was cruel enough to punish the children of his enemies. What had the
mighty warrior Illis done to the Nameless One, just before he died, that would have the
rebel Rey'kil enchanter seeking revenge eight years later?

* * * *

A net woven of darkness chased Mrillis through his dreams. Through it, he
saw the spider's web of light that had appeared when he saved Ceera from the fire. He
stumbled, twisting and turning, trying to outrun the dark net. If he could touch one
strand of the web of light, he would be safe.

Twice, the net wrapped around his legs, tangled his steps, threw him to the
ground. The strands of the net burned. They were sticky, icy and he could hear his flesh
sizzle as if touched by flames. Each time he fell, Mrillis heaved and kicked and lunged to
his feet, escaping the net.

He fell out of bed and woke. Mrillis huddled on the sheepskins spread on the
floor, clutched the side of his cot and tried not to be ill. His dreams, as violent as they
had become, hadn't disturbed the other boys in the dormitory.

He didn't go back to sleep for the rest of the night. He didn't try.

The next night, he dreamed
a dark, faceless man tried to bring the sea up
over Wynystrys, to drown him and sweep him into the depths. Mrillis ran across the
island, unable to find Breylon, Kathal or Tathal to protect him. Dark clouds gathered
around him, choking mist that clung to his limbs like mud. The faceless man laughed and
the dark clouds grew thin and long and turned into cords that chased him like black
snakes. No matter where he ran on the island, he couldn't escape them.

Far off in the distance, Mrillis saw a glimmer of light. He leaped high to
escape a cord that hissed across the ground under his feet. Mrillis reached for the light
and stayed aloft. The harder he reached for the light, the higher he flew, and faster, until
he streaked through the air like an eagle.

He reached the source of the light, and it was the spider's web. Mrillis
reached for it.

Incredible pain wrapped around his foot, sinking burning teeth into his
flesh. He halted in mid-air and looked back. A dark cord wrapped around his ankle.
Snarling, he stretched both arms out, reaching for the web.

He touched one thin, pale golden strand. Light exploded in his eyes. Mrillis
let out a shout and flung up his arms to protect his face.

In the split second before he closed his eyes, he saw two faces. One was a
red-haired, blue-eyed boy who stared at him in wide-eyed horror. The other was
Le'esha.

The dream shattered and Mrillis opened his eyes to find himself curled up on
the floor on his side, drenched in sweat. The shout still rang in his throat. Several boys sat
up, outlined in the soft, shielded light that sat by the door of the dormitory. Two sighed
and curled up and went back to sleep. The third snarled a complaint and heaved a
pillow at Mrillis. He barely felt the soft thump against his back.

The door banged open and Le'esha raced into the room, followed by Theana
and Healer Aelix. The husky healer vaulted the cot and went to her knees next to Mrillis.
She cupped his head in her large, gentle hands, and a moment later sighed.

"Not even scorched, Lady." She helped Mrillis sit up, and winked at him in the
light from the lamp Theana held over them.