Page 78 of Into the West

“How about a look at some forges,” Silvermoon suggested then, with a smile, “and we’ll address some of your other concerns.”

By the time they emerged, up another staircase that let out near the vegetable gardens and was concealed by a false boulder, he had seen everything that his people would need in the case of a siege. And he was confident that yes, all of them could fit down there, and fit comfortably, and so could enough of the herds that even if everything was lost, they could rebuild. He was also quite sure that for living quarters, given a choice between the tunnels and their barges, most people would be sticking to their barges. It was dim down there by human standards, and claustrophobic, because the tunnels were intended for the hertasi, after all, and humid. Of course, the “dim” part could be solved with mage-lights, but claustrophobia could not. The ceilings were just high enough for humans to walk down here. People as tall as Hakkon and Ivar would probably be touching the ceiling.

“Something I need to point out,” Silvermoon said, as they stood there blinking, waiting for their eyes to adjust. “When we move the Heartstone, we won’t actually move it. We’ll transfer most of the power from it to our new Heartstone. When we do that, we’ll leave just enough for the Veil to stay up for about three years. Presumably all of your people will have built themselves some kind of homes and won’t be living on their barges then.”

“Or they’ll have built something around their barges,” Kordas amended. “And if they haven’t, those things are supposed to last a hundred years, and it’s no worse in them than living in a very small cottage.”

“Well, when we do that, the above-ground portion of the Heartstone will crumble, leaving the root, somewhere about the level of the hertasi tunnels. I plan to have the hertasi create a room around it.”

Kordas tilted his head curiously. “The Heartstone is not all that far from the end of the building you are ‘growing’ for me . . .”

Silvermoon grinned and tossed his long hair. “Yes. Once the Heartstone is down, I’m going to start an annex growing that will hold the root in its basement. Not all my fellows are going to be . . . amenable to that. So I’m doing it this way, without bothering to tell the Council, and waiting until the last moment to give you access to it. As they say, it is easier to get forgiveness than permission.”

“You surprise me—” Kordas said. “That you’d leave us with an object that powerful when you really don’t know us.”

“Ah, but I do. Your actions coming here speak far more loudly than any entreaties could.” He smiled slightly. “I think you will be good stewards of this place, and I want to make sure you have all the help you need to succeed. I’m not entirely certain what you can actually do with the root, but it’s a powerful artifact on its own, and it does record everything that happens around it, and will continue to do so long after we are gone. So you may be able to use it to learn some of what we can do.”

Kordas took a moment to think about that. So far, as individuals, the Hawkbrother mages were the most powerful he had ever seen. Certainly Silvermoon would, by Imperial standards, be counted as an Adept. Being able to learn how they wove some of their magic? It would be priceless.

“This gift—” he stammered. “I just don’t know what to say, except thank you.”

“Oh!” Silvermoon suddenly said. “Oh, there is one thing more, but it has nothing to do with your buildings, the Heartstone, or the hertasi tunnels. Our mage Cloudcaller and your mage Wis have not yet worked out how to free the Truthseekers from their Doll shells, but as of this morning, they discovered how to allow them to communicate with their free siblings again.”

“They have?” Kordas felt his mouth stretching in a happy grin. “Silvermoon, that’s wonderful!”

“Well, yes, it is, because Elementals can talk to other kinds of Elementals, and once your Truthseekers can speak to their brethren, perhaps there is one of another Element that has the key to freeing your friends.” Silvermoon tucked his thumbs in the wide belt of his soft green robe.

“I truly hope so,” Kordas replied sincerely, as they left the vegetable garden and headed for a kind of airy, outdoor structure that the Valdemaran mages had taken for their own. What the original purpose had been, Kordas had no clue, but no one had objected to his mages making it more or less their headquarters. It had a roof to keep the rain off, but the walls were open panels full of vines, and the floor was a very soft and pleasant moss that apparently thrived on being trodden on. That wasn’t where they all actually lived—the Hawkbrother mages had their own houses, dwellings that they called ekeles, and the Valdemaran mages lived in their barges as almost everyone else did, but it was where they could gather and consult with each other. The fact that there was also one of those outdoor hot soaking pools that the Hawkbrothers liked so much very near the place was certainly part of the attraction.

The Hawkbrother Vale was so artfully constructed with carefully managed, lush growth that you could be within a few arm-lengths of someone and never know they were there unless they spoke. And even then, you would just make out a distant murmuring. So Kordas didn’t know how many of “his” mages would be in their pavilion until he and Silvermoon turned the corner into the short path that led to it.

Wis spotted him before he spotted Wis. “Kordas!” the mage called out happily. “Has Silvermoon told you the good news?”

“If it’s about making it possible for the Dolls to talk to the free vrondi, yes, he has,” Kordas replied. As a courtesy—as he had quickly learned to do here in the Vale—he and Silvermoon stayed on the “threshold” of the pavilion until they were invited inside.

“Come in!” The invitation came not from Wis, but from a Hawkbrother in light leathers with the texture of bark. This, presumably, was Cloudcaller. Like Silvermoon, his short hair was completely white, and his eyes were gray, the marks of a quite powerful mage. Kordas and Silvermoon crossed onto the moss, which looked so soft Kordas longed to take off his boots and walk barefooted on it.

“We’ve already set the spells in motion, using the messenger birds.” Wis whistled, and one of the brightly colored birds dropped down out of the rafters of the canopy to land on his outstretched finger. Kordas felt a silly surge of envy—as a boy he’d longed for birds to come to him spontaneously like that, but he’d never managed to make it happen.

Huh, but maybe it does, here. He whistled and held out his hand and a little bird with a curved, red beak the color of a ripe pear flitted to his finger and looked at him expectantly. Kordas lit up with delight.

“If you aren’t going to give it a message, pet it,” Silvermoon said, holding out his own hand, so that a red-and-yellow bird did the same for him. Silvermoon put his index finger up to the bird, which enthusiastically rubbed its face and neck against his fingernail, scratching itself. Kordas offered his finger to his bird, which did the same, and he felt elation as his childhood dream came true.

“So we used the birds as carriers for the spell completion,” said Cloudcaller. “More efficient, since they can go faster than humans can, and the Dolls don’t have to come off of their work for it. At this point, I think all the Dolls can talk to their vrondi kin. And any other Elemental they come into contact with.”

“Did you break something that was on them, or add something to the old spell?” he asked.

“Added something,” Wis told him. “We tried teasing out just the strand that kept them from talking to their kin and kind, but it was just too tangled up. By accident or design, those Impie mages created something that’s such an intricate knot that it’ll all have to come off at once. The frangible vessels the vrondi are held in are glass.”

Kordas frowned. That was not what he wanted to hear. This meant that it was going to take a lot of power to free each Doll, and doing so was going to release a lot of heat. And that meant he’d have to free them slowly and painstakingly, one at a time.

But we promised. And we’ll do it.

He quickly smoothed his expression into one of approval. “Wis, Cloudcaller, excellent work. Keep working on how we can free them altogether, but meanwhile, at least they aren’t limited to communicating only with their fellow Dolls.”

“I absolutely agree. Well done,” Silvermoon said warmly, and lifted his hand to assist his little messenger bird into the air. Kordas did the same. Off they flew with a whir of wings, chasing through the air out of sight.

“Now,” Silvermoon continued, “shall we discuss Midwinter festivities?”