3 When Darkness Falls.8 (58 page)

"I think we've all remembered," Kellen said, still sounding slightly groggy. "I'm just not sure what we've remembered. I remember being a… an Elf. And doing a lot of fighting. And then, just when I'd gotten everything sorted out,
They
showed up to ruin everything. So I had to start over again."

"And I," Jermayan said, "I remember making the Great Pact, for I was, then as now, an Elven Mage. Yet even that was not enough to stop
Them
, for
Their
master was on the field of battle as well."

"And I remember what I did to send
He Who Is
back where he came from. But I don't see how I can make it work!" Idalia said.

"
Idalia,
" Jermayan said, his voice taut with frustration.

Idalia made a rueful noise, half laughter, half despair. "Tell me, if you can, then, how I am to gain the consent of every living creature in the land to cast a Greater Summoning — in less than a day."

On the face of it, the question was absurd, but Jermayan gave it serious thought.

"We must ask Andoreniel."

"Andoreniel! Jermayan, you
saw
him. He is too weak even to speak!"

"For this, he must find the strength. If anyone knows the answer, it is the King. There are secrets in the House of Leaf and Star held closely against the time of greatest need. And we are in great need now."

There was no way for Idalia to argue with this assessment. All the Wildmages had felt the Shadow grow in strength over the past several sennights, without understanding how, or why. If there was
anything
she could do to keep He Who Is from granting the Endarkened ultimate power, she must do it at once.

"We'd better go and ask him, then," she said, getting to her feet.

* * * * *

"YOU'LL be careful, right?" Kellen asked. "Whatever you end up doing?"

He was preparing to return to the camp at Halacira. As much as he wanted to stay and see this through to the end, Kellen knew that his place was there, not here. An army needed its commander, no matter how much his heart wanted to stay with his friend and his sister.

"I'll be at least as careful as you would be in my place — and probably more so, little brother," Idalia assured him gravely. "It's a simple spell, really — assuming I can figure out some way to gain the consent of all the land in less than a day, of course. And assuming the Allies that Vielissar Farcarinon summoned up are still around after all this time. But if I can, and they are, I just need to go and call them, and see if they're still willing to help."

"Simple," Kellen said, with a faint smile.

"As simple as anything ever gets," Idalia said. "It worked once."

"Then we'll hope it works again, for all our sakes."

"And if it does — and probably even if it doesn't — I'll see you soon," Idalia said.

She gave him a quick hug. Kellen mounted Shalkan, and the unicorn trotted off across the snow. She watched after him until the two of them, unicorn and rider, had vanished.

"Well, come on then, Jermayan. Let's go do the impossible."

Jermayan bowed and offered her his arm in an exaggerated courtly gesture.

Idalia laughed briefly and strode off ahead of him.

* * * * *

IT was still several hours before Idalia and Jermayan could speak to Andoreniel, for when they reached his bedchamber, he was sleeping, and Nelirtil refused to waken him. Even though her errand was urgent, Idalia had to agree: Andoreniel's life still hung by a thread, and what she had come to ask of him would severely tax what little strength he had regained.

What she needed, nothing short of a miracle could gain her, in any event. The spell of Kindolhinadetil's Mirror, which had merely required the consent of the Allied Army, had taken most of a day to put into place, and the army had been relatively small, and all gathered into one convenient location. For this spell, everyone in the land must be asked, even those who would certainly say "no" such as the Armethaliehans. Even in summer, in peacetime, just the asking would take moonturns…

At last, Nelirtil grudgingly admitted that Andoreniel was awake.

"I trust this is as important as you believe it is, Idalia," the Elven Healer said, with a heavy sigh.

Idalia went in and seated herself beside the Elven King's bedside. She took his hand in hers, very gently. The skin was papery and dry, the once-firm flesh wasted away, until the hand she now held was no more than a claw of bone and sinew. It was the drawn-out fever that had consumed him so; most of the plague victims died long before they reached this state.

It meant that his recovery would be a thing of many long sennights.

She spoke slowly, carefully, in a low even voice. Explaining what she must do, and what she needed. The part of her trained as a Healer rebelled against doing this to a patient under her care — what Andoreniel needed now was rest, and more rest. But the need of the land in his care — of the lands beyond his care — was greater even than that.

His dark eyes watched her face, but he gave no other sign of consciousness.

At last he took a deep breath, obviously summoning all his will in order to speak.

"Tokens… Council Chambers… " His eyes closed again.

"Thank you, Andoreniel," Idalia whispered. She could feel in her bones what the effort had cost him. She would ask nothing more.

"The King has answered my need," she said to Nelirtil, as she rose to her feet.

Nelirtil inclined her head. "Do not come to him again, Idalia," she said. The tone of her voice was all-but-pleading.

"I swear to you that I will not, Nelirtil," Idalia answered.

* * * * *

JERMAYAN rose to his feet as Idalia entered the outer chamber.

"More riddles," she sighed. "Maybe you can help solve this one."

"I shall do all that is within my power," Jermayan answered, puzzled.

* * * * *

THE Council Chamber was located at the center of the House of Leaf and Star. It was a high-ceilinged room, paneled and floored in smooth pale wood, completely circular, and unlike nearly every other room of Elven making, had no windows at all. It was illuminated by a large hanging chandelier of mirrored lamps that, when lit, rendered the chamber as bright as day.

As they entered, Jermayan lit the lamps with a wave of his hand. Light flooded the room, illuminating the familiar furnishings.

They closed the door behind them and looked around.

In the center of the room was the frostwood council table, with the Great Seal of Leaf and Star inlaid in its center in purest silver. Set around the table were the Council chairs. Two were draped in white, indicating that two of the Council were dead. One more was draped in green — Ashaniel's seat — for she was absent. The colored glass mosaics set into the backs of the remaining chairs sparkled brightly in the lamplight.

Hung around the edge of the room were thirteen narrow banners of brightly colored silk, each bearing a single elaborate symbol worked upon it in shining silver. The green one duplicated the design inset into the table. There was a yellow one that oddly resembled the Great Seal of Armethalieh, but none of the rest were at all familiar to Idalia.

"I told Andoreniel what I meant to do, and what I needed. He said something about tokens, and the Council Chamber, but that was all he was able to tell me, and to say that much took all his strength," Idalia said. She looked around again. "There's nothing here but the furniture. And the banners. Is there?" she added unnecessarily.

"The banners are said to be the tokens of the Great Alliance among the Peoples of the Light," Jermayan said slowly. "Perhaps they ate… something more."

"Only one way to find out," Idalia said.

The next several minutes was spent climbing up on chairs and detaching the banners from the walls, until they lay in a multicolored pile in the center of the Council table. If they were indeed as old as Jermayan suggested, they were in very good condition. And not dusty at all.

She ran the silk through her fingers more carefully, closing her eyes. If she could put a name to what she was doing, it would be
listening,
in much the way she had once listened, using gan stones as markers, to find the source of the drought attacking the Elven Lands.

"There
is
magic here," Idalia said slowly. "Jermayan, I'm pretty sure these are what we need. If they are… promises to help against
Them
if
They
come again, then the consent I need for a Greater Summoning has already been asked and given. But I need to test them, to see if that's really what they are… and to see if they're still good."

She began rolling the banners up together into a tight bundle.

* * * * *

IT had been many moonturns since Idalia had seen her small house in Sentarshadeen, and so much had happened in the intervening sennights that it seemed as if the place belonged to a stranger. But she had left the dwelling in good order, and everything she needed to cast her spells of Seeking and Knowing was here.

Although the floor would be — perhaps — a bit the worse for her efforts.

She quickly brought a small brazier, a bowl, and a bottle of wine from the kitchen. The herbs she had ready in her beltpouch. With Jermayan's help, Idalia spread the banners out on the living room floor, careful to keep them from touching each other, and settled herself in the midst of them.

Jermayan stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching.

Quickly she kindled the charcoal. The bowl she would use for her scrying spell was already half-filled with water. Now she added wine to the water, floated fern leaf upon the water — for the scrying spell—and sprinkled other herbs onto the burning charcoal, finishing with three drops of her blood — to Find.

Then she waited.

* * * * *

WHEN I call, will you come?

Suddenly Idalia was… elsewhere.

"We will come, son of the House of Caerthalien. Who holds our token holds our pledge, for the aid of all our people, in whatever hour, for whatever purpose. This consent is given freely and without constraint, with our whole hearts and our whole spirits, for the good of all, and against the Shadow. Only the death of all our kind will release us from this pledge."

She was standing in a place she had never seen, an enormous timbered hall. It was not of Elven make, but neither was it of any other design she could recognize. Before her stood a Centaur… King.

But the Centaurs had not had a King for uncounted centuries.

The Centaur held out something to her. A bundle of red silk. She felt her hands reach out to take it — only they weren't her hands. They were slender, elegant, yet powerful and masculine, wearing rings she had often seen Andoreniel wear.

"In the name of Leaf and Star, Herdsman Reuden, Caerthalien thanks you for this pledge, and vows to hold it against a day darker than any we have yet seen."

The Centaur inclined his head — equal to equal — and turned away.

"When I call you, will you come?"

"We will come, son of the House of Caerthalien."

Once again the ritual was repeated. This time two stood before her — great shaggy creatures towering eight feet high, looking almost like bears.

No, not bears.
Bearwards.
A race long-vanished from the land. This time, the banner was orange.

Again and again the ritual was repeated.

It was like and unlike the vision she had experienced in the ice-egg. Then, she had
been
Vielissar Farcarinon. Now it was simply as if she were watching through another's eyes, still herself, but seeing and hearing all that the other heard and saw.

The merfolk, clad in a shimmering veil of water and magic, presenting a banner the color of their own ocean.

The folk of the High Reaches — who were also, Idalia somehow knew with the insight of her vision, someday to be the Lostlanders and Wildlanders — with a banner the pale blue of their deepest winter snows.

The firesprites, also veiled in magic to protect the others there from their flame, with a banner of deep rose.

The Shining Folk, in forms too many to count, and a banner of shimmering gray.

The Fauns, and a banner of palest green.

The Minotaurs. A black banner.

The War Mages of Armethalieh, men and women together, in bright armor and gray robes, bringing a banner as golden as the sun.

We will come in whatever hour. Who holds our token holds our pledge. Our consent is freely given.

The vision faded.

As Idalia opened her eyes, she saw most of the banners crumble away to dust. The peoples who had given those pledges were not here to redeem them now. Only the Lostlanders, Wildlanders, and Mountainfolk; the Centaurs, the Fauns, the Shining Folk, the Elves, and the Armethaliehans remained of those who had pledged that day.

But the banner of Armethalieh burst into flame.