The Grand Crusade (76 page)

The surprise that disappointed her concerned the DragonCrown. Many impassioned speeches were made advocating its destruction, with Rymramoch speaking for dragons and offering the three fragments they had would the rest of the world agree to it. Kerrigan Reese, the new Grand Magister of Vilwan, explained what would be done, and even noted the various safeguards that he would put in place to make sure he did not become another Kirun, but that was all for naught.

Some of the crowns found his rise to power too ruthless for them to believe what he was saying. Alexia had spoken in his defense, but that mattered not. Too many of them still could not trust him. Moreover, as long as the DragonCrown could still be available, some crowns dreamed it might become theirs. That was reason enough for them to bar its destruction forever.

The example they make of Scrainwood is not someone who was wrong, but someone who failed in his attempts to take power.

In the end the dragons retained their three fragments and were said to have hidden them away in inaccessible places. Of the other four, two returned to Fortress Draconis and one was given to Tagothcha for safekeeping. The piece in Maroth returned to the Communion, with only Alexia, Crow, and Kerrigan being aware of its existence. While Rymramoch was able to identify the dragons who had their Truestones incorporated into the Crown, no one could tell the source of the Truestone in the centerpiece. Until that could be done and someone could figure out what effect it might have on someone wearing it, Alexia felt certain the DragonCrown would never be reconstructed and destroyed.

As if he was aware of how her thoughts were running, Crow reached over and took her left hand in his right and squeezed it gently. His long hair had been gathered at the nape of his neck with a leather tie fashioned from the ends of the cord binding his mask to him. King Erlestoke had revoked all edicts concerning Tarrant Hawkins, and a new coin had been struck with the Norrington and Hawkins crests on one side and the king’s profile on the other. Coins with Scrainwood’s face on them were quickly and happily exchanged for the new one, and Oriosa’s minters were working all hours to meet demand.

Crow looked at her, and the mask he wore could not hide the joy on his face. “Soon, beloved, everything Resolute has waited and fought for will come true.”

“I know, Crow, I know.” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand back. “A century of effort is rewarded.”

The reviewing stand on which they stood faced the courtyard before thecori-iesci. It had all been cleared of brambles and debris from the Aurolani occupancy. Gaily colored banners, bunting, and ribbons had been hung from nearby buildings, pillars, and trees to dance on the breeze. It made for strange foliage, but matched the wonderful costumes the Vorquelves wore.

Down in the front ranks Alexia saw Banausic and Predator looking very proper in soft silks of green, blue, and silver. Amends had come all the way from Yslin and, after some fierce discussion, was allowed to be in the first group of forty to be bound to Vorquellyn. He had dressed very well and Alexia was pleased to see his split lip was nearly healed.

Closest to her she spotted Oracle and Resolute. The seer wore a gown of pale yellow, with copper ribbons decorating it at the sleeves and hem. Slightly wider ribbons of the same hue twined around her waist, then up over her body, hugging the bodice tightly to her. She wore her white hair unbound, but small white flowers had been tucked into it at her temples. The whole of her attire made her seem little more than a child, and the huge smile she wore only added to that impression.

Resolute, by contrast, seemed an incarnation of Kedyn, the god of war to whom Crow had long ago pledged himself. Resolute wore black hunting leathers from boots to shoulders. The jerkin had no sleeves, but the hooded cloak of gibberer skin—trimmed now with white pelt strips fromkryalniriat the hem and hood—hid his arms. Unlike anyone else, he wore his sword and, she had no doubt, had a pouch of bladestars on his belt. The hood effectively hid his expression and reminded her, just for a chilling moment, of the way Nefrai-kesh’s face had been veiled in Sebcia.

The doorway to thecorüescimelted away. Magarric emerged, followed by Isaura, Kerrigan Reese, and a huge stone behemoth that was the Norrington. Alexia had been told that at the time he killed Chytrine, the Norrington had appeared to be very much the embodiment of Will. Chytrine’s breath had vaporized him, but Isaura had cast a spell on him previously that allowed his body parts to merge back together if sundered. When Chytrine had breathed in the vapor, his form had coalesced inside her, allowing him to claw his way free and kill her. Over the months since then, more and more of the dust that had made him up had come back to him, returning him to the shape he had been when pulled from thecorüesci. Even so, his body had taken on some definition and, without much effort, Alexia could recognize Will in the creature’s face.

Magarric wore a rainbow robe with dozens of small ribbons hanging from it. Isaura followed in a gown white enough to match her hair. Kerrigan had adopted a Vilwanese robe of black, but circled his waist with a red rope. The

Norrington came last, unadorned, though his eyes did contain flames that flared up to lick at his forehead.

The ancient elf paused at the edge of the courtyard, opened and raised his hands. “We welcome you all, friends, children, and very special guests. Today we will see the fulfillment of a portion of the Norrington Prophecy. This day Vorquellyn will be redeemed. For over a century Chytrine’s creatures have held sway here. They desecrated our land. Those bound to it feel the pain of its rape, but we also know healing can happen. For while others have been of a different opinion, we know this to be true.”

Alexia saw Trawyn off to her right slowly smile and Qwc, who was seated on the elf’s shoulder, playfully tugged at a braided sidelock. Trawyn’s presence was a break with certain orthodox elven groups that had maintained any effort to redeem Vorquellyn would be doomed to failure. She’d left Loquellyn and its reconstruction effort over those differences. She had surrendered her title and all claim to her mother’s throne because of the disagreement. When she had spoken to Alexia of it, Trawyn had been surprised that her homeland did not indicate its feelings one way or another concerning her decision.

Magarric turned and drew the Norrington forward. The behemoth knelt easily, then sank back on his haunches. His right hand narrowed to a point and his left hand lay across his lap.

Kerrigan moved behind him, then held out his right hand and accepted Isaura’s left. They exchanged glances for a moment—Alexia did not know what to make of that—then began to chant in unison. Their words came in a tongue Alyx did not recognize, though its sibilant tones and the very antiquity of the sounds would have had her betting on dragon. The words themselves had substance and seemed to thrum in her chest. As they chanted—as the words picked up speed—power gathered.

Isaura’s white hair and gown began to glow with purple highlights. Alyx glanced at Crow and saw his beard and hair picking up the same highlights. Energy poured into Isaura, turning her into a noontime sun, then crept along her arm to spread to Kerrigan. The slender young man shook for a moment, then his voice strengthened and became louder.

The words beat at Alyx as if they were fat raindrops. Even more curiously, she felt the ground react as if they were. It seemed as if whenever a droplet struck the earth, an invisible puddle accepted it. The silent, ethereal rainstorm continued and even increased its pace as Isaura and Kerrigan chanted faster and faster. Alyx found herself mouthing the same syllables, and power tingled through her, too.

More swiftly came the words, harder and heavier came the power. The ground fairly rippled with impacts. They’d gone from blood-red to the pink of a newborn child’s cheek, with the same soft texture. And, Alexia could have sworn, the same clean scent.

Kerrigan brought his left hand to Force’s left shoulder and Isaura touched the stone creature on the right. The aura of power that had linked the two of them

now spread down to Force, but it did not engulf him. The light entered him at his shoulders. The fire in his eyes flared, then went from red-yellow to pure white, and disappeared altogether, with only the wavering images of Isaura and Kerrigan to mark where the invisible flames burned.

Force punched the point of his right hand into his left wrist. Molten blood began to drip, running down his thighs and hitting the ground. It pooled there for a moment, then a tendril found a crack between stones and Force’s blood sank into it. The Norrington contracted his left hand into a fist, pumping more blood out.

Alyx shivered as Force bled. Kerrigan had described to her in great detail what they would be doing to redeem Vorquellyn. As with most of his explanations of things thaumaturgical, she caught very little, but what she had recalled was vital. Isaura, having being born on and bound to Vorquellyn, was schooled in the Aurolani magicks that had destroyed the island. As she worked to break those spells, Kerrigan—who, likewise, had been born on Vorquellyn and therefore also had a link to it—would work spells to purge the island of the poisons instilled in it during the Aurolani occupation. Force, who had been reborn on andofVorquellyn, was fated to revitalize the island. His body, cleansed by dragonfire, had a vital essence that could quicken the island and bring it back to life.

A trembling that communicated itself through the ground began. The air seemed to hum and the stands squeaked as the wood shifted slightly. Outside the courtyard one of the blackened trees trembled. Its bark split, peeling away in dark curls as verdant growth thickened the branches and extended them. Deadwood fell with a clatter, then buds appeared. Most blossomed into leaves that unfurled with a silver hue. Blue flowers with yellow splashes exploded, filling each tree with color that rivaled the ribbons now hidden in argent splendor.

As those leaves shimmered the vibration grew. The stands groaned again but Alexia feared no collapse. The very wood that made them up wanted to grow again. Joints fused, locking more solidly than their peg construction had ever allowed, and branches sprouted here and there. The people in the stands laughed delightedly and, down below, even Resolute managed a smile.

Magarric turned away from the trio and raised his hands. “As our land is healed, so its people must be healed. Answer these questions from your hearts, and you will be joined to Vorquellyn forever and all evers.”

His eyes sharpened and his voice rose. “Do you acknowledge Vorquellyn as the place of your birth?”

The forty Vorquelves answered as one. “Yes and yes.”

“Is it your desire to serve your homeland with all you are?”

Again they replied in unison. “Yes and yes.”

With their second answer, the brilliant energy wreathing Isaura and Kerrigan began to seep upward through the ground. The stones of the courtyard began to

glow brightly enough to swallow boots and hems. The glow spread outward from the courtyard like a low fog and flowed beneath the stands, hiding the ground completely.

Magarric’s voice reached a high pitch.

“Do you acknowledge yourself, always and in all ways, a creature of Vorquellyn, its will to be your will, its joy your joy, its pain your pain, its life your life?”

“Yes and yes.”

The incandescent glow rose to the Vorquelves’ knees, then flashed up and out, blindingly brilliant. It encompassed everyone in the courtyard and those watching, linking them in an instant, fusing their futures and further binding their destinies. In that moment Alexia knew what it was to be Oracle, to see so many possibilities blaze past. The potential for the future of Vorquellyn seemed infinite.

At the same time Alexia felt something stir in her belly. Her grip on Crow’s hand tightened. Life burned within her.Lives. Two lives; her sons. She knew it in an instant and caught sight of them, clean-limbed and strong, riding outside Svarskya with their father on a trip north.

She looked at Crow as the glow began to fade. She tried to speak, but a lump caught in her throat.

He said nothing, but pulled her to him and hugged her tightly. He kissed her cheek, then whispered to her, “I know, Alexia, I know. Two sons. I saw them, and our daughters, too.”

Down below, in the courtyard, the Vorquelves all blinked. Amends and Predator, as unlikely a pair as could be thought possible, laughed and hugged each other. Banausic stared down at his hands. Even Oracle looked around, the dot in her copper eyes black instead of white. The way her eyes darted, Alexia felt certain she could see again, and smiled for her.

The smile died as Oracle’s gaze fell upon Resolute. His hood had fallen back. He met her stare openly—with pure silver eyes. His expression combined dismay with disbelief and just a touch of fury. Of those present, he alone had not been changed. By the same token, he had not been destroyed as had thekryalniriChytrine had tried to bind to Vorquellyn.

Hand in hand, Alexia and Crow descended to the courtyard and found Resolute. Trawyn and Qwc joined them and, for a moment, no one said anything. Then Crow reached out with both hands and settled them on his friend’s shoulders. “We’ll figure this out, Resolute. Youwillbe bound to Vorquellyn.”

Resolute shook his head. “You don’t understand, my friend. When called upon to answer from my heart, I did. This is my place of birth. I wish to serve. I would be Vorquellyn’s creature for eternity. I could perform this ritual a thousand times. My answers to those questions would be the same. The results would be the same, too.”

“No, that’s not right.” Crow’s nostrils flared. “After all you have done for Vorquellyn, you cannot be refused.”

“I would beg to differ, Kedyn’s Crow.” Magarric cut through the milling crowd of Vorquelves and their well-wishers. “There is one reason why Resolute was refused. It is not, as Trawyn is thinking, that he has become a creature for which Vorquellyn has no use.”

Trawyn blushed, then looked down. “That’s not what I think of you, Resolute.”

The Vorquelf turned and stroked the cheek beneath her eye patch. “Of this I am aware, Trawyn.”