The Harp of Imach Thyssel: A Lyra Novel (32 page)

Welram’s ears twitched. “I doubt that the ones she served would have told her that,” he said dryly. “No matter how well they know it themselves.”

“The moon exploding, and people melting,” Emereck murmured, and shivered.

Ryl looked at him sharply. “You have seen visions of the Change?”

“I thought they were only dreams,” Emereck said. “No, not dreams. Nightmares.”

“Neither dreams nor nightmares, I think. I should have guessed that the harp might have such an effect on you.”

“Why?”

“You are the first true minstrel to hold the harp of Imach Thyssel since Iraman and his friends breached the Valley of Silence. You are suited to it by your profession, and thus more sensitive to its sendings.”

“Sendings?” Emereck said uneasily.

“The harp was made before the Change. Among its powers is that of holding and amplifying the emotions of the one who plays it. The Change was… an extremely emotional time. It does not surprise me that the shadow of that event engraved itself on the harp. As long as the Change spell lingers, those emotions will resonate in the harp, sometimes more strongly, sometimes less so. When they were strong, you had your dreams.”

“As long as the Change lingers?” Liana said. “I thought that was over centuries ago!”

“No,” Ryl said. “The Change was not so simple a spell. It still endures. Even now, the few Eleann who are left must be constantly on guard against it. If we turn too much of our power away from the spells that protect us from it, we… change. As you saw.” She paused. “Valerin was distracted. We… sent him away, to save him.”

“And the Harp of Imach Thyssel is the only way to bring him back safely,” Emereck finished, remembering the story Kensal had told them.

“Yes. And I have little time left. If I do not return with the harp today, or tomorrow, it will be too late.”

“How many Eleann are there?” Liana asked softly.

“There are only five of us left now, of all the Eleann.” Ryl looked at Emereck. “Only four, if you will not give me the harp.”

Emereck hesitated. Welram put a hand to his bow. Emereck’s lips tightened. “I seem to have little choice.”

Ryl shot a glance at the Wyrd. “No. I will not have it taken from you. Speak your will, and we shall abide by it.”

Emereck thought fleetingly of the Guild-Masters, men set the thought aside. This decision was his alone. He looked down at the harp. He had lost his fear of it, and he no longer desired its power, but he wanted it now more than ever. Not because of its magic, but because it was an unsurpassable instrument. He remembered the feel of the strings beneath his hands, warm and alive with music.

He looked at Ryl. “Take it.”

Ryl smiled and rose to her feet. “Thank you,” she said, and the joyous relief in her voice made Emereck forget to worry about what he was going to tell the Guild-Masters.

She came forward. Emereck picked up the harp and rose to meet her. He held out the harp, and Ryl took it from him. As the weight of the instrument passed to her hands, her form shimmered and grew. Emereck cried out, remembering his nightmares and all Ryl’s warnings about the Change, but almost before he could begin to worry the shape before him solidified. Emereck looked up in awe.

She was tall, nearly seven feet. Her skin was a transparent gold; her long hair was the color of mead. Her brown eyes slanted slightly upward above a straight nose and small mouth. She wore a loose robe of dark green trimmed in pale silver. Her hands on the Harp of Imach Thyssel were graceful and long-fingered; good hands for a musician, Emereck thought.

“Rylorien,” Welram said, and bowed.

Rylorien smiled at him. “I thank you for your help; without it I could not have held off the Change so long as I did.”

“Any of us would have done the same.”

“Still, I was grateful for it. And for your help, Lord Dindran, as well. I am glad of your friendship.”

“And I of yours,” the Duke replied.

“Liana.” Rylorien looked at her and smiled. “I wish you well with your minstrel.”

Liana curtsied without speaking, and Rylorien turned to Emereck. “Again, I thank you, minstrel. Do not worry about the Masters of your Guild; we have some little influence among them.”

Emereck nodded and bowed, hardly realizing what he was doing. He was too dazed by the rapid turn of events.

Rylorien’s smile broadened, but it was not unkind. “Fare you well, my friends.” She set her hands to the harpstrings and began to play. Emereck was immediately absorbed in the music, though he could never after remember it. A bright haze grew around her. Through it Emereck caught a glimpse of a slender bridge of silver-edged crystal arcing across a sea of mist, and a castle shining amid the gardens beyond. Then the haze grew too bright to look at. A moment later it was gone, and Rylorien and the Harp of Imach Thyssel with it.

Emereck stood blinking at the empty air. “I wonder whether the harp will actually do what they want it to,” he said at last.

Liana smiled and came over to his side. “I think she’ll find a way to let us know,” she said.

“I, for one, have no intention of standing here waiting for it,” said the Duke. “It seems we shall be spending the night here, and as the castle does not appear to be habitable as yet, I think it would be wise to set up some sort of camp.”

“I’ll join you,” Welram said, with a glance at Emereck and Liana. Wyrd and Duke set off into the gardens. As soon as they were out of sight, Emereck took Liana in his arms and kissed her.

“Much better,” Liana said breathlessly a few moments later. “I take it you’re willing to marry me after all?”

“Willing!” Emereck provided her with another demonstration of his enthusiasm.

“How soon can we be married?” Liana asked a long time later.

“As soon as we can get a minstrel here from Kith Alunel to perform the ceremony,” Emereck said, grinning.

Liana smiled back at him. “And where do we go then?”

“Back to Ciaron, I think. I owe the Master Minstrels some explanations, even if Ryl thinks she can make everything right with them.” Emereck’s smile faded, and he stared off into the setting sun. “So much has happened.”

Liana looked up at him, then snuggled closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes, it has. It will make a wonderful song.”

Emereck blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him, but Liana was absolutely right. He would make it a memorial for Flindaran and Kensal. How should he start it?
Long was the road to the castle gate, Wherein the harp did lie
…

He felt Liana smile against his chest, and realized he had spoken aloud. He tightened his hold on her. “It
will
be a wonderful song,” he said. “It certainly will.”

For more than twenty years, Patricia Collins Wrede (b. 1953) has expanded the boundaries of fantasy writing. Born in Chicago to a large, literary family, Wrede spent her childhood immersed in the Chronicles of Narnia, classic fairy tales, and L. Frank Baum’s Land of Oz—a foundation in imagined worlds that paved the way for her future career.

After receiving a degree in biology from Carleton College in 1974, Wrede completed an MBA at the University of Minnesota, and began working as a financial analyst in the late 1970s. In her spare time, Wrede wrote fantasy stories in the vein of the classic novels she read as a child. Her love of fantasy even fueled an interest in tabletop role-playing games: Lyra, the first gaming world that Wrede invented, was based on the unpublished work-in-progress that would become
Shadow
Magic. In 1980 she became a founding member of a group of Minneapolis-based, fantasy-fiction authors known as the Interstate Writers’ Workshop, or Scribblies, with whom she later worked on the critically acclaimed Liavek shared-world anthology series.

That same year, Wrede sold her first novel,
Shadow Magic
, which was published in 1982. It was the public debut of Lyra, a magical world shared by four races whose cultural differences see them constantly at odds. Wrede used Lyra as the setting for four more novels:
Daughter of Witches
(1984),
The Harp of Imach Thyssel
(1985),
Caught in Crystal
(1987), and
The Raven Ring
(1994). Wrede’s strong prose, sense of humor, and powerful female leads drew special attention to her early novels. Her quick success allowed her to begin writing fulltime.

Though the Lyra novels found popularity with audiences of all ages, Wrede aims her more recent work at young-adult readers, beginning with her four-book Enchanted Forest Chronicles, which follow the adventures of a young princess who becomes apprenticed to a dragon. Her other fantasy series include the Cecelia and Kate novels, cowritten with Caroline Stevermer and set in Regency England; the Mairelon books, which also take place in Regency England; and the Frontier Magic trilogy, based on Old West pioneers.

Wrede lives and works in Minnesota.