The Silver Mage (71 page)

Dallandra looked up to find her listeners nodding in understanding.

“Well and good, then,” Dalla said in Deverrian. “At last! Somewhat that’s perfectly clear.”

“True spoken,” Val said. “But you do realize, don’t you, that he just copied that out of the
Pseudo-Iamblichos Scroll
?”

“Now, now,” Grallezar broke in before Dallandra could make an angry reply. “He did copy a bit here, a bit there, but he did put together a new sense out of the bits. And here, did he not point to the source with the picture upon the cover of the book?”

“Of course!” Dallandra said. “That’s why it’s the opposite of the picture on Laz’s copy of the
Scroll
.”

“That’s very true,” Val said. “I wonder if he saw Laz’s book somewhere, but it doesn’t matter anymore. We have the information we need.”

Branna looked so stricken that Dallandra could practically hear her thinking, “We do?” Grallezar gave her apprentice an indulgent smile.

“I shall tell you the answers to these riddles before the night does fall,” Grallezar said. “But for now, I think me that Dalla’s part of this work lies with Avain. Think you her mother will agree to what we have in mind?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to go ask Wynni first.”

“What about Avain?” Val said. “We should be asking her.”

Dallandra laughed, one startled bark. “True spoken! But I think me Arzosah can convince her.” She swung her leg free of the bench and stood up. “Val, if you’d call Arzosah over? I’ll just be talking with Wynni in the kitchen.”

A
lthough she never would have claimed that she understood the dweomer in Evandar’s book, Branna did have some vague idea about the meaning of its instructions. She merely had no idea of how the elder dweomermasters were going to carry them out. One thing had come clear to her, however, the reason that Laz would remain in raven form for the rest of his life. His “shadow,” his human etheric double, had indeed died. Trying to unwind the raven form would kill him.

When Dallandra went to the kitchen, Branna followed the others down to the pier and the lakeshore. They could see both dragons, Rori lounging in the grass, with the two small figures of Angmar and Mara beside him, and Arzosah, lying a good distance away with her back firmly toward the group. When Valandario cupped her hands around her mouth and called out the dragon’s name, Arzosah roared in answer and took to the air. With a few beats of her enormous wings and a glide she crossed the lake and landed nearby on the sandy fringe of beach.

Out in deep water, a beast rose to the surface and lifted its head to stare at the dragon. Branna could see a fine row of needle teeth as it opened its mouth, but it came no closer.

“It’s trying to smell us,” Arzosah remarked. “They have another nose, as it were, deep in their throats.”

“These beasts never lived in this lake before,” Valandario said. “So they must have arrived with Haen Marn. Do you know what they are?”

“Water beasts is what I’ve always called them. A few live up in the Northlands. They’re really quite stupid, just animals if huge ones.” Arzosah rustled her wings in a shrug. “Their race, though, is even older than wyrmkind. I’m surprised that any are left.”

A second beast rose out of the water to stare. Arzosah swung her head toward them and roared so loudly that the sound echoed back and forth across the surrounding hills. Both beasts dove with a splash and disappeared into the rippling water with a flick of their long skinny tails.

“Ai!” Branna said. “My poor ears!”

“My apologies, but sometimes a lady just has to relieve her feelings.” Arzosah turned toward Valandario. “Now, why did you fetch me?”

“There’s a person here we very much want you to see.” Val paused and glanced back at the manse. “We need your opinion about—Ah, here she is, in fact, with Wynni and Dalla.”

Avain saw the dragon, broke into a grin, and came skipping down the path ahead of her two companions. Arzosah’s lower jaw sagged open. She shut it with a snap of fangs, then shook her head.

“The poor soul!” the dragon muttered. “Trapped in that nasty pink skin.” She raised her voice. “Little hatchling, come here!”

Avain ran the rest of the way. She threw her arms around Arzosah’s neck as far as they could reach while the dragon murmured to her in a soothing flow of incomprehensible words—Dragonish words, Branna assumed. When Avain let Arzosah go and stepped back, the dragon licked her face with just the very tip of a surprisingly gentle tongue. Avain laughed and clapped her hands together.

“You agree, then?” Val said. “That she’s a dragon in her soul?”

“Of course she is,” Arzosah said. “Will her mother let her fly free, or will she insist on snatching her away like she’s snatched Rori?”

“Mam will do what be best for Avain,” Berwynna said. “And truly, that would be letting her go. But, Stepmother, there be a need on you to know that my sister does have her troubles. Never has she had keen wits.”

Arzosah snorted and rolled her eyes. “She’s very young, is all—for a dragon. Fear not, once we restore her to her true self, her mind will begin to blossom.”

“Well and good, then,” Grallezar put in. “You do know more of such things than we do.”

“Of course I do.” Arzosah snorted again. “I suppose Evandar had somewhat to do with this poor child’s misery.”

“He did not,” Dallandra snapped. “And you’re a fine one to talk! You’re the one who insisted Rhodry become a dragon in the first place, aren’t you?”

Arzosah glowered but held her enormous tongue.

Distantly, the boat’s gong began to ring. Berwynna shaded her eyes with one hand and looked across the lake.

“Here they do come,” Wynni said, “Mam and Mara, that be. Let me speak to my mother straightaway about Avain.”

“Avain wants to fly.” The subject of this discussion spoke up at last. “But Avain loves Mam and Wynni and Mara.”

“We all shall talk about this.” Wynni caught her sister’s huge hand in both of hers. “See you Mam? She be on the boat, and the boat, it does come toward the pier.”

“We’ll let you all make this decision in private,” Dallandra said. “We need to go plan things out.”

“Will you be joining us for the evening meal?” Wynni said.

“We won’t. We all have to fast, and truly, Avain should as well, if you can explain it to her.”

“That be no hard task. She does eat oddly little, and often but once a day.”

“Good. We’ll wait at the bench under the willow. If you could let us know what your mother—”

“Of course! I know not how long I’ll be.”

Dallandra glanced at the sky. “We have a long while till sunset. If your mother will agree to releasing Avain, we’ll go across the lake to speak to Rori. Otherwise—well, otherwise I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“Naught, I should think,” Grallezar said. “Lest we slay the man we do try to save.”

Berwynna gave her a sharp look, began to speak, then turned to Avain. “See you the boat?” she said. “Go you now to the pier and wait for them.”

Avain trotted off, humming a little tune under her breath. Berwynna set her hands on her hips and considered Grallezar for a moment.

“Be you telling me,” Wynni said at last, “that my sister be the price of my father’s return?”

“Not a price that we demand,” Grallezar said, “but no great dweomer comes without great price.”

“Never did I think that it were you who did demand it.” Wynni caught her lower lip between her teeth and thought for a long moment. “I’ll be telling Mam that. It be a hard choice.”

“Oh, come now,” Arzosah said. “She can always fly your way and visit.”

“As a dragon, not as Avain, and never will she be able to fly across the lake again to join us in the manse.” Wynni turned away. “The boat, it be docking.” She strode off, heading for the pier.

“Come along,” Dallandra said to her flock of dweomerfolk. “We can’t influence their decision either way. Arzosah, that means you, too!”

Grumbling under her breath, the dragon waddled after them as they walked away.

W
hile Berwynna helped her mother and Mara climb onto the pier, Avain kept up a constant flow of chatter in Dwarvish about the black dragon. Berwynna had never seen her sister so happy, her smile so broad, her eyes so bright with life. Her words, too, made better sense than Wynni had ever heard her make. When, however, they turned to leave the pier, Avain realized that Arzosah had gone, and she burst into tears.

“Here, here!” Wynni spoke in Dwarvish as well. “She’s just gone round to the willow tree. She’s still on the island, Avain.”

The tears stopped, and the bright smile returned.

“Well, now,” Angmar said. “I see that Avain has a new friend.”

“More than a friend, Mam,” Berwynna said. “Come inside, and let’s sit down, and I’ll tell you what’s happened. I’m not sure how much she understands.”

Although Avain disliked being inside the manse, for this occasion she did come in with them. She refused, however, to sit down at the table. Instead she wandered around the great hall, looking at the carvings on the walls and glancing out the windows, while the rest of the family discussed a wyrd she could barely understand.

Angmar spoke not at all when Wynni told her of the price of Rori’s return. Mara had a few questions, but it seemed obvious to Wynni that the sort of dweomer Dallandra and Grallezar wanted to work lay well beyond her sister’s knowledge. Finally, Angmar shook her head and sighed.

“I don’t understand everything,” Angmar said. “But I’ve always understood the price that Haen Marn demands for its dweomers. It exacted the fee of my whole life when it brought me here. It demanded that Avain’s father marry a half-breed woman he’d never seen. It took me away from my Rori when he was a man, and it took him away from me by turning him into the silver wyrm. Why would I be surprised that it would demand such a great price for giving him back?”

Mara and Berwynna exchanged a glance. Berwynna noticed with some surprise that her sister’s eyes were full of tears.
I never truly knew her before,
she thought.
Her heart’s not stone after all!

“Avain,” Angmar said, “darling, come here. Tell Mam this one thing. Do you want to fly?”

“Yes.” Avain smiled at her. “Avain truly wants to fly.”

“Do you want to fly away with your new friend, the black dragon?”

“Yes, but Avain will come back. Avain loves Mam and Mara and Wynni.”

“Very well, then. Learning to fly is dangerous. You could fall from the sky and die.”

Avain considered this for a long moment. Berwynna wondered if she understood what death meant.

“If you die,” Wynni said, “it will be like sleep, but you’ll never wake up. You’ll be gone. It will be dark, but you won’t see the dark. You’ll see naught.”

Avain frowned down at the floor while she thought this through. Her lips moved as she repeated to herself the things Berwynna had said.

“Avain is frightened,” Avain said at last. “But Avain will try to fly. Avain truly wants to fly, Mam.”

“Very well, then. Tonight, the black dragon will help you grow wings.”

Avain threw both arms in the air and began to dance, a clumsy jigging of her body, an awkward thrust of her massive hips to one side and then the other.
She doesn’t belong on the ground,
Berwynna thought.

“I’ll go tell the others.” Berwynna stood up from the table. “If you’re sure, Mam?”

“Oh, yes.” Angmar was fighting back tears. “But I’ll have you know that it’s for her sake, not my own, even though I long to have Rori back above anything in the world.”

“I never thought otherwise, Mam,” Berwynna said.

“No more did I,” Mara said. “I think me this is the moment when the dweomer gives back some of that fee you paid it, Mam. I truly do.”