Storm Rising

That left seven possibilities.

With each of the objects was a metal plaque, identifying how to destroy it, but nothing else about its nature, except the single line, 'You cannot use this weapon without killing yourself. Neither could I. Be wise, and be rid of it.' Each plaque was signed with Urtho's name and sigil.

They gathered rubbings of all these plaques, together with a crude drawing of each object and the number of the room it was in—counting the empty room as number one and going sunwise—and sat down together in the floating barge to discuss what they had.

'We have three days to decide which device and how to work it, one day to set up and practice, and that's all,' Firesong warned. 'If we don't succeed by then, working with the assumption that the waves going out can be made to match the speed of the ones coming in, the breakwater will go down. Irrevocably. Without that to break up the force, the next mage-storm through here might well trigger one or more of these things.'

'Sssurely not—' Treyvan said, but he did not sound certain.

'Are you willing to stand around here and wait to see? I'm not, Firesong said bluntly. 'Frankly, I didn't think we'd find more than one or two of Urtho's weapons existing; I never dreamed there'd be this many that were still intact. It seems to me that if we don't succeed here, we'd better evacuate the Plains and k'Leshya.'

'I wish I didn't feel the same way,' the shaman said with reluctance. 'I had not expected to find so many lethal objects here either. If one or even two were activated, the Tower and the physical containments still here would probably keep the damage to a small area—but if three or more went—' He shuddered, his face white.

'Right,' Firesong nodded. 'And we are making a lot of assumptions about whether they'd 'go off,' for that matter. Some of them might be the magical equivalent of a slow acid, some might simply shred things randomly for a long period of time.'

'Then let's get on with this and make a decision!' An'desha exclaimed, his nervousness evident in the high pitch of his voice.

But a few hours later, it was clear that they had another problem.

Between the litany and the instructions for disposal, it was possible to deduce what each of the remaining seven objects did, and they were able to eliminate three more of the seven. The trouble was, when they had ranked the remaining four in order of suitability, they came to another, unexpected snag.

The language that the k'Leshya thought was the purest Kaled'a'in, that they had cherished—they fondly assumed—as unchanged for centuries, was anything but pure and unchanged.

'Look, we have three words here that all mean 'explosive'!' Firesong burst out. 'Your version of Kaled'a'in has two of them, Treyvan, ko'chekarna and chekarna and from the destruction instructions I think we've got a third, ri'chekarna! So which is right? We have to know or we're likely to get our number one choice going off right in our faces!'

'I—do not know,' Treyvan said helplessly. 'The language hasss ssshifted.…'

'Languages do, over time,' Lo'isha said ironically. 'Your mistake was to assume that since the Kaled'a'in were among peoples that avoided change, your language and ways were immutable. We need a scholar in ancient Kaled'a'in—'

'Or someone with ForeSight, who could look at each of these things and determine which one we can use safely!' Karal said suddenly, as he looked directly at Florian and Altra.

The two looked at each other, as if they were consulting silently. The little group stared at both of them in an expectant hush. It seemed to take forever before Florian turned back to them, but it was Altra who 'spoke,' although his eyes were directed off past Karal's shoulder, as if he was concentrating on something.

:I cannot bring someone here in time. Florian cannot reach that far with his mind.: Karal's heart fell.

'I can't build a Gate that will reach that far,' Firesong reminded them, 'And neither can An'desha.'

'Then we arrre rrright back to the beginning.' Treyvan's ear-tufts flattened against his head. 'Back to language, a ssset of verrrssse that hasss ssshifted meaningsss overrr the yearsss, and guesssesss which can get usss all killed.'

'No—' An'desha corrected, his eyes half-closed in thought. 'We do have more than that. Mage-Sight should tell us something about the power sources, and that should tell us if it's something we ought to avoid.'

'It might tell usss otherrr thingsss asss well,' Treyvan put in, his ear-tufts rising again.

'And let usss make the bessst transsslationsss we can,' Hydona added. 'If we have the choicssse between a