Lords of the Sky

He hesitated an instant, as if some dire secret were revealed. I was reminded of that clandestine meeting I had witnessed, when Changed and Sky Lords came furtive together. I said, “In Kellambek I saw your people and Kho’rabi meet by night. Was this the reason?”

Urt nodded. “Likely. Those little boats the Sky Lords command defy Dhar magic to bring the stones south.”

I grunted as that mystery was resolved and gestured that he continue.

He said, “Perhaps do you commune with this, we three can find some way …” He shook his head helplessly. Then smiled without sign of humor. “You asked for proof of my friendship, Daviot? Well, is it known I give you this, I’m dead. This secret is close-guarded, and should the gifted learn what I do, my life is forfeit. Allanyn shaped this crystal herself, and she’d not hesitate to take my life.”

He spoke with absolute conviction, and as I watched his face, I felt my doubts dissolve. It seemed a weight lifted off me.

He was once again the old friend of my youth, the one who had first shown me that secret world of the Changed. The true friend who’d carried my messages to Rwyan and hers back to me. Without him, I’d not have known my love: I thought then that it was he had first set my feet on the road that brought me here. I suppose I might have hated him for that, but all I felt was love, our comradeship rekindled. I went to him, taking his hand as I’d done so long ago in Durbrecht.

His smile grew warm at that, and he answered my grip firm. There was no need of words, for which I was thankful-I had none at that moment. I felt only shame that I’d doubted him and heartfelt regret that this world we Truemen made should force enmity on us. Urt was not my enemy, nor I his: those roles were chosen for us by the past. I felt sad that our tomorrows looked to be soon ended.

He said, “I dare not delay. Allanyn already seeks to brand me traitor. ‘Trueman’s Friend,’ she names me.”

Still gripping his hand, I said, “Is that a crime, Urt?”

“To some; to Allanyn surely.” His grin brought me memories of his usual good humor. “Was it not ever the way-that Changed and Trueman live apart? Our situations reverse, eh, Daviot?”

“I think,” I said, “that had I a choice, I’d sooner face Ardyon than Allanyn.”

His grin faded at that, his expression become again grave. He said, “Aye. Ardyon seems as nothing beside her.”

As we spoke, Rwyan studied the crystal. She did not touch it; she seemed to me wary of the stone, as someone loath to handle a sword might regard the blade they know they must soon wield. Her face was troubled as she turned toward us. “Does this give us answers, Urt, shall you be with us in their deliverance?”

He met her sightless gaze unflinching and said, “I’ll not betray my people, Rwyan; but can you find a way to avoid this war and free my kind-then, aye. What aid is mine to give, you shall have.”

“Good.”

Rwyan returned to her observation of the crystal. I looked from her to Urt. There was much we had to say to one another; there was not the time to say it. He smiled grimly and said, “I cannot linger, lest I bring suspicion on you. Do you employ that thing, and I’ll come back ere dawn.”

I said, “Shall it be safe till then?”

“All well,” he answered. “Save the Lord Tezdal wakes. Does that happen, we’re lost.”

I nodded, and he clasped my hand again. “Daviot, for good or ill, I am your friend,” and then he was gone.

I turned to Rwyan. “What is it?” I asked her.

She said, “Am I right, then such magic as should delight you, Daviot. Am I right, this stone holds memories.”

I gaped, going to her side. The crystal lay on the table. It was the size of my clenched fist, a pale blue that pulsed faintly, like water struck by sunlight. Sparks of pink fluttered through it. It was a pretty thing. It seemed quite harmless, save for the strange sense of slumbering power emanating from it. Or did it slumber? I experienced a strange sensation as I came near. I thought the crystal … eager … as if it anticipated contact. I felt suddenly nervous. I felt … I can only describe it as a call, in the channels of my blood, in the roots of my brain. Perhaps it was only that I knew the stone for an occult thing; perhaps otherwise I should have thought it only some chunk of quartz, grist to the lapidaries and no more.

I asked, “Can you use it? I thought your talent denied you here.”

Rwyan licked her lips and said, “Be this so powerful as I suspect, I think it shall commune with us both. I believe it asks to be unlocked, and it shall overcome those gramaryes that limit me.”

I saw that she felt scant enthusiasm for that contact. “Do you fear a trick?”

Her smile was fleeting. She said, “Such thought had crossed my mind.”

I said, “Then leave it be.”

She said, “Do you not trust Urt, then?”

I shook my head. “I trust him. But he’s no sorcerer. Might Allanyn have let him bring this?”

She closed her eyes a moment, then forced a smile. “Let us find out,” she said. “Do you sit and take my hand and not let go.”

I took a chair beside her. Her hand was warm in mine, our fingers interlaced. I felt wary as she reached toward the stone. I saw it pulse brighter as her free hand drew near. The stone flickered more red than blue. It seemed to me hungry. Rwyan set her fingertips on the crystal, and it became all brightness, like spilling blood. Her hand was lost in the glow. I heard her murmur, the words too low I might discern them. I felt the magic engulf me, flowing out from the stone in a torrent of occult power, Rwyan the conduit.

I cannot properly describe that sensation: as it is with dreams, so ordinary words, mundane concepts, are insufficient to the task. As in dreams, I saw clearly, I was aware, and yet all was governed by an indefinable logic, defying rational analysis. Knowledge was instantaneous, a flood that washed over me and into me. There was no order, save what my mind must impose that I be able to digest it all. Understanding was imparted wordlessly, instinctive as the child’s first inhalation.

I must use inadequate words to describe what entered me.

I saw the Changed left behind in Ur-Dharbek by we Truemen, that they be living safeguard against the dragons. I felt their fear, their anger: I was Changed. I was aware of their survival, of time’s slow passing like impossibly long summer, nurturing resentment of their unfair fate as they hid from the predators. Too many died.

Images, then, of crystals, of discovery, of burgeoning awareness, the sense of wonder as the talent was discovered, the Changed found the gift of magic Never so many of them they might overcome the Border Cities I saw built, guardians of the Slammerkin, an occult wall to Dharbek’s north, but enough they could defend themselves, conceal themselves from the dragons and then drive off the sky hunters.

Time then, slowly passing, the world turning, the dragons no longer a threat save to children, become creatures of legend. A bountiful time ensuing, peaceful, the gifted coming to better understanding of the magic they used unthinking, the slowly burgeoning realization it stemmed from the crystals.

A hunt: to gather the occult stones and bring them where they should be hidden from Truemen, piled to build the magic of the Changed-to this valley of Trebizar. The first of the gifted formed the Raethe, and Trebizar became the heart of Ur-Dharbek, power spreading. … I saw the wastes mastered by Changed magic, made a pleasant land, a secret, contented land, save for … the memories these crystals held, always reminding those gifted with the talent of what had been, of Truemen’s treachery. And those memories nowhere stronger than in Trebizar, amongst the gifted of the Raethe.

I choked on bile as waves of bitter resentment, of raw hatred beat over me. I knew then that Allanyn had held this stone and was mad, consumed by crystalline dreams of revenge. I knew that all those Changed possessed of the strongest talent were crazed. I felt an awful guilt for what my kind had made of these folk.

I saw, too, that their magic took a different path to that of the Dhar sorcerers. These Changed lived closer to the earth than we, and their magic-once the dragons were gone-was not needed in defense of their land, but employed to render the wastes habitable. I saw that most were peaceable, and in that found some small hope.

And then despair as events unfolded in my mind, and I saw the first Kho’rabi skyboat, driven north by Sentinels and Border Cities, come drifting down to land, to make alliance with the wild Changed.