“I originally thought that the events of the past were somehow intruding on the present, but after what happened this time, I think it’s the reverse. I think that somehow-between my use of the Lifeblood and the atrocity of what Cortaemall’s men did to Gaurraenan’s House-somehow I was being drawn back to those events, forced back there, rather than me using the power of the Well to take myself back as I did at the Escarpment. It was like a massive current, pulling me back to that time. And I know I was there, because the people of that time-Gaurraenan and his wife-they both saw me. They did not know who I was, but they saw me, reacted to me. For brief moments, I was there. Or part of me was, enough that the effort to keep myself here, in the present, and the current trying to draw me back were beginning to tear me apart. If you hadn’t dragged me from the hall, I don’t think I would have survived. I would have ended up back in the time of Gaurraenan and Cortaemall, more than likely would have been killed during the massacre, since they would have had no idea who or what I was.”
Aeren shook his head. “You cannot die, remember? You may have been drawn back to that time, but you would not have died.”
Colin thought of the knife he’d created and wondered. “If I had been drawn back there and survived, I’m not certain I could have come back on my own. I may have been trapped there, forced to live through the past five hundred years or more.” He shuddered and halted, his hands held out to the warmth of the fire. He suddenly felt cold.
“You may have to face that yet,” Aeren said quietly. When Colin glanced up with a frown, he added, “We’ll have to return through the hall again eventually, to get back to the southern side.”
Colin grimaced. “I was trying not to think about that. I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
Aeren nodded as if he’d expected that response, then glanced down to the fire himself, still frowning.
Colin abruptly straightened. “There’s something else. Something more than what happened to me within the mountain that’s bothering you.”
Aeren hesitated, then reached for two of their heavy jackets, handing one to Colin before shrugging into his own. He motioned Colin toward the entrance to the room, then followed him.
Colin felt the bite of the cold even through his jacket as he ascended the short stair he found beyond, the warmth of the fire vanishing as he rounded a corner. He emerged onto a roof, the building the group had chosen for shelter near the edge of the city. The mountains rose to the south, the massive stone steps that led to the ledge and the entrance to Gaurraenan’s halls half obscured by blowing snow, even though the sky overhead was a clear, vivid blue. Colin spun where he stood, Aeren moving away from him as he took in the undulating rooftops of Taeraenfall stretching out on all sides, their flat tops dusted with snow and thick with ice. Evidence of the ravages of time were everywhere, nearly two-thirds of the roofs collapsed, a few of the buildings merely piles of rubble covered with a deep layer of snow. The streets between were heavily drifted. But there were still details in the stonework that stood out-peaked arches stretching over some intersections, finely etched lintels and windowsills, a richly decorated balcony.
Farther to the north, rising above the city at the top of a hill, lay the mansion that Gaurraenan had built using the stone quarried from the mountain as he dug out his tunnel. Some of the exterior walls-built low for aesthetic reasons, not for defense-had crumbled, but the manse itself appeared mostly intact from this distance. Wind blew sheets of loose snow across the vista, but Colin could see the hills as they descended to the plain he knew lay beyond. A wasteland of snow and ice now. If the day had been calmer, he knew he would have been able to see the nearest of the glacial ice packs that were grinding steadily southward. Eventually, they would reach Taeraenfall, and then the city-and nearly all evidence of the Alvritshai’s northern empire-would be destroyed.
He stepped up to Aeren’s side at the edge of the rooftop, blinking at the glare of the sun on the mostly white landscape, his exposed skin already raw from the gusts and chill.
“All of the Alvritshai know of their origins here in the north,” Aeren said, raising his voice to be heard. “We tell our children stories of our time here, although most of them now come across as legends, rather than histories. But I was an acolyte in the Order. I’ve read many of the Scripts, know many details that those outside of the Order do not. I know enough of the history of the Alvritshai to know that
At first, Colin saw nothing, but the wind came from that direction and made it difficult to see, cutting inside the hood of his jacket. He brought one hand up to shield his face and eyes-
And saw what Aeren must be talking about. He felt his entire body stiffen, his breath caught in his throat. He struggled against the paralysis for a moment, then exhaled harshly, his lungs burning with cold as he sucked in another lungful of air and stepped close to the edge of the roof.
Far to the northwest, lights danced across the frigid wastes. Like the sheets of snow being picked up and blown across the city, the blue-and-green light wavered and drifted across the landscape, rippling and coruscating into deep purples and lighter greens nearly verging on yellow. And like the flames of the fire in the room below, or the mists on the southern side of the mountain, the colors rose and curled, licking toward the sky before fading into nothing.
Colin watched for a long moment, Aeren standing silently behind him. Then he said, “They’re like the aurora borealis, the lights you can sometimes see in the night sky here in the north.”
“Aielan’s Nightdance, yes.” Aeren took a step forward. “Except this is not part of the night sky. This is on the ground.”
“Have you been watching it the last few days? What have you seen?”
Aeren shrugged. “Nothing extraordinary. It moves across the landscape, both day and night. Sometimes it fades into nothing and for hours the horizon is clear. Other times it has appeared in multiple locations. It’s only come to within an hour’s walk of the edge of the city, but none of us have risked investigating it in person.”
“No.” Colin shook his head. Even watching the mysterious lights from this distance, he could feel the back of his neck and shoulders prickling. The lights reminded him of the coruscating colors he could see in the occumaen when he slowed time, and remembered vividly how deadly that rippling phenomenon had been to those who were caught in it. Moiran had barely escaped, with Colin’s help. Most of her entourage had not been so lucky.
He shuddered and turned toward Aeren. “Without a closer look, I can’t be certain… but I think it has to do with the Wells again. It’s like the occumaen and the storms on the dwarren plains. We should keep our distance.”
“Does it mean that whatever is happening to the sarenavriell has gotten worse?”
“I don’t know. These lights could have been here before, and they could have been worse. There’s no way to tell. But I don’t like it. We need to find the Well as soon as possible. Something is happening, and if it isn’t the Wells.…” He let the thought trail off. If it wasn’t the Wells causing the disturbances, then he didn’t know what it could be.
“We can leave as soon as the others return, if you’ve recovered enough to travel,” Aeren said.
Colin shivered as a stronger gust of wind cut through his jacket and touched his skin. “I can manage. Right now, let’s get off of this roof and out of the cold.”
They left the city behind without stopping, skirting the manse and entering the low hills beyond, Vaeren taking the lead and setting a harsh pace. A day later, they emerged from the forest onto a flat that had once been grassland but was now tundra, the grasses sparse, the frozen earth reduced to bare stone in places, the harsh wind keeping it nearly free of snowfall.
Colin raised his hands to shield his eyes from the worst of the wind as the rest of the party pulled out additional clothing to wrap around exposed skin. To the west, the strange sheets of pulsating light that Aeren had shown him from the rooftop in Taeraenfall danced across the flatland, angling north, but still too close for comfort. He slowed time for a moment, to see what the lights looked like, but they didn’t appear any different. Perhaps larger, their influence spread out farther, but nothing else significant. Even at this distance he could feel the weight of the power behind them, could catch a taste of the Well, as well as a scent of the dwarren’s Confluence.
He’d turned his attention toward the north, where he could see the ominous ice wall of the glaciers-a lighter, ephemeral blue than the washed-out color of the sky near the horizon-when he felt someone grip his arm.
He thought it would be Aeren, was surprised to find Siobhaen staring at him, concern etching her face.
“You… faded,” she said. “Flickered.”
He smiled in reassurance. “I’m fine. I was checking on the lights, trying to see what they were like with time slowed. It wasn’t what happened back in Gaurraenan’s halls.”
Siobhaen’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded, stepping away. Colin caught Aeren watching from a distance
