'How could you know that?' Bradan asked, just as the black-and-white miasma formed beside Melcorka. 'What is that?'
'You already know,' Matsyendranath said.
'Last time we were here, you took Melcorka's sword,' Bradan was not prepared to play word games with Matsyendranath.
'We've no time to look for swords.' Chaturi interrupted the conversation. 'We have to get all nine Siddhars back to Sathuragiri, before the rift opens wider and more rakshasas pour into our world.'
Bradan felt his stubborn streak coming to the fore. Ignoring Chaturi, he addressed Matsyendranath directly. 'When we were here last, you said that Melcorka was not fit to use her sword. You were right. She is not fit because a kanaima cursed her. I will help you get back to your famous mystical hill, but not until you help my Melcorka get her sword back.' He felt the atmosphere alter around him and stepped closer to Melcorka, ready to defend her if need be. He heard the slither of steel as Kosala unsheathed his blade.
'Melcorka is safe.' Matsyendranath had read Bradan's fears. 'There is no violence on this island. Put your sword away, Kosala. It is not needed here.'
Bradan faced the Singhalese warrior, knowing he was outmatched if it came to a fight. Kosala slipped his sword back into his scabbard, although his gaze never strayed from Bradan's face.
Matsyendranath lifted his hand, and the dark pool was back. 'How much do you want your sword back, Melcorka? How much have you learned, Bradan?'
'Melcorka's not well,' Bradan said. 'She's not going down there.' Was this a test? If so, he would not back away. Feeling no embarrassment at all, Bradan stripped off his clothes, took three deep breaths and prepared to dive into the water.
'No, Bradan!' Banduka smiled as he stepped forward. 'I'm a pearl diver. I am better in the water than you, and you saved me from the dungeon.' He dived in without another word, leaving hardly a ripple on the surface.
Bradan watched air bubbles rise to the surface of the pool.
'We don't have time to search for a sword,' Chaturi said. 'I can feel the rakshasas massing.'
'Go then,' Bradan told her. 'Go without us. Leave Melcorka and me here.'
'No.' Machaendranathar placed a hand on Chaturi's arm. 'Melcorka needs her sword.'
'There are other swords in the world,' Chaturi said. 'You, Kosala, give your sword to Melcorka, although I don't know what she will do with it in her state.'
'Melcorka needs her own sword. It is special.' Bradan held Kosala's arm and nodded to the pool. 'I hope that young lad is all right. He's been down there for a long time.'
'Get everybody else back to the boat,' Chaturi said. 'Kosala, you escort the Siddhars in case the Thiruzha come here. 'Bradan, you can do what you like. We have what we came for. I'm not wasting any more time.'
At that second, Banduka surfaced in an eruption of water. He leaned against the edge of the pool, gasping for breath as water streamed from his hair onto the sand. 'Nothing,' he said. 'I could not reach the bottom. I went down as far as I could.' Banduka took a great, heaving gasp of air. 'I've never been so deep before. There were no fish even. There was nothing, only water, a void of dark water.'
Bradan felt nausea rising within him. Melcorka without Defender was only another woman. Oh, she would be as brave and strong and stubborn as ever, but… There were no buts. Bradan looked down at Melcorka as she sat propped up against one of the palm trees, smiling. He suddenly did not care if she was Melcorka the Swordswoman, or plain Melcorka from the islands. He did not care if the Singhalese remained or left. I want Melcorka back, not her blasted sword.
'You tried, Banduka. Thank you. We will not forget how you tried. Now, you had better get back to the boat.'
'Are you not coming, Bradan?'
'We are staying.' Melcorka answered for them both. 'We are staying until I get my sword back.'
Melcorka spoke with such simple conviction that Bradan could not resist smiling. He sat at her side.
'Anyway,' Melcorka said, 'the rest haven't reached the boat yet. The man told me to think my sword back.'
'Which man?' Bradan asked. He rose to return to the pool, determined to dive in and try again, for Melcorka's sake.
'The man inside my head,' Melcorka explained, with infinite patience.
Bradan saw the black-and-white mass shimmer in front of him. 'What are you?'
There was no reply. The pool was shrinking even as Bradan watched it. The black-and-white mist had settled beside them, sitting an arm-span above the sand. Bradan looked into the miasma. It seemed to extend forever, as if he could step inside and lose himself in the mist, yet at the same time, he could see through to the other side. The dark pool continued to diminish, closing over Defender.
The black-and-white mist remained.
'What are you?' Bradan asked again. 'Why are you here?'
There was no reply.
Bradan saw somebody emerge from the pool – or was it something? The shape was indefinable, vague, ethereal. He shook his head as the thing gradually took shape. Defender sat on a bed of sand, as clean and pristine as if she had never been under hundreds of feet of water. The leather-and-brass scabbard was gleaming as if Melcorka had oiled it only ten minutes before.
Bradan looked at Defender for a moment as the memories flooded back. The sword was long and ancient, with the sparkle of jewels in the blade, the upturning quillons of the Highlands and the long, sharkskin-bound grip. Defender was as familiar as his own face. He remembered Melcorka wielding that sword against the Norse and against the terrifying Shining One. She had carried it throughout the New World and against the Kalingo. Now Melcorka smiled as if she had recovered a lost toy.
'There's my sword.' Melcorka lifted
