‘Riddles? Such as?’ urged Terascouros.
‘Such as why I carry this rubbish about with me. See? This is a doll which Nathan made for me when I was a girl child once. I loved it, became a boy child, loved it still, which upset Nathan. Silly, isn’t it? Ephraim laughed at him for that. One born to Orena, he said, would not have had such a silly reaction, but Nathan came late to Orena.
‘Of everything that is here, only the book and the gold seem to have any relevance. The book to guide me, and the gold to buy my way. I took oath upon this book. In a world of uncertainty, I follow my oath, having nothing better to follow.’
Terascouros took up the green feathers, spread them before her face in a bright fan. ‘These mean much to me, Jaer. They mean “Mawen.” They are her sign. If these came to you, they came to you through Mawen.’
‘They were my mother’s things.’
‘Then your mother knew mine.’
‘Both gone,’ she said, sadly.
‘Gone, yes,’ Terascouros said firmly. ‘Your mother is indeed dead, or so the old men said. Mawen is presumed so, though we do not know when nor where. Still, that does not matter at the moment. Another thing does. Will you come to meet the Messenger which was promised us?’
‘Someone has arrived?’
Terascouros nodded, amused. ‘Well, see for yourself.’
On the same ledge to which the Magister had come only the day before – to several of them the memory was of a hazy past – they found the Messenger awaiting them, hopping up and down in impatience and intermittently voicing displeasure. Terascouros knelt, holding out her arm for the Messenger to hop upon it. He turned his head to one side, peering at them all out of shiny yellow eyes.
‘A bird?’ Medlo queried.
‘Why not a bird?’ the Raven said. ‘Magister would be interested to know, I’m sure, why not a bird.’
Terascouros introduced him. ‘This is Kelner of the Third Name of Thiel-lurissa-lantorra-dasim-lanluro. You may recognize his name as one sung yesterday.’
‘An ancestor,’ the bird elucidated, pointing with one claw. ‘Some centuries ago. Thiel-lurissa-and-all-that was made barren in the days when Tchent still stood whole. I am a descendant of the Third Name of Thiel-lurissa. Magister thought that a good joke. Let them have one of the names they sing. That’s what Magister thought. I ask again. Why not a bird?’
‘No reason why not,’ said Medlo. ‘As a messenger, we suppose you have a message for us.’
‘A message of great complexity.’ Kelner said with satisfaction, ‘which can be given at once or in bits and pieces.’
Jaer had been motionless and silent. Now she stepped forward and offered the bird her arm. Kelner cocked his head to get a better look at her, stepped to her arm and then to her shoulder. ‘So you’re the one the fuss is all about.’
‘Seemingly so,’ Jaer said warily.
‘Well, no accounting for the vagaries of history, as my uncle once said. He was messenger for the Magisters, too. Mostly for Magister Pen, though Magister Omburan walked in Aildery in his days, too. That has little to do with things now, eh? Or does it?’
‘Does it?’ she asked him softly.
‘Perhaps you will tell us what does have to do with things now,’ said Terascouros.
‘Given time. Given breakfast. Given opportunity. As I said, all at once, or in bits and pieces.’ He went from Jaer’s shoulder to Thewson’s in one downsweep of wings. ‘Now, this is a perch. Lofty, aren’t you? What’s that you have, old woman?’ And he was off again, to Terascouros’s side, pecking at the green feathers she still held. ‘Is Mawen here?’
‘No, Kelner. My mother went into the world long since. We think her rejoined to Earthsoul. These were brought by Jaer, whose own mother had them from Mawen long ago.’
‘Pretty things. She got them from that bird she had, Singer. Remember that one? From the south somewhere, with its green and yellow coat. Talked, it did. Made no sense at all.’
‘And was not the only one,’ muttered Medlo.
‘Ah. Aha,’ cawed Kelner. ‘Touchy, is it? Impatient, too? Well then, invite me to warmer places where there is a bit of seedcake. Perhaps a bit of corn? I’ll tell you what the Magister says to tell, and likely more, too.’
Old Aunt waited for them in a warm inner room with a bowl of seedcake and parched corn. Kelner took a sample in one claw, balancing on the other leg as he ate, settling to groom the crumbs from his feathery vest with clacking beak. When he talked, it was in a voice so studied that they forgot he was a bird.
‘Hear the words of the Magister:
‘ “There is now not one caravan, not one train of wagons, not one trader moving at liberty from the coast of Wasnost to the edge of the Concealment, from the Fales to Xulanuzh. Since the fall of Murgin, all ways have been closed. All villages are closed. All enclaves closed. The beating heart of Earthsoul is within a fist; that fist closes. Gahl holds the earth to crush all life from it.
‘ “Those of Gahl are oathbound away from Earthsoul, oathbound to something else. That part which has foresworn Earthsoul may not rejoin Earthsoul. It remains, Separated, ghosts like gloves of flesh to be filled by the hands of that”‘
Old Aunt drew in a breath as though in great pain.
Kelner held up one pontifical claw. ‘Hear the words of Magister. “A traitor singer has gone to Zales and treats there with red-robed Gahlians.”’
‘Sybil,’ breathed Terascouros. ‘Oh, if I had killed her when I could have….’
‘Magister says, “the Gahlians will
