The Tenth Power Read online

  No one was prepared for the chantment that roared out of the forest, and struck like a leaping roancat. The front sled, towing Darrow, Trout and Keela, was wrenched violently sideways and slammed into the second.

  The first sled tipped up, spilling its load of packs and bundles, while Darrow managed to fling himself clear. But Trout and Keela collided with the toppled sled and sent it crashing down so hard that it cracked the ice. Calwyn’s breath exploded from her lungs as she was flung into the capsized sled. A jagged chasm split the ice apart; black water yawned beneath.

  Tonno yelled, ‘It’s Samis! Look out!’

  Just in time, Darrow’s strong hand seized Calwyn’s and yanked her clear. The unmistakable throat-song of ironcraft was droning, not from Darrow, but from on the bank; Calwyn glimpsed a dark figure among the trees.

  But the chantment was drowned out by the creaks and groans of the ice, and Keela’s shrieks of panic. She was a child of the deserts, and the water terrified her. Next instant the ice gave way, and the first sled plunged into the black water. Trout’s fingers scraped across the ice as he was dragged in after it, his skates tangled in the tow-rope. Tonno lunged for him.

  ‘No!’ cried Calwyn, and threw herself atTonno’s legs, for if he added his weight to the weakened ice, they would all go under. She called silently to Halasaa, who lay sprawled and winded beside the second sled. The pole!

  Darrow was singing. Gradually, the nose of the submerged sled lifted from the river, but Trout still floundered in the freezing water. As Calwyn helped Halasaa to free the long, sturdy pole they kept strapped to the sled for just this purpose, she scanned the bank for Samis, but the shadowy figure had vanished.

  Flat on their stomachs to spread their weight, Calwyn and Halasaa thrust the pole across the ice to Trout.

  Reach out, my brother! called Halasaa. Blindly, his lenses lost, Trout clutched at the pole with numbed hands, and Calwyn and Halasaa hauled him from the water. Little by little, Darrow eased the dripping sled onto thicker ice, until it was safe.Tonno gripped his knife between his teeth and crawled to the sled so he could cut through the rope that tangled Trout. Only then did he shout, ‘Where’s Keela?’

  But Keela had gone.

  Clutching Trout, sodden and shivering, Calwyn fought for breath as she stared up and down the bank. There!

  Halasaa nodded; he too had caught the scarlet flash of Keela’s cloak between the black brush-strokes of the tree trunks. She has gone with him.

  ‘Let her go!’ barked Tonno. ‘Good riddance to her!’

  ‘Which way?’ demanded Darrow.

  ‘I didn’t see!’

  It is too late. Only Halasaa was calm. They are gone.

  ‘Too late? Aye, it’s too late! We should have wrung her pretty neck when we had the chance!’

  ‘Peace,Tonno, peace!We must get everyone dry and warm.’ Calwyn glanced around wildly. ‘The Clarion! Trout, where’s the Clarion?’

  Trout patted his clothes helplessly, squinting all around. ‘I – I don’t know.’

  ‘Did that rogue take it, as well as half-drowning us all?’ roared Tonno.

  Trout’s shoulders slumped. ‘I must have dropped it into the river.’

  Calwyn’s hand flew to her own jacket.The dense nugget of the Wheel was still tucked safely into her pocket; the silken wrapping was not even damp.

  ‘If the Clarion’s at the bottom of the river, I’ll find it,’ said Darrow grimly. ‘Even if I have to pick out every last stone on the riverbed.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ cried Calwyn.

  Darrow glared at her. ‘I haven’t lost my chantment yet.’

  ‘I wasn’t – ’ Calwyn stopped herself. ‘I mean, we haven’t time to wait. Tonno and Trout are wet through.’

  ‘You’re not exactly dry yourself.’ Darrow frowned at her. ‘And what’s this?’ He snatched up her hand.

  Blood was dripping bright red on the snow; she had sliced her hand open on one of the sled runners. She hadn’t even been aware of the pain, but now the sight of the blood pouring out made her feel sick.

  ‘Must’ve been waiting for us, the dog,’ muttered Tonno darkly.

  ‘We saw his fire last night.’Weakly Calwyn let herself lean back against Darrow, but he seized her shoulders angrily.

  ‘You knew he was so close and didn’t tell me? Didn’t you think? How could we have caught up to him, unless he had waited for us? You know he does nothing, nothing, without a plan!’With a rough shake, Darrow pushed Calwyn away from him.

  Halasaa was there; he caught Calwyn’s hurt hand between his, and she felt the warmth of his touch as he began the dance of healing, his fingers tapping and kneading her flesh. This will stop the bleeding. I will complete the healing later. Can you wait, my sister?

  Calwyn nodded. Her hand was stiff and swollen, and the red weal across the palm throbbed, but the cut was closed.The real pain had come from Darrow’s fury.

  Halasaa laid his warm hands on her shoulders. There is shelter nearby. Come. Swiftly, he extracted sleeping-furs from the dry sled and wrapped up Trout, then beckoned him to climb aboard. The rest of us will pull; it will warm us. This way. Already he had picked up a rope and begun to pull the laden sled up onto the riverbank. Tonno and Calwyn sprang to help him, and Calwyn winced as the rope bit into her injured hand.

  Darrow called after them, ‘I’ll stay and search for the Clarion.’

  We will leave a trail for you, my brother. We will not be far. Halasaa trudged down the thickly wooded slope. At times there was scarcely room for the sled to pass between the trees. Twigs snapped and branches shook down snow on top of them.

  ‘You all right, lad?’ panted Tonno.

  ‘Y-yes.’Trout’s teeth were chattering. ‘B-but I wish I’d asked D-Darrow to look for my l-lenses.’

  I will ask him, my brother.

  Calwyn’s hand throbbed painfully now, though she’d wrapped it in a fold of her cloak, and at every stumbling step her bones jarred, as though they had turned to brittle ice.

  Halasaa led them down into a hollow, and there, hidden from above, were the dark mouths of several caves.The nearest was partly screened by a curtain of long-dead ivy; Halasaa held it aside as proudly as if he’d led them to a palace. Come. There is room inside for us all.

  Calwyn ducked beneath the frozen lattice of ivy and gingerly straightened up. But though the entrance was low, the roof rose steeply inside and there was plenty of room to stand. The cave reached so far back into the hillside that at first she couldn’t see the rear wall, but as her eyes adjusted to the shadows, she saw sleeping-ledges, lined with dried grasses, cut into the rock. There were other, smaller shelves that held earthenware pots and platters, folded animal skins and woven cloths like those Halasaa had once worn. There was a hearth-place, ringed with large stones, close to the opening, and firewood was stacked neatly along one side of the cave. Calwyn picked up something from the floor. It was a bone brooch, carved with flowers.

  Trout and Tonno stumbled in. Halasaa moved quickly around the cave with his customary grace. Help me to lay a fire, Calwyn.We must have warmth.

  Awkwardly, Calwyn piled wood inside the blackened circle of the hearth-ring. ‘But without the Clarion, how will we light it?’

  Even in the dim light, she saw his teeth flash in a grin. You think the Tree People have lived so long without flint and tinder?Without hesitation, he crossed to one of the smaller shelves and found the fire-tools. He crouched beside the hearth, and soon a tiny flame licked at the kindling.

  Is this your place, Halasaa? Unconsciously she slipped into mind-speech.

  Mine? No. I have come here, with my father. But it is not mine, not as you and Mica speak of your cottage on Ravamey, or Tonno of his boat. The caves belong to all the Tree People.

  Halasaa fetched wooden frames from another cave to hang their clothes, and more cloaks of stitched burrower-hide. These are old, worn cloaks, not very warm, he explained. But they will serve. He sat down cross-legged beside Calwyn and took her h
urt hand in his to finish the work of healing.

  Tonno began to make soup from dried meat, beans, and the few withered vegetables that remained from their stores. Trout squatted near him, wrapped in burrower skins; occasionally he put his hand to the bridge of his nose, forgetting that his lenses were gone.

  Drowsily, Calwyn leaned back and stared at the shadowy paintings on the cave walls. ‘Who are these people, Halasaa? I’ve never seen paintings like these before.’

  I do not know. They are just wall-pictures, like the carvings on the walls of the Palace of Cobwebs.

  ‘I prefer these,’ said Calwyn. ‘They look alive.’

  In the wavering firelight, the figures seemed to stamp and whirl across the roof of the cave. Compared with the elaborate decorations of the Palace of Cobwebs, these paintings were simple, but the lean, energetic figures overflowed with life in a way that the stiff Merithuran friezes could not match. Halasaa’s fingers pressed and brushed over the palm of Calwyn’s hand with their own silent, insistent rhythm, until she almost felt that she could hear the beat of drums in time with the steady pulse of her own heart.The cave held her in a comforting embrace, as if Tremaris itself cradled her. The endless winter had prevented her from feeling the warm earth, from seeing green shoots push through the soil, hearing the whisper of growing things…As she sat there, Calwyn fell into a dreaming doze.

  At last there came the thud of the other sled outside, and Darrow stooped to enter the warm cave. Every face turned hopefully toward him, but he shook his head. ‘The Clarion is gone.’

  Trout whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault. He used chantment, there was nothing you could have done. We will survive without it.’ Darrow sought Calwyn’s eyes. ‘I should not have spoken as I did,’ he said quietly. ‘Forgive me.’

  Wordlessly, Calwyn nodded, and Darrow let out a long breath. Then he looked around at the cave, golden with firelight and fragrant with the smell of Tonno’s hot, savoury soup, and he smiled wearily. ‘No need for the Clarion here. Just like home.’

  Tonno glanced up. ‘You’re in time for dinner. Bring those bowls, Calwyn lass, and we’ll eat.’

  ‘Here, Trout,’ said Darrow, and handed him the battered lenses in their wire frame.Trout’s face lit up. ‘They were a little scratched, but I’ve repaired them.’

  Tonno ladled out the soup, and they talked as they ate, pondering the loss of the Clarion and the disappearance of Keela.

  Calwyn’s thoughts had taken another track. Where was Darrow thinking of, when he spoke of home?Was it the Black Palace in Merithuros, where he had spent so much of his childhood, and where, now, he was lord? Surely it was not the island of Ravamey, where he had lived a bare half-year, just one winter, with her and the others. Perhaps it was the cosy cabin of Fledgewing, where he had first known true friendship.

  She felt Halasaa’s questioning gaze on her. I was wondering, where is home to Darrow?

  That is easily answered. Halasaa serenely spooned up his soup. Wherever you are, Calwyn, that is his home.

  You think so? Calwyn glanced at Darrow, but his head was bent low over his bowl and he did not look up.

  seven

  The Time of One Egg

  AS SOON AS Keela entered Samis’s camp she saw that it was much more luxurious than that of the other travellers. His arched tent was made from panels of doubled canvas, his sleeping furs were thick and soft, and he carried fire in a brass pot. Keela lifted a corner of the tarpaulin and peered at the pile of large, strangely shaped silver containers hidden beneath it.

  A low, powerful voice sounded behind her. ‘Touch nothing.’ Keela jumped, and let the tarpaulin fall. ‘Darling, you never let me play with your toys! I’m not a child any more, you know. And I’ve been so good. Haven’t I? Don’t you think I deserve a little treat?’ She twirled a tendril of golden hair around her finger and gazed at him. Her eyes sparkled blue and her cheeks were flushed. ‘Let me peek in your boxes, just one peek!’

  Samis was unmoved.The flames from the campfire flickered over his face: the domed forehead with its thick, springing grey hair; the hooded eyes, intelligent and contemptuous; the beaked nose; the long, ruthless mouth. He wore an iron-grey cloak, the colour of tarnished silver, that hid secret glimmers within its folds. ‘There is nothing in those boxes to interest you.’

  Keela tossed her head. ‘You are unfair! I’ve done everything you asked. I’ve brought you the wretched horn, the Clarion of the Lame or whatever they call it, I sent Darrow to the Lazar-House, I’ve lured them all this way, and I made sure they fetched that bore of a girl.’ Keela pouted, the delicious pout that her admirers in the Palace of Cobwebs had fought duels to receive. But her eyes were sharp. ‘I can’t think why you’re bothering with that plain, grumpy little thing. Singer of all Songs, indeed! I told you in Gellan, there’s no more magic in her now than there is in me – and darling, you must admit, I’m so much prettier – ’

  Like a snake striking, Samis’s hand shot out and jerked her head back. Keela cried out.

  Samis’s mouth curled. ‘You agreed, in Gellan, not to question me. Did you not? That plain, grumpy little priestess will be the Singer of all Songs.’ He tightened his grip. ‘Say it.’

  ‘She – will – be – ’ Keela choked out, ‘what you say –

  ’ Samis released her. For a few moments there was no sound but Keela’s stifled sobs and the crackling of the fire.Then Samis said, in a bored voice, ‘You will have your reward, in time, just as I promised.’ He turned over the little Clarion; his fingertips caressed the swirling designs etched onto its golden surface.

  Keela wiped her eyes. ‘I’ve been waiting so long.’

  ‘How you’ve suffered!’ drawled Samis mockingly.

  ‘Don’t be angry with me, darling.’

  ‘I’m not angry, darling. Now, listen. This is what you will do next.’

  AFTER THE SOUP, Calwyn slept. The next she knew, she was lying on her side, tucked under a sleeping-fur, and looking out through the mouth of the cave to a sky sprinkled with stars.

  Someone touched her hand and she sat up. Halasaa laid a finger to his lips and gestured around the cave with laughter in his eyes. The others were all asleep, worn out by the events of the day and lulled by the warmth and shelter of the cave. Tonno snored, his big boots poking from under a pile of skins. Trout was buried under sleeping-furs. Darrow slept sitting upright, as he often did, frowning with thoughts that never let him rest entirely. Calwyn felt a sudden impulse to reach out and smooth that frown away.

  But Halasaa was beckoning. Let us walk, you and I.

  Calwyn drew her cloak around her shoulders and followed his silhouette out of the cave.Their feet crunched in the snow, and their shadows stretched, stark and blue, in the light of the single rising moon. The time of the Lonely Maiden. Calwyn used mind-speech, not wanting to break the silence of this still night. My people call it the time of One Egg, offered Halasaa. There are no lonely maidens among the Tree People.

  But you were lonely among them, Halasaa. A lonely boy.

  Yes. After my father died. He gestured ahead. I will show you where we lived, my father and I, in the winters.

  The cave was smaller than the one they’d left, and some distance from the others. Were you apart from your people even then? Yes.You know that most of theTree People have come to mistrust those with the gift of Becoming, like my father and me. Halasaa shot her a sideways look. Just as the Voiced Ones mistrust those with the gift of sung chantment.

  Calwyn sighed. How sad that the two peoples of Tremaris should have that in common, and nothing else.

  Halasaa put out his hand to help her climb the rocky path to the cave. The peoples of Tremaris have much in common. Each of us is born. Each of us will die. In that likeness is all the bond we need.

  Calwyn laughed. But we have that in common with – with goats, and fish, and with trees and grass!

  And so we do, replied Halasaa seriously.

  Calwyn shook her head
as they approached the cave-mouth. The peoples of Tremaris have stronger bonds with each other than we do with the other creatures of the world. Like the Power of Tongue.

  My people do not share that gift. We speak with our minds, not our tongues.

  Halasaa, it’s the same!

  No. It is a different gift.

  He was adamant. Calwyn smiled as she stepped into the cave that her friend and his father had shared in the winters of Halasaa’s childhood. Moonlight streamed through the entrance, lighting the cave with silver. Halasaa found a flint and tinder, and lit a tiny nut-oil lamp. He ran his hand along the walls. In this alcove we kept our food. Here, my father slept. And here was my own bed.

  Touched, Calwyn laid her hand on the low, child-sized niche, still lined with dried grasses. There are other sleeping-shelves here. Did you share this cave?

  With my mother and my twin sister.

  ‘I never knew you had a twin sister!’ Calwyn was so surprised she cried it aloud. ‘Or a mother!’ She stopped. Of course, Halasaa must have had a mother. But he had never spoken of her.

  As he so often did, Halasaa answered her question before she had a chance to ask it. I do not remember them. I was only one year old when they died.

  One year old, repeated Calwyn. I was one year old when my mother died.There was a tingling in her hands that she hadn’t felt since she’d lost her powers of chantment.

  Halasaa groped on a deep shelf, hidden in the shadows. We kept some things here, in memory of my mother. A hair comb, a dish she made. Small things. He drew out a bundle of cloth and spread it out on the floor of the cave.

  Calwyn sank to her knees and fingered the pretty wooden dish and the delicately carved comb. Then she set them aside, and picked up a slender bone hair pin. Her face went pale; slowly, she reached back to her own hair, plucked out one of the pins, and held the two to the light. Halasaa –