The Unmaking (The Last Days of Tian Di, #2)(20)

When she came back inside, Swarn was already lying down with a rough blanket pulled around her, her shoulders rising and falling steadily with her breath. Eliza unrolled her own sleeping mat and lay down gingerly, sore and bruised from the day’s training.

In her dreams the house was crowded with ravens. They were all jabbering at her, their nasty beaks snapping open and shut, and what she heard them saying was “Making, Making, Making.”





Chapter


5

After the day’s work in the Inner Sanctum was done, Foss went to Aysu’s chamber and requested an audience. They sat facing each other across the low stone table inlaid with ebony crabs.

“I did not wish to trouble Kyreth with this, as it may be nothing,” said Foss. “But I believe the holes our enemy is making in the barriers may be more dangerous than we realize. I cannot decipher the pattern and yet there is a pattern, some kind of Deep Logic, I am certain. I catch hints of it, but cannot link it all together.”

“Is it perhaps only fear, or weariness, Spellmaster, that makes you think so?” Aysu suggested softly. “You did not sleep last night. All the manipulators of water were disturbed.”

“Forgive me,” he said humbly. “I became overanxious. It is not only due to my examination of the holes. My trances have been full of disturbing images. Disaster. Is no one else seeing such things?”

“No, Spellmaster. You are the first to say so.”

“Then perhaps it is nothing,” said Foss, relieved. “If something were truly amiss, you too would have sensed it.”

“Perhaps not,” said Aysu thoughtfully. “The barriers are your design. It may be that you are more sensitive to the damage being done to them. It should be looked into further. I will inform his Eminence.”

“Thank you,” said Foss. He rose to go but Aysu made a gesture inviting him to sit again.

“Spellmaster, you know that in seven years, I will pass on.”

“Yes. You will be missed.”

“You are very kind to say so. The matter of my successor is not yet decided.”

“No. You will appoint a successor with Kyreth’s approval three years before your passing.”

“For many years, it was common knowledge that you were favoured. You are the Spellmaster; your knowledge is unparalleled and your power respected by all.”

“I thank you. But circumstances have changed. I understand well that it is not for me to become an Emmisarius. I am content.”

“Good. The matter is quite out of my hands, Foss. But you still have my respect. That is what I wished to tell you.”

“I am most grateful,” Foss said, moved. “Convey my greetings to his Eminence when you speak to him.”

“I will do so.”

~~~

After they had eaten breakfast, Eliza said to Swarn, “Tell me about Making.”

Swarn gave Eliza a look of such scorching intensity, it felt almost like the gaze of a Mancer. “An odd request from a girl who can barely conjure,” she said.

“I dinnay mean teach me how to do it,” said Eliza, irritated. “I mean tell me about it, lah. What is it, exactly? I know the Ancients Made Tian Di, but do other beings have the power to Make?”

“It is exactly what it sounds like – the creation of something that did not exist before. As you say, it is the power of the Ancients and I could not teach it to you even if I were mad enough to wish to. Why are you asking me this, Eliza?”

“I had a dream, aye. Or...lots of dreams, praps. Ravens kept saying Making to me, over and over again. It seemed to go on all night.”

Swarn stood up in one fluid motion and paced in a circle around the small earth hut. “That is very strange,” she said at last.

“Aye,” said Eliza dryly. “What do you think it means?”

Swarn shook her head.

“I don’t know. Making lies at the root of all Magic. What we call Magic is, in fact, the residue of the Ancients in their creation, for no being can separate itself from what it Makes. The Magic of Making, the power of the Ancients, is still in the earth and the air and the sky and our own blood and breath. We call upon it for all our lesser Magic.”

“So no beings since the Ancients have actually Made anything?” Eliza asked.

“Some have,” said Swarn. “We have only myths and stories to go by. The story of Making that is most widely believed harks from the Middle Days. There was a wizard who lived with the Immortal Dragons in the East. He was called the Great Dragon Mage. It is said that he quarreled with the Lord Dragon and stole from them the sacred flame that was the source of their power. He fled the Dragon Isles and came to Tian Di, where he used the sacred flame to Make the mortal dragons. They were his creatures, bound to him. They served him and did his bidding. But as they procreated and their numbers grew, their power became equal to and then greater than his. They drew upon his life force, his essence, to increase their own strength. Though he tried, he could not sever the link between them and was absorbed by them entirely. I do not know if this story is true but it is certain that there were no mortal dragons before the Middle Days, and since those days the Immortal Dragons have not been seen in Tian Di.” There was a strange gleam in Swarn’s eyes as she spoke. She seemed to be looking at something far beyond the small, dark room. “There are some other stories in the Mancer Library I expect,” she finished. “You would be better asking them to tell you about Making. I have told you all I know now.”