Proceed to Chapter 9 of the Elvin Star
An air of satisfaction sparkled in the Throne Room. The Seven Queens sat, smiling, around the giant table, watching a flickering scrying-crystal. Within it, Lyss sat against an invisible wall, a blindfold bound around her face. There were tiny, bloody crescents etched into her palms where her fingernails had dug into her clenched fists, and the dark cloth of the blindfold was wet with tears, but she was singing to herself. Her sweet soprano echoed eerily within the silent chamber. It was Lirit who recognized the tune, and began to sing along with her, softly at first, then louder. Her voice, whispering of the siren’s song, captured the other Queens, and they sat silent, as the woman and the girl sang prophet’s words to beautiful harmony, though the girl thought herself unheard.
“There is light in darkness, and hope in fear,
and a child in a Star, and a star so very near.
There is a child of the Kings, son of the hills,
who knows how to hear the Moon’s Eye’s trills.
Come Star-child, come, little Prince, come, come save us all.
There is a meaning in the Eye’s plaintive song,
there is a river of stone, though it moves not along.
Come Star-child, come, little Prince, come, come save us all.
Together with many, and yet, all alone, whisper of the product of all Seven Powers,
and the Star shall be found in the tall Crystal Towers.
Come Star-child, come little Prince, come, come find the Stone.”
The last note of the tune rang out in the Throne Room, falling to a whisper, then finally dying. The remaining silence was uncomfortable, full of impatient longing and unsure hope. Celia hastily wiped away a tear. Aurora and Irvette both traced the ElvinStar upon their chests.
It was Glenna who spoke first, not making eye contact with the others, but instead staring at her hands, folded in her lap. “I don’t know if I can do this to them. Lyss, well, it’s like the rhyme goes: she’s a child of noone, but everyone’s daughter. I feel responsible for her. She doesn’t have parents to look after her. She may be a powerful mage, but she’s a child. It’s so strange that she would sing that song…it’s a song of hope, but we don’t know how the rhyme ends.”
“She is the one. I have Seen.” Celia’s face was set, determined.
“She might die.”
“Glenna! I think you forget what we are facing. With the Star broken, and the Stone gone, we might ALL die…or worse. Lyss is of the Borderlands. She will understand the need.” Irvette’s voice was fast and piercing, for once speaking for herself, and not merely translating her mother’s thoughts. “They are the best we have.”
Laeleena sighed, and the other Queens’ bickering fell silent. “Daughters, you forget…when any student chooses to enter ElvinHall, they accept the possibility of death. Most of them become soldiers, or spies, and even those who do not fight are part of an effort to protect us all. Everyone is in danger, great mage or small. They both chose this path. They would be ashamed if they knew we even contemplated that they might not accept it.”
Lirit nodded. “Great-mother, you speak the truth, as always. So mote it be.”
“I hope so, great-daughter. I truly hope so. Now come, we have a Master’s Ball to arrange. About the tablecloths…”Lyss felt the blindfold being torn off her face. Startled, she realized she was still singing, silently now, her lips mouthing the words. Blinking at the light, she tasted fresh tears as they tumbled over her eyelids and trickled down her cheek. Laurie’s face, twisted with anger, swam into her vision. Lyss hastily wiped her eyes.
“Damn them! They made me do it, Lyss, I swear. They made me! I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known it would hurt you so much.”
“I’m alright now. I promise. Sometimes they don’t realize how hard their tests are…or maybe they do, and they want to make sure I’m strong enough. Who knows. But it’s…” Lyss sighed and rubbed her forehead where a headache had begun to pound, “..it’s okay.”
“Promise?” Laurie sprawled out on the floor next to Lyss in her usual graceless fashion. Her grey skirt was bunched up over her knees, and her stockings rolled down to the tops of her shoes. Lyss chuckled in spite of herself, remembering the way the Decorum teacher had thrown up her hands in despair and banished Laurie from her class after first seeing the splayed out in this way.
“Promise. What is it that Weapons Master Arash used to say? ‘Real mages cry…something something…’”
“only the weak hide their tears.’ Why?”
“I guess I was being weak, and stupid to tell myself that emotions were a sign of frailty. The Queens know best, even if I occasionally wonder if they’re humane. They could have just told me I was being a little fool.”
Laurie wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Tell you what, I’ll get Eric to bring your gown. If that doesn’t help, nothing will.” Snapping her fingers three times, she whispered a spell, then said to the tiny transparent globe which appeared in her cupped hands, “Eric, bring Lyss’s gown, please.” With another word, the bubble popped and Laurie relaxed. “I wish I were getting my Mastery this year. We have to wear our regular robes to the ceremony. Green and grey again. It makes me look like a silver-edged lizard. Promise you’ll tell me everything about the ball?”
“Of course! Even if I have to leave on assignment the next day, we’ll stay up talking until the wee sma’s.”
Eric peered through the small door of the dressing room. “I’d ask why you two are in there, but I don’t think I want to know. Laurie, if you will kindly come out so we can get this over with.”
Laurie giggled. “It’s this year’s presentation ritual. It’s an unofficial requirement that all of the Moon-followers be crazy, you know, and Mum Elfrida is no exception, though she hides it well.” Laurie stood up, stretched, bones cracking back into place, and stood next to Eric. They clasped hands, and the elder wardrobe-assistant drew from behind his back a neatly folded swath of beautiful, glittering deep blue brocade which shimmered to dark purple and then amethyst in the light. Lyss gasped in awe. With their free hands, Eric and Laurie each took a corner of the cloth, and then spun outward, finally letting go of the material. It unfolded, taking on shape as it twirled, suspended in air, until a beautiful gown hung above the ground.
The brocade was patterned with tiny lavender septagrams, dusted with silver embroidery. At the square neckline, they linked to form a chain, glittering in the light. The bodice was tight and fitted, opening up like the petals of a lily to form the skirt. Short sleeves had been carefully designed to cool a body still unaccustomed to the warmth of the lowlands, but still hide the bruise Lyss had recently sustained during weapons practice. Beneath the skirt, a pair of delicate slippers, silver encrusted with deep blue embroidery, sparkled above thin rock crystal heels.
“Oh, Laurie!” Lyss exclaimed, throwing her arms around her still-dizzy friend. “It’s perfect!”
“Really?” Laurie grinned happily, then winked. “Do you like it? I can’t tell. An Yinlang merchant was selling the material last year, and Mum Elfrida thought it matched your eyes perfectly, so she bought it. One of the Apprentices embroidered the ElvinStars.”
“Should I try it on?”
“Oh, no, you needn’t bother. We weren’t sure if you would recover fast enough to be fitted in time, so we made a simulacrum with your exact proportions. You can if you like, of course, but I imagine you’re exhausted beyond coherency. I’m amazed your standing up as it is.”
“I’m about to fall down any minute. I’ll have to wake up early tomorrow morning and do weapons practice: I can’t possibly even do stretches now, let alone sword-or-staff-fighting. I’m heading off to bed. If I don’t see you in the next few days, I will at the Ceremony, so there’s no need to say good-bye. Goodnight, Laurie, and thank you, Eric.”
“Goodnight, StarMaster.” Laurie winked. “You might as well get used to the title, you know.”
Proceed to Chapter 9 of the Elvin Star
The Elvin Star:
Prologue | 1
| 2 | 3 | 4
| 5 | 6 | 7
| 8 | 9 | 10
| 11
Short Stories:
For Robbie
Poems:
Wizard | White
Witch
©1999-2002 Lizbeth