Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [96]
He paused, lost in thought, then snapped his fingers. "That's it." He held the dagger up, and looked into Larajin's eyes. "I'd like to try something… the word, in Espruar, for 'warm light of the sun.' " Larajin nodded her consent.
Leifander held the dagger aloft and spoke a single word, "SolicallorV
The blade glowed a dull orange, like metal freshly pulled from the forge. Though she stood a pace away from Leifander, a wave of heat washed over Larajin. Leifander drew his breath in with a hiss. The hilt itself must have been uncomfortably hot, but he clung to it with determination. He held the dagger toward Larajin, and she warmed her hands over its ruddy glow. Before its heat faded, he rose to his feet and thrust the blade into the ice next to them.
The ice melted away. Trickles of water flowed from the hole the dagger's heat bored in the tower, only to slow and freeze again into dripping icicles near their feet. Leifander methodically pushed the dagger deeper into the ice, forcing it in until his arm was inserted up to the shoulder and the blade was no more than a finger's width from Somnilthra's cheek. He withdrew the blade and handed it to Larajin. Even as she took it, the glow faded and the metal cooled. She tucked it away in its sheath.
"What do we do now?" she asked. "How do we awaken Somnilthra?"
Leifander gave her a startled look. "I thought you knew."
Larajin shook her head. "You're the elf!" she protested.
"Half-elf-as are you." His eyes grew thoughtful, then twinkled. "Do you suppose, if we put those two halves together, we might come up with the answer?"
The tower gave another shuddering rumble, and a piece on the far side broke free and fell to the lake below with a splash. Larajin stared at Somnilthra, but despite the cracking of the ice and the rumbles that coursed through her tower, the entombed elf lay silent and still.
"I know a spell that can be used to contact an elf in the Reverie," Leifander said at last, "but I don't know if it will reach all the way to Arvanaith." He glanced at Larajin. "Have you been blessed with any spells that magically alter speech?"
Larajin nodded eagerly. "Only one," she said. "It lets me speak to Goldheart."
"The tressym?" Leifander's eyes brightened. "That's good. It means you're touching the creature's mind. If the gods are willing, they might grant you the power to also touch the mind of someone so long in the Reverie. If we pray together, to our respective gods, we might be able to reach Somnilthra. I can locate her spirit in Arvanaith, and you can touch her mind and hear her whispered thoughts."
Larajin stared at the hole the dagger had melted in the ice. It almost reached Somnilthra, but not quite.
"Do you think she'll hear me?" she asked doubtfully.
Leifander shrugged. "We won't know until we try."
He kneeled and spread his hands behind him in a pose that reminded Larajin of Kith's bow. A loud rumble came from the crystalline tower next to them, reminding Larajin that they didn't have much time left. The moon was steadily slipping toward the horizon, and she could see that the towers were slowly descending toward the surface of the lake.
She bowed her head and cupped her hands over her midriff, gently pressing the locket at her wrist against the spot where the mark of Sune had been. She began to pray. Beside her, she heard Leifander doing the same in the melodious language of the forest elves.
Inside the ice, moonlight shifted on Somnilthra's face as the moon set. Or had that been her eyehds flickering? Larajin concentrated on Somnilthra's tattooed cheek and prayed even more fervently.
"Hanali Celanil hear me and bless me," she whispered. "Sune hear me and answer. Give me the power to speak to my sister, and be heard. Bless her with
speech, and give me the power to hear her in return."
The locket grew warm and began to glow a dull red, and the scent of Hanali's Heart rose around her. Encouraged by these signs, Larajin leaned closer to the hole in the ice and cupped her hands around it, as she would around