The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [54]
“Child of Air, why do you summon us?” The voices came from inside the pillar, but she heard them as thought, not sound, a chorus of voices speaking as one. “Where did you get this talisman you lay before us?”
“It was given to me as a dead and broken thing,” Val said aloud. “I have tried to heal it, but I know not how to give it power.”
“Do you know from whence it came?”
“It came from Haen Marn.”
The voices sighed and chattered. One strong voice, female, sang out from their midst. “You speak the truth,” she said. “And it be well for you that you do so.”
“Never would I lie to the great Lady of the North upon Earth.”
“You know my name, and thus you have the right to summon me. Why do you wish to heal this horn?”
“To bring Haen Marn back to its rightful place. I was told this horn might do so.”
“Very well. Lift up the horn.”
Valandario picked up the horn and held it out, flat on both palms. Inside the pillar the multicolored lights swirled, brightened, turned into a blaze of colors, as russet as apples in the autumn, as olive as new leaves upon the trees in spring, shot through with the clear citrine of gemstones. The light swelled into a sphere that enveloped Valandario and the horn both. For what seemed a timeless space of time she could see nothing but the dance of colored light.
It vanished, leaving her blind and blinking in an afterglow of gold. When she heard Grallezar shouting the ritual words, “It is finished!” Val stamped three times upon the ground. Slowly her sight eased back to normal. The tower had vanished with the fading of the light. The astral fire had disappeared and taken the etheric silver with it. Night lay heavy on the grasslands. The horn in her hands glowed like a candle lantern.
“Well, well,” Grallezar said briskly. “No doubt the Lady did somewhat, I’d say. We’d best consult with Dalla. That bit of silver you hold will light our way back to camp well enough.”
Branna was staring at the horn with her mouth open like a fish’s gape. She shut it and shook her head.
“I could hear her,” she said in a trembling voice. “When she spoke, I could hear her.”
“Splendid!” Val said, with a glance at Grallezar. “Your apprentice seems to be doing well.”
“I’d say so.” Grallezar was suppressing a grin. “But she’d best not be getting above herself. Let’s go back now.”
By the time they returned, Dallandra had woken from her nap. Valandario found her in her tent, where Calonderiel and Neb were finishing their dinner.
“I could use your advice,” Valandario said. “But I don’t mean to interrupt.”
“I’ve eaten all I can choke down,” Dalla said. “Let’s go to your tent. I’d like to see the horn now.”
“May I come, too?” Neb got to his feet fast.
Dallandra hesitated. Val shook her head no, ever so slightly.
“Not this time,” Dallandra said.
“But Branna was allowed—”
“That doesn’t concern you, Neb.” Dallandra fixed him with a cold look that silenced him. “Finish your dinner.”
“I will, then.” Neb sat down opposite Calonderiel, who gave Valandario a broad wink. Fortunately, Neb seemed not to notice.
Valandario and Dallandra went to Val’s tent, where Branna and Grallezar were waiting. When Val made a silver dweomer light, Dalla held the horn under it and examined it with a little gasp of surprise.
“It looks new,” Dallandra said at last, “and I can feel the dweomer quivering upon it. You’ve done a splendid job, Val.”
“My thanks,” Valandario said. “But it wasn’t me. The Lady of the North upon Earth did the working. I’m not even sure what