The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [55]
“May I ask somewhat?” Branna said.
“Of course.” Grallezar showed pointed teeth with a grin. “But we may not answer.”
“North of Earth,” Branna asked. “Does that correspond to Earth of Earth?”
“It does,” Grallezar said. “Each direction hath its element, and each element its place.”
Branna nodded, thinking this over.
Dallandra handed Valandario the horn. “Have you sounded it?”
“I haven’t. Enj is most likely the only person who can blow the summoning. He belongs to the island by blood.”
“True, but we should make sure it’s not all sour or suchlike.”
Val raised the horn to her lips, took a deep breath, and blew. The horn sang with one long note of the purest music, not loud, but so sweet that the four women smiled to hear it. Val started to speak, then realized that the horn was glowing brighter than the dweomer light above them. As the silver gleam swelled, the horn became longer, thinner, but at the same time weightless. It became a tangle of lines of light, wending around on themselves, until Valandario held a ball of blazing white light in her hands. All at once the sphere turned into a long ray of light and shot through the tent like an arrow. Dallandra yelped in surprise, and Branna made a futile grab in the direction of the ray of light just as it slid through the doorway and disappeared into the night outside. The four of them stared at each other until at last Valandario could speak.
“What have I done?” Val said with a little moan. “We’ll never get the wretched island back now!”
“You’ve not done anything I wouldn’t have done,” Dallandra said, “so don’t berate yourself. Didn’t I tell you to try it out?”
“I suppose, but—”
“Besides,” Grallezar put in, “why be you so sure that this does mean disaster? The horn may well be flown off to its true home. For all we know, this be part of the working.”
“For all we know.” Val made a sour face in her direction. “Well, I’ll hope and pray that you’re right.”
“That’s all we can do,” Dallandra said. “But oddly enough, I feel right about this. Somewhat’s on the move, Val. Don’t despair just yet.”
In the far-off land of Alban, a howl of wind woke Dougie in the middle of the night. He sat up in bed just as the wind slammed into the side of the house and made it shudder. A flash of lightning lit the room with a blue glow. Thunder roared directly overhead. With a yelp his brothers woke and sat up next to him. Dougie heard his mother scream, and his father’s voice, loudly soothing, right through the wall.
“What in God’s name?” Gavin said.
“Just a storm,” Dougie said, “but a strong one.”
For some while the wind howled around the steading. Now and again lightning split the sky and cast an eerie pattern of light through the shutters, banging hard at the loft window, on the opposite wall. Thunder followed, louder at first, then softer as the peak of the storm moved off to the north. Both Gavin and Ian fell asleep once the thunder slacked, but Dougie lay awake, worrying about Berwynna, out on an island with the wind kicking up big waves all around her.
With dawn the rain slacked, and the sky began to clear. When the family gathered around the table to eat breakfast and discuss the storm, Dougie gobbled down a bowl of porridge. He did his chores, then left the steading. Rather than argue about his destination, he told no one that he was going out to Haen Marn.
At the lake, the silver chain hung from its boulder on the shore, but from the chain dangled—nothing. One bent loop of metal marked where the silver horn usually hung. He swore aloud, then squatted down to examine the ground. Not there, either. He straightened up and glanced around, but no glint of silver lay among the scrubby bushes and new grass. Had someone stolen the thing? A cold ripple of fear ran down his back. What if he couldn’t reach the island? What if he never saw Berwynna again?
Dougie cupped his hands around his mouth and called out a long halloo. Only the lapping of waves answered him. He tried again, louder. When he finally saw the boat heading out