The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [208]
“Well, true spoken.” Yet Branna looked saddened by the thought of such a wait.
When Dallandra considered the moon that night, she saw that it had reached its third quarter.
They spent several days studying the vast and elaborate carvings to fix them in their minds. Dallandra drilled Branna mercilessly until they both knew the position of every cluster of design, every sigil that they recognized, every digraph, and every unknown mark. Dallandra had been hoping that the digraphs would identify the various portions of the designs, but they seemed to be mere abbreviations, perhaps well known to the founders of Haen Marn, a mystery to her.
In between their sessions of study, Dallandra would look in on Laz. His delicate leg, turned hollow as bird bones are, would heal very slowly, she realized.
“You’ll have to be patient,” she told him one day.
He answered with a croak that might have meant anything. Only Mara could truly understand him, though she had hopes that in time, as he worked on speaking more clearly, others would be able to as well.
“He does say that he wishes not for you to see him in this pass,” Mara told her.
Laz croaked out a fairly clear, “That’s true.”
“Very well,” Dallandra said. “Mara can do everything for you that can be done.”
When Dallandra left his chamber, Mara followed her out. They stood at the head of the stairs to talk.
“Think you that you may ken the secrets of the isle?” Mara said.
“Eventually, perhaps,” Dalla said. “It’s a very tangled puzzle.”
“No doubt. I do think me, though, that the isle will go nowhere till all its people come home. You should call my father to us.”
“I know you’re eager to meet him, but I doubt me if the time is right for that.”
Mara smiled, but her eyes flashed anger. With a toss of her head she strode away, followed by half-a-dozen cats. You may be the lady of this place one fine day, Dallandra thought, but that doesn’t mean you can give me orders.
Berwynna discovered that she enjoyed flying on dragonback, even though Uncle Mic’s constant shrieks, moans, groans, and heavy sighs did detract from much of the pleasure during the first two days’ traveling. By the time they found Haen Marn, though, he had lapsed into a welcome if abject silence. Although Medea had worried about her ability to find the island, with Wynni along, a true daughter of Haen Marn, they flew straight to the river that led to Lin Serr. From there, following it upstream to the island itself proved simple.
Through wisps of mist, Berwynna saw the lake and in its center the island. The sight of the familiar manse and Avain’s tower moved her to tears. Only then did she realize how badly she’d missed her mother and Avain and Lonna and even, she had to admit, her sister. I’ll see my brother Enj again, too, she thought. It be good to be home!
“Down we go!” Medea called out.
With a swoop of wings the green dragon sailed through the mists, made a wide turn over the lake, and landed with a graceful flapping onto the shore by the boathouse. Berwynna and Mic slid from her back just as Avain came running with a howl of joy.
“Wynni bring a dragon!” Avain was chanting the words in Dwarvish as she lumbered along. “Wynni bring a dragon!”
Behind her came Angmar, walking with some dignity, but smiling like the sun itself, breaking through clouds. Berwynna rushed to her mother’s arms and, holding her, wept again in sheer joy.
A smiling Dallandra turned from the window. “Let’s just stay inside,” she said. “I don’t want to intrude on the family. They all look so happy to have Wynni back, even Mara.”
“Well and good, then,” Branna said. “It gladdens my heart that Medea could fly through the vortex—safely, I mean.”
“She’s a true dragon, that is, ‘dragon’ is her natural body form. It’s not like the situation with Rori or Laz.”
“Of course! I should have thought of that. Mara’s not the only one with much to learn.”
“All of us have much to learn.” With a sigh Dallandra