Chapter 27
Chessina was almost snippy to be prized out of her wonderful glasshouse extruded by the tower, to go to Beretrulle’s wedding.
Chessina loves weddings as a general thing, especially if permitted to run them, when she is in her element. Wisely, Beretrulle, who likes a quiet life when not at war, wanted her step-daughter in charge.
It was a big, state wedding in the temple of Frotterand and Frottilina in Adalsburg; and Dragovar and I were responsible for sending full-sized simulacra of the whole service to the temple in Ogier’s seat in Pennwath. It was a twist to the gate spell which Dragovar had invented, and the top scholars of the academy were a ritual circle to help us maintain it.
I love magic, and it solved so neatly the problem of it being really important for the Marchers as well as being a state wedding.
I might point out that Dragovar’s discovery would not have happened without Harmana. I had permitted the apprentices to mess about with some of the blue moon crystal, and Harmana discovered that the matching faces of cloven planes resonated with each other, and permitted communication, with pictures of those speaking as well, if the cleaving was precisely enough done. A couple of plates, some focusing crystals and a lens to make the picture the right way up, plus a twisted spell, and it was all good to go.
The wedding was lovely. An older couple, but still lovely; the bride and groom were obviously deeply affectionate, and if Ogier could not love her as fiercely as he had loved his first wife, they would have a comfortable, companionable marriage. Chessina informed me that the bride was already with child, which was considered by country folk the right time to get married. I hoped it would be a boy, and that Ogier would live long enough to be a big part in his life, because he was a good man, and a good duke, not always necessarily found in the same person. And the Marches needed stability. The new Goblin nation would help, but the wild lands were ever a problem.
Or were they?
A bit of research told me that though the wild lands were always risky, it was in the last one or two hundred years that they had been so full of unnatural creatures like manticore.
About the same time as the demonology really took off.
And it tied up one duke and one ducal wizard quite successfully.
Did the demonology arise as a way to deal with more incursions from the wilds? Or was it part of Fishface’s plan based on Nosy’s predictions to give someone – Sekhemef? – the chance to hint that demonology would help out? One might call it the chicken and the egg, but any scholar worth his salt knows that eggs were around a long time before chickens. And demons have been around longer than Manticore, so I knew where my money lay.
Of course, by now it was a moot point, and not worth pointing any moots at anyone.
We had a few years whilst Fishface and Nosy were Egged, and the crystal Eggs in which demons healed and reformed were, according to Chessina, virtually invulnerable, so not worth attacking them to kill them when otherwise vulnerable. Demons are many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.
I wondered if the material of the Eggs had anything in common with that of the crystal moon.
Arcana’s chime of approval resonated quite loudly. Of course, she had retrieved Chessina’s egg, so she knew pretty much what it was made of.
And now we knew that one could set up sympathetic harmonics within the Fae crystal, I could begin researching some kind of concentrated harmonic wave, or coherent light.
Getting it there in a sufficiently concentrated form, now that was the trick.
But with Nosy out of the way, we had bought some time.
And we might enjoy teaching the children, and watching Elizelle grow out of babyhood into being a sturdy little girl, pottering round behind one or other of us, or both, helping Chessina pollinate her apple blossom. Yes, Chessina did cheat outrageously to make her apple trees grow faster.
We – or rather, Chessina – managed two main strains. Something which was as close to Rosy West as makes no odds, and a tarter strain, very juicy and still quite sweet, which I liked more, and Chessina dubbed it ‘Towermaster’s Delight.’ We sent some Rosy West trees to Ogier, who almost cried to have the lost strain re-discovered. He and Beretrulle had also loved the campaign tent, which had warming runes embedded, something any dragon product takes well.
The peaceful, prosperous reign of King Beremar was becoming a byword.
I did not say a word about being able to have a few years in which we were not too busy.
I don’t believe in tempting fate.
But Chessina had not yet fallen with child, and whether that was because her body was a construct of Arcana’s or because Arcana was not ready for her to have a child when we had a visit to the Abyss to consider, I did not know.
But I did not think Arcana would be unkind enough to give Chessina periods if she did not mean her to be able to have children one day.
We also had the ancient elven book of tales to study – King Thorogar of the Dwarves had willingly loaned it to me. With Frigermar’s aid, we had restored much of it, including those portions about the Second Favour which had been obscure when we first used it. Thorogar was delighted to have back both the original, festooned with preservation spells, and a copy which could be readily made available. I had a second copy, and Frigermar kept one for himself, so we were all happy. We did not need to spread it further – but Frigermar loves old books for themselves and would read it purely for his own entertainment.
It opened with the legend of the Chosen Nine Gods.
It came to pass that the Chosen Nine rejected the servitude of the False Deity who chose to call himself The Commissioner, and his minions who called themselves gods. In great secret and unwonted amity was wrought the means to escape, based on the healing wombs of the Deep Fae, and cast in abyssal fire from the crystalised tears wrung at the moment of death from the torture of unicorns and other magical worshippers of the False Deity. Ten thousand fairies were sacrificed and nine hundred and ninety-nine unicorns, as well as six hundred and sixty-six Deep Fae in their crystal wombs. And lo! The travelling moon was fashioned, in which the Chosen Nine might travel between the stars, using the burn-stone made of unripe lead to destroy the planet as a means to propel them out amongst the stars. Lo, they travelled long, and the servants and companions they had brought dwindled as their substance was consumed. Cynfer, Allfather, decreed that one of them must be chosen by lot to be consumed, but secretly he spoke to Cyfrin the Trickster, that he should fix the ballot to make sure that it was Caraith, who wanted to ask not just take when they reached a haven. And so it came to pass, and Caraith gave his substance willingly, leaving eight, the others being Caradh, god of war, whose sire was a Deep Fae, Chwernias, god of magic, Caraiys, goddess of mating, Ceinlys, mate of Cynfer, Cochweth, goddess of blood and ritual, and Carideth, the crystal singer who steered the crystal moon.
And so at length the new world was reached, with a place of power on which to feed, but lo! In this place were the terrible and cruel Towermaster and Ringmistress, who forced the chosen nine to remain within their moon, taking only their servants and attendants and forcing them into set shapes and forms, inferior to their original forms and yet, of course, superior to all the other dwellers upon this world, named ‘elves’ and contained and constrained by the evil of the Towermaster and the false goddess who birthed him.
It is said that the time will come when a wandering star will permit the liberty of the Chosen, for the moving of the crystal moon will cause the wandering star to crash into the ocean of the new world, creating mayhem and much death energy permitting the establishment of a Fae rulership, who will come as saviours and be adored by the subjects on whom they might readily feed.
So sayeth the Bard Gwalchmai, servant of the Chosen, in the last breath of his substance as it fades unfed in this harsh land.
I was glad I had read this out to Chessina only, and not to the children.
We looked at each other in consternation.
“Chilling,” said Chessina.
“It brings a new perspective to looking for the wandering star of Emaxtiphrael in the prophecy Serashawn gave,” I said. “What was it…’Hail, Towermaster! The stars have long told of your coming. You and the innocent, untouched by evil, must gather your companions with care, to destroy the interloper moon and its denizens. Watch for the coming of the wandering star of Emaxtiphrael.’”
“But who is the innocent, untouched by evil?” asked Chessina, panicking.
“That’s you, my sweet,” I said. “You were untouched by the evil of the abyss and you had such a sweet nature even before your innocent soul was restored to you.”
“I’m not innocent in many ways…” worried Chessina.
“Arcana is also sister to Agape, god and goddess of love – in all its forms,” I reminded her. “Innocence of sexual love is only one form of innocence. You came from the abyss still able to love, and care for others.”
“I wondered if it was Harmana, as Arcana was so insistent that we take her as our apprentice,” said Chessina.
“I rather fancy that as Harmana has a special relationship with the Tower, whom she sees as male, she will be our rock, here,” I said.
The chime was soft and mellow.
It had been annoying at first, but it was handy to know when we were on the right path.
“I think that Silavara is a given as one companion,” I said. “And, I fancy, we will be taking various fae-descendants. Sirrit, likely enough, maybe Serashawn; Tancyfrwys probably which will mean Blaithamlwg. And I wouldn’t mind a dwarf or two at my side, just because.”
“We know many powerful people,” said Chessina, “But a hunch tells me that they are not to be chosen just for being the most powerful, but perhaps to match the Chosen Nine – or Eight.”
“They were nine; and we should reflect that, ignoring the essential cannibalistic murder of Caraith,” I said. “Because, that’s a tale. Suppose he was not killed, merely drained somewhat to get them here? It was not specific.”
“Good point,” said Chessina. “We need to understand better how they achieve this drain; and it seems akin to that of a succubus. I do actually know a succubus,” she added. “If we can bribe her enough, we could maybe question her.”
I was not keen, but it might be the best that we had.
And I was sure that Arcana would drop a few hints in the meantime.
“Well, we can make lists,” I suggested. “I’m sure Arcana will let us know if we get any list wrong.”
“Of course she will,” said Chessina. “Castamir, I need to ask you something very important.”
“What’s that, love?” I said.
“Do you think we should dispel the disquiet this book has brought by thinking about something else?” she asked, gazing up at me.
I knew what she meant, and I picked her up, bridal fashion.
“I think that’s a very good idea,” I said.
