Chapter 25: 16. At Faradwel

~Meriel~

Meriel woke with her head throbbing. She was lain on a bed of dried pine needles, the top of her head flush against the trunk of a tree. At first she wondered where she was. Then, slowly, her memory returned in drips. Her father, dead, with a blade in his belly. A long walk north. The drear of the Salted Lands. An abomination, black as shadow, bursting forth from dead undergrowth. Cad and Helicent gone, and her leg hot with pain as it twisted beneath her.

The leg was better now. There was still a mild ache, thrumming up to a painful intensity when she put too much weight on it or thought too hard about it. Wherever she was, somebody had thought to cover the broken leg with a bundled shawl. That was for the best. Meriel didn't want to look at it. Broken bones could be a nasty sight, she knew that, and she'd always been especially squeamish when it came to her own ailings. She'd once seen Ancenne Bayren, the barmaid at Fer Bentore's tavern, slicing her hand badly with a carving knife. That had been a nasty wound, and everyone agreed that Ancie was lucky not to have lost the hand altogether, but Meriel had watched it almost dispassionately. Her concern had been for Ancie rather than the horror of the wound. But when she'd nicked her own finger on an angry thorn, even the tiny beadle of blood had made her violently ill. Her father had cut her again that evening, a slice on the back of her little finger, and made her watch herself bleed until her stomach settled.

She looked around. Shadows surrounded her; the tree she was pressed against had a thick canopy, looming and verdant. Lifting her head she saw stonework. Walls, made of terracotta bricks, stretching at least a few dozen feet high, much taller than anything she'd ever seen before. It was a wonder they didn't just fall down, standing so tall. Meriel was certain that whoever had built this place was possessed by talents from the stars. Where the walls had corners, they were broken up by quoins of a darker, greenish stone; archways of curved brick marked windows, open gaps now where the wind broke through. The walls were starting to decay. Looking more closely she could see that many of the bricks were cracked, and had creeping plants poking through. Others had fallen away together.

She was in a city of ruin.

Beyond the buildings, if she craned her neck at just the right angle, she could see the rough, imposing face of a mountain, craggy peaks that towered high and threatened to block out the sun. All through the Salted Lands she'd seen mountains in the distance. They'd been far to the north, not of concern at all. She wondered if perhaps she had come to the foot of these mountains. Were they the edge of the Salted Lands, or a gateway keeping the worst of its horrors contained within?

A chill ran through Meriel then, followed by a rumble, and she realised that she was famished. When had she last eaten? Even then they'd been subsisting on bugs for much of the time since Camistane. Had she not eaten her fill in the inn there, she might have died of hunger already. Her lips were dry too. She needed water. Putting her palms flat on the pine needles, she tried to push herself up, and crawl in search of the others. They must all be here, she reasoned. Someone had to have brought her here, so she knew she wasn't alone. Telis and Helicent and Cad had probably left her here to sleep while they searched for somewhere to shelter the night. They wouldn't have gone far without her. If she could just...

Her arms wavered under the strain, and she fell back. A fresh wave of pain burst through from her leg, and the ache in her head was given a boost. She cried out, but it was a feeble cry.

She lay there for a while, vaguely watching for birds in the canopy or something to take her mind off the pain. Her head felt heavy, and her eyes just wanted to slip shut. She denied the drowse. Her friends would be back soon, and she wanted to be awake when they found her. Otherwise they might leave her again.

Eventually, after what might have been a minute or an hour, Meriel heard a noise breaking through the stillness. Telis was talking. "I did wonder if she truly was the one," she said. "I still do."

She lifted her head up, suddenly alert. Whoever Telis was talking to, they were out of earshot, too far away or too softly spoken for Meriel to hear. Telis definitely paused to listen to a response, though.

"Yes, I know I must have faith." A pause, then: "No. I'll not put the girl to a test just for my own satisfaction. She's had it hard enough."

"Telis?" Meriel was surprised at how dry her voice sounded, how parched her throat. How long had she been out of it? "Who are you talking to?"

Telis appeared from behind a cracked column. "Meriel, child, you're awake. I was talking to myself."

"To yourself?"

"It's good to talk to yourself every now and then," said Telis. "It helps you to see when you sound completely stupid."

Meriel laughed. The act made her head hurt again, so she groaned.

Telis knelt down beside Meriel, a look of concern on her face, and held the back of her hand against Meriel's forehead. Her skin felt cold to the touch, and the ring on her index finger especially so. "Your head is hot," she said. "I think you have a fever, child." She turned away from Meriel and went for her saddlebag, which Meriel noticed was flush against one of the rotting stone edifices. She pulled from it her metal cookpot and a small bowl, and cleared away some of the pine needles to make a safe spot to light a fire. She conjured it from her hands in the way a Magus did, a way Meriel found fascinating.

The sudden warmth was nice against Meriel's skin. She was frigid cold, shivering no matter how much she huddled herself up. Telis didn't seem bothered by the cold. She wore only her riding dress; her shawl, Meriel realised, was currently covering Meriel's leg.

Telis set the cookpot over the fire and pulled from a leather pouch hung from her hip a little glass vial with a cork stopper. She released the stopper and upturned the vial over the cookpot; a thick, yellow-green liquid came out, sizzling as it hit the hot base of the pot. Telis tapped a finger against the vial to get every last drop of the liquid out.

"Is Helicent hunting for supper?"

Telis turned away from the cookpot, her lips pursed. "No, child."

Meriel frowned. "Then where is she? And Cad?"

"Otenlan is a dangerous place," said Telis. "I waited as long as I dared after fighting that creature, and I searched the surrounding trees, but of your friends there was no sign."

"You left them?"

"Not willingly." Telis' voice grew firm. "Even were you not hurt, it would have been unwise to stay for too long. I did not kill that creature, I only beat it back for a time. Soon enough it would have returned, and likely not alone. What you must understand is that the heart of the Salted Lands is as dangerous as any place in the Grasp. People get eaten up by the very dirt if they tread blithely. There is nothing more I can do for your friends; had I stayed with you there for another hour, another ten hours, I'd have been no more likely to find them. And you could not have afforded that. Your injuries are grave indeed. They need healing. I've done what I can, but I am no expert in the matter. I would not have stopped even here, if I could have carried you further."

Meriel thought of Helicent and Cad, fear on their faces. Helicent had thrown herself at the creature. If she'd died... They were only here out of concern for Meriel. If she'd never been brought to the Village, they'd never have had to come after her. Cad would be at Dam Huradon's forge, making something or other. Helicent would be hunting in the woods.

They'd given that up on her behalf.

"Will they be alright?"

Telis pulled a pained face. "It's possible they made their own way somewhere," she said. "With luck on their side they might find the Vedeol border. The blight is not so bad there. But I can make no promises. Do you understand?"

Meriel nodded. Her throat was dry, now, and not because of her thirst. "Where are we now?"

"Faradwel," said Telis. "Once the gateway to the Gerenal Mountains. Now a ruin."

That struck Meriel as sad. Even now, you could see the remnants of what must have been a fine city. "What caused it to be ruined?"

"War. Child, we are still in the Salted Lands. Much of Faradwel was destroyed, along with the rest of Otenlan, in the fighting. What remains has been all but given over to nature and abomination. It's maintained well enough for Magi to pass through, but used rarely. There's another pass out of the mountains to the north, and ways across into Falien or Thamm that aren't too strenuous. And none of those require a journey through the Salted Lands." She busied herself at the cookpot. "This was a beautiful place once. I remember, when I was a girl, on my way to see the Tower for the first time, I was taken by all the beauty. The great archway, carved into the very mountains, is something to behold even now. Back then it was splendid. All manner of wonderful plants grew upon it. The women of Otenlan would come to pick flowers there, and blow kisses to us as we passed. I often think of them."

Meriel adjusted herself, ignoring the stabbing pain in her leg. "Where did you come from? Before you were a Magus?"

Telis froze. "From a little village called Nibur. Oh, you would have adored it there. In summer the fields were yellow with wheat. There was this grove, full of ancient willow trees. We used to swim in the watering hole there. On hot days there was nothing better." She shook her head. "I expect all of that's gone now."

"Haven't you ever been back?"

Telis turned to face Meriel. Her lip wavered. "I had good times in Nibur, and I don't regret them for a second. But all that belongs to a part of my life that's gone. I'm not the girl who grew up in those amber fields, nor will I ever be again. And in any case there's nothing for me to go back to. Nibur was in Otenlan. It's as dead as the rest of this land."

Meriel could not find the words to say. "I'm sorry," she tried, though that didn't feel like it was nearly enough.

Telis forced a smile nonetheless. "I was a woman grown and linked to the Hummingbird before Otenlan fell, child. I had plenty of opportunities to see the old village. Why should I mourn for something I didn't care for when it still lived?"

"But it was your home."

"As the Village was yours," said Telis. "Would you return there today, if I gave you leave?"

Meriel shook her head.

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"What you must remember, Meriel, is that we are not beholden to our memories. They are not diminished by us finding another course for our life. Nibur was the making of me, but I will not let it imprison me."

"You said--" Meriel stopped. Shook her head, embarrassed, and let her head drop.

Telis heard her, though. "Said what, child?"

"You said that Otenlan was... lost in a war against the Magi. How did you decide which to be loyal to?"

Telis grimaced. "I was no fighter, Meriel. I spent most of the war training in the Tower, or else far away from the entire affair. Some of it I spent here, in Faradwel. I offered medical aid to those who had been hurt. Potions, poultices, the things a wise woman could have made. And when they weren't looking, a bit of magic too."

"So you helped the people here? You stood with Otenlan?"

"I helped anybody who needed helping. It made no difference to me whose banner they stood under. But had I been forced to choose a side, I'd have chosen the Magi. That is who I am, after all. And in those days the worst excesses weren't known."

"Excesses?"

Ignoring Meriel's question, Telis scooped a portion of hot soup into her little bowl and brought it over. "Drink this," she said. "It might not taste like much, but it will burn off that fever, and ease the pain in your leg. We must be off soon. It's not safe to linger anywhere for too long in the Salted Lands. Even for a Magus."

"When does this end?" Meriel sighed, gulping down the soup. It was hot, but bitter, and left an almost metallic taste in her mouth. "Where are you taking me?"

"The Octal Tower," said Telis. "You wanted to become a Magus."

"But why me? You never explain anything. You say I'm special, that I'm the daughter of prophecy, that I can become a Magus--but you never say why. Whenever it comes to explanations, you delay. Put it off until another day. No more. We're here for the night, with nothing else to do. Today is the other day, now. Tell me where we're going, and what we're doing."

"There's a woman in the Tower by the name of Myane Colarra," said Telis. "It's her I mean to bring you to. Myane is a prophet--a rare skill, one no Chain has particular proclivity for and which few individuals have ever approached mastery of. It was her that saw the vision of a child with two eyes unalike, a child who would become strong in the power of the stars, whose rise would save the world from sundering. A child born to blood both royal and mighty. It was not until much later, in a forgotten archive deep below the Arctran Mountains, that the ancient prophecy was found, on scrolls stiffened and brittled by age--and by that time, it served only as confirmation of Myane's visions, and the things we already knew."

Meriel brushed a strand of hair out of her face, lost in thought. "But how does that involve me?"

"Why, you are the child. Chimeras are a rare thing, and chimeras born to royal lines rarer still." Telis smiled. "I was only an apprentice myself, at the time, but I was linked on the Chain to Meia Anjol. She was a woman with that uncanny ability to befriend anyone she met, and came from minor nobility to boot; she had connections and she used them. Whenever word reached us of a royal woman who was with child, Meia arranged for a Magus to be sent to their side. To assist during the pregnancy, officially. And to see if the right child was born. Oh, but she dissented from the mainstream thought. Many in the Tower believed that 'royal' and 'mighty' referred to the same bloodline--perhaps to the House of Araphane, whose conquests grew Salveir Tosal to its present size. Some even took younger daughters of royal houses to the Tower, to one day become Magi themselves and foster closer relations. All in service to a belief born from misinterpreted prophecy. Not Meia. She thought that Myane Colarra's vision referred to a union of two bloodlines."

"One that was royal, and one that was mighty?" Meriel nodded. "I can see how that would make sense."

"In the year six hundred and sixty-seven of the Beryllate--the year before you were born--there was a great tournament in Tarhanen, held to celebrate Princess Jelestal coming into her majority. Nobles and knights from every kingdom in the Grasp came to try their hand at a joust, and some from beyond the Grasp too. A retinue from Medelmar, a half-dozen cavalers from Daltuli across the sea, even a few hopefuls who lived in the deserts south of Dael. Meia and I were there, naturally. When Randast the prince of Caranán triumphed, all eyes should have been on him--not least Princess Jelestal, in whose name the tournament was fought and to whom therefore befell the duty to hand out Randast's prize. Jelestal gave him only the barest looks. Her eyes were drawn to another: Faldon Cardrey, heir to Darrhalys. Meia put her hand on my arm then and she told me that love would blossom between the two. She was right. Within the month, Lord Cardrey had renounced his claim to Darrhalys and was engaged to marry the princess."

"But why? Why give up his seat?"

"For love," said Telis. "And for the share of a kingdom. It wasn't a month after that when Princess Jelestal fell pregnant. With you. With Meia's blessing, I came to Tarhanen, to serve as the new couple's Magi advisor and one of Jelestal's ladies in waiting. On the day you were born, I was there with the Princess, as she lay in labour. When I saw you, I knew Meia had the right of it. There you were, pink and squalling, one eye blue and the other like fire: a chimera, in the House of Egéna. You'd been born already dead, I told her, and I carried you away. Far from Dael, far from anywhere people might recognise you for who you were."

"You stole me away?" Meriel felt sick to the stomach, and no part of that was down to the bitter soup Telis had made her eat.

"I did what I had to do," said Telis. "Elsewise you would have been killed. There was no option."

"No." Meriel shook her head. "You told a woman her child was dead. You let her think you were a friend, then you betrayed her and left her to grieve for the girl that you had carried away."

"I don't think you understand--"

"I understand." Meriel was shouting now; were Faradwel not a dead city, she'd have roused the neighbours. As it was her voice only echoed against silent stones. "It doesn't matter what happens in other people's lives, not to a Magus. Was it ever about prophecy? Or was it about robbing a woman of her daughter, just to show that you could--that not even a Princess is above the Magi?"

Telis met her shouts with a raised voice of her own. "Don't dare to presume you know how the world works. Whatever your blood, you're an ignorant girl from a backwater village. Do you think I had you wear a blindfold for the laugh? Jelestal Egéna is no different to any other queen-to-be. Had she seen your eyes, she'd have seen you die for it." She shook her head. "A letter was sent to her from the Tower, after she'd come into her throne. Call it an apology. An explanation of what had to be done."

"And that makes it all okay?"

Telis shook her head, after a second. "No," she said, softly. "But it makes it honest."

"Honest." Meriel spat the word out. It tasted as bitter as the soup. "Some comfort that is. It's a balm for your conscience, but nothing for her loss. And what of me? Where was my honesty?"

"It's here," said Telis. "Right now. This is me, telling you what happened. Every bit of it."

"Too late. All my life I've wished for a mother, thinking the whole time that she was dead. All along, you knew she wasn't."

"If you'd known, you'd have wanted to go to her."

"I would have," Meriel nodded. "And what's wrong with that? What's wrong with a girl wanting to see her mother?"

"You would have died," Telis told her. "Had you reached Tarhanen--and had the guards there deigned to bring you before Queen Jelestal, rather than sending you away--you'd have been nothing more than a complication. The world doesn't stay still while you're gone. It moves on. Faldon Cardrey died at the Threepoint Fort, proving a point to the Endael people with some fool stunt. Jelestal married again, and has three children by a Tarhanen lordling. Benifold Egéna will become king when his mother dies, and there are families in Dael who have great sums of money riding on that. Any one of them might have put a knife in your back."

"They'd do that? Have a princess murdered?"

Telis looked at her. "If that surprises you, you've spent too long in that village. Powerful people die all the time, when those with ambition see them as a threat. And those same eyes that persuaded me to take you in the first place would serve only to ensure that there would be a precious few to take your side."

Meriel was silent for a while then, and Telis joined her in the silence. The two women sat across from one another in the creeping darkness, the dead cobbles of Faradwel echoing their breathing; night brought with it a chill, but that had nothing to do with the coldness Meriel suddenly felt. "I don't want this," she said, eventually. "I don't want to be a hero, or a princess. What happened today... the thing that attacked us... I can't deal with that. I can't hide my eyes every time I go too close to a city. All I want, all I ever wanted, is to go home."

"I'd not stop you from going," Telis told her, and her expression began to thaw. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to. But to where? The Village? That's no more your home than anywhere else. It's just a place you grew up. To Tarhanen? You're not wanted there. Queen Jelestal's known the truth for ten years. All along, she's known you were in my care, and in ten years she's never tried to find you. Does that sound like the behaviour of a loving mother? You've nothing, child, except for me."

Meriel turned away from Telis. There was a window nearby, exposing the tower to the rest of Faradwel, and she gazed out of it. Distantly, the sun was just fading away behind the buildings, the last of its light receding. She could go. She could walk, as far as she could away from Telis. But she wouldn't find home. Not home the way she wanted it to be, the way she deserved. Somewhere out there, beyond the shadows of Faradwel, were Cad and Helicent. Alive. They had to be alive.

But if they weren't...

Telis was right. That was the worst part of it. No matter what she'd done, how things might have gone differently, the past was etched in firm stone. Meriel did not belong in the Village. She never had, if she was honest with herself. But she did not belong in Dael either. She had no place to go, and nobody in whom to put her trust. Nobody apart from Telis.

They slept in uneasy peace. Neither said a word, for there was nothing that needed saying now tonight. Come the morning, Meriel would be rested, and the pain in her leg would be lesser. The two of them would leave Faradwel behind, bound for the Octal Tower. For a future Meriel was no longer sure she wanted.

The only future she had.

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