The elder returned then. He was slender and scarcely reached to Dally’s shoulder, which made the new wand look overlong in his small hands. He bowed as he handed it back to Ainya, who offered it to Dally as she might a royal gift. Ainya said, “My lady.”
Dally disliked that title more each time she heard it. She did not know who she was, but a lady of the court most certainly did not figure into her character. But she merely took the wand and said softly, “It’s beautiful.”
The wood was so golden it glowed in the afternoon light. The gem was cradled within tiny strands carved like the staff, slender letters that flowed like the river down below where they stood.
Ainya said, “This is fashioned from the heart of our queen’s tree. The tree was planted at the start of our reign and will form the pyre upon which I end my time in the Elven realm. It is intended to signify the impermanence of all things.”
Dally resisted the urge to weep. “You are very kind to me, Majesty.”
“May it serve you well,” Ainya replied. “And us.”
“Come with me, Dally.” Edlyn led her up to a broad, flat rock at the center of the headland. “This is where the image showed you that the power flowed?”
“Right beneath us,” Dally confirmed.
“All right. I want you to try to follow my lead.” Edlyn unfastened the cover to her pouch and withdrew her own wand. “This is a spell that not even all senior wizards can accomplish, so you mustn’t worry if it’s beyond you. Now take your wand in your right hand and close your eyes. Reach down with your senses. Beneath the rocks and earth where you stand is a river. You may not actually discern this. Very few can. It does not matter. What is important is that you forge a link within yourself, then bond with the heartstone. After that, try to draw the river up through yourself, into the stone. When you have done this, repeat this spell.”
Even before Edlyn spoke the words, Dally felt herself filled with the sense of having already learned the words. As though the spell had formed a half-hidden portion of one of her impressions. The surging river of power was precisely where she had envisioned. The connection between herself and the force was immediate. Drawing it up was as natural as taking a breath, which she did. Through her feet, up her legs and her body, out her arm, down the length of the staff. When it touched the jewel at the wand’s end, she shouted the words. It was not possible to simply speak them as Edlyn had instructed. The power did not permit her to be quiet or soft-spoken. She cried them with a force that shook the rocks beneath her feet, or so it felt to her.
Then it was over. Only this time, Dally felt no crushing sense of confusion or mental disorder. Instead, the bond with her wand was such that the power seemed to reflect back into her being. Her bones vibrated, almost like they sang a song she had yearned to hear since childhood.
She opened her eyes to find that Edlyn and Ainya and the elder had been joined by Myron and Shona’s mages and a contingent of Elves. And all of them, each and every one, gaped at her.
Dally understood why, but not how. The gemstone at the wand’s tip burned with a light that flowed from one color to the next, green then gold then blue then clearest white. And with each shift, Dally’s vision underwent a change as well, for the light surrounded her. It seemed as though she saw the world through constantly shifting veils.
Myron asked, “Have you ever seen anything such as this?”
“Not once, not ever,” Edlyn replied. “Majesty?”
Ainya shook her head. “What do you suppose it means?”