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When they woke they breakfasted in Cammas, then followed the loway back to the bottom of the world. Gammit and the Nightfish were moored in the same spot they had left them in on their outward voyage, this time by a short cable to the underside of the stone. Ferris looked up at the bare rock, half-expecting to find Redburr hanging by his claws from some narrow crevice overhead. Though she tried to hide her disappointment, Avender noticed her worried frown when she saw the Shaper wasn’t there. He wished he could think of something to say to make her feel better. At least she still had hope.
Gammit glared at them when they arrived. “Back again, I see. Well, the sooner you get aboard, the sooner I’ll get back to important work. Come on.”
One by one they clambered onto the airship. Nolo introduced Reiffen, and Gammit gave him a look that suggested they had all gone to a great deal of trouble for very little return. When everyone was crowded onto the deck, Rolk untied the cable from the mooring and jumped on board beside them.
Slowly the ship settled downward, away from the great stone roof. Gammit muttered something about extra weight: Rolk tossed several bags of rock overboard. The Nightfish bobbed back toward the ceiling, but not before they had dropped far enough to see a large lamp shining brightly around the corner of an outcrop in the stone above.
“That’s a good idea,” said Ferris, shading her eyes as she looked around the ship. “Where’s Grimble?”
“Back in the workshop.” Gammit frowned as he coiled the cable and stowed it below the hull. “Some Bryddin have all the luck.”
Other lamps shone overhead as they left Cammas and flew on through the empty night. Each light stood out like a sentinel star against the darkness, the next emerging just as the last disappeared astern.
Nothing else about the trip was new. The Dwarves spent most of the journey tinkering with the ship, which left the children to themselves. They passed the time in napping and talking as the darkness slid by. Ferris did most of the talking, though Avender did his best to help. Reiffen still had little to say, though he did brighten noticeably when Nolo took him for a tour below decks. The boy’s interest pleased Gammit, who went on to show him everything from the gearing in the stern to the blazing lamp in the bow. “He might not be strong enough to work the crank,” declared the Dwarf, “but at least he knows the difference between a sprocket and a spanner. There may be some hope for you Abbeninni after all.”
At length one of the lamps overhead grew brighter as they approached, instead of fading back into the darkness behind them. Reiffen looked on in awe as he gazed at Issinlough for the first time. The thin curtains of the Veils shimmered in the light of the lamps; the unnerets and gossamer paths gleamed like spider silk.
Beside him, Ferris softly repeated the words Nolo had sung when they first came to the city many weeks before.
“Falling waters break the night;
Silver’s shine slips into sight.
In the darkness, deep below,
Lies the light of Issinlough.”
“You’re right,” Reiffen answered. “It is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Willing hands were there to help them guide the Nightfish back into its berth when they arrived at Grimble’s workshop, but none of their old friends had come to greet them. Grimble was distracted with other projects, and Dwvon and Uhle were busy in Vonn Kurr. The company made their goodbyes to Gammit and Rolk, then followed Nolo wearily through the maze of passages back to the city and the Rupiniah. But even the beauty of Issinlough wasn’t enough to make up for losing Redburr. Dwvon’s barren unneret echoed their mood; the empty halls and passages thudded dully beneath the sad tramp of their booted feet. Even the lovely smell of Mother Norra’s kitchen, spreading thick through the upside-down tower like the leaves of a hidden tree, left the children cold.
“Beans and bacon!” she exclaimed when she saw them. “And to think how worried I was I might never see you youngsters again! So this is Reiffen! He looks like he could use a peck or two of stew! And you could all of you use a good washing. Those clothes look like they haven’t been changed in weeks!”
She rushed across the room to envelop Ferris and Avender in a white-aproned hug. For a moment they caught a glimpse of a large man seated at the table with his back to them, but they didn’t see him again until the happy cook had set them free. The sound of a large slurp filled the kitchen as the other guest finished his soup; with a rattle of spoon on stone, he dropped his arm back and turned around.
“Redburr!”
Ferris rushed forward, in time with her leaping heart. Avender and Reiffen weren’t far behind. The Shaper, smelling of soup and beer, wrapped all three of them in his enormous arms. For a long moment his three friends were children again, everything that had happened to them since leaving Valing forgotten.
“What took you so long?” he asked, leaning back for a view of something more than the tops of their heads.
“Us!” Ferris looked up, tears shining in her eyes. “We’re not the ones who disappeared! Where have you been?”
“I had to come back the long way.” Despite himself, the Shaper beamed. “While the rest of you were lolling around on that flying sack Gammit calls an airship, I was winging across the surface as hard as I could on my weak little wings.”
Nolo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as the children disentangled themselves from Redburr’s arms. “Did Gammit know you were here? I’ll cook him in my own furnace if he did.”
“None of that now, Mr. Nolo.” Mother Norra fluttered forward, waving her apron with her hands. “Mr. Redburr didn’t arrive until after Mr. Gammit left. And he only just got up. He’s been having a nice, long nap since he flew in. A fat pigeon, he was. Scared me half to death when he landed on my window there and started to talk. I had to climb half the stairs in Issinlough to find clothes big enough for him when he woke.”
Nolo relented with a wide smile and banged the Shaper happily on the shoulder. Redburr winced at the blow. “Careful,” he warned. “Or I’ll leave again and let you deal with these three all the rest of the way home.”
Nolo’s smile only broadened, his face opening wide as fresh-plowed earth.
Reiffen stepped forward and bowed, his face as solemn as stone. “I have not yet thanked you, sir, for saving me. You risked grave danger for my sake. We all thought you dead. My debt can never—”
“That’s enough, boy.” Redburr waved Reiffen’s thanks away. “I had to come get you, or never hear the end of it from your mother. As for my getting away, let’s just say I had to find a different exit.”
“What about the mander?” asked Avender, remembering too vividly the fight in the guardroom.
Redburr shrugged. “I don’t know what happened to the mander. While I was chasing it I ran into a company of sissit instead. Unfortunate for them, but fortunate for me. When we were finished, my head finally cleared. The whole fortress was after me and I had no idea where I was. So I did a couple more shifts, and led everyone a merry chase up and down Ussene until I finally found my way to the roof and flew away.”
“What about those flying creatures you met before?” asked Ferris. “The ones who chased you last spring.”
“I suppose they were all out combing the mountains for you. I never saw them.”
“No, I don’t suppose you did.” Nolo studied the Shaper thoughtfully. “And I guess our easy escape had nothing to do with everyone chasing you instead of us.”
Redburr threw up his large hands. “Never occurred to me.”
The children’s mood was completely changed by the time Mother Norra led them upstairs for a wash before dinner. With Redburr returned, their triumph was complete. Avender forgot about Durk for a while and even Reiffen looked happy. The water clattered merrily as the baths filled. Thick steam dampened the stone walls. They laughed and sang in their tubs, Ferris and the boys calling back and forth to one another through the open windows of their rooms. Their voices raced across the darkness like larks above a summer meadow.
“Crash and boom!
Thump and roar!
The falls ahead will crab your oar!
But we can race away to shore
With sails that bring us home once more!”
“How’s that?” Mother Norra asked after Ferris had told her she and Avender had lost their spare clothing. “Rotted away in a burning lake! Only in the Stoneways, I suppose. But never you mind. I’ve got some things of Mr. Dwvon’s I can take in for you. Mustard and mutton, I’ve half a mind to burn what you’ve been wearing all this time!”
When they came back down to the kitchen they stuffed themselves to bursting on another of Mother Norra’s famous stews. But they had slept so much on the Nightfish that, even with their bellies full, no one was tired when they were done. So Nolo led them down to the bottom of Dwvon’s unneret, where the lowest chamber had a floor of clear glass. One could stand in the center of the room and look into the Abyss below, deepening darkness the only thing visible beneath one’s shoes. Mullioned windows circled the room; a stone bench ran below. On one side the windows looked out onto the silver dish of the Bryddsmet. On the other, four of the Veils sparkled and wove like rainwater dripping from the eaves of far-off houses.
“It looks a lot like the Tear,” said Ferris. “Except for the floor.” She slid one foot carefully forward just to make sure there was no sudden end to the glass.
“Actually, it’s the Tear that looks like this,” answered Nolo. He seated himself on the bench beside the door with a contented sigh. “We call it the Bryddis B’wee. Sometimes we come here to look for Brydds’ return.”
Reiffen stood in the middle of the floor, staring down at the emptiness beneath his feet, but Avender and Ferris preferred to sit near Nolo. Redburr crossed unconcernedly to the other side of the room, where he flopped down on the bench and pulled from his pocket a jar of jellied minnows he had snuck out of Mother Norra’s cupboard. “Now then, boy,” he said to Reiffen as he opened the lid and drew out the first of the small fish, “there are some things we have to discuss. I’ve been talking to Nolo, and we need to make a few decisions before we go back to Valing. First off, what do you think those things are Usseis put on your fingers?”
Reiffen shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said.
“Have you tried to take them off?”
“I’ve tried. But I can’t.”
He took a deep breath, then grasped the thimble on his left hand firmly with the fingers of his right. He grimaced for a moment, partly from effort and partly from pain. When he stopped, his face was flushed and red.
“Maybe I should try,” said Nolo.
Redburr gulped down another fish and shook his head. “You’re too strong. You might pull the finger off entirely. I think I’d better be the one to try.”
He put down his jar and crossed the glass floor to the boy. Reiffen offered him his hands. Gently the Shaper took the left in both his own, and examined thimble and finger. He twisted them this way and that, and even bent over to sniff at the cold metal. When he was satisfied there was nothing more to learn, he stiffened his grip and tried to pull the thimble off. Reiffen clenched his other hand until the knuckles went white, but said no word. Redburr changed his grip and tried again. Once more nothing happened.
“That’s not coming off,” he said as he stepped away. Reiffen tried to massage the feeling back into his hand. “Not unless we cut off the finger.”
“You can’t do that!” cried Ferris.
“We might have to, girl.” Redburr retrieved his jar from the bench and sat back down. “It’s definitely magic. And we have no idea what it’s for.” He pulled another fish from the jar and swallowed it down.
“They were just torturing him,” said Ferris. “That’s all it is. Reiffen said so himself.”
The Shaper wiped his greasy fingers on his beard. “The Three have no need for torture,” he said. “It’s an uncommon person whose will won’t bend to theirs at the first try. No, I’m inclined to believe there’s a purpose to what’s on the boy’s fingers.”
Reiffen said nothing. He continued to stare down through the floor into the Abyss, but his thoughts were far away to the north, in an enormous room with a stone table and a beam of false moonlight.
“But what can a pair of thimbles do?” asked Ferris.
“Maybe they keep him in the Wizards’ power while he’s so far away,” suggested Nolo.
“We don’t have any idea what they do,” said the Shaper. “And it’s no use trying to guess. It’s not like we have any great experience with magic.”
“Do you think you’re different?” asked Avender suddenly of his friend.
Reiffen considered the question. “Well,” he replied after a moment, “I’m not the same. You wouldn’t be either, if you’d spent as much time as I did in that place. But I don’t feel like anyone’s controlling me, if that’s what you mean. I don’t feel like they’ve done anything to me. But I guess Usseis could have done just about anything he wanted and I probably wouldn’t even remember.”
“I think they put those things on you just to make us suspicious,” said Ferris. She looked about at her companions one by one, almost challenging anyone to disagree with her. “We know how much they like to make us fight among ourselves.”
“That’s true.” Redburr lifted his nearly empty jar and tilted it forward to see what was left inside. A few gobs of jelly spilled onto his beard. After eating those, he cleaned out the inside of the glass with his finger, smacked his lips, and went on. “All the same, you and Avender need to remember why I brought you along. You need to keep an eye on Reiffen. If he does anything strange, you let me know right away.”
Reiffen lifted his eyes from the floor. “What do you think I might do?” he asked, looking at the Shaper.
Redburr combed the last of the jelly from his beard, then licked his fingers clean. “It’s hard to say, boy. For all we know Usseis wanted us to rescue you. Then, if you ever challenge your uncle for the throne, it will look like the Wizards had nothing to do with it. We, on the other hand, will never know the real truth one way or the other. But if those thimbles really do anything to you, it’s most likely to be some sort of control. What Usseis likes best is to bend things to his own will. He’s never happy unless he’s twisting something to his own purpose. We’ll just have to keep our eyes and noses open for anything suspicious. After all, it’s just as likely we really did rescue you, and those caps on your fingers don’t do anything at all.”
“But you don’t really think that, do you.”
“No, boy. I don’t.”
Reiffen and Redburr regarded one another steadily, as if there was no one else with them in the B’wee. Behind the Shaper the lights of the city gleamed like colored lanterns on a summer night. On the boy’s side of the room there was only dark. He looked very much alone. If Redburr was right, then Reiffen’s would be the real burden. Others might watch for some sign he was no longer himself, but, if their worst fears proved true, they would still be the same in the end. Only Reiffen would be lost.
“I still think cutting off his fingers is the best idea,” said Nolo. This time Ferris leaned over and swatted him angrily on the arm. Redburr chuckled as she wrung her stinging hand, and even Reiffen had to smile.
“Well, it is a horrible idea,” said Ferris.
“Yes, it is,” agreed the Shaper, still smiling. “Which is why I think we should let him keep his thimbles for the time being. And his fingers. Until we’re sure what those caps are for, it’d be dangerous to fool with them. For all we know, cutting them off might even kill the boy.” He turned to Reiffen and his tone turned more serious. “But if you show any sign at all of not being yourself, then we’ll have to take more drastic action. For our sake, as well as yours.”
So it was that Ferris and Avender spent the rest of the journey closely watching their friend. If he minded their scrutiny, he never gave a sign. And though they never thought for a moment that he was under the influence of any spell or glamour, they were also certain he wasn’t the same old Reiffen either. He had said so himself. His mood was too often darker and more distant than it had been, and frequently he seemed to be looking at things no one else could see. Rarely did he speak unless Ferris or Avender spoke first, which meant that Ferris had to work especially hard to keep any conversation going among the three of them. But at the same time, he was still definitely Reiffen. Avender couldn’t explain why they thought so, but Ferris could. “It’s his eyes,” she told Redburr when he asked. “Those are Reiffen’s eyes. I’m sure there’s no one else inside.”
The next day, after another filling breakfast, Ferris argued with Mother Norra about whether their filthy clothes should be burned or washed.
“I’m not going back outside with nothing to wear but cut-down Dwarf breeches! I need my own clothes.”
“But think of where they’ve been, dearie! Better to burn them, than carry around even the smallest pinch of that nasty magic!”
“I already told you, we never saw the Wizards!”
“Yes, but you were in their halls! There’s spells in the dust and dirt, I’m sure!”
“I want my clothes!”
It was some time before Avender had put enough stone between him and the kitchen to lose the sound of their arguing. He was feeling sorry for himself again, and wanted to think of all the things he might have done to keep from losing Durk. For a while he wandered among the unneret’s empty rooms. When Redburr finally found him, he was leaning on the railing of one of the balconies, his eyes locked on the shimmer of the Veils.
“Nolo told me what happened to Durk,” said the Shaper as he came up beside the boy. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was.” Avender frowned stubbornly. “I was the one who asked him to come with us. He’d never have gone back to the fortress otherwise.”
“That was his choice, not yours, boy. You did what you thought best.”
“I was wrong.”
“No you weren’t. You offered Durk the best chance he was ever going to have of getting out of Ussene. He knew that. It’s why he came with us.”
“We made him come with us. He could’ve stayed behind with Nurren. That’s what he wanted to do.”
“I made him come with us, not you.” A hint of Redburr’s bearish growl lingered across the night. “Blame me if you want, boy, but don’t blame yourself.”
“You put me in charge.” Avender bit his lip and stared into the darkness so Redburr couldn’t see his eyes. “I was the one who lost him.”
The Shaper leaned on the rail beside him and stared at the dark as well. “Soldiers fall in battle all the time, boy. Don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. You didn’t suppose we were going to tangle with the Three and come away without a scratch, did you? We’ve been lucky enough as it is. I’m alive, and you have no idea how lucky that was. And Reiffen’s alive, and so’s Ferris. I hope you have wit enough to understand that. Don’t ever think you have to eat all the berries on the bush.”
Redburr straightened and turned his face from the darkness to the city. “Now come on. It’s time to go back to the others. Nolo wants to show you the Dinnach a Dwvon and Uhle’s Forge. And Ferris is in a hurry because she wants to get back in time to wash her clothes.”
Avender followed the Shaper back inside the upside-down tower. Behind them the Veils and the city gleamed. He knew Redburr was right, and the fact that even the Shaper forgave him was a great comfort. Still, deep in his heart, he wished he had been quick and smart enough to save the stone.
From Issinlough they were four hard days climbing the Sun Road. The last night they spent in the Axe and Ruby, where Redburr made them take dinner in their rooms. “The longer it takes for the Three to find us again, the better,” he confided between tankards. “In the meantime we’ll just be five travelers on our way to Valing.”
It was high summer when they came out from Uhle’s Gate into the daylight once again. The late afternoon sun had already fallen behind the round shoulders of Aloslomin. All of Grangore lay in early shadow below. But, high up on the slope of Ivismundra, the sun still shone warm upon their faces, and they had to shield their eyes from the brightness. Nothing the Bryddin could build would ever match the strength of the sun. Around them the trees swayed in the breeze; birds and squirrels scolded and sang among the branches. It was the wind the children had missed the most during their long weeks underground: the wind brushing against their faces and whistling past their ears. The wind and the rain and all the small sounds of woodpeckers and bullfrogs, crickets and crows. The Under Ground was a silent place, unless there were Dwarves at work close by.
“It’s funny.” Ferris took a deep breath of clear, fresh air. “I feel like I’m already home.”
“That’s because you are,” said the Shaper. “The Stoneways aren’t for humans, for all the lamps and gold.”
They spent one night with Huri and Nurr, then continued on to Upper Crossing. Angun had returned to Bryddlough, Huri told them, after deciding there was nothing worth his interest aboveground. From Upper Crossing they took the river route back to Mremmen, where they had no difficulty hiring another ship to take them north to Lugger. Nolo had brought a few lamps back with him from Bryddlough, enough to hire a royal barge.
Reiffen asked Redburr why they couldn’t go back through Malmoret and Rimwich, at which the Shaper cuffed him affectionately. “We go to all the trouble of rescuing you from the Wizards, and you want to risk your neck in your uncle’s court? Your mother would have my hide in front of her hearth if I even thought about taking you to Rimwich.” But Avender heard him tell Nolo afterward that he was glad to see Reiffen still thinking like a child. “It’s the boy that wants to see Malmoret,” he said. “Not Wizards. Maybe we’ve been lucky.”
Two weeks from Grangore the party rode over the top of the pass on horses purchased in Lugger and came home finally to Valing. The lake glistened before them; beyond rose the sharp peaks of the High Bavadars. To the north, the long plume of spray from the falls swirled like chimney smoke high into the cloud-dotted sky. Rainbows crossed the cliffs. Last spring’s lambs, now nearly as large as their mothers, looked up from the meadows as the travelers rode by, and the orchards past Easting were thick with half-sized fruit. The smell of fresh mown hay filled the air.
No one noticed them until they had almost reached the Manor. Then a pair of woodcutters spotted the travelers as they rode out of Goston’s Wood toward the Neck. “Why, tick me if it isn’t Nolo and Redburr come home,” said one.
“Who’s that with ‘em?” asked the other. “The first two’s Ferris and Avender, but I don’t recognize the third.”
They tossed their caps in the air and gave a cheer when Ferris told them it was Reiffen. Then nothing would do but the travelers had to stop and shake hands all around. The woodcutters wanted them to dismount and tell their tale right there, but Redburr pointed out they were hoping to see some supper before nightfall, and that someone was no doubt waiting for the loads of wood the woodsmen had dropped by the side of the road. So the woodcutters hurried them on with loud cheers that had everyone rushing out from the nearer farms to see what was up. It wasn’t long before the party had picked up a train of children and dogs willing to risk missing supper for the greater fun of accompanying Reiffen on the last short leg of his journey home.
They were quite the small crowd by the time they crossed the Pinch to the front gate of the Manor. Dennol Longbay had already come halfway out from the gatehouse to see what was causing all the uproar. When he recognized Nolo and Redburr riding at the front of the little party, he relaxed and leaned easily on his pike.
“What’s all this noise you’ve brought with you, Redburr?” he asked, grabbing the bridle of the Shaper’s horse and winking at the children behind him.
“We’ve brought back the boy.”
“The boy? And what boy might—! You mean you’ve got Reiffen?” Dennol took another look at the three children in the rear. “I see Ferris and Avender, but I don’t—”
Then they all realized how much Reiffen had changed if an old friend like Dennol didn’t recognize him as soon as he saw him. A closer inspection, however, caused the forester’s jaw to drop in surprise. He shook his spear and grinned fiercely. A smile lit his face just like those on the leaping children, and he danced a little jig of his own.
“Welcome home, boy!” he crowed. “Welcome home!”
“Yes, it is welcome, isn’t it,” said Reiffen. He seemed suddenly older, as if he had been gone for long years instead of months, and sadder, too. A quiet smile ghosted across his face as they passed through the gate and back into the old, familiar courtyard. The high gables and side porches of the big house threw long shadows across the dusty ground.
Gleeful children surged into the yard around them. Stable boys raced from the barns to see what all the commotion was about, and kitchen maids gathered at the scullery door. “It’s Reiffen! It’s Reiffen!” came the cry, and the news sped quickly back through the halls of the Manor. An argument broke out between the stable boys and some of the older children over who had the better right to hold the travelers’ horses while they dismounted, which opened the way for Atty Peeks and his friends to do the job instead.
Reiffen was just sliding off his horse when Berrel and Hern came wondering out onto the front porch to stare in astonishment at the returning travelers. Nolo had only taken Ferris and Avender with him to visit Issinlough, yet here he was returning with Reiffen and Redburr as well. There had never been any talk of rescue from that direction. Clearly a great deal of explaining needed to be done, none of which was anywhere near as important as the joy at seeing Reiffen safely home. The Stewards hurried down the steps and into the courtyard, great smiles beaming on their faces. Everyone tried to talk at once and no one understood a word. Dogs chased one another through the dirt. The courtyard rang with barking and cheers.
Then all fell silent. The dry summer dust spun in the evening light. Giserre had appeared on the front step of the Manor. She waited for her son to see her, knowing he would find her on the porch long before she found him in the swirling crowd. In a moment he had pushed across the yard and was kneeling on the step before her. She looked down upon his face, tears glittering in her eyes. Then she held out her hand and drew Reiffen up onto the step beside her. Together they looked out upon their friends standing quietly in the courtyard.
“My son is returned.” Giserre spoke simply, but in such a voice that everyone could hear. “Great is our debt to you all.”
Her face shone with gladness. Looking away from the crowd, she offered her son her arm. Together they went back inside. Another great cheer followed them, and all the dogs joined in once more.
There were many tales to be told and explanations to be made, but for the moment Redburr and the rest of the company were happy just to follow Hern to the kitchen. She sent Tinnet off to the Tear with a tray filled with Reiffen’s favorite food, then turned her attention to the rest of them. By the time they had eaten their fill of fresh bread and pickled graylings most of the story had already been told. Hern was especially unhappy when she learned the details of how she had been deceived. She half-threatened to banish the Shaper from Valing forever for his part in the plot, but everyone knew she didn’t mean it, especially after she had Atty bring out a fresh jar of honey while still in the middle of her scold. Then Dennol, who had forgotten to return to his post, asked to hear about the Nightfish again; and of course the tale took twice as long in the second telling and had grown to include a description of how it had been the ghost of Brydds who woke Redburr before he fell too far to ever fly back up to Bryddlough. Berrel puffed his pipe and nodded along, and even Hern’s eyes shone as Ferris described the Seven Veils, and Issinlough gleaming like a jewel in the night.
It was late in the long summer evening before anyone saw Reiffen and Giserre again. Anella came to bid Ferris and Avender to the Tear, and the children followed her back along the path at the top of the high cliff, past the orchard to the stone stair that descended to the gorge. A soft wind whistled through the windows of the passage; the roar of the falls increased as they approached the Tear. There wasn’t much mist, though the noise was tremendous. The lake was low and the water at its summer ebb as it burst through the notch in boiling white sheets, and plumes and gouts of spray. Above the rush and roar, the Tear hung half-hidden amid the wisps of whirling cloud.
Inside, Giserre and Reiffen stood together beside the fire. Wood smoke curled up to the chimney in the roof. Even at the height of summer there was always a fire in that room, to thin the damp of the constant cloud.
“Welcome, my heroes,” said Giserre. She glided up the steps to greet them. Anella slipped silently to a place at the side of the room. Giserre held out a hand to each of her guests as she led them to seats by the fire. “I have been thoughtless in not thanking you before,” she said graciously, “but I know you understand how precious the hours have been since you brought me back my son.”
“We’re not heroes,” said Avender. “Redburr and Nolo did all the work.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Ferris.
Giserre laughed, a beautiful, musical laugh that made them all as happy as she. She had never seemed more content. “Ferris,” she said, “I fear sometimes your ambition appears to surpass even mine. But yes, in this you are right. Avender speaks with false modesty. You are heroes. You have succeeded where many others failed.”
“Redburr and Nolo did most of it,” Avender insisted. “And Delven and Dale, and the other Dwarves. We hardly did anything at all.”
“You risked your lives for your friend,” said Giserre. “That is more than enough for heroes.” She sat down beside Reiffen on the cushioned bench near the fire and took his hand in hers.
Reiffen echoed his mother’s feeling. “I owe you my life,” he said. “I shall never be able to repay you.”
“You’d do the same for us,” said Ferris.
“I thank you for the compliment.” Reiffen dipped his head in a little bow. He spoke in the formal manner his mother had taught him, far different from any other way of speaking he had ever learned in Valing. “Let us hope the opportunity shall never arise.”
“There’s not much chance we’ll ever be that lucky,” said Avender.
“No,” agreed Reiffen. “It is unlikely. Not while the Wizards live still.”
Ferris turned to Giserre. “What about you, milady?” she asked, picking up the thread of Reiffen’s formality. “Will you tell us what happened when you went to Malmoret?”
Giserre smiled at the girl and the whole room brightened. “Luckily, I never came to Malmoret,” she said. “Had I, I might not have returned quickly enough to be in Valing for your homecoming. I met Brannis in Rimwichside, and though he pretended sympathy for my tale, he refused to allow me passage to Banking. He feigned I was his guest and would not hear of my departing, at least not so long as I intended to cross to the southern side of the river. ‘Yours is not the only loss,’ he said, preaching false wisdom. ‘There are other mothers whose children have been taken by the Three. Some day the Wizards’ grasp will stretch farther than their strength, and then they shall feel the thrust of Wayland and Banking vengeance.’ Then, as if mere words might be enough to satisfy me, he turned away to feed his dogs.”
“Mother was going to find some way to go on to Malmoret anyway,” said Reiffen. “But Prince Gerrit came to her in Rimwich instead.”
“I have not seen my brother in many years.” Giserre looked into the fire as she spoke, her memory far away. “He came as soon as he received the news I was in Brannis’s court. Even so, he understood there was nothing to be done. To ride alone with a few others across the northern wastes would have achieved nothing. But we did not expect to raise an army in Rimwich, did we?” she added with a fresh smile, and the room brightened again with her cheer. “It was Redburr’s plan that was the right choice all along. My son is returned to me.”
“Am I?” he asked.
He gave them all a strange look. His eyes had widened until they were as deep and black as the Abyss, though he still stared intently at the fire. No light reflected from them, nor from the caps upon his fingers. Giserre looked upon him in alarm.
“We all know we cannot be certain nothing was done to me in Ussene,” he continued bitterly. “I must watch myself as carefully as you. Who knows what I might do?”
“You won’t do anything,” said Ferris fiercely. “It’ll be the Wizards, if something happens, not you. You haven’t changed.”
Reiffen shook his head. “You don’t know what it’s like,” he said, “not knowing who you really are. I’ve had to live with that all my life. I am the proper king of Wayland and Banking both; but I will never sit on either throne.”
Giserre stiffened. “You must never give up hope,” she cautioned. “You may yet gain what is rightfully yours.”
“It has already been mine for the taking once, mother,” Reiffen replied, coldness in his eyes. “Usseis offered it to me himself. Do you think I would ever accept it now, knowing that is precisely what he wants me to do?”
He stared hard at her, trying to make her understand. She pursed her lips and made no reply, but the happiness that had flushed her face began to fade.
“Maybe that’s why Redburr’s always telling you not to think about it,” suggested Avender. “Maybe he knew something like this was coming all the time. Usseis using you, I mean.”
“If not Usseis, then someone else.” Reiffen’s anger ebbed. Wearily, he leaned against the bench. “There’s always a pretender to the throne in every history I’ve ever read.” He raised his hands to the fire and spread his fingers wide, ignoring the iron caps.
“We’ll make sure you don’t do anything that isn’t right,” said Avender stoutly.
“We’ll even rescue you again, if we have to,” added Ferris.
Reiffen smiled, despite himself. “You would do that, wouldn’t you.”
But Giserre, who had never been rescued from her own misfortune, turned toward the windows beyond the fire. She had seen her son’s determination, so opposite her own. The steady rain from the mist outside traced thin fingers along the glass. Sensing her sorrow, Ferris and Avender left mother and son alone once again.
“I knew he’d never be king,” said Ferris, as they climbed with Anella back up beside the gorge. “He always knew better, except when he was small.”
Avender made no reply. He wasn’t so sure. It had always been exciting to dream about riding at a king’s right hand, even if he and Reiffen had both stopped talking about it long ago. He supposed that was all over now. If Reiffen had really given the idea up, it was only right that he should, too.
Alone in his room that night, Avender went to the window and looked out across the lake. The bowl of the sky was filled with stars; the cloudless night ran free before the rising of the moon. He remembered the same stars set in the dark roof in the lough in Grangore, where the Dwarves had sung their song for Brydds. But these stars were different. These stars moved as the night swept round the world, and below them a soft wind brushed the mountains and the lake.
The curtains in the window touched his cheek. He remembered his first sight of Issinlough, when the world had seemed for a moment to turn upside down. He remembered the dark mouth above the hill of bones. He remembered Durk, the mander chasing them down the stair, and the Shaper’s gaping jaws, and knew he was lucky to be alive. There was nothing heroic about it. With a last shiver he crawled into bed; the sheets were soft and cool. For a moment, in the brief time between wakefulness and sleep, he remembered his mother beside him, kissing him on the forehead as she tucked him beneath the covers. It was good to be home, even if there were some things still missing. There was much that he and Reiffen had to do. The trip to Malmoret would still be planned, and the swords the Dwarves would fashion from the heartstone in the henges would need strong arms to wield them. He fell asleep with the stars still out and the wind whispering softly across the mountains from lake to sky.
At the other end of the Neck, Reiffen lay at his old place by the fire and listened to the rumble of the gorge and the murmur of his mother’s soft breathing. Try as he might, he couldn’t sleep. Once, the thunder in the flume would have soothed him as much as his mother’s voice, but neither had the power to comfort him now. The nightmare he had hoped to leave behind in Ussene had followed him all the way home.
He had been so relieved when he woke in his cell and found his friends standing over him. After all the misery and despair, he had thought he might really be rescued at last. Redburr was taking him home. Even when his black mood returned, and the memory of Usseis and Molio choked his sleep like ice on the Lake in winter, he had hoped it was just the Stoneways. Maybe when he reached the surface his nightmares would fade.
For a while the beauty of Issinlough, and Mother Norra’s homely cooking, had comforted him, but even those delights had lasted no longer than a day. Through each stage of the journey he had hoped the next would be different: the Vale of Grangore; the bustle of Mremmen; the bright, clear wind of the open sea. But each, in turn, had faded from delight. Each had washed him clean for only a short while. More and more he had come to pin his hopes on Valing, where his mother would brush his hair back from his face, and kiss him and tell him everything was all right. And she had.
But it hadn’t been enough. Now Reiffen knew it would never be enough. The Wizards had stolen his life as thoroughly as he had stolen Molio’s.
He would have to take it back.
Hope flashed through him at the thought. His eyes brightened; he stopped feeling sorry for himself. No longer wanting to even try to sleep, he tiptoed up the benches to the door. Softly he crept out to the narrow balcony that circled the Tear. The summer mist bathed his forehead; his bare feet gripped the wet rock without slipping. It was a wonderful feeling. Nothing so clean and fresh could ever be imagined in Ussene. Below him the water frothed and churned.
He wondered why he had never thought of this before. Perhaps he had to come home to understand. The fact he had finally made up his mind made him feel immeasurably better. He would fight the Wizards on their own terms. He would return to Ussene and learn everything Fornoch offered to teach him and then, when the time was right, serve the Wizards back for what they had done to him. He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what he planned to do; they would have to think the Wizards had truly turned him. Avender would hate him, Ferris would despise him, but either was better than the sad, watchful pity they showed him now. Their wonder at his sacrifice when he triumphed in the end would make it all worth while. Yes, the Wizards had turned him. What they didn’t know was that he planned to turn again.
The only question now was to find the quickest way back to Ussene. His thimbles clicked as he shifted his hands on the balcony railing. In an instant he remembered what Fornoch had told him about leaving part of himself behind. Perhaps there was a purpose to the thimbles after all.
He reached for the one on his left hand. Gently he tugged at the cold iron. The mist had made the surface slick, but the metal was rough enough that he could still get a good grip. Nothing happened. Frowning, he tried again more firmly. A second failure made him think, and then he recalled the Wizard adding a last command to his instructions. “‘All you must do is say the word,’” Fornoch had said.
What the word might be came to Reiffen almost as soon as he began to think about it. Fornoch wouldn’t want to tax him on this particular test. Not if he didn’t want Reiffen to change his mind.
There was no chance of that now. The word would be the same Ossdonc had spoken at the henge. Reiffen was sure of it. He took a deep breath and reached for his finger a third time.
“Reiffen? What are you doing out in the wet? Come in before you catch cold.”
Giserre stood in the doorway, one hand clutching her robe. The warmth inside the Tear swirled past the open door and out into the night. Reiffen took a step forward to see his mother’s face more clearly in the mist. Sharp sorrow rose within his chest as he remembered how terribly lonely he had been in Ussene.
He came to a sudden decision. “Mother,” he said. “Take my hand.”
With a smile Giserre reached for both of his with hers. His right remained curled around the little finger of his left. Drops of mist beaded like pearls in his mother’s hair.
“Return,” Reiffen whispered.
The thimble fell to the ground as he slipped it off his finger. The night winked clean away.
In the morning Avender woke to the warm sun peeping through the window and a pigeon cooing on the sill. He rushed into his clothes and down the stairs. There were so many things he and Ferris and Reiffen planned to do on their first day home.
Ferris was already in the kitchen with her mother. “I’ve been down to the Lower Dock,” she said excitedly. “Skimmer’s already been by. Old Mortin says he told him he’ll meet us at the Rock as soon as we get there.”
“I’ve packed a lunch.” Hern, her smile almost as wide as her daughter’s, patted the top of a basket bursting with bread and jam and muffins and pie. “Why don’t the two of you go rouse Reiffen while I make sure there’s nothing I’ve left out.”
Ferris and Avender raced through the scullery yard to the orchard. The pigs grunted as they passed. From the top of the Neck all Valing stretched south in ribbons of blue and green. At the top of the stair Ferris elbowed Avender aside with a laugh and darted on ahead. He finally caught her again at the second set of doors. She stood with her arms extended, holding the heavy oak panels apart, staring into the empty room.
“Where are they?”
A breath of mist tickled Avender’s ear. “Look,” he said. “The door to the balcony’s open. Maybe they’re out there.”
“What’s that on the ground?”
Avender looked down. Something small and dark wedged the door open against the jamb.
Ferris screamed.
Avender pounced on the thimble and pushed open the balcony door. The mist lifted its white fingers past the empty terrace toward the sky. Avender hardly dared look down. As quickly as he could on the slippery stone, he circled the outside of the Tear. The balcony was empty. He had almost convinced himself Reiffen and Giserre had made the circuit ahead of him by the time he reached the door at the other end, but, when he went back inside, Ferris was still alone.
She clutched her throat. Avender unfolded his hand. The iron thimble lay heavy and cold on his palm. It had to be one of Reiffen’s. But whether Reiffen had fallen to his death in the gorge, or been taken once more by the Wizards, there was no way to tell.
Avender didn’t know which possibility he dreaded more.