City of Jade

5

NEXUS

LATE AUTUMN TO EARLY WINTER, 5E1010

[THE FINAL YEAR OF THE FIFTH ERA]

Yet stepping and chanting the rite of the crossing, Bair and Valke emerged onto a nearly identical stone plateau to the one they had left on Neddra; but, unlike the brown-tinged air of that world, here the chill atmosphere was pellucid and bore the faint aroma of the clean-smelling pine forest drifting up from the vale below. Snow lay upon the crests all ’round and along the slants ’neath, the white winging scintillant glitter to the eye in the light of the bright sun above.

Valke sprang up toward the cerulean sky, while darkness enveloped Bair, from which Hunter sprang forth to run. Down the slope and across the vale he sped and toward a distant knoll, snow cascading in his wake, Valke above following, watching, warding. They were heading for a mountain cabin in which a Seer dwelled-Aravan’s beloved, Aylis.

And in and about that cottage an assembly had gathered, Magekind all, and they waited for a falcon and a Draega to appear. Some rested before their tents, while others ranged the slopes, and a foursome sat at an oak-wood table out beside the steep-roofed cottage. But all watched the skies for the appearance of a black raptor.

And as they did so, bearing a tray of steaming mugs, Aylis stepped out from the cabin. Reed slender she was, and dressed in brown leathers. Her light brown hair was cropped at the shoulders and seemed shot through with auburn glints in the bright sunlight warming the day. Her complexion was fair and clear, but for a meager sprinkle of freckles high on her cheeks, and her eyes were green and flecked with gold. She was tall for one of Magekind, the top of her head but a hand or so less than six feet. She bore the tray to the table.

Sitting at the board were Alamar and Dalor and Branwen, all of whom had been at the in-between crossing when Bair and Aravan had first come on Winterday a full year past, with Valke terribly wounded nigh unto death. Dalor the Healer had managed to keep the bird from dying, and Branwen the Animist had discovered how to change the unconscious falcon back into an Elf, after which Dalor had saved Aravan.

As Aylis began handing out the steaming mugs, “A Silver Wolf, a Draega, you say?” asked the fourth one sitting at the table-a somber-faced Mage. “The boy a shapeshifter?”

“Aravan, too, Sorcerer Cadir,” said Aylis, “though he does not come by it naturally, as does Bair.”

“‹Wild-magic› for one and a token of power for the other,” said Dalor, the short and portly Mage accepting a cup from Aylis.

“I don’t know why we have to wait for them,” said dark-haired Alamar, an irritated glint in his green eyes. “I mean, we are assembled and ready to strike, and so should just get on with it ourselves.”

“Father,” said Aylis, “Bair’s plan is well thought out.”

“She’s right,” said Branwen, stirring a dab of honey into the tea.

“Pah!” snapped Alamar. “Why, I alone can destroy that fort.” He gestured toward the Mages downslope. “Any one of a dozen of us could.”

“Ah, but what if it is teeming with Black Mages?” asked Dalor. “Then who would take on the Foul Folk while we do battle with our kind?”

“Black Mages are not our kind,” growled Alamar. “Besides, if it came to it, as I said before, we could simply destroy the fort.”

Aylis sighed and said, “Father, the mission is not to destroy the fort but to capture it intact.”

“I know that, daughter,” snapped Alamar. “I am merely saying we could . Nay, but even so, I think we need no Elven aid to capture that stronghold undamaged.” Then he grinned. “After all, I am to be commander when it’s in our hands.”

“Co-commander,” said Cadir, “or am I wrong about this captain of the Elves? Um. . what is his name again?”

“Captain Arandor, I believe,” said Branwen.

“Yes,” said Aylis. “Arandor has agreed to be co-commander of the Black Fortress.”

“Captain of the guard, you mean,” said Alamar.

“And co-commander, Father,” replied Aylis.

“Yes, yes, but you see-”

“Falcon!” came a cry, and both Dalor and Branwyn turned to see. High above and spiraling down the dark bird glided.

Although Aylis knew Valke’s sight was keen beyond reckoning and he could find her in any crowd, still she would separate herself from the others to make it a bit easier for him to espy her. And so, she rose up from the table and coolly walked to the doorstone of her cottage and stood upon it waiting, her heart leaping with joy.

“Draega!” called another voice, and bursting forth from the pine trees came a great Silver Wolf running, clots of snow flying in its wake.

But the bird reached the cottage first, and even as it landed a silvery light bloomed, out of which stepped Aravan, and he took Aylis in his arms and kissed her long and deep.

Some of the gathered Mages laughed, while others applauded, and Alamar snorted and said, “Canoodling.”

The Draega came loping to the doorstone, and from a blooming of darkness Bair emerged. And he stood waiting until at last Aravan and Aylis released each other. Then Bair hugged the Seer and kissed her on the cheek.

As Bair did so, Aravan’s deep blue gaze swept over the assembly, lighting at last on Alamar, who sat and sipped tea at the outdoor table, along with Dalor and Branwen and a Mage Aravan did not know. Nodding their way, the Elf turned to Bair and said, “Alamar sits yon.”

Smiling, Bair handed Aylis over to Aravan, and set off to speak with the Mage, the Elf and the Seer following after. When they reached the board, Bair paused a moment and surveyed the gathering along the slopes, then turned to Alamar and said, “It appears Magekind is ready.”

Alamar looked up at the sixteen-year-old whose plan they followed. “Of course it is, you young whippersnapper. After all, I am in charge.”

“Still crotchety, I see,” said Bair.

Dalor and Branwen whooped in joy, and Aylis giggled and Aravan grinned, though Cadir gasped in astonishment.

Alamar leapt to his feet. “Now look here, boy, just because you faced down a god-”

“Two gods, old man,” interjected Bair.

Alamar could keep up the pretense no longer, and he joined the others in laughter even as he embraced the lad.

Branwen, too, got up to hug Aravan and then Bair, while Dalor raised a hand of greeting. Alamar then introduced Cadir the Sorcerer, saying, “Should we need a conjoinment, Cadir will be our focus.”

Again Bair surveyed the assembly. “It looks to me as if there are but fifty or so of Magekind. Is this enough?”

“There are seven nines gathered here, my boy,” said Alamar, “and most assuredly that is enough.”

“And the kinds. .?” asked Bair.

Alamar gestured toward the gathering. “Each of the nines will have three of us to throw fire or blasts of light or to control the wind and other such; one Sorcerer to destroy various things; one Seer to look where none else can and to intercept the commands of the enemy; one who can bend light and sound to disguise or to frighten the foe out of its wits, assuming that Foul Folk have wits; two who can control any beasts they send against us-Helsteeds and the like, and perhaps even Trolls-they are mindless enough to be animal-like; a Healer for the obvious reasons; and one of the nines will include an Alchemist instead of an Animist.”

“Alchemist?” asked Bair.

“Well, lad, you never know what you might find in a black fortress, especially on Neddra,” replied Alamar.

“Well, then, let me meet with each of these nines, for I would express my gratitude that they have taken up the cause.”

“Lad,” said Alamar, “it is cause enough that you have found a way for us to travel the Planes.” The Mage gestured back toward the way Valke and Hunter had come. “And since passing through Neddra is the only way we can do so, ’tis meet that we control the nexus.”

“With our allies, the Elves, and whoever else might come,” said Aylis, hugging Aravan’s arm.

“Yes, yes, daughter,” snapped Alamar. “With our allies.”

“Speaking of the Elves,” said Cadir, “are they now on the march?”

Bair nodded. “Captain Arandor leads them. And in that company are Vanidar Silverleaf, Loric, Phais, Tillaron Ironstalker, Ancinda Soletree, Ellisan, Inarion, Gildor Goldbranch, his sire, Talarin. .”

Bair was yet naming Elf after Elf as he and Alamar and Cadir went down the slope to introduce the lad to the individual members of the seven nines.

Aravan turned to Aylis. “Would that I had thought to bring Drimma to the cause, for they are fighters nigh beyond compare, as thou hast seen on the Eroean .”

Aylis beamed up at Aravan and said, “Oh, Aravan, sailing with you on that ship, those were days of splendor.”

“Aye, they were, though they ended in tragedy, and I thought you gone forever.”

Aylis took his face in her hands and said, “Oh, my love, I am so sorry. Still, you cannot get rid of me that easily.”

“Get rid-? Never.” And now he kissed her long and tenderly, caring not who might be watching.

When they finally broke for air, Aylis said, “Even so, voyaging with you o’er the vast seas, I would do so again.”

“Fear not, love, for the vessel is in good hands and awaits us at Arbalin Isle.”

“Is it yet Long Tom who cares for her? You spoke of him when last spring you were here.”

“The very same, Chier, and thou wilt meet him anon, for I would have thee in my cabin again and sailing the oceans of all Mithgar after this business is done.”

Dalor cleared his throat. “Speaking of business, Aravan, is the plan yet the same?”

“Aye, Healer,” replied the Elf. “Mages and Elves cross over at the mark of midnight on Winterday two days hence.”

“And the number of Elves in the assault?”

“At least fifty tens, all told, just as intended, though since others have discovered our aim, I believe that number might grow. From the High Plane they come, for, because of the Sundering, it has been long since any on Adonar took part in a battle against the Spaunen , and they would do more than their share. Yet Elves who have dwelt on Mithgar would not be denied, and they have crossed from the Mid to the High World to join the ranks as well.”

“Good,” said Dalor.

Branwen then looked at Aravan and said, “So you would have Dwarves in this fight?”

Aravan nodded. “Aye, the Drimma are mighty warriors.”

“But how would they cross the in-between? I mean, they know not the ritual.”

“Branwen, thou dost forget, the Drimma cannot lose their feet. And once they tread a path, it is with them forever. Hence, once through the steps of the crossing rite, they would repeat it without error.”

“Oh, I see,” said Branwen. “Then you are correct: we should have asked the Dwarves.”

“And you say you have them on your ship?” asked Dalor.

“None at the moment,” said Aravan, “but soon, I hope. A warband of forty will sail with us.”

“Oh, my, the Eroean ,” said Aylis, her eyes lost in softness. “I remember it well.”

They sat in silence for long moments, but at last Aylis said, “Come, Aravan, there is something in my cote I would have you see.”

Together they strolled to the small mountain cabin, and when Dalor heard the lock click shut behind them, he turned to Branwen and said, “As Alamar would say, canoodling.”

Together they broke into laughter.

In the black marks of the darktide, Elves on Adonar and Mages on Vadaria canted the chant and stepped the steps and crossed into the Untargarda, into the world of Neddra. The moment he reached the plateau, Aravan knelt and, shielded by Bair’s cloak to conceal the flash of light, transformed into a black falcon and took to wing. Up he soared and up, and then sailed o’er the crags, his flight curving on a long arc to another cardinal point of the nexus, a league and a mile due west the Black Fortress. There he settled down in an open area deliberately cleared in the midst of the Elven host where the captains waited for him. One of these captains, Silverleaf, whipped off his cloak and coaxed the near-wild bird to huddle beneath, the falcon keck ing in irritation at having to do so. Finally, though, shielded by the garment, Valke transformed back into Aravan, the argent flare flickering under the edges. When the light died, Aravan stood and looked about to see not only Lian Guardians but Dylvana as well, the Elven race of the woodlands, come to join in the fight.

Aravan turned to Arandor and said, “The Mages are across. Cloaked by illusion they are on their way here.”

Arandor nodded and said, “How many, all told?”

“Seven nines.”

“Then I will divide my force into sevenths,” replied the captain, “a century and a half for each nine.”

“Thou hast over one thousand?” asked Aravan. “I thought fifty tens was the count, though I suspected there would be more.”

“Aye, our ranks have swelled,” replied the captain, grinning. “Wouldst thou care to command one of the companies?”

Aravan shook his head. “Nay, for Valke is best as a scout.”

Arandor spread his hands wide. “Aravan, ’tis a marvel that thou canst do such a thing.”

“The crystal makes it so, Arandor.” Aravan paused a moment and then said, “When Valke is no longer needed, then will I join one of the companies, the one wherein Aylis marches.”

Arandor shook his head. “Nay, Aravan. Thou art too valuable a warrior to spend thy time ever fretting at her side.”

Among those gathered immediately about, two stepped forward-both Dylvana. “Vail and I will take Aylis under wing,” said Arin Flameseer, her bow in hand, as was Vail’s.

“As will we,” said Ruar, touching his own chest and then canting his head toward Rissa and Eloran.

Disappointed, yet understanding why Arandor would rather he be at the forefront instead of withdrawn and protecting Aylis, Aravan smiled and said, “Dylvana all, I see, and I could not ask for better.”

Arandor nodded his agreement, and then said, “Dawn on this miserable world comes but six candlemarks hence. Let us form up our seven companies to be ready when Magekind arrives.”

As Arandor went about the task of assigning one hundred and five tens among seven companies, one for each of the seven nines, Aravan paced and paused and paced again as he waited for his beloved to appear.

And dimly silhouetted against the stars, the sinister black moon of Neddra stole across the dark skies above.