CHAPTER FOURTEEN
When Teg came around, she was in the bed in the stern cabin aboard Slicewind. Other than a certain cottony dryness in her mouth, she felt wonderful. The lingering exhaustion that had soaked so deeply into her that she had ceased to feel it was gone. In its place was a curious buoyancy, the sort she hadn’t felt since she was a kid waking on Christmas morning or her birthday.
She was tying her second bootlace when Peg poked her head in through the cabin door.
“You’re awake! I just made a fresh pot of poffee. Want some?”
“Sure, but I want breakfast, more, or lunch, or whatever . . . What time is it?”
“Midmorning. You’ve been asleep for a day and some.”
“Am I the last one to come around?”
Peg nodded. “Xerak said that was because you gave so much of yourself. He’s been checking on you every hour since he came around himself.”
“At least,” Teg said, “he didn’t say it was because I’m so old. How are the rest? Uten Kekui seemed to have something wrong with his legs.”
“The angel got him with his sword,” Peg said. “Cerseru Kham’s patched him up, but it looks as if Nefnet is going to have another patient.”
Teg pushed herself to her feet. “Where are we anyhow? Are we still in that weird place?”
“Which weird place?” Peg laughed, then waved her hand to dismiss Teg’s reply. “I know what you mean. The one with floating mountains and lightning shadows. We’re back in normal weird—where all the people have animal heads, ships sail through the skies, and magic works. Everybody but you are up on deck.”
Teg stopped in the lounge long enough to gulp down a bowl of poffee, then Peg shooed her up on deck.
“I’ll bring you a proper breakfast. Go reassure the rest you’re all right. I don’t think everyone believed Xerak’s diagnosis.”
As Teg moved toward the hatch, Thought and Memory made one of their periodic appearances, twining around Teg’s ankles, clearly thrilled to find her awake. Stepping carefully to avoid treading on the cats, Teg climbed up the ladder. On deck, Teg found that “everyone” included Uten Kekui and Cerseru Kham. Uten Kekui looked a lot better than he had the last time she’d seen him, but then it didn’t take much to improve on crumpled unconscious in a heap.
Cerseru Kham lounged on one of the stern benches. Superficially, she looked much the same, but something had changed. With a start, Teg realized that she looked relaxed.
No wonder. For something like ten years she’s held all the responsibility for keeping the Bridge of Lives open. Now she’ll have help again.
Vereez was the first to spot Teg. Arms open, she rushed over to hug her. The boys were more restrained—but barely. Even Kaj gave Teg’s hand a squeeze and gaped his jaws in a wide canine smile. By the time the usual questions had been answered all around, Peg had arrived with a breakfast basket for Teg.
“You can even have a cigarette,” Grunwold said from his post at the wheel.
“Maybe later,” Teg said, realizing that, at least right now, the usual craving was barely an impulse. Maybe her pipe, but after she’d eaten. “Where are we going?”
“The Library of the Sapphire Wind,” Uten Kekui replied. “Now that I’ve accepted my role as trustee of Ba Djed, I need to start dealing with the problems I created in my last life—and one of those is the Library.”
Teg glanced at Xerak, wondering if he regretted giving up so much power to Uten Kekui, but the young wizard looked completely content. He’d even taken time to trim his mane, so he didn’t look so lopsided.
Our boy . . . Saves the world, but just as vain as ever.
“Not only the Library. There remains the problem,” Meg noted primly, “of all the spirits that Sapphire Wind archived.”
Uten Kekui nodded. “I know. Either they’re going to need to be brought back—and that’s going to cause a host of problems—or moved on. And that,” he said quickly, when several mouths opened in shocked protest, “is too much like murder. I do have Ba Djed and its power. Hopefully, I can use that to work something out.”
Vereez said, “I want to stay at the Library for a while. I think I’m finally all right with Brunni having Ranpeti for her mother, but accepting that doesn’t mean I can’t be Brunni’s friend, maybe even an ‘aunt.’ And the Library would be a good place for me to learn how to deal with magic. Eventually, maybe, I’ll apply to Zisurru University, but right now I’m not ready to return to a city where my parents have so much influence.”
“You’re not going to try to avoid them.” Peg’s statement was almost a question.
“No. But until I’m a little more balanced, I’m not ready to confront them. When I do, I want to do so from a position of power—not be seen as a little girl who can be sent to her room.”
“Good.” The response came from Cerseru Kham. “I am drawn to you, Vereez. Perhaps we were linked in a past life. If you’re interested in having more than one tutor, I would like to offer my services. Now that I am not pulled so thin, I would like to get involved with the world of the living again. Moreover, those of us who guard the roots of the world need to seek possible successors. Would you be interested in learning from me?”
Vereez’s eyes widened. “I would! I would be very honored, Cerseru Kham.”
“Excellent. We’ll talk more. I also plan to stay at the Library for a time. Such a place should not be left vulnerable to looters now that it has been reopened to the world, and I think Uten Kekui should welcome assistance.”
Uten Kekui looked startled. Clearly, he had been viewing the Library of the Sapphire Wind as Dmen Qeres might have—as his creation, his responsibility, his property. Teg forced herself not to grin. Uten Kekui might be different in many ways from Dmen Qeres, but the soul was definitely the same.
Peg looked around the group. “Grunwold? How about you?”
“I need to go home, see my parents. Tell them about what happened, about my bond with Slicewind. Need to find out what I can do to buy the ship from them. I know I’m not ready to settle down as a gentleman farmer who writes poetry to fill the lonely evenings, but maybe I can serve the family business in other ways.”
He glanced sideways at Vereez. “Maybe I could come to the Library, bring supplies. Help out.”
Vereez nodded and smiled, automatically but, if Grunwold was hoping for encouragement that she saw him as other than a friend, he didn’t get it.
“Xerak,” Peg said, “I suppose you’ll be helping your master at the Library.”
“Some,” Xerak agreed. “I think that it’s likely I’ll inherit Ba Djed when Master moves on, since it is already attuned to me, so I want to learn everything I can about the responsibilities of those who protect the roots of the world—and not just from Uten Kekui-va. If Cerseru Kham-va will accept me as a student, as well, I would be grateful.”
Cerseru Kham smiled. “I think I could manage more than one student.”
Xerak gave her a deep bow. “However, I’ve developed an itchy foot. Maybe I’ll see if Grunwold can use an assistant with some wizardly skills aboard Slicewind.”
“Yeah, you might be useful,” Grunwold said, grinning broadly. “You’re good for a lot of hot air, if nothing else.”
“Kaj?” Peg prompted, almost gently.
Teg thought that, of all of them, Kaj was the most changed by their ordeal. When they’d met him, anger and defensiveness made it easy to overlook his talents as a caregiver. She bet Kaj still had a lot of anger, but now he knew where to direct it. Moreover, he knew that he wasn’t a failure. Far from it. Although completely untrained, he’d done magic side by side with masters like Xerak and Uten Kekui.
Kaj had a place as one of the guardians of the roots of the world, too, if he was willing to accept the responsibilities that went with it. Kaj’s reply made it clear that he intended to do so.
“I need to go to Sky Descry, and tell them that Qes Wen has a new trustee. However, this trustee isn’t interested in making it easier for them to grant miracles. After that . . .” Kaj shook his head, a wide, sweeping gesture, like someone trying to shake off flies. “I’m also going to need teaching about a lot of things, but I don’t want to get it from anyone in the Creator’s Visage Isles. That place has been twisted by generations of people expecting miracles. When the expectation gets to the point that a little kid like Brunni is going to be sacrificed to that need—things must change.”
Cerseru Kham made a soft whistling sound. “They’re not going to like that.”
Kaj shrugged. “I’m incredibly used to people not liking what I do. Now that I’ve been honest about what I will and will not do, I’d like to ask you and Uten Kekui-va if you would to teach me what I need to know as a trustee.”
Uten Kekui said, “I owe you that and more. I would be pleased to help.”
Cerseru Kham nodded. “It should prove interesting.”
“But,” Kaj said, “in addition to learning how to be a trustee, I need grounding in the basics of the magical arts. Xerak? You started as my teacher because we were all desperate, but would you continue? I really can’t see myself at any university, magical or not. Not now, at least.”
Xerak studied him. “Only if we get a few things settled first. You saved my life, and I’m grateful. I’ll always be grateful. But if I’m teaching you, the fact that you saved my life is not going to be something you’ll hold over me whenever I give you some boring exercise to do.”
“Of course not!” Kaj looked genuinely shocked.
Xerak continued, his expression remaining very serious. “Because of your bond with Qes Wen, you’re going to have the potential to tap—quite literally—the power to do miracles. Access to that level of raw mana is contrary to the basic skills a wizard needs to develop. I’d like to work out—if possible, in collaboration with Uten Kekui-va and Cerseru Kham-va—a way to block your ability to tap that power, except in a major emergency.”
Kaj panted laughter. “You expect me to protest. No surprise, there. But you forget. I saw what associating with only one third of Ba Djed did to my mother. And even without the actual artifact in hand, I’ve felt Qes Wen’s incredible intensity. The great artifacts aren’t just tools, like a shovel or rake. They have agendas. I’m not interested in Qes Wen running me—I’d rather work out a partnership. Until I can do that, I think it can remain safe wherever my predecessor hid it.”
“Then I think I can teach you,” Xerak said. “If our teacher/student relationship doesn’t work out, we’ll find someone who will suit you better.”
Kaj grinned, looking honestly happy for the first time since Teg had met him.
Teg thought about her conversation with Vereez about Kaj, what seemed such a very long time ago, soon after their arrival on Sky Descry. She’d told Vereez that Kaj needed sexual conquests because he needed to feel like he wasn’t a loser. Was that still true? Would that part of him change?
Maybe. Maybe not. Certainly not all at once.
Along with Teg’s breakfast, Peg had brought a large carafe of poffee on deck. Under the guise of filling her bowl, Teg snuck a glance at Vereez, dreading that she might see the young woman staring in wide-eyed adoration at Kaj. But Vereez’s gaze was only approving, the same as she’d given Grunwold when he said he was going to find a way to claim Slicewind for his own.
She’s over Kaj. That doesn’t mean she’s not going to fall for him all over again, but this time it won’t be a fourteen-year-old’s first crush. And Grunwold’s not going to give up on her, either. And what about Xerak? Will he follow Uten Kekui’s example and rule students off-limits or will he make a play for Kaj? One thing’s for certain, rather than going their separate ways now that they’re no longer holdbacks, the journey that began at Hettua Shrine has bound all four more closely together.
“So,” Peg said, “our inquisitors have answered their questions—and we even took on a bonus mentee in Kaj. Our holdbacks are looking to the future. What does that mean for the three of us humans? Do we vanish into the mist, our tasks completed?”
She spoke casually, but a definite sadness leaked through nonetheless. After all, that was how the books always ended: neither the wise teachers nor the kids from another world got to stay in the imaginary realm that had become their heart’s home.
Gandalf sailed into the west with the elves. The Pevensie kids got too old for Narnia. Merlin got locked in a tree. The Magic Knights left Rayearth, even though they had found love and friendship there. Mary Poppins drifted off on an umbrella or balloon. Alice woke up to find Wonderland was only a dream. Adventures ended.
Cerseru Kham asked, “Is that what you would like?”
Peg frowned. “Does what I’d like have anything to do with this?”
“Of course, it does. When Hettua Shrine chose you three from all the millions . . .”
“Billions,” Meg muttered.
“. . . on your world, it chose three who would not be shattered by being taken from their homes and lives. It chose three who could come here without drowning in miserable longing for all they had left behind. The desire to go home again might be beneficial for young ones coming of age, but mentors are different. Mentors must be able to teach, to guide, to advise. They can’t do that if their hearts and souls are somewhere else, if their only agenda is getting back to where they feel they ‘belong.’”
Cerseru Kham glanced to where Thought and Memory were patrolling the Slicewind’s deck, hoping for treats or pats. “You even brought part of your world here, so your souls must be very powerful.”
“You mean we can stay?” Meg asked. “Here?”
“Do we need to choose?” Peg added. “Can we come back and forth like we’ve been doing? Maybe my family doesn’t need me as much as I’d like to think, but I need to keep in touch with them.”
“There is the time difference,” Teg mused. “A week here is a day there. That should make it easier to keep a foot in each world.”
“I do not know why you should not be able to continue traveling back and forth,” Cerseru Kham said. “Souls from this world cycle through yours. Our worlds are continuously connected.”
“Covering for absences would take some managing,” Peg said, “but I’m good at that. And there’s still work for us to do. I’ve been thinking about Grace. We really shouldn’t leave her stranded there on that mesa. Maybe Grunwold and I can figure out how to airlift her out. She’d probably love to settle near the Library, maybe down by the lake.”
Teg laughed. “I might come along for that trip. Once my sabbatical is over, I’ll be able to visit here less frequently, but I would like to do so. After all, I’ve discovered I’m a bit of a wizard. That’s something I don’t want to give up. But I’ve also learned a few things about holdbacks—including that I’ve been holding myself back. The place where I need to start making changes is back there.”
Fleetingly, she thought of Heath Morton.
Maybe I should ask him out. A date doesn’t mean I’m signing on for life, just signing on to Live.
Peg mused aloud, already working out the tactics, “If we’re coming back and forth, we’ll need to work out an enhancement on our bracelets, so we don’t take a chance of ending up at the wrong place. It’s certain to be complex, but with all these powerful wizards . . .”
“You would need an anchor,” Xerak began.
“You can use me as an anchor,” Meg interrupted. “I want to stay.”
Silence, then Peg said cautiously, “You do?”
Meg’s smile mingled sadness and a touch of a twinkle.
“I do, Peg. I know it’s hard for you to envision, but I’m not involved in my children’s lives. I haven’t been for decades. We have become friendly strangers. My grandchildren are interesting little people I see a few times a year, if I’m lucky. And for most of those visits, I’m on the sidelines, watching some sports team or school play or graduation or other rite of passage.”
She swept her hand in the direction of the four young mentees.
“I feel a much greater involvement with our inquisitors. I’d like to see what they’ll do with their lives. Then there’s the Library. It needs a proper librarian, not just a bunch of wizards. I quite like Sapphire Wind. I believe we could get the Library nicely in order. And, to be frank, there’s the chance that I’ll live much longer if I stay here. I’m in my midseventies. In our world, based on my family history, I can expect another ten years of life, maybe twenty. Here that will stretch sevenfold. I like that idea, quite a bit, actually. After all, I’ve promised Kuvekt-lial that I’ll write up our travels for him. That will take time.”
“When you put it that way,” Peg said. “Yes. I can see it. Maybe I’ll choose an active retirement here, too, but I’m not quite ready to retire.”
Teg nodded. “Nor am I. Neither here nor there. After five decades and some, I think I’m finally discovering how much there can be both to life and to living.”