Draig

Rumors

Aric looked at his companions, a frank stare, his green eyes wide with concern. He protested loudly, with a brogue thick as their own.

"But I've seen them! Truly!" he said. "The Majisters 'ave returned, more's the pity. 'Tis why the sickness and flux 'ave been so bad these past weeks. The cows not giving milk. I didna' want to believe it at first, but a man down Ferriton way saw them too." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Shadowkin follow where they are found, because they are creating them. They control the songlines and the Dissonance grows wherever they step. They've come back now because their black deeds are nearly done. Soon 'twill be the Last Day!"

"But the Dread has lifted from Siarad," said a short man with a pug nose. "How can the Majisters be evil?"

Aric made the sign of the Arc to protect himself as he answered. "They've lifted the Dread, 'tis true. But they've set it free, you see, extended its reach. 'Tis now far larger and less obvious. Diluted you might say. But in pockets, as potent as ever. Worse. Folks have been found alone up and down the channel ...dead from fright."

He pulled a pipe from a pouch and filled it, his eyes on the tobacco as he loaded it into the bowl and tamped it down. He produced a match and lit the pipe, inhaling from it deeply before he settled back in his chair.

"Mind you do not leave your little ones where the Majisters can speak to them. Their voices are enchanted and evil. I've heard the children who listen to them are not seen again. They will kill the Tree and end the world and that's a fact." Aric nodded solemnly, looking around the Inn. Not everyone was taking part in their conversation, but he was fairly certain all had heard. "No, if you see a Majister, run away. Dom't listen to their voices. Their voices enchant all who hear them. The Cantors can help you if you've been exposed, before the spell takes full control. The Cantors will save us all."

An uneasiness grew among the crowd. Aric heard a few men murmur under their breath.

"....Dissonance..."
"...not afraid..."
"...can fight."

He drew upon his pipe once more, allowing smoke to drift, the soporific qualities in it to take effect. The men would not remember him the next day, but they would remember his words and the fear.

Oh. They would especially remember the fear.

Abruptly, he stood. "Must be goin' lads."

He wrapped his cloak about him him and tapped the pipe's embers out onto the floor, grinding the last sparks with his boot.

"Remember," he said. "The majisters fell in with the Wyrm and have come back to finish what they started. They cannot be trusted."

He swallowed a smile as he walked away. These commoners were so easy to turn. He almost felt sorry for them. When the truth did come out, it would be too late.

In the meantime, the tales these simpletons would carry would do his work for him.

***

Pezzik and Dane talked for over an hour. Dane recounted his adventures, telling her of his ritual Harmony Bond with Sara and about meeting the Storm King. This bond had made him a majister. Pezzik explained how she and the other gnomes had rescued the reamining village dewin. She was just telling him about Gisle de Clelland, the odd nobleman who had aided her, when Theo returned.

"I don't mean to interrupt, Dane, but we are ready to go into the village of Siarad," Theo said.

Dane nodded and stood. "I hope Bell is there," he said.

"Who is Bell?" asked Theo.

"She's the girl I love, and a dewin," said Dane. He emphasized the word "dewin."

Theo's brows shot up. "You love her?"

"Aye, though we are not pledged yet," said Dane.

"They are thick as thieves and no mistake," said Pezzik. "But I approve. Bell grew up with Dane and has a good head on her shoulders."

"Then I hope she is there as well," said Theo. "If she is dewin, she must stay here for training. Come, Dane. We shall sing together and share our good news with Siarad."

"I'll be here, Dane," said Pezzik. "No worries. Go on."

Dane gave a grateful glance to the gnome and followed Theo.

Theo led Dane through the tunnels and up a long passageway, coming out on the far side of the island. They made their way down to the lake shore. They walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. A glass bridge waited for them, up ahead. Long stairs arched up to a hanging platform. It looks as if it were made of ice, Dane thought. He followed Theo up the delicate stairs. When they got to the top, Léonin was waiting for them, along with Tal. A railing surrounded them. Dane heard chimes and then the platform began to elongate and move forward, rushing across the surface of the lake. He clung to the railing as the "bridge" stretched and sped across the water. The wind whipped past them. The village came into view. Dane saw the main docking area and a beach. Next to that was a jetty, where an Inn stood. People were clustered outside the Inn, looking at the island and pointing. Pointing at them, Dane realized.

He recognized several faces as the bridge slowed and came to rest next to the Inn. Tabor was there, along with Trystan, Jax and Bell. M'ra and N'khum stood to one side with Bren and Zonah. The railing before Dane melted, turning into stairs as the bridge connected with the land. Slowly, Léonin and Tal made their way down these steps. They stopped about halfway down. Theo nudged Dane down until they both stood one step above the other majisters. Léonin surveyed the villagers and cleared his throat. He said, "Good people of Siarad, the curse is broken! The dread is no more! The Majisterium has returned!"