Léonin was sitting in a comfortable chair in the main hall, on a small dais before the fire. Two Majisters flanked him, Theo on his left and Tal on his right. The Hall was vast, stone buttressed with many colorful tapestries. They spoke volumes in woven threads. Dane longed to examine them.
"As you know, the War of the Wyrm took place 500 years ago. At that time, the Wyrm was stopped, but at a terrible cost. Dissonance entered the Song. One of our number, Jamis, had foreseen the possibility. He took pains to hide the refrains of the Lorica, our most sacred book, throughout the world so it would not be lost forever. You saw a vision during your trial and witnessed pieces of the journey. Now, your task is to retrieve the refrains.
"The Draig are Chymaera, a very dangerous form. They've always been volatile. Children of the Flame, they are called. For good reason. They have fewer numbers than other sigils but live longer lives," said Léonin.
His demeanor was solemn, his eyes shone, hooded, deep pools. His voice rose and fell, full of beauty.
Dane and his companions had been seated at a table close to the center of the room, where they could see well. Léonin smiled briefly at Jax, his eyes flickering with something Dane wanted to call amusement. It was gone quickly and Dane wondered if he had only imagined the expression.
"I wish the Wyn could accompany you, however their absence cannot be helped. We will hope Zonah may convey the goodwill of the Wyn to the Draig. For indeed, before the Breaking, relations between the majisterium and the Draig had become strained. I fear now relations may be strained beyond mending. But we shall make the attempt. Dane, you shall be our ambassador. You must consider yourself such."
Dane nodded, humbled. He had not realized the majisters had strained relations with anyone, much less a powerful chymaera sigil.
"We need to be clear. What you are likely to encounter when you meet them, shall be anger," said Tal. "The Draig have always been hot-tempered. They are known to blame all but themselves for anything which goes wrong. We can assume they will blame us for the breaking of the Tree, and for Dissonance in the Song."
"But why?" asked Dane. "Did Jamis not give them the refrain to safeguard? Warn them of possible treachery?"
"He did," said Tal. "But in the time since the Breaking, the Draig have had ample opportunity to rewrite not just our history, but theirs. Beware of lies. The worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves. The imagined slight is one hardest to forgive. You shall need to stand firm. We did nothing wrong. Do not allow them to believe we did."
Dane nodded.
Jax cleared his throat.
"You're sending us into a nest of angry Draig?" said Jax. His speaking voice sounded now like a thousand insects buzzing to Dane's ears. Dane stared at him in horror. Is his voice filled with Dissonance?
Bell, sitting next to Jax, didn't react to Jax's voice as if it were anything but ordinary. She must not hear it, thought Dane. Léonin and Tal exchanged glances with Theo, who nodded to them briefly. The other majisters' faces reflected the discomfort Dane felt for a moment, but soon settled into calm masks.
Theo answered Jax. He said, "I shall be with you. I can speak regarding events in times past. You shall need to recount the events of late, the healing of the Tree and the majister's return. Dane, speak of what you know and have seen. All will be well."
"There shall be a puzzle they will ask you to solve," said Léonin. "I wanted to give you the answer now. It will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt you are the authorized representative of the majisterium." He handed Dane a book. "This is Odranoel's journal. The page you shall need to study is marked.
"Storm King be with you, Dane," said Léonin. "Go with Him as your guide, and may the Song lead you home."
***
When Dane got back to his rooms, he headed for a comfortable chair, and opened the journal to the marked page. The verse he found there read as a riddle.
It is cold and it is hot
It is light and it is dark
It is stone and it is wax
But its true nature is flesh
and its color is red.
The next line seemed like it referred to the World Tree.
Fruit reveals root.
Is this speaking of the Tree in some way? It must be. Why? What did it mean? The World Tree must be fully healed for the Song to be restored? I did heal it. Partially.
He qualified the thought, remembering how he had canted his sole refrain of the Lorica, almost under compulsion. N'khum had been there when it happened. The Wyn understood.
The Tree was impossibly alive, though riven almost completely in two. Perfect halves stood, with a large channel of water flowing through them. They were joined at the top, so far up as to be invisible to those on the ground. The War of the Wyrm had rent the Tree, the land, even the great city of Citraehne. The two halves of the city were ever after known as the Sundered Cities. The devastation throughout the Weldenlands had been unimaginable. It had taken decades to rebuild their cities. Many towns had built on top of the ruins of the old. Other places had just been abandoned.
When Dane had healed the Tree even partially, it had an equally profound effect. The two halves had visibly changed in the core of the massive hardwood trunk. Where before they had dripped with a bright red sap, making the Tree appear to bleed, now the entire interior of the trunk was coated. The sap had dried into a thick, fresh protective layer. Dane wondered if the two sides could ever meet and be made whole. An impossible hope. But he was newly-minted Majister. Impossible hopes felt to him, appropriate.
Dane had heard folk were now recovering from strange illnesses. Crops, which had been failing, were flourishing. Pezzik told him cows and goats had milk again. More than this, the Northern kingdom of Pelegor had been able to relight their Forge.
What would happen if the Tree healed completely? It would be beyond imagining.
Fruit reveals root. He mulled the phrase over in his mind. Finally, he banished the riddle away, willing himself to think on it while he did other things. Sometimes, when he did that, the answer would appear to him in the midst of other activities. "Let it be so, this time, Lord," he said. He got up and went in search of Bell.
***
Dane found Bell outside. She had wandered out to the surface of the island, and stood watching the lights of the village that wreathed the lake. She had a small pile of stones, which she threw, one at a time, skipping them across the surface of the water. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist. She turned in his embrace, to face him. Her face shone in the moonlight, her eyes wide as she examined him carefully, as if she were searching for something.
"What is it, Bell?" Dane asked, concerned.
"I just..." she started, then trailed off, dropping her eyes.
"Just what? Just agreed to go with me to meet angry dragons? Yes. You did," said Dane, teasing. He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face upward.
She made a frowny face and stuck out her tongue at him. "It isn't that. I don't mind going to meet angry dragons. They cannot have a worse temper than I do," she said. A wry laugh escaped her. "No. I suppose I was wishing we were home. I was wishing none of this had ever happened. I was wishing I could help plan the Harvest Festival and you were giving Poll all the gossip. Now I don't know when I will see home again. If I will see home again. I know I should be grateful, and I am. But I suppose part of me believed all of this was an adventure and we would return home, to our real lives, some day. This," she waved her arms around, indicating the island, "this is our real life now. This will be home."
Dane nodded thoughtfully. He bent to place a small kiss on her nose and pulled back, dangling their arms between them. "Is that something which you will get used to? Can you?" he asked.
Bell smiled. "Dane, wherever you are is my home. I can get used to it. But that doesn't mean I am not sad. I think it will get easier when we are settled and have a routine. The traveling and whatnot makes it difficult to grow attached to a new place. But I will, in time."
Dane nodded. He said, "It will get easier, I think. You know I can't go home. There's nothing left for me there. Truthfully, I don't think there was anything left after my parents died."
Bell stilled, and pulled her hands back from Dane's grip. "I think that is part of it too. I feel as if I am betraying my Pa, leaving the Inn unattended. Going off with you."
"He would understand, Bell," said Dane. Actually, he wasn't sure he would. Bell's father had been a stoic soul and the Inn had been the center of his life and world. But he was gone, now. Truth be told, her father would want Bell to be happy, perhaps above all else.
As if echoing Dane's thoughts, Bell said, "Would he? He would want me to be happy. I suppose that is enough."
Dane grabbed one of her hands, pulling her gently to walk beside him along the shore. "I'm glad you're here," he said quietly. "I'm glad you're going with me. I'm glad we are together."
Bell smiled. They walked along in silence, enjoying the gentle night sounds while the moon bathed them in its light.
***
The next day, Dane was up early. He found a satchel laid out for him and packed quickly. Bell and Jax had similar bags and they were just finishing breakfast when he arrived to greet them.
"Zonah is already readying our horses," said Theo, who grabbed a biscuit from the pile on the table. "We can make it to the aerie by nightfall if we make good time."
Dane hugged Pezzik, "I'll be back soon, deema," he said.
The gnome nodded solemnly, her cap quivering. "I shall finish getting settled while you're gone."
Jax took off his cap, scooping up the remaining biscuits and throwing them inside. "I'll watch them for you, Pezzik." He tapped his nose. "We'll be back before you know it." His voice still held the same buzzing as the night before, but Dane ignored it.
Pezzik handed Jax a wrapped bundle, and sniffed. "The rest of the biscuits and some meat pies. Eat them tonight."
Jax nodded and secured the package within his satchel. They followed Theo out the door, and down the hallway.
Theo led them them a maze of corridors and then up, blinking, into the pale dawn light. They were all quiet. It was too early for talking. Even Bell was unusually quiet. Dane grabbed her hand as they neared the stable on the edge of the island. She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him, "You ready for your quest?" she asked.
"I suppose so. Ready or not, we are going," he said. "I'm anxious to see the aerie."
"Do you think we will be attacked as we leave Siarad?"
Theo answered her. "We shall not be attacked, Miss Bell. I am with you. You have nothing to fear."
Dane shrugged.
Zonah was waiting for them with the horses ready. A pony had been saddled for Jax. They piled onto the lake's ferry, a large flatboat which seemed to move on its own. It floated across the lake.
Soon they were following a trail, north. It was quiet. No monster reared its ugly head today. Bees hummed and a heron glided overhead. Eventually the trail veered due north, and the lake fell behind them. The path narrowed, forcing the party to ride single file to keep the horses from turning an ankle. Dane focused on riding, his thoughts turning to the task ahead. The trail led into the hills, and Dane could see the mountains ahead.
The Song was humming through every inch of territory as they passed through. It thrummed through the wind in the grass, the sound of birds and insects accompanied the melody in Dane's mind. The music swelled, giving him a sense of peace. He relaxed and let himself enjoy the journey. When they passed out of the range of Siarad, the Song faded. However, Dane could still feel it in his bones. It moved through everything, audible or not.
The hadn't traveled out of range for long before Dane felt a particular unease. It grew in his temples, not quite a buzzing or a headache, though it could bloom into one at any moment. The back of his neck prickled as if he were being watched. He mentioned the feeling to Theo.
"Yes," Theo said. "'Tis the Dissonance. It has grown much while we Majisters were gone. Not quite the Dread, but still very uncomfortable."
"How do I deal with it?" asked Dane.
"You ask the Storm King to protect your mind from Dissonance. Ask Him for grace not to be influenced," said Theo. "He will answer you."
Dane nodded and let his horse fall behind Theo's, thinking. He closed his eyes and asked the Storm King for grace and protection. He clearly heard a melody play in his mind, wafting over him. His unease dissipated at once. "Thank you," he said.
The trail grew steeper and Dane watched carefully, guiding his horse to avoid stony outcroppings and exposed thickets of underbrush. The animal could slip and fall on the first or be surprised by small, hiding animals in the second. Dane heard familiar birds calling to one another, like village wives calling to their children.
They stopped for lunch several hours later, on the bank of a mountain stream. Jax unwrapped the package Pezzik had given him and passed out small meat pies and travel biscuits. That done, the gnome settled down to eat. Dane sat next to the gnome, resting his back against a tree. They built no fire.
"How long until we reach the aerie, Zonah?" Bell asked, tilting her head. Her long, dark curls framed her face.
Zonah thought for a moment, calculating. "Tomorrow," she replied. "Around midday. I must accompany you around the aerie, around the edge and through to the other side."
"We aren't permitted within?" asked Theo, his eyebrows raised.
Zonah shook her head. "No one enters the aerie since the Breaking. Before that, majisters were permitted, but it has not happened since the dewin lost their sanity and attacked. M'ra may make an exception when we arrive, but we should not count on it. There is a passage around which is most pleasant."
"I'll hope for M'ra's intervention, then," said Bell. "I've always wanted to see an aerie."
Within another half-hour they had packed up and were back on the trail.
Later that night they stopped to camp at a stone shelf on the edge of a pond. This place had been used by travelers in the past, many of them. Firewood was stacked neatly on the edge of the shelf and initials were carved into the stone. While Zonah and Jax set up the tents, Theo called Dane and Bell over to himself, the edge of the pond.
"Right," said Theo. "So now we begin the teaching portion of this journey. Miss Bell, I'd like you to attempt the things I ask Dane to do. But if you cannot do them, do not worry. This will be harder than you think, but it is very important. No worrying."
Bell frowned. "How am I supposed to not worry?"
Theo laughed. "You must stop the worries when they are mere shadows of thought. Do not even allow yourself to think a thought which entertains worry. If you start to worry, replace the thought with a refrain from the Lorica."
"But I do not know any refrains from the Lorica," said Bell, objecting.
Theo cocked his head at her. He did not answer. He simply waited.
Bell's eyes grew bigger. "Oh. Wait. I do know one refrain. The one Dane carried." She looked at him. "How did it go again?"
Dane smiled. "It feels like a part of me at this point. Come on, I'll teach you."
Theo nodded. "You teach her your refrain and explain to her the Song. What it does to you. I shall go help Zonah."
The Chymaera was struggling with one of the tents. Jax was pointing at a tent post. She had obviously not been able to attach it. Theo strode over to her to help.
Dane spoke slowly, giving Bell time to repeat his words as he said each line. He started in the second verse of the refrain.
Heedless heartless helpless
Blast blast away
Lone fire lighted
Truth cannot stay
When the heartfire kindles
All that is writ
The King will spend the Knight's blood
Bone fells Spirit
"It doesn't make any sense," said Bell, wrinkling her nose. "None at all."
Dane nodded. "I know. But try anyway. I think part of this...learning the refrain? Is the willingness to accept things that don't make sense. Think about it. When you were a child and your father told you to make your bed, did it make sense?"
Bell shook her head. "I always thought it was stupid, to make my bed. But I did it. Now I wouldn't think of not."
Dane nodded. "Making your bed is the first task of the day. It primes us to continue in our duties, and it makes the room look and feel better. But it does make sense when you know there are dust mites in the air that settle on surfaces. Making your bed make the room cleaner. It matters.
"So looking at this refrain, the first verse.
Heedless heartless helpless
Blast blast away.
Think of the your worry as a heedless thing. We are all in the hands of the Storm King. When we recognize we are in His hands, we aren't being heedless anymore. We are blasting that idea away." Dane grinned. "It's one way to look at it. "
Theo returned, his florid face gleaming from his exercise. "All right. Where were we?" He sat on.a large stone, leaning his bulky frame against it with a sigh.
"No worries," said Bell, reminding him.
"Ah. Yes. All right. Just follow along as best you can. Do not allow yourself to worry.
Dane? We are going to begin tonight with listening. Listening for the Song is one of the most important endeavors you shall ever attempt. It has layers, you see. Stop. Listen now," Theo's voice boomed with the special tone each majister possessed, giving his words power.
Dane closed his eyes and listened. I wonder if Bell will try this too? He allowed the thought to pass through his mind but didn't dwell on it. It was like a bird singing, easily ignored. He focused instead on the Song.
The Song's thrum had been underlying all of his activity throughout the day, but when he focused on it, it swelled like a symphony. He heard joy and peace. The crickets sang with the Song in his heart, a song of starlight and hope. Then he heard a sound like a tear, a ripping. The ripping came on suddenly. It was as if a Void was eating the hope and joy, leaving nothing blackness in its wake.
Dane opened his eyes. "I hear the Dissonance," he said.
"You will hear it more and more as you focus. It is dreadful. Yet it is part of the world we inhabit. You must train your mind to shut out the Dissonance and only listen to the Song," said Theo. "Try it."
"How?" asked Dane.
"Ask the Storm King for His help," said Theo. "He has the strength you need. It is different for each of us. You cannot do it without Him."
Dane nodded. Help me Storm King, to only hear your Song. To be influenced by your Song alone.
He shut his eyes and listened.
The ripping was still there, but it was not as prominent. It did not overwhelm the Song of hope. Images formed in his mind as he listened. Pezzik laughing. The Tree, surrounded by light. Sara and the look of focus she had when she had sung with him, back in the Inner.
Then a new image came, a dragon. He saw a golden dragon, wings outspread and mouth open, breathing fire.
His eyes flew open.
"I saw one of the Draig."