Bone, Fog, Ash & Star (44 page)

Eliza and Charlie gaped at her.

“What for?” asked Eliza.

Nell shifted uncomfortably. “My test is tomorrow.”

~~~

The following weeks passed in a blur. Shortly after Nell left for Austermon on Ka’s dragon, the Thanatosi appeared. For the first time, Eliza performed the Magic that would have been her duty as the Shang Sorceress, the Magic her ancestors had performed. She banished them, forcing them with Magic to return to the Crossing and to Tian Xia, never to come again to Di Shang. Of course, as Foss had said, there were always more, like the Cra. Until the worlds were severed, they would keep coming.

For several exhausting days in the desert, Eliza returned her mother’s memories to her. Nia had been right that the power was deeply entwined with memory and other aspects of self. Returning Rea’s memories and thoughts and fears and strengths without returning any power to her required a very strenuous, meticulous kind of Magic. She could not return it all in the precise form it had been when it was taken. Rea’s old self was returned to her fragmented and altered, not quite what it had been, but nevertheless the change in her was remarkable. She could walk unaided at last, and some of the pride and certainty Eliza had seen at the Lake of the Deep Forgotten returned to her.

In the ruined Citadel, she returned the knowledge Nia had drained from the Mancer Library. The many treasures of the Mancers as well as the thousands of books were piled around the dark wood that still stood at what had been the northeast corner of the grounds.

They repaired the Vindensphere and searched out the few Tian Xia worlders remaining in Di Shang. This included, among others, a fair number of the Cra, several womi, one very shy wizard who had, for over a hundred years, disguised himself as a snow-covered rock in the Karbek mountains, three witches, one of whom was the president of a major corporation and was not at all pleased at being forced to abandon all her holdings, and a community of trolls living underground in Huir-Kosta. Besides banishing all of these, Eliza had, every few days, to contend with new hordes of the Thanatosi. When Charlie was not with her, he had to remain within a barrier.

And yet in all these endeavours she felt she was using but the surface of a Magic that went deeper than she dared yet to plumb. She was weary, but she knew there lay within her a vast, dark well of power, and when she was quiet and alone, she felt something from its depths stir and whisper unintelligibly.

Ferghal was granted use of a dragon to return to Scarpatha. Without the Mancers propping up the Republic, he said, he was interested to see how the politics of Di Shang would shift, and he wanted to stand with the Scarpathians. Foss wrote him a letter presenting him to the Prime Minister of Scarpatha, currently in prison, and allowed him to take three treasures from the Citadel. He chose a goblet of Faery Gold, for, as he said, he was short on cash and it was no doubt worth a fortune, a crystal ring that turned dark when danger approached, (“There is nothing worse, by all that’s mighty, than having danger sneak up on you unawares!”) and Foss’s portrait, which they managed to retrieve unharmed from the rubble of the Portrait Galleries. He and Foss said long and emotional farewells, but the other Mancers seemed very relieved to have him gone and Eliza heard a number of them commenting on how nice and quiet it had become.

Eliza thought once or twice that she would like to see Holburg again before leaving, but in all the activity there was no time, and the day she had to say her farewells crept up on her faster than she had expected. Perhaps it was better that way, she told herself.

~~~

In her tent in the desert, she looked over her few possessions, wondering what to pack. Here was the chess set her father had carved for her, and the little amber dropper Uri mon Lil had sent for her birthday. A good dream.
The Legends of the Ancients
– its author had not been so far from the truth after all, she thought. Foss was now eager to work on a commentary to the text. She unfolded a piece of paper and saw it was Charlie’s map of the island he had named Eliza. She would never see that island now. Seventeen waterfalls, he had said.

Her father entered the tent and sat down with her. When she had told him what had to be done, pain had closed his face, but he had not said one word to dissuade her. Unlike her friends, he was used to accepting the decision of a Sorceress. He knew, more than she did even, what it meant, and the sacrifices that were required. Now he said nothing, but waited for her to speak.

“I dinnay feel like myself,” she said. “With all this power, am I still even Eliza?”

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face towards his, looking deep into her eyes. She looked back. If I cry now, she thought, I won’t stop. And she pushed her sorrow deep down again, where the Magic was waiting.

“You’re Eliza,” he said firmly, releasing her. He looked around the tent. “What are you taking with you?”

“Nothing,” she decided.

He followed her out of the tent. There on the hot sand, she found herself inescapably in the moment she had been dreading above all others.

They stood before her. Her mother, still half a stranger to her. Her beautiful Charlie, her beloved Nell, holding hands. Nell was crying and Charlie had a puzzled look on his face, as if he didn’t understand what was happening. And her father. It was impossible.

“I cannay say goodbye,” she told them. “I’m sorry, but I just cannay.”

Her father’s face crumpled and he reached for her. She fell into his embrace, breathing in for a brief moment the familiar smell of him, then pulled away. She couldn’t speak and she only hoped that they would understand.
You will cut out your own heart.

She turned away from them and became a single raven, flying north, straight as an arrow over the desert.

~~~

The Mancers were waiting for her.

“Where will you go?” she asked Foss.

“We will build another Citadel in the Yellow Mountains,” said Foss. “And we will turn our power to the accumulation of knowledge and the recording of history, our true strengths. But what about you, Eliza Tok?”

“I dinnay know.”

“You are welcome with us, of course. Whatever the relationship between the Sorceress and the Mancers is to be in the future, you and I will forge it together. There will be no Shang Sorceress henceforth. You will be the only Xia Sorceress. Nia’s heir, ironically, and also the most powerful Sorceress ever to have lived.”

“I wish I knew what I should do with all this power.”

“I hoped you might help us build the new Citadel. But you have just cause to be wary of the Mancers.”

“So do you,” said Eliza, smiling. “Helping with the new Citadel will give me something to do to start out, aye. Plus it’s a good way of making sure I know what’s in all the secret rooms and towers! Then I’ll go see my grandmother. Praps she’ll be able to help me figure out what to do next.”

Foss nodded gravely and turned to the assembled Mancers.

“It is time.”

Eliza went first into the dark wood. It made way for her and she came quickly to the silver shore. Hundreds of boats emerged from the mist. The Boatman bowed in wordless greeting to her. The Mancers set about loading the boats with their treasures and books. Eliza, Foss, and the Emmisariae boarded one boat.

Di Shang slipped away.

The Crossing seemed briefer than in the past. Long before Eliza expected it, the mist parted and the countless boats made their way across the green water to the great black cliffs. Steps opened up before them.

“My time is done, Sorceress,” said the Boatman, with a respectful bow. When she looked back, she saw that the thick white mist at the centre of the lake was gone. It was only a lake now. There was no way back.

“Come,” said Foss.

He held out a big golden hand and Eliza took it. Together they climbed the steps into Tian Xia.

Epilogue

Many Years Later

Nell makes her way up the windswept hill
, holding her coat tight around her. Seabirds call out to each other from the rocky shore behind, skimming the water and landing on ice floes. She bends down and picks a tiny purple sprig.
Ellis Mosapa
, native to these islands off the northern coast of Scarpatha. While most would consider it a barren place, Nell will miss it. The islands are bleak and icy, but the sea here throngs with life. Now winter is setting in, and they cannot stay. Her assistants all left a few weeks ago, and the few islanders remaining will soon take the boat for the mainland and pass the winter there.

She tucks the sprig into the buttonhole of her coat and shivers as an icy gust sweeps over her again. The research centre stands at the top of the hill, sturdy and squat against the wind. She can see Charlie readying the little plane that is his pride and joy.
The Gryphon
is painted in bold black letters across its side. She smiles and climbs faster.

“Boo!”

She shrieks, nearly jumping out of her skin. The two little girls who had been hiding behind a rock are laughing uproariously now.

“Frightened you!” shouts one, a skinny, swarthy little thing with corkscrew curls, no more than ten years old, and for half a second Nell’s heart swells hugely in her chest. She shakes her head and laughs at the girls.

“You’d better get on home,” she says to them in fluent Scarpathian. “The wind is rising. I’ll see you again in the spring!”

“Where will you go?” asks the little girl who reminded her so of Eliza.

“South,” she says, smiling at them. “Where the whales are.”

The two girls run off, holding hands and giggling. For a moment, she stands still and looks after them. It happens often, more and more it seems, that she sees shadows of Eliza. As if she is waiting for her, as if at any moment she might come around a corner. What would she look like now? What is she doing?

A shout from up the hill. The plane is ready and Charlie is waving at her to hurry. Smiling and waving back, she climbs towards him up the hill.

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to my editor, Laura Peetoom, and to all the kind, talented, witty people at Coteau Books, for turning my stories into beautiful books. Watching Tian Di go from stuff-in-my-head to books-in-the-world has been a great joy. I could not have navigated the new waters of Being An Author without guidance from the inimitable Amber Goldie and my glitch-fixer Kelsey Koshinsky.

Love, gratitude and cake, so much cake, to those who read my terrible drafts and support my peculiar life choices, starting with Egans large and small, presented here in order of height: David, Joshua, Michael, Kieran, Susanna, Jordan, and Janice. More love / thanks / cake to my grandmother Kato Havas, Jonathan Service (also mapmaker extraordinaire), Gillian Bright, and the ridiculously patient Mick Hunter, who keeps this ship afloat and looks good doing it.

And you, whoever you are, for reading this far: here is some cake for you, as well. Thank you.

About the Author

Catherine Egan
is the Gold Moonbeam Award-winning author of
The Last Days of Tian Di
trilogy. Her short fiction has been published in Canadian and US journals. Catherine is a world traveller who has lived in Canada, the UK, Japan and China. She currently resides with her family in Connecticut. Follow Catherine on Twitter @ByCatherineEgan and visit her website at www.catherineegan.com

Contents

1. Title Page
   
2. Book & Copyright Information
   
3. Dedication
   
4. Maps
   
5. BONE
   
6. Chapter 1
   
7. Chapter 2
   
8. Chapter 3
   
9. Chapter 4
   
10. Chapter 5
    
11. Chapter 6
    
12. Chapter 7
    
13. FOG
    
14. Chapter 8
    
15. Chapter 9
    
16. Chapter 10
    
17. Chapter 11
    
18. Chapter 12
    
19. Chapter 13
    
20. Chapter 14
    
21. Chapter 15
    
22. ASH
    
23. Chapter 16
    
24. Chapter 17
    
25. Chapter 18
    
26. Chapter 19
    
27. Chapter 20
    
28. Chapter 21
    
29. Chapter 22
    
30. STAR
    
31. Chapter 23
    
32. Chapter 24
    
33. Chapter 25
    
34. Chapter 26
    
35. Chapter 27
    
36. EPILOGUE
    
37. Acknowledgements
    
38. About the Author