Song Magick (32 page)

Some part of Telyn’s growing sensitivity
alerted her that Mithrais was nearby, and she realized that she
must have been absent from the Circle far longer than she had
intended.

“I know you’re there,” she said quietly,
looking around. She detected Mithrais’ shadowy outline as he
unfolded himself from the trunk of another tree some yards away,
and Telyn heard the slightly uneven fall of his steps as he came to
her.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Mithrais said
apologetically.

“I lost track of the time. I wasn’t just
sulking in the dark, although I did my share of that,” she replied
dryly. “Did the Elders think I had run away?”

“I assured them that you would return,”
Mithrais said, and added teasingly in afterthought, “Of course, I
did not say when, in the off chance that I was wrong.” Telyn was
forced to smile at that, and Mithrais brought his hands up cup her
face tenderly.

“You don’t have to do this tonight, if you’re
not ready.”

She shook her head, kissing his palm briefly
before taking his hands in her own. “I can’t keep pushing it away.
The task is mine. I need to define it so that we can begin to
devise some sort of plan.” Telyn drew in a shaking breath, and
turned resolutely back toward the Circle. “Who will be
eavesdropping?”

“Semias. As Elder Heartspeaker, it is his
responsibility to evaluate new gifts. He is highly skilled, but
perhaps not as disciplined as my father.” Mithrais was silent a
moment as they walked slowly toward the clearing, and he squeezed
her hand encouragingly. “You’ll do well. Don’t let the Elders force
you into anything that causes you discomfort.”

* * * *

Semias’ long, cool fingers clasped firmly
about Telyn’s wrist. His unfamiliar presence in her mind was
distracting, and the proximity of the other three Elders, who
crowded eagerly around the tree, made Telyn feel trapped. Mithrais
stood just to the side. Telyn knew that he would watch closely,
working in her interest should she decide that the contact be
terminated. She placed the palms of her hands against the trunk and
began to ease open her shields as she felt the immediate pooling of
energy before her. Perhaps because she had already lowered her
defenses, the Gwaith’orn’s advance was less forceful this time, but
Telyn did not drop her guard.

Seed-voice. We are pleased that you have
returned to us.

Her song magic glowed like a coal afire with
a welcoming chord, soft and reassuring. Beside her, Semias
startled, looking at his fellow Elders with excitement. Telyn
ignored him, concentrating on her shields.

Old ones.
She kept her reception cool
and slightly distant.

We have shown you something of what we can
accomplish together. Open to us.
The pressure against her
shields was building, but she held fast in stubborn refusal. The
pressure subsided, and she sensed something very like
frustration.

Why do you resist?

Because you try to force me,
Telyn
told them curtly. Telyn could sense Semias’ shock at her tone, and
she met his wide, disbelieving eyes for a moment. She assumed that
no one had ever been quite so irreverent with the Gwaith’orn, but
Telyn was adamant.
I can speak to you with words—tell me what it
is that I need to know.

We will show you, as we did before.
An
enticing, seductive trill of vibration shivered up her back as the
Gwaith’orn made another attempt to breach her shields, and then it
ceased, fading into a disappointed cascade.

I will not allow you into my mind unless I
know what you mean to do,
Telyn told them fiercely.

You do not trust us.
There was a
questioning lilt, a hint of amusement that disarmed Telyn
slightly.

You have given me no reason to,
she
accused.

We have not harmed you. But perhaps, we do
begin to know what it is to fear.
A dark chord, faintly
menacing in its reverberation, and Telyn was suddenly certain that
they felt threatened.
We understand. Words are slow and tedious.
It would be simpler to show you.

Not this time. Perhaps when you have
gained my trust, I can allow it.
Telyn made certain that it was
clear.
I must be given the choice to let you enter my mind or
use my gifts.

We are not accustomed to bargaining for
trust.
Their amusement was slightly patronizing; the faint
discord most definitely a mark of frustration, and Telyn could not
keep a smile from forming on her lips. After a moment of
deliberation, came:
We will endeavor to earn it. The choice will
be yours.

Semias made a squeaking noise, his mouth
open, but whether it was with disbelief at her boldness or at the
Gwaith’orn’s compliance, Telyn didn’t know.

Thank you, old ones,
she told them.
I intend to fulfill the charge you have given me. Tell me what
it is that troubles you, and what I have to do.

We will call the servants of the Wood to
us. Within this place, we are still strong, and all must know what
is to happen.
There was a pause.
The shaping of words will
be required, as before.

It was as much of a request as she could hope
for, Telyn decided.
I will allow it.

The summons went out from the tree, a wave of
energy that brought sudden, startled silence within the Circle.
Mithrais and the Elders rocked back slightly in their proximity to
the pulse of resonance, and as it reached the wardens, all eyes
turned toward Telyn.

“The Gwaith’orn wish to speak to all of us,”
Semias announced unnecessarily, fairly quivering with
excitement.

The low rumble began again beneath Telyn’s
feet, her song magic rising with its intensity. This would be the
first real test of the Gwaith’orn’s sincerity, and although her
heart was pounding, Telyn lowered her shields enough to allow them
access to her gifts. An involuntary gasp was drawn from her as the
magic left her body in a rush of power, arcing outwards to curve
like a purring cat around Mithrais and the Elders before turning
its attentions to the assembled wardens. They instinctively drew
nearer to listen, even though the voice had no audible form.

Our roots are deep. We drink from the
wellspring of magic, but in accordance with the covenant, we cannot
use it without the focus of one who bears the old gifts. Power must
be used, or it ebbs. The fount is failing, and with it, we also
fail. The covenant will be broken.

Those in silence have already been lost.

Within Telyn’s own mind, a sorrowful echo of
her lament sounded, and the bard realized that the Gwaith’orn had
truly mourned with the Tauron, if for different reasons. The
musical reference did not carry to the others, but there was a
flurry of dismay and shock from the wardens; Telyn saw that
Mithrais was wide-eyed and stricken, the Elders blank and stunned
as the Gwaith’orn continued, undeterred:

Yet by the seed-voice, their essence can be
quickened and replace the old. It was not by chance that she was
chosen for this task. She is the life-giver, and can shape the
power to her will—the first in so many seasons to bear the old
gifts. There are some among you, our faithful ones, who carry the
potential to use the power through her focus. We will become strong
as the fount is replenished, and in you, the old gifts will rise
again.

There came a series of signatures. So quickly
were they sounded that they blended into a harmonic whole, and
Telyn felt an odd buzzing begin in her mind, a dizzy feeling that
was not completely unpleasant. The signatures came again, more
slowly, and Telyn counted nine in all. Mithrais’ signature was
among them, and she thought she recognized Cormac’s high, piping
signature as well. Her eyes searching for the familiar yellow head,
Telyn found him not far away, and saw Cormac’s blue eyes go round,
a broad smile of delight crossing his face as he met her gaze.
Among the assembled wardens, there were faces filled with growing
wonder as they comprehended that they had been singled out by the
Gwaith’orn.

It is your task to aid the seed-voice. The
time to fulfill the covenant has come. We have held the magic in
trust. Now you must shoulder its responsibility, or its loss. As
the days lengthen, the fount ebbs. It must be filled before the
turn of the sun, or the essence of those who are silent will pass
into darkness, and we will follow them.

Her song magic retreated into Telyn’s breast,
the rumble of vibration fading until the ground was still and
silent beneath her feet. Telyn began to feel lightheaded; she
realized that she was drained and exhausted, for this was the
second time in a few hours that she had been called upon to serve
as a conduit for the Gwaith’orn’s use of her magic. Her mind was
blurry with fatigue, but the Gwaith’orn still had not given her any
detail in regard to her own part.

How is it to be done?
Telyn asked
desperately.

You are the source and the means. The
knowledge has already been given.

I don’t understand!

There was no further reply, and the resonance
retreated into the branches above her even as Telyn’s vision was
graying. She swayed dizzily, and Semias’ fingers tightened on her
wrist as he glanced at her, concerned. Mithrais moved to stand
beside her, his hand on her back, warm and steadying. Her knees
buckled as blackness swam over her. Telyn was dimly aware of
someone catching her as she fell, before consciousness fled.

* * * *

She opened her eyes, blinking against the
brightness of flame, and turned her head away from the brilliance
to the softer glow of stars above her. Comprehension came that she
was lying beside one of the smaller fires that had been built at
the edge of the clearing. Someone’s cloak was spread beneath her,
another drawn over her as a blanket, and she smiled faintly at
Cormac’s worried face looking down upon her.

He grinned in relief, and Telyn pushed
herself to a sitting position. Another hand came around her
back.

“Gently.” That was Halith, her warm eyes
meeting Telyn’s. “You may still be a bit weak. Do you remember what
happened?”

“Yes. How long have I been unconscious?”
Telyn asked, rubbing her forehead.

“Less than two hours. Semias said you
expended a great deal of energy. How do you feel?”

Telyn thought a moment. “Starving,” she
admitted. “Otherwise, a bit tired, but I’m fine.”

“I’ll get you something to eat,” Cormac
offered eagerly, and was gone.

Halith smiled at Telyn. “He’s quite the
mother hen,” she said. “He hasn’t left your side since Mithrais
gave him charge of you.”

“Where is Mithrais?” Telyn asked, her brow
creasing. Halith gestured with her head toward a group clustered
beneath the easternmost Gwaith’orn. Telyn glimpsed the Elders;
Mithrais and Rodril were in their midst. Also present was Ronan the
Southwarden, and two others that Telyn did not know: a male and a
female.

“So, Mithrais and Cormac were chosen...do I
know any of the others?”

Halith shook her head. “I don’t believe so.
There are two from Ronan’s ward, three from Deirdre’s—” Halith
nodded toward the woman who listened to Jona’s argument— “one from
Colm’s, and Colm himself.”

“None of the Elders, then. Are any women?”
Telyn asked curiously. Besides Halith and Deirdre, she had seen at
least two other female wardens in the Circle.

“None but you.”

Telyn reflected on the words of the
Gwaith’orn, and sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. “I am the source
and the means, they said. The Gwaith’orn claim the knowledge has
already been given, but I still don’t understand.”

“They called you life-giver,” Halith said
thoughtfully. “It would suggest that what you are to do is an
inherently female act. Perhaps all there is to it is that you must
be a woman.”

Telyn winced self-consciously. “That may be
more difficult for me than anything else,” she admitted. “My foster
father and father were all I ever knew. My tutors also were men.
I’m more comfortable in a council than in a weaving-room or a
nursery, and prefer a sword to a sewing needle.”

“Simply because we are equals of men does not
mean we can’t also be women,” Halith reminded Telyn, settling
beside her. She smiled proudly. “Rodril and I have a son. Liam came
of age two years ago, and became a warden last midsummer. He is one
who volunteered to keep his post tonight. I am of the opinion that
being his mother required more strength and skill than being a
Tauron warden.” She and Telyn laughed together, and Halith’s eyes
turned to Rodril. The older woman said quietly, “And in being
lifemate, I have discovered that I am capable of more softness than
I ever knew I possessed.”

“That last is something I am beginning to
discover,” Telyn said, coloring deeply as her own gaze sought
Mithrais. “I seldom act without first considering the consequences.
It’s how I was trained. But, love...” She laughed self-consciously.
“If that wisdom is something learned at a mother’s knee, then I
have missed a great deal. It frightens me more than the Gwaith’orn
do.”

“There are no lessons to be taught, except
those you will teach each other.” Halith smiled. “When you learn
that you can yield and still be strong, it will cease to frighten
you.” She raised one eyebrow. “Perhaps it’s true of the Gwaith’orn
as well.”

At that moment, Cormac returned bearing food
and a cup of ale, which Telyn accepted gratefully. She forced
herself to eat slowly and soon felt much better, although the bard
thought she could have wolfed down three times the amount of bread
and cheese and still not appeased her rumbling stomach.

Having grown steadily larger as the
discussion gained an audience, the group at the base of the tree
now began to drift away. Rodril and Mithrais made their way toward
the fire where their comrades waited, accompanied by the man Halith
had identified as Colm.