Child of Flame (Crown of Stars 4)

“‘This is not a good country,’ said The-One-Who-Counts. The council listened to her words, and they left that place.

“After much wandering, the thirteen clans came to the middle sea. Here, also, the pale ones lived, but these pale ones acted like people, not beasts. The council met, and The-One-Who-Counts said to them: ‘This is a better country.’

“They made a harbor there and built cities in the place known after that as Abundance-Is-Ours-If-The-Gods-Do-Not-Change-Their-Minds. Into this land the clans settled and made new homes. “None of the offerings were forgotten, and in this way rain fell at the proper time and sun shone at the proper time. There were many children. In this land, the people called themselves The-Ones-Who-Have-Made-A-New-Home.

“Some of the pale ones, who called themselves humankind, came as friends to our people. Others came from the south, who had skin as black as charcoal, and some from the east, who were the color of clay. Some among humankind walked together with our people and painted the clan marks on their bodies. In this way, they became part of the clans, and their blood and our blood mixed.

“Many Long Years passed. The counting-women walked on the temples and counted the rising and setting of the stars. At the end of every four Long Years, which marks a Great Year, they ascended the Hill of the Star and watched to see if the Six-Women-Who-Live-Upriver would pass the zenith. In this way, the counting-women would know that the movements of the heavens had not ceased and that the world would not come to an end.

“Hu-ah. Hu-ah. Let She-Who-Creates be pleased as my story continues.

“The time of four omens began in the year of 1-Mountain. In the season of Dry Light, the people saw a strange wonder. A column of flame appeared in the sky. Like a great wound, it bled fire onto the earth, drop by drop. The people cried out all together in wonder and in dread, and as was the custom, they clapped their hands against their mouths. They asked the counting-women what it could mean, the counting-women answered that the stars spoke of a great cataclysm, the rising of the Fifth Sun, under which the whole world would suffer. That year, there were many offerings to the gods.

“In the year of 12-Sky, fire ran like a river through the sky at daybreak. It split into three parts and the three parts became wind. One part of wind rose up to the Hill of the Stars and smashed the House of Authority. The other two parts lashed the waters of the Lake of Gold until the waters boiled. Half of the houses of the city fell into the boiling waves. Then the waters sank back to their rightful place.

“In the year of 9-Sky, a whirlwind of dust rose from the earth until it touched the sky. Out of the whirlwind came the voice of the crying woman, and she cried, ‘We are lost! Let us flee the city.’ After that, the sky inhaled the whirlwind, but the crying woman was left behind, and she would often be heard in the middle of the night.

“The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat sent out the most gifted seers and sorcerers to see what was happening, but everywhere they went their human neighbors greeted them with stones and spears, violence and battle. The men who speak for peace went out among humankind, but they were killed.

“The shana-ret’zeri were on the move, and they had allied with the human tribes. Even those whom we had taught and taken into our own towns turned against us. The long enmity between our peoples could not be healed. At this time the year 2-Sky came to an end, and the counting-women tallied the beginning of the year 1-Sky with offerings. Thirteen times had the full count of Great Years run to completion, which meant that the Long Count had come full circle. This was the time of greatest danger, for at the end of each Long Count, the gods gained the power to destroy the sun.

“It came to pass that on the two hundredth day of 1-Sky, two of the fisherfolk captured a heron in the waters of the lake. The bird was so marvelous and strange that none of them could describe it, so they took it to The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat. She had gone already to the Hall of Night to celebrate the evening banquet.

“A crown of stars was set on the head of the bird. The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat said, ‘Within the crown I see a mirror, and the mirror shows me the heavens and the night sky. In the mirror, I see the stars we call the Six-Women-Who-Live-Upriver, but they are burning.’ Now she was very afraid, because it seemed to her that this was not only strange and wondrous, but a particularly bad omen.

“She looked a second time into the mirror. She saw the human sorcerers standing within their stone looms and weaving a spell greater than any spell known before on Earth. Then the seers and the counting-women of my people understood the intent of the shana-ret’zeri and their human allies.

“Too late had we discovered the danger. Our enemies had already woven the net to catch us.”

Abruptly, the old sorcerer could not go on. He faded as the sun fades beneath the hills, losing all power, and his body bent over his crossed knees as though he had fainted.

“I will not speak of the suffering,” he said in a whisper that nevertheless penetrated the entire chamber, “or of the ones we lost. Only this. By means of the spell woven by the human sorcerers and their allies, our land was torn away from Earth. Here in exile we have lingered. The land dies around us as all plants die in time, when they are uprooted. We have dwindled. We would die were we to remain in this exile forever.”

He straightened up. The fire of anger flashed in his gaze again, the stubbornness of a man who has seen a sight worse than death but means to survive longer than his enemies. He looked directly at Liath. “But what is born out of Earth returns to Earth. This truth our enemies did not comprehend. They thought to rid themselves of us forever, but they only exiled us for a time.”

“How can that be?” demanded Liath. “If they flung you and your homeland away from Earth, then surely it must be your own sorcerers who are bringing your land back to Earth.”

“Give me your belt.”

She undid her leather belt and walked forward with her tunic lapping her calves. The council members had fallen into a profound silence, whether out of respect for Eldest Uncle and his memories, or out of sorrow for what had been lost, she could not know.

He took the belt and held it by the buckle so that the other end dangled loose toward the floor. Grasping the other end, he brought it up to touch the buckle.

“Here is a circle.” He placed a finger on the buckle. “If I were to walk on the surface of this belt, where would I end up?” He let her draw her finger from the buckle around the outside flat of the belt, until she returned to where she had started.

“So,” he agreed, because she was nodding, “think of the buckle of this belt as Earth. When the human sorcerers wove their spell, they meant to throw my people and the land in which we dwelt off of Earth, to a different place, so—” He moved her finger from the buckle to the underside of the buckle. “Now the one is separate from the other. Even if I walk on this side of the belt, I will not come back to Earth. Do so.” She ran her finger along the inside flat of the belt and, truly, although she remained close to the other side of the belt, although she passed underneath the buckle that represented Earth, she never returned to it. The two sides were eternally separate, having no point of connection.

He let the end of the belt dangle loose again, holding only the buckle. “But it seems they overlooked a quality inherent in the nature of the universe.” Taking the end of the belt, he gave it a half twist and then brought it up to the buckle. “Now, you see, if I walk the belt, I pass one time around and circle underneath the buckle but I remain on the same surface and continue once more around the belt until I return to the buckle itself.”

“Ah,” said Liath, fascinated at once. She traced the surface of the belt all the way around twice without lifting her finger from the leather, and the second time she came back to the buckle, where she had started.

“I never thought of that!” she cried, amazed and intrigued. “The universe has a fold in it.”

“So you see,” said Eldest Uncle approvingly. “Although our land was flung away from Earth, the fold in the universe is bringing us back to where we started.”

He rose unsteadily, as if his knees hurt him. Extending an arm, he addressed the council. “On Earth, the measure of days and years moves differently than it does here. Soon, the full count of Great Years will have again run to completion thirteen times on Earth. The ending point will becoming the starting point, and we will come home.”

Cat Mask seemed about to blurt out a comment, but Eldest Uncle’s gaze stilled the words on his tongue. Ponderously, Feather Cloak pushed up to her feet. No one moved to help her, until Liath finally stepped toward her but was brought up short by Skull Earrings. The elderly man raised a hand, palm out, to show that she must not aid the pregnant woman who sat in the Eagle Seat.