Tal awoke in sudden panic, Red light on his face, fresh air in his nostrils, and a terrible headache throbbing above his eyes. Crow was stirring at his side, but there was no sign of Adras.

Or of the enemy Spiritshadows.

Tal looked at his Sunstone. Over an hour had passed. They were very lucky the veil had unraveled when it did. Judging by how terrible he felt, another few minutes would probably have asphyxiated them.

A low groan came from the other side of Crow. Tal crawled over and stared aghast at the tiny, shriveled shadow that was all that remained of Adras.

"Light!" whimpered the mere dab of darkness that was about the size of Tal's foot. "Light!"

There was plenty of Red light around, but Tal lowered his Sunstone, shielded it with his hand, and directed a bright beam of light matched to the color of Aenir's sun upon his stricken Spiritshadow.

Slowly, the shadow thickened and began to spread out across the stones. As it grew, Tal's headache lessened.

He was so intent upon revitalizing Adras that he didn't notice Crow had recovered, too, until the Freefolk boy was standing next to him. He had the Keystone raised almost to his chin and was whispering to it.

"Lokar says there is a secret stair that starts two levels below," he said to Tal. Obviously he had decided to ignore what had gone on inside the miniature Veil. "If we can climb down to it, she can guide us through the traps. It comes out…"

He listened to the Keystone again and continued, "It comes out in a White Corridor, between Red One and Orange Seven. It shouldn't be too hard to get from there to an Underfolk store and then back to my domain."

Tal nodded, though he secretly flinched at Crow calling any part of the Castle "his domain." If there was anything he had learned since his fall to the world outside, it was the importance of keeping his mouth shut until the time was right.

"Weak," said Adras. He had regained his usual form, but his shadowflesh was almost transparent, barely visible.

"He will be slow to recover," said Crow, repeating Lokar's words. "You must give him light for as long as you can, and lots of it before we go through the Veil proper."

Tal nodded. "Where are the Spiritshadows?" he asked. "Can you see any?" "I guess they've gone back into their hidey-holes,"

said Crow. "At least I couldn't see any when I looked over the side."

"They're there somewhere," said Tal. "Hiding. Waiting. I would like to know what for."

Crow shrugged. That was a problem for another time. He had what he'd come for. He tucked the Keystone carefully into a slim leather pouch he wore on a chain around his neck.

"Come on," he said, as he carefully climbed over the railing. "Stay close. You might need to make another veil. But we'd better be able to breathe in the next one."

Tal watched Crow go over. He was more suspicious than ever about Crow. It was clear the Freefolk boy only wanted him around for what he could do. Crow hated the Chosen so much that he wouldn't hesitate to get rid of Tal if he thought he was of no more use.

The worst thing about it, Tal thought sadly, was that he couldn't really blame Crow. He had a lot to hate the Chosen for.

"Adras," he said, raising his hand, "wrap around my Sunstone and arm, and get as much light as you can."

Adras nodded, too weak to boom a reply. Tal felt him move onto his arm, a cool touch that made the hair on his skin prickle with small lightning bolts. His Sunstone dimmed as Adras covered it, though the light still blazed under the shadow.

Tal climbed over the railing and gingerly felt for a foothold.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Milla stood in the Hall of the Reckoner, the Mother Crone at her side. Both looked down at the complex puzzle of hundreds of tiles and models that depicted the entire world of the Ice and the Icecarl clan-ships that moved upon it. Shield Maiden cadets moved across the huge map, moving the ship models, and, less frequently, exchanging the tiles that told of the quality and condition of the Ice. Seven Crones, seated on tall chairs of woven bone, directed the cadets.

When Milla had last seen the Reckoner, the clan-ships of the Icecarls had been spread all over the world, in no apparent pattern. Now there were clumps of ships forming at various parts of the maps. As Milla watched, a Crone summoned a Shield Maiden cadet and spoke to her. The young girl listened, then stepped lightly across the tiles to one of the gatherings of ships and selected one of the smallest, that had a Sunstone chip set in its prow. This ship she picked up and moved to an adjacent tile.

Milla noticed it was moving toward the tile at the center of the Reckoner, a tile that had the model of a mountain upon it, and a miniature Ruin Ship at its side.

"Yes," said the Mother Crone. "The clans are gathering where they may, and one ship in every seven is bringing all the Shield Maidens and hunters the clans can spare from following the Selski. We have summoned the Sword-Thanes, too, though they do not appear upon the Reckoner, and we cannot know how many will be able to answer the call or will choose to."

Milla nodded. It was all a bit much for her. She had been cast out, reborn as Milla Talon-Hand, and named War-Chief only that morning. Now everyone expected her to take charge and do whatever had to be done to take over the Castle, force the Chosen to give up their Spiritshadows, and then to… she didn't know what… cross over to Aenir and do the Forgetting all over again?

"The ships will come as quickly as they can," the Mother Crone was saying. "Yet it will be many sleeps before the full host is gathered. Is it your wish, War-Chief, that the Shield Maidens and hunters we have here be gathered for an initial attack upon the Castle, to secure the passage into it?"

"Um, yes," Milla replied.

The Mother Crone smiled, a smile so brief Milla nearly missed it. The Crone wasn't really asking her, Milla realized. She was helping her work out what to do, but making it look like she was in charge of the military detail. Though everyone knew both she and Odris had to do what the Crones told them.

"Yes," Milla said more firmly. "Let them prepare. I will lead them out after the main sleep. I need… I need to rest a little."

"They will be ready," answered the Mother Crone. "Before you go to rest, War-Chief, I would have you meet Malen. She is the youngest of the Crones, and so best suited for the arduous task of accompanying you on this first attack."

Before the Mother Crone finished speaking, a young Crone stepped through the curtains of the door and approached. She was young, Milla saw. Blue-eyed, as all beginning Crones were, with a luminosity in the blue. But she didn't look much older than sixteen circlings, hardly older than Milla. She felt a stab of jealousy in her heart. This Icecarl girl had found her place without trouble, Milla thought. She was not constrained by the Prayer of Asteyr, an untrustworthy but necessary evil the Icecarls were prepared to put up with due only to the greater danger that threatened them.

"I greet you, War-Chief Milla Talon-Hand," said Malen. She clubbed her fists together, as did Milla.

Even her voice was perfect, thought Milla. She had a clear, bell-like voice, perfect for singing or chanting the old epics. Everyone must have loved her in her clan, and now they would be so proud of her, a Crone at so young an age.

"I will come with you as the Voice of the Crones," said Malen.

Milla nodded. That was even worse. When Malen wanted to, she could speak with the authority of all the Crones and Milla, bound by the Prayer, would have to do what she said.

Unless she told Milla, Milla wouldn't know if Lornir wasn't connecting with the other Crones, or speaking only for herself.

For a moment Milla considered asking the Mother Crone if someone else, someone older and more experienced, could come with her as the Voice of the Crones. But she didn't.

"We leave immediately after main sleep," said Milla briskly. "I must rest now. Come, Odris."

All the Shield Maiden cadets in the room clubbed their fists as Milla left, but she noticed many seemed reluctant to do so. The Crones had made her War-Chief, but it was not as easy as that. She would

have to earn the respect of the cadets and the Shield Maidens and the hunters and Sword-Thanes who would come.

She would also have to work out how to get through the bad air of the heatways, counter Chosen Sunstone magic, and secure the way from Mountain to Castle in order to bring in reinforcements once she had established a foothold in the Underfolk levels. Then there were the Underfolk themselves to consider, and the likelihood of Ebbitt, Jarnil, and the Freefolk aiding the Icecarls or turning against them.

And there was Tal. Milla wondered what he was doing, and whether he had been successful in gaining the Keystone. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to succeed or fail. If Tal did get the Keystone and somehow managed to turn the Chosen against Sushin and the free shadows, he might be able to secure the veil. But knowing him as she did, she was sure he would not want to send all the Chosen's Spiritshadows back to Aenir.

So he would be an enemy and there was only one absolutely sure way to deal with an enemy.

Kill them before they killed you.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The climb down was nerve-racking. Both Tal and Crow expected to meet hostile Spiritshadows at any moment. Every flicker of light startled them and sometimes that was enough to make them almost slip or lose their grip. Then they would have another pang of fear as they nearly fell off.

But no Spiritshadows came out of the Tower, and they made it safely down to the window that Lokar had described to Crow. Climbing through that, they found the secret stair. It was a very narrow stairway, hidden within the thick wall of the Tower. Anyone much larger than Crow could easily get stuck.

There were also frequent traps. Crow had to take the Keystone out of his pouch and hold it close to his ear, listening to Lokar's instructions as he kept up a running commentary to describe to her where they were.

The worst trap was where a rack of razor-edged cleavers swung out across the stairway. The cleavers were positioned at knee, stomach, and neck height, Lokar said. The trap was triggered by treading anywhere but the very center of each of six steps. With every one Tal expected to trip, to hear the "snick" of the mechanism, and then feel the sudden bite of the cleavers.

Somehow he made it through.

Tal followed Crow closely, not trusting the Freefolk boy to tell him about the traps. He figured if he stayed close he would be safe.

Tags: Garth Nix The Seventh Tower Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net