You still let her die, said Erienne, but her hatred was fading.
We really did have no choice, Cleress's voice pleaded inside her. As a host for the One, Lyanna was doomed, Erienne. And she would have killed us all before she died in torment had we not effected the transfer.
By 'us' you mean the Al-Drechar.
Initially, said Cleress. But you've seen how the One feeds on the elements around it. And you know what the uncontrolled power can do hundreds of miles distant. Before it killed her, the One would have gorged itself further, making the destruction you witnessed seem as nothing.
All right! snapped Erienne.
Transferring the One to you was the only way to stop it but keep it alive.
Yes, I-Erienne broke off, considering for a moment. And what if I hadn't been there to host it?
We would have had to extinguish it, said Cleress, her tone leaden. And we couldn't afford to do that.
Erienne froze, all thought of sleep gone. She opened her eyes and looked down on Denser, still sleeping beside her.
There's something I have to know, she said, fearing the answer. Could you have extinguished the One and kept my daughter alive? Her heart thudded in the silence inside her mind. Could you?
Cleress sighed. It was possible, she said eventually.
Thank you for your honesty, said Erienne, feeling her strength collapse. Now get the fuck out of my head.
Erienne, no-
And take your senile witch sister with you.
Erienne, please-
Get out. Now.
I'm afraid we can't do that, Erienne. It was Myriell, voice strong, with no hint of sympathy.
Erienne felt her mind filling with a fury she had no desire to quell, her grief washing over her again as if Lyanna had died just there and then.
Go. Your touch sickens me. She could barely get her thoughts in order.
It had to be that way, said Myriell.
You let her die for an experiment. She could still be alive. The tears were falling down Erienne's cheeks and her body was rocking where she sat in the bed. She could still be alive.
And countless numbers would now be consigned to death with no one and nothing to save them. This was no experiment.
Don't give me that. You're lying.
First it would have been all the elves, next everyone on Balaia, said Myriell, like she was listing goods on a cart. And we mean everyone.
Go.
We will not.
You're lying. Lyanna died two seasons before the Elfsorrow took its first victim. Erienne couldn't believe what she was hearing. Just what exactly am I supposed to be able to do with this curse inside me? March to Xetesk and take back what they stole with my overwhelming power? Think I'm stupid? You want the One for yourselves. To perpetuate what you have. I'm your legacy and that's all. Don't try and make me into a saviour.
Erienne, you have to listen to me, said Myriell. Will you do that?
I don't appear to have much choice.
Erienne felt used. More like a mere receptacle for the One than a saviour of nations. And helpless with it. Because the One was awakening, and though she wanted the Al-Drechar out of her head she knew she couldn't survive without them. For now, at least.
Please don't think of it like that, urged Cleress, her tone so much softer than her sister's.
How the hell else do you expect me to think? Talk if you must. I'm listening.
Myriell's voice filled her mind once more.
The One opens pathways. Lets you see outlines of possible futures if you know what to look for and if you study for long enough. And we have had all the time in the world to study. There was a sadness to Myriell's voice now, its stridency gone. Before we were even aware of Lyanna, we feared for Balaia. The stress in the mana over the colleges was critical. So much mistrust, so much risk of destructive power being unleashed. And then Lyanna came along as an answer to our prayers. A girl strong in the One can do so much good.
And as we watched the world through the flow of the mana and harmony, we saw more danger signs, more potential for darkness. It was already apparent a crisis of huge proportions was coming. We could almost taste it. But even we were surprised at its scale and swiftness.
Yes, we could possibly have saved Lyanna but the risk in losing the new birth of the One magic was too great. And though we are distraught at the loss of your daughter, we have been proved right. What we see is never certain at the outset but there is always a sense of good or evil, and what we had sensed was so terribly bleak.
Erienne, you must remain strong, you must accept more power and you must remain alive. When the statue of Yniss was bound into the harmony of the elves thousands of years ago, it was done using the One magic. When the fragment is returned, the process must be repeated. We cannot travel to Calaius so you must be our channel. No one else can do that.
I am sorry for the burden this places on you.
Myriell had stopped speaking for some time before the roaring in Erienne's ears died away.
And if you'd chosen to save Lyanna?
Nothing could have saved the elves and finding the thumb would have been futile.
What do I need to learn? said Erienne.
Later. Sleep now. We will withdraw from your conscious mind for a while, let you think in peace.
You're too kind.
I really am sorry, Erienne, said Cleress.
Don't bother, either of you. We'll do what we have to do together but I would advise you never to assume any of my grief. Whatever your reasons, you let her die. You had better be proved right as you claim.
Erienne felt the Al-Drechar fade in the form of a quietness enveloping her mind. They were still there, keeping control of the One entity, but Erienne felt no comfort in that. She felt none of the enormity of what the Al-Drechar had told her. Maybe that would come when she had time to consider it. One thing she did know was that it wouldn't change the way she acted with The Raven. And the first thing she had to do was tell them.
She looked down at Denser, wondering whether to wake him but finding she didn't have to. He was lying there looking up at her, a frown creasing his forehead. He reached out a hand and rubbed her lower back.
'What is it, love?'
Erienne opened her mouth to speak but instead a wave of sorrow broke over her. It was a long time before she was able to tell him what was wrong. Auum sniffed the air of his first dawn on Balaia and didn't care for it much. It was dry and chill, without the mists he was used to, the growing heat or the ever-present threat of rain followed by the glorious cleansing downpour. He felt exposed without the closeness of the trees, and though the landscape he looked at was green and healthy, to Auum it looked blasted. His sharp eyes recoiled at the brightness of the dawn in which he could see rolling plains, a range of mountains far smaller than those now behind them, and a collection of dwellings, fenced and still.
A wind blew above the Tai where they sat, backs to a low rise, a fire in front of them, rabbits roasting on spits above the flames. They'd travelled quickly the afternoon before, Rebraal's descriptions and the position of the sun providing the information they needed. They knew what they were looking for. Their path was to travel north and east, past the Balan Mountains they currently faced, track to the west of a forest known as Thornewood, and then head north-east to pick up the trail which connected the port of Arlen in the far south with the college cities in the north.
There were signs that all was not well on Balaia. Rebraal had told them the land was fertile if bleak and open, with great swathes of evergreen and deciduous forest punctuating the rolling landscape. However, all they had seen so far were stunted boughs and some new growth as if, years before, a great hand had swatted the trees flat. They had also passed a hamlet late the evening before. It had been deserted, the buildings wrecked and stripped of timbers.