"These circumstances warrant flexibility. Speak freely."
"Were you one of those who chanted during my time in the viewing chamber?"
"Yes. I was."
"Do you know both sides of the harmony?"
"Actually, I do. I learned only one part at first, but when you did not return, we had to be creative, and I ended up learning the other part as well. What are you thinking?"
"Could you teach the crew how to perform the chant?"
"I suppose I could," Brother Vaughn said, thoughtful. "I don't know if it will work without the stone chair… or the special chambers. I don't know."
"We could try," Catrin said firmly.
"We could try," he conceded. "But I'm still not certain it will be safe."
After gathering the off-duty members of both crews, Brother Vaughn instructed them on the chants. He taught them both parts as a precaution. Catrin, though, did not attend the sessions, afraid knowing the individual parts too well would somehow affect her ability to perceive it as a whole rather than the sum of its parts.
"Are you certain you want to try this, li'l miss? We almost lost you under the best of conditions. Trying from out here could be deadly."
"I can think of no other way to find the Firstland. We could sail for the rest of our lives and not find it. I will at least make an attempt."
"I suppose you're right."
Rolph Tillerman packed the last few items into the wagon that would take him away from his home, away from the place where he, his father, and his grandfather had been born and raised. Most of the items packed were for practical reasons, but a few were purely for sentimental purposes-he simply could not leave his entire past behind. Collette did what she could to hide her tears, but he could feel her pain as if it were his own. She had married him here and raised their children here.
Only Jessub seemed excited about the prospect of their journey, and at times, it seemed only his enthusiasm kept Rolph and Collette moving. Under any other circumstances, they would have stayed, but the choice had been taken from them. Hampered by injuries and his advancing age, Rolph had been unable to plant enough crops to keep them fed, and when it looked as if most of what he planted would succumb to pests and disease, he knew what he had to do. Others, too, could no longer afford to remain, and what had once been a thriving community now looked to be in its final days. Rolph knew that the others would help him if they could, but no one was in a position to do anything beyond survive, and it seemed they would need a great deal of luck to do that. Luck seemed one of the many things that were in short supply, and Rolph would not risk Collette's or Jessub's life on it. Instead, he would take an equally daunting risk, and he wondered if he were making a mistake.
Jessub appeared from behind the barn, dirty and scraped as usual.
"Come on, Jessub," Collette said. "We've got to go now, an' look at ya. Yer a boilin' mess, and you've torn yer last good pair o' breeches. Git up here this instant!"
"I'm comin', Gramma," Jessub said, his smile never wavering. "I just had to git my knife from the loft."
Rolph shook his head. He'd been hesitant to give the boy a knife for fear that he'd lop off his own thumbs just to see what it felt like. In all his years, he'd never seen a boy as inquisitive and rambunctious as Jessub, save maybe himself at that age. With one final look at his home and a squeeze on the shoulder from Collette, he chirruped and smacked the lines on Elmheart's rump. A new journey had begun.
In the deckhouse, they gathered. Hastily constructed partitions divided the room only in spirit. Facing the open door, Catrin looked out at the blue sky; clouds like salmon scales forecasted wind, but she was determined. Three times already Brother Vaughn had found reasons not to proceed, but she could wait no more.
"Now is the time. Please begin," she pleaded.
"Are you certain, li'l miss?"
"I am."
At first, the disjointed chanting seemed nothing like what she had experienced at Ohmahold, but then the two groups found synchronicity, and the harmony meshed. Wooden containers used as drums provided the bass. The vibrations were not as deep, but they resonated within the deckhouse.
Closing her eyes, Catrin rode the vibration and drew a trickle of energy, when she opened her eyes, she flew into the blue sky, free of her mortal shroud. In a moment of sheer bliss, she rolled and danced on the wind, lighter than a feather.
Determined not to waste the opportunity, she flew across the water, faster than the wind, casting her senses in every direction, drawing more and more power as a result. In a trancelike state, she flew, searching for land with all her senses. Then, in a moment of clarity, she realized that all she had to do was search for life and she would most likely find land.
At first, all she found were large, fast-moving sea creatures, but then she began to sense rivers of life flowing toward one place. When she moved over one of these shimmering rivers, she saw schools of migrating fish. Farther ahead, she found land. Tiny at first, it grew so quickly that Catrin could hardly believe her speed. What had first appeared to be one landmass was really a series of many small islands. On one, carved into the face of a massive cliff, was a familiar but foreign image: a man and a woman sharing an embrace. Except these figures were nothing like Istra and Vestra; they had large, round eyes and broad noses. They wore strange clothing and even stranger headdresses.
Despite the embrace, one of the man's arms was extended, pointing… to the Firstland; the woman pointed back to the Greatland. Exhilarated, Catrin prepared to return, but when she turned around, she made a terrifying discovery. Unlike her trip from the viewing chamber, no trail of energy extended back to her body.
Trying to gauge the direction from which she had come, she realized how dire her situation really was. If she was off by even the slightest amount, given the distance she had covered, she would have very little chance of finding the ships.
Desperation gripped her as she made her best guess and applied her will to speed. Only the chance of spotting the giant mountain or the shallows kept her from losing all hope. Homogenous waves slid past, only occasional whitecaps breaking the monotony. Unable to accurately judge her speed, she had to be ever watchful, lest she fly right past them.
Weariness set in, and she could no longer extend her senses because it took all her energy just to continue moving. The waves moved ever slower past until she moved no faster than a ship, and she began to lose hope.
You must come.
The intense feeling brought Catrin from her stupor. Rather than words in her mind, this was more like overwhelming emotion, pouring into her, bolstering her, and she began moving a little faster. Still, she struggled to remain focused, feeling as if she were diffusing, like a drop of extract in water.
Do not despair.
Again, Catrin realized she was losing concentration. It would be so easy to just fall asleep, to let herself dissolve away, to become one with all creation.
I need you. You must free me. You must.
The emotional intrusions annoyed her, disturbing her rest. She was so tired and wanted only to sleep a while longer. A wave of desperate need washed over her, overwhelming her, and she was flooded with the hope that someone would come. Someone would end the agony and despair. Someone.
Catrin. Catrin. Catrin.
When her eyes opened, it was a shock. Her body demanded breath, and she sucked in air. Her limbs would not respond, and when she saw Benjin take her hand, it did not look like her own; her skin was ashen with a bluish tint. For the moment, breathing was paramount.
"This is crazy," Gustad said as Milo stood his shoulders, scraping bat droppings from the walls of a massive shaft that was filled with bats. Nearly fifty miles south of Ohmahold, they had covered the entire distance underground, never leaving the ancient mine complex. Several times Gustad had feared they were hopelessly lost, but they did manage to find the place indicated on their map.