"I thank you, Shikrar," he said. "I will speak with you again as soon as I have learned their fate."
"Fly well and join us when you can," I said.
I had known both Urishhak and Roccelis for many years, and never in all that time had I bespoken them and received no answer from either. I understood the need of their kinsman to seek for them, to know for certain, but in my own heart I knew that they were gone. I was very slightly consoled by the thought that at least those two, best of friends, went forth together, and as they never even cried out they must have died very swiftly indeed.
I found it increasingly difficult to think in the face of the high screech that seemed never to end. The air, as well, was now hazy and full of something that made many of us cough. It was time to go, but there was one thing left that must be done.
"Who keeps the Weh?" I called out as loud as I could. The question was echoed round the field, and two names came back to me through Trizhe.
"Eldest, there are two who keep the Weh, Gyrentikh and Nikis."
"Has anyone tried to rouse them?"
"Not that I know of."
"You are kin to Gyrentikh, are you not?"
"Distantly," said Trizhe, and unexpectedly he grinned. "Though I cannot think I would have fought and laughed with a brother any harder."
"Then call him. Do everything in your power to shatter his Weh sleep," I said fervently. "He took to his Weh chambers some moons since, did he not?"
"Nearly three moons past, Eldest."
"He is young, mat should be long enough. Go then, swiftly, stand at his ear and shout if you have to, but wake him!"
"I go," he said, though he looked a little dazed as he took to the air.
I cried out again, thankful for strong lungs and the silence of shock that most of us were in. "Who here is soulfriend to Nikis?" I asked.
Dhretan, little Dhretan stepped forward. He was the next youngest of us all, last born before my own grandson and barely come of age at just over five hundred winters. He bowed to me, very correctly. I could not help but smile.
"Eldest Shikrar, I have that honour. I am soulfriend to Nikis," he said.
"May I bespeak you?"
"Of course," he replied.
"There is no time for niceties. Understand, Dhretan, I would not break your faith with Nikis, but her life is in danger if we cannot wake her from her Weh sleep. Know you where her Weh chamber is?"
He looked terribly awkward at me question, as well he might. Unlike the Gedri, we grow larger throughout our lives—I am the largest of the Kantri as well as the Eldest. When our bodies feel the need to grow we are taken by the Weh sleep with very little warning, sometimes a day or two, sometimes only hours. We each have separate Weh chambers, far from our own living chambers, where we go to rest alone. Our old scales flake off and burn to ash, and as we sleep the soft new armour hardens slowly over several months, allowing us to grow without hindrance for that time. In the depths of the Weh sleep we cannot be awakened,
and any of our kind who stay near the sleeper are affected and will slumber as well. Therefore we must keep the Weh far from others, and as we are so vulnerable we tend to keep the location of our Weh chambers secret from all save perhaps a mate, or a soulfriend. That secret is given to be kept, not revealed.
"Dhretan, if it were not a question of saving her life you know I would not presume. For her sake I beg you, take me to her Weh chamber. The two of us will go and between us try to wake her or—or perhaps we shall attempt the impossible, and try to carry her here."
Dhretan's astonishment showed clearly, but he had no choice.
"I will take you, Eldest," he said.
"I thank you. My soul to the Winds, Dhretan, you serve your friend well in this."
Before we left, I summoned Idai and Kretissh. Idai was eldest after me, and Kretissh after her.
"My friends, there is not a moment to lose," I replied. "I go with Dhretan to waken Nikis, if it may be done, and to bring her here if that is possible. I must leave all else with you. There are five casks fashioned of khaadish outside my chambers, and within them are the soulgems of our Ancestors. Find bearers for them, of your kindness—I had meant to carry the soulgems of the Lost myself, but I may have a greater burden. And I pray you, send another dozen of the swiftest to collect hlansif trees, or seedlings, or whatever they can find. Kedra has thought it best that we arrive with gifts, and he has the right of it."
"Arrive where, Shikrar?" asked Kretissh, and around him the question was repeated. "Where do we go? Where is there to go?"
"There is no choice, my people," I said. "We must return to Kolmar."
"No!" cried a great voice, and I was not overly surprised to recognise it as Rinshir's. "Are we to beg house-room of the Gedri, Shikrar? The last time we lived there a single
Gedri killed fully half of us for no reason! Are we then to return and let them complete the task?"
"Please, Rinshir," I said as calmly as I could, fighting back the anger that rose at his words. "I know your objections, but it is not as if we have a choice."
"Alas, my father speaks truth, Rinshir," said Kedra. "Not only did our revered Ancestor Keakhor tell us that there was nowhere else to go; I have set out early and returned only when the light failed, sometimes flying for two long days before I turned back, most days of the last two moons." He bowed his head. "My people, there is nothing but barren rock, and little enough of that, for many days in any direction save east. There I found a small green island at the limit of two days' flight. It is barely the size of this field but there is a pool there with sweet water, and room enough to stand. We may at least rest there on our way."
"Shikrar, I still do not—" began Rinshir, but I was done with patience.
"You fool!" I cried, standing in Command. "Our doom shakes the very ground beneath our feet and you waste time on talk. Go then, fly from the fate the Winds place before you, fly south or north or west until your strength fails and the cold sea claims you, but do not hinder those of us who wish to live!"
"My people," I continued, raising my voice to carry, "Kol-mar was our home for many long lives of our people before we chose exile on this island. I was born here, we all were, and all the lives of our parents before us were passed in this place, but before that we shared Kolmar with the Gedri for all the mingled lives of both our peoples. This very island we named the place of exile. My people, our exile is done. We are going home."
"Very good, well said. I think they have understood it at last," muttered Idai in my ear, "but unless you get moving no one else is going to raise a wing." I crouched and prepared to go aloft, but Idai stood directly before me for a moment and addressed me silently. "And precisely how do you intend to waken Nikis? You know that the Weh affects all who go too near the one who sleeps."
"Idai, that was proven true by one who sat outside a cavern in the sunshine. I suspect there will be enough to think about to keep me wakeful." I replied. "Still, I would be grateful if you would bespeak me every few minutes, lest the Weh take me unawares."
"Humph. So you do have some sense after all," she said roughly. Her words in truespeech were far kinder. "Go carefully, my friend. We are beset with dangers, and of us all we can least bear to lose you."
"I shall take good care of this old hide." I replied lightly. "Go with the Winds, and get you aloft with as many as will follow you as soon as you can," I said aloud. "Do not wait for me, Idai. Get aloft, fly high, find the air currents if they are there to be found. East and a little south. Kedra knows the way."
I turned to Dhretan. "Let us go," I said, and leapt into the air.
"Eldest, a question," said Dhretan as we flew.
"Nearly youngest, an answer if I have one," I said, trying to keep my tone light. He was very young, after all.