“War may come to Cloffi, and if that happens, I believe that all the Children of Ynell, even you two, will die or be taken captive for the use of the Kubalese.
“On the day of Market, it was Kearb-Mattus who alerted the Deacons that I might be a menace, who encouraged them to drive me out at once. He trusts me no less[more?] than I trust him.”
Zephy thought of the gold coin hidden on the black goat, of the game of search-and-seek in the alley, and all at once she saw clearly the answer to the questions that had puzzled her. “He is searching for them!” She cried. “Kearb-Mattus is searching out the Children of Ynell!”
Anchorstar nodded.
“But he—but he . . .” she swallowed, and felt sick. “Three children have died in Burgdeeth. He has killed them!” She stared at Anchorstar. Meatha had gone white.
“No,” Anchorstar said softly, “Kearb-Mattus had killed no child.”
“But he . . . Nia Skane is dead! And the two little boys who drowned. They were all children who . . . bright children, different children! How can you . . .” her disappointment at Anchorstar flared too quickly.
He remained calm, his expression steady and appraising. “Not dead,” he repeated at last. “They were taken.” He banked the fire and poured wine from the flagon into pewter mugs.
“But I saw her body, Nia’s body, and the little boys—”
“Only taken,” he repeated. “They were made to seem dead, they were viewed as dead in the ceremonies, white as death with the drug MadogWerg that the Kubalese keep.”
Zephy remembered Nia’s white face. Surely it had been death she had looked upon. Then she remembered the hunting party in the street the night of Nia’s funeral, remembered Kearb-Mattus’s dark figure pulling the cape over something tied behind his saddle.
Anchorstar saw her thoughts and nodded. ‘Taken,” he repeated softly. “Made captive, prisoner for the uses of the Kubalese.”
“What kind of use?” She breathed, sweating with sudden fear. “And where? Where are they?”
“I do not know where. It is part of the work to be done, to find them. The mind drug is so potent that the children seem truly as dead, their minds inactive. No other Child of Ynell, seeking them out in their thoughts, has been able to sense the slightest hint of them. But I am certain they are alive. The Kubalese value the Children. They fear them, yes, as spies against Kubal. But they value them, too, as spies on their own side, if they can, with drugs and mind-forming, make the Children twisted in their thoughts so their allegiance is to Kubal alone.”
“That is what they want,” Thorn said. “That is what you have traveled across Ere to prevent. Spies. Faithful, mind-twisted spies.”
“But how can they!” Meatha breathed. “How can they make the Children—even with drugs . . . 1 wouldn’t, I never would spy for Kubal!”
“The youngest children will,” Anchorstar answered. “Those who can be made to believe untruths about Kubal, just as children are made to believe untruths about the Luff’Eresi by the Temple training in Cloffi. It is easy to train a young child’s mind into falsehood if you take time and skill with it and have nothing to counteract the training. The drugs will prevent their knowing the Kubalese intent until it is too late even for the Children of Ynell, until there has been subtle damage to their minds, so that they learn to love the corrupt. A Child of Ynell can be turned to evil just as anyone else can, can be made to lust after falsehood and evil, and desire to control others with his skill; never doubt it. But it would be difficult indeed to train you older ones, if you are strong-minded. Not without a good deal subtler effort than the Kubalese are prepared to put forth. The young ones are more malleable, and the young ones’ own passions can betray them. The young ones, and those older ones who are weak. Kearb-Mattus wants only the Children who can be made to want to use their powers for Kubal. He does not want you, you three are a threat to the Kubalese plans, if indeed Kearb-Mattus knows what your talents are.” He sighed and laid a hand on Meatha’s hair as if he, as Tra. Hoppa, found her delicacy and beauty a source of sadness.
“I believe the Kubalese will not attack Burgdeeth until all the young Children of Ynell have been taken by Kearb-Mattus. Though the last one or two might be taken at the very beginning of the attack. I would think that only a few are left in Burgdeeth even now.”
“But how can Meatha and I get them away?” Zephy said. Then she saw Meatha frozen into that inner speaking. Zephy paused and delved deep into the silence, into the voiceless words; and she saw the tunnel. Meatha was showing Anchorstar the tunnel that ran beneath Burgdeeth.
She understood that the Children could be taken there, hidden there until the small hours of darkness when they could be led away to meet Anchorstar beyond the house-gardens. Yes, perhaps it could be done. If only their talent for seeing were stronger. And then she saw the stone, lying in its niche, and she knew they had the power. The power was there, the stone was the key, the weapon that would strengthen their talents. Meatha showed it to Anchorstar, and his exaltation was great, his look intense as he examined the experience they had had with it; the vision Zephy shared with Thorn now, so he was there with her seeing the gods, feeling the immensity of space and of light.
Then Anchorstar’s voice rang deep in their minds, as a prophecy would ring, and Zephy knew he spoke the words he had spoken to Thorn on the mountain when first he came into Cloffi.
I seek a lost runestone, a stone of such power that the true gift would come strong in one who held it. Found by the light of one candle, carried in a searching, and lost in terror. Found in wonder, given twice, and accompanying a quest and a conquering . . . And the time to wield that power may be soon, for there are rumors across the land. . . .
Zephy stared at Thorn and felt, a chill touch her, of fear and of anticipation. They stood looking at each other, linked, shaken, lifted into a dimension that exalted and terrified her.
Part Three: Fire Scourge
From The Covenants of Cloffi, Book of Fire.
There shall be five days of worship at Harvest. On the fifth day, the last Worship of Fire Scourge shall be conducted under the full moons. The fields shall flame unto the sky, and the people shall turn their faces upward. We will see your flaming prayer, and we will judge your worthiness. You shall kneel down before the fire. You shall give the gods proof of your willing destruction of the earthly and unworthy. You shall show your innocence.
Only the innocent will be granted absolution. The guilty will burn for all time at the fires of Urdd lit by the Luff’Eresi to cleanse evil from the hearts of mortals.
TWELVE
“You were not in the west field,” Feill Wellick said. He stood over them, cold as winter. They looked back innocently, trying to hide their apprehension. “You were not in the west field all day, not since early morning. Where were you?”
“There were too many,” Zephy said. “When the other girls came, the line was so long the wagons couldn’t keep up with us so we went to the north field, we . . .” His expression cut her short. She stared up at him, her heart like lead.
“No one saw you in the north field.”