"Forty thousand people, gone in the blink of an eye. And Tenrathlar was in what had been the most stable region. We could feel the power of the Blight expand, though it was no longer visible to us, and realised our peril. Wild magic now ate away the foundations of Sar-Ibis. The breaking of Sar-Ibis, that unspeakable sacrifice, had made matters worse. Those who knew well the land’s humours made their judgment. Even if we could eradicate the Blight that very moment, Sar-Ibis was beyond saving. We must leave or fall with it into the waves.
"Even with the enhancement of every rahlstone in the kiereddas, a gate such as we used would not ordinarily be within our power. Not one we could hold open long enough for every Ibis-lar to travel through. But with wild magic loose, our reserves replenished almost as quickly as we could cast, so it was possible, though a massive undertaking.
"What we have brought with us is far outweighed by what was impossible to shift, what we could not reach, and what was forgotten. And there was a difficulty which overwhelmed all other considerations: the Blight. If it had spread to the foundations of our island, it could travel across the ocean floor. If it travelled beneath the ocean, then there would be no point in fleeing to another land only to watch it also be consumed."
"Is Farakkan in danger?" Kedy had asked immediately, as was his duty. The Kerikath had shaken her head.
"No. The Kierash-that-was made a final attempt to stop the Blight. A desperate gamble. Even as the last few thousands were hurrying through the gates, he went to Desana, a mountain rapidly becoming an island, and attempted a great conjuration. He drew all that was power to himself." Selai had looked down. "Such a thing would kill any mage, and we could see the pyre of his destruction even as we struggled to maintain gates which were no longer fuelled by wild magic. He succeeded. The last few of us, escaping through gates originating from this land, witnessed the final wreck of Sar-Ibis, and there was nothing of wild magic in that devastation, only the trembling of rootless earth."
Medair had felt impossibly sorry for the Ibisians, as their new teacher had finished her tale. Then they had been summoned back to the throne room, and Kier Ieskar had declared war. It was little comfort for Medair to reflect that black denans had not survived. That they, unlike the Ibis-lar, had not taken root in Farak’s breast.
Chapter Ten
A fort on a hostile border would always be a place of precautions and watches, but the current situation called for more. Avahn, taking Medair about Finrathlar’s valley, trailed her past numerous drills of militia. Preparations for war. She had thought their entry into the city had gone unremarked, but watching other travellers challenged made her realise that Cor-Ibis' party had been recognised and allowed through unhindered. He was, after all, its Lord.
Everyone Avahn met asked after Cor-Ibis' health, for the adept had finally given into dramatic necessity and developed a fever. Although only mild, it had kept him to his rooms for the past five days and convinced all Finrathlar he was at death’s door. Avahn obviously relished the poorly concealed dismay of the Finrathe dignitaries who came to pay their respects to him as Cor-Ibis' proxy. His appointment as the Keridahl’s heir was truly not popular, and with rumours about his cousin’s health running riot many were finally considering the prospect of Keridahl Avahn las Cor-Ibis seriously.
Avahn made sure they went away with their preconceptions confirmed. His pose of feckless disinterest in anything resembling a solemn issue by turns infuriated and shocked them, though none ventured to criticise him to his face.
"Did you grow up here?" Medair asked, as he took her out of the city to show her some of the look-out points among the circling hills. The way he talked about Finrathlar revealed a deep-seated affection for the place.
"As good as," Avahn replied. "Yearly visits when I was very young, and after Amaret we were practically shackled to my esteemed cousin."
"We?"
"Oh, all the potential heirs. Our doting parents weren’t about to risk another twig of the great family gaining prominence in Cor-Ibis' eyes. Excuses were found for all of us to spend much of the year thrusting ourselves in his way. My parents took a house…" He stopped, turned in the saddle and indicated an area of Finrathlar a short distance from The Avenue. "We wintered here, dined with him as often as permitted." Avahn’s mouth compressed, then he shrugged. "There isn’t a place like Finrathlar anywhere else in the world," he continued, stroking his gelding’s neck. "Maybe it’s the size, or the Cor-Ibis presence, as folk say. Whatever the cause, Finrathlar’s clean and beautiful and safe, with adventure just beyond the hills. Probably it is just that I did, as you say, grow up here, but despite being a fortress on a border, this is still the most peaceful place I know. This is Sar-Ibis, remade."
Medair considered him: precisely dressed, handsome. A White Snake who loved a Palladium made to resemble Sar-Ibis. "When did you decide to stop competing?"
Avahn flashed her a sharp, amused look. "You’ve been talking to Ileaha. Be assured that my true nature was revealed early. Surreive was always thought to hold his favour. The jewel of the family, truly the ideal heir."
Smiling, he took her up to the crest of the hill to show her the walls which stretched around the outer slopes of the valley. It had always been a very defensible area, but the Ibisians had reinforced the natural features to make it near-impregnable. Avahn pointed out a squat barracks building incorporated into the wall.
"I won’t say it’s impossible to get a force into Finrathlar without the entire valley rushing to the defence, but an invader would need to know a few well-guarded secrets to manage to take us by surprise."
Nodding, Medair glanced back across the valley to where the Imperial base had been. Damp and unpleasant, but a haven when those bandits had made such pests of themselves. Belatedly, she noticed Avahn’s stillness. He was staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, swiftly veiled when she turned. The base could only be one of those well-guarded secrets and now he was suspicious and alert. She had hoped this ride would allow her to gently pursue such interesting topics as "the Hold" and "the purists", and she’d just made the task doubly difficult.
Cursing herself, Medair ignored his sudden withdrawal as if she had no comprehension of what she or he may well have revealed. "After Amaret," she repeated, blandly. "What was Amaret? Some sort of battle?"
He laughed, startled, and shook his head. The smile returned to his lips, but the watchfulness did not leave his eyes. "It’s sometimes difficult to remember that you claim only the vaguest knowledge of society. Keris Amaret was Cor-Ibis' wife."
So Medair had guessed. "She died then? I don’t understand why he would need to take an heir from his cousins. Did he swear undying loyalty to her memory or something?"
"Not many people would be able to say that with a straight face, unless they truly were ignorant of the truth. No, Keris Amaret left him, and he certainly didn’t regret her going. I was young when they wed and don’t know if they ever even liked each other. It was only a sha-leon marriage after all. A political alliance. But the end was enough to put anyone off marriage in general."
"I must be misremembering what I know of Ibisian society. I thought marriage was no more required for the getting of heirs than it is in any other land."
Avahn shrugged and nudged his gelding to a few slow steps. "What do you know of the previous Keridahl Cor-Ibis?" he asked.
"She was this one’s mother," Medair replied, promptly.