“Bait, please pay attention.”
The little girl was a pile of ashy curls and black furs, head turned sharply into the wind, snub nose red and defiant. Here was the end of the far north, a tortured rocky plain crumbling into uncounted crevices. The mountains ahead did not loom, but shrugged tiredly upward to the white sky. They were old, worn, splattered here and there with gnarled and tenacious trees.
*It’s ugly. It’s all ugly, and it’s making me ugly too,* thought Bait, but swiveled her head to stare at her mother, the only spot of warmth in this wasteland.
Despite the dull sun, the cold, Shena was smiling, wearing little more than scraps of hand-dyed sienna linen. Her skin vibrant and golden, dusted with flakes of mica, had long ago become immune to the endless chill. She had still bundled her daughter up in thick pelts until Bait could barely shuffle along the worn pathways in the plateau. Nothing unnatural was permitted in the summoning. Bait often wondered if *she* could be considered unnatural.
“I would like it if you learned to love this place,” Shena said, long fingers tracing careful marks on a fat flake of shale.
“It’s horrible and cold and there’s nothing here.”
“The beauty is below the surface. Someday, I’ll take you through the caverns of blue crystal and the tunnels of molten gold. When your power comes, we’ll have to visit the heart of the earth, where stone turns to liquid and the greatest lords live. They will like that Shena’s blood has come to pay court.”
Her mother dropped the stone into a nearby crevice, crouched and waited. The Brown Woman was the keeper of Making magic in the north, had turned her interests to the wild depths of the earth, shaped stone and gem with thought itself. She was dense, imposing, thick thighs, firm breasts, taller than all men, a heavy blanket of shining brown hair resting against her back. Her arms were as thick as Bait’s waist and it was often wondered how the willowy, washed-out daughter would manage the strength needed to deal with the elemental lords that moved below the mountains.
One of which was approaching. The ground rippled, as smoothly as a pebble in a pond and Bait tasted bile. She did as her mother had told her, to stand as if rooted, to take not a step or make a noise. In the presence of the lords, vibration became magic.
Slow, languid, the earth split as if sighing, a pillar of brilliant quicksilver rising high above them. The wind died, the sun dimmed, all was a fog of gray that hummed and shivered with the reflections of the lord.
Bait’s eyes flickered from the pillar to her mother, watching the shining waves of a greeting move along the lord’s body. Shena slapped a hand against the ground, puffs of dust curling around her wrist. The conversation would proceed in this fashion, dance and drumming rhythm shared between summoner and summoned. Later, Bait would translate for her brother, trying to approximate the subtle motions of the lord with her hands.
“She asked for a servant to help her get to the top of the mountains at the end of summer since the recent earthquake had ruined the old path. He, it, agreed and asked what she brought.”
The cushioned window seat near the library fireplace was a far cry from the barren plain but Bait shivered in Switch’s lap.
“She told it she brought me and the silver rushed around me, covering me. I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe or that it would be hot or cold. It didn’t feel like anything at all. I was covered in it. It moved in my mouth and nose and ears. It was seeing me through my pulse.”
“After forever, it moved away, told Mother how pleased our Father must be and that I would…would be the brightest star at the center of the earth.”
Switch stroked her hair. She sighed and relaxed against his shoulder.
“When it left, Mother was so proud of me for not screaming or moving. I asked her what the star thing meant and she laughed, saying I would follow her ways and make the lords happy.”
“She was lying?” asked Switch, his oddness knowing her answer before she spoke it.
“They have legends about stars, how they burn and keep the earth alive. Mother’s magic just feeds the lords and when she dies, I have to.”
“Mother wouldn’t sacrifice you!”
Dust-coated tears were dribbling down Bait’s cheeks.
“It’s not sacrifice to her. When the lord came, I was scared and she didn’t once care. I’m even more scared now and don’t know how to stop.”
“I can find something,” Switch said, “you won’t have to stay here.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
No Comments »