Coda, Chapter Seven: Requiem

The Council, as those who knew of it were beginning to call it, was assembling in the uppermost room of Asheron's tower. Nalicana and Thromer sat and knelt in their positions at the foot of the dais, and a few paces away Tapuaua, Pfeil, and the Raven had been joined by Aracoeli and Shi Daraua and the Sage Durgan.

The air at the drop point shimmered, and Isin Dule appeared. The Shadow took a step forward, and stopped; for the air was shimmering again, at the other end of the room, above the dais, and the sunlight-colored shade of Asheron appeared. Dule raised his hands to the place where his heart had beaten, long ago.

"Come, my old ally," Asheron said, beckoning. Dule took two steps toward him, and bowed deeply. Asheron stepped forward and took his hands. "Brother, do not do that; you are a shade and you look upon a shade. Take your seat." Dule sank into his chair and folded his hands in his lap.

"Go on with your discussion," Asheron said, returning to his own place. "I am here chiefly to listen."

"Isin Dule should speak first," Nalicana said; "he tracked Kellin and Valind from the battleground."

"Attempted to track them," Dule corrected. "I followed them to Palerath's Lifestone, but from there they scattered. Kellin went to the Cragstone Nexus and then elsewhere, so quickly I could not follow him. While they were in the hall, I overheard them agreeing to meet 'at the Runestone,' but I don't know which Runestone they meant; Omishan and Linvak are littered with them."

"Then it was you who destroyed the Shrine of the Light?" Nalicana asked. "So that you could safely stay there and observe?"

"I destroyed it," Dule said, "but it was not a Shrine of the Light. It may have been intended for one; but what I destroyed was a lamp set in a niche, as strongly tainted by Chaos as the Blackmire Swamp with rot. Valind set it up, did she not? And probably while wearing that Celestrum on her hand that she wore to the battle: it is as light as a silken glove; probably she takes it off only to sleep, if then. And it is corrupt with long centuries of Chaos, and so are the two swords that Kellin bore in the battle."

"They had them when we met in Hahnain's Seminary," Nalicana said. "I'll bet that's where they found them."

"So, in addition to those faults they already had," Asheron summarized, "Kellin and Valind are now bearing Chaos weapons that will draw them farther from the Light." He sighed. "Go on."

'Well, a strange thing is happening on the Artefon bottoms. The Undead are disappearing. There are fewer Skeletons and Revenants every day; the Drudges who have rebuilt and restaffed their watch-camps at 22 and 23 north, above the falls, report that even the beetles and grutts and dilloes have drawn back. The Humans are planting clover and radishes and little cherry tomatoes in northern Artefon --- and the Drudges are helping them tend the crops!"

"Yes, Drudges are taking up gardening all over Osteth," Shi Daraua said. "Cradoc is helping them, and they've obtained seeds from Lahry in exchange for keeping the rabbits down in his caverns. Every day I manage to plant a few more scare-Olthoi pillars, and if we live through this the Drudge Citadel region will be one huge kitchen-garden."

"The Zharalim and the Knight of the Flame no longer attack passersby," Nalicana returned to her topic, "and their tombs are covered again, and the cracks sealed with something that looks like bee-glue."

"I know something about this," Asheron put in. "I may not discuss it at present, but yes, Artefon is being cleared of the Archons' undead conscripts."

"Very well," Nalicana said after a moment. "Now, my next topic is Durgan's findings. Durgan, tell them, please."

Durgan rose and bowed, and knelt again. "You'll recall I had two subjects prisoned in my house, in crystals Nalicana set up for me after the pattern of those in the Holding: a Colossus as crazy as a broken beehive, and a Golem as sane as sunlight, but hostile to me because I'm Neutral. By being patient, and observing and thinking carefully, I succeeded in healing the mind of the Colossus. And when the Golem, that had been watching all this time, saw what I had done, it said, 'I perceive now that you have been doing good work, and therefore cannot be my enemy. Please let me out, and I will serve you.' "

"Was it telling the truth?" Thromer asked.

"Generally speaking, Golems are not able to lie," Nalicana said, "though certainly they can withhold the truth from anyone they consider an enemy. Anyway, Durgan called me and I came and, cautiously, opened the crystals."

"And the Colossus and the Golem lumbered out and embraced," Durgan said, "clumsily, like two hand-puppets; and now they clean my house and stoke my hearth-fire and sweep my doorstep clean of snow, and the Colossus keeps begging me to send him back to the Ramparts where he can help to heal his injured fellows. But I'm not having any of that; instead, I've set them to building a large new room onto my house where Nalicana can set more crystals and bring in more Colossi. I'd like to meet with you, Daraua, and with Sigurd, and see whether these techniques may be adapted for treating Takeru and Gearknights --- though I hear tell the Gear Master and Ludward are already making progress there."

"Nalicana, you said you unlocked the crystals you built on the pattern of the ones in the Holding," Daraua said. "Does this mean that you could also unlock those same crystals in the Holding, and release the keh of Aulatah and the others?"

"Yes, I could now," Nalicana said. "But what would happen then? What would become of the imprisoned spirits? Would they vanish altogether? Would they go wandering, like the spirit of Thorsten?" She turned to look at Asheron, as if he might know the answer. But Asheron only sat, with his fingers steepled together under his chin, and looked at Daraua.

"Ah," Daraua said. "Who here knows the name 'Soulcatcher'?"

There was silence for a moment. Then Tapuaua, because no one else was speaking, said, "The utterances of the Crier of Timaru, in the days of Elysatah. He said, 'When the first of us were taken to this place, we found it overrun with Wharu's children. Many died. This was under the moons that flew before the soulcatchers, water-colored stones that remember the world alive with light and song, came up from their hiding places within the flesh of Palenqual. But then the shamans discovered that the pounding of our drums echoed within the Wharu, and we could fight them on even ground.' I thought those stones were the menhir rings of Palenqual, of which one at least still stands."

"But those were ordinary stones in appearance," Daraua said. "Stones the color of water, that remember the world alive, that came up from the earth --- that sounds more like the Menhir Vaults --- or like the Lifestones." His gaze met Asheron's. "My Lord?"

"You are on the right track, Daraua," Asheron said. "Soulcatchers could hold a wandering spirit --- even Thorsten's, once you succeed in finding him. There is not much I can tell you about their construction; planar magic is a wide field and I specialized in other parts of it. Shoyanen, however, studied with Celdiseth and even with Harlune, and she had access to the notes of Martine and even, at the last, of Nuhmudira."

"Shoyanen is dead."

"For some values of 'dead'," Asheron said. "There might be ways of consulting her." He smiled, and looked into the distance above their heads.

"And there are those still dwelling near her tower who have carried on her work," Daraua said. "Orlen Jarlns, who has Shoyanen's notes and studies the art of imbuing gems with magical powers, and Lynnestra, who studies the Vault and Continental Menhirs. What we need is to bring them something to work on. Would someone like to take me to the Marescent Plateau? By 'take' I mean gently lead me there on a nice tame Ataur, and keep off the wildlife while I investigate the Menhir ring there."

"I'd be happy to take on that job," Thromer said. "Me and my eight cousins, any of whom could take anything on Arramora single-handed, barring thing-Wharu when it was around. Name your date and time."

"Let us think ahead," Durgan said. "If Nalicana succeeds in freeing the captive spirits of the Holdings, how will that affect those who have not yet attained the Hero Shrine? It is those prisoned Three who imbue the crystal fragments with the magic that permits them to form the Boju Gem that unlocks the Shrine."

"Orlen Jarlns and Lynnestra," Daraua repeated. "If anyone can create a Boju Gem from common substances, it is they; and once they have achieved that, there will be no need for anyone ever to enter the Holding. Anyone may enter the chamber of the Hero Shrine; my apprentice Rinokhe tried that out last week. He stepped through the portal; he bowed before the tomb of Ciandra; he approached the Shrine; but when he touched it, his fingers tingled; nothing more. All one needs the Boju Gem for is one's first access to the Shrine."

"And will Jarlns and Lynnestra be willing to take up this research for us?" Durgan said. "He's pleasant enough, though a trifle absent-minded, more interested in his own projects than yours. And Lynnestra would not even speak to me."

"You have to wait till your speaking won't interrupt her train of thought, that's all," Tapuaua said. "As for Orlen Jarlns --- the said Rinokhe, who is my cousin ---" she smiled at Thromer --- "got his Knights' Armor last week. Do you recall what it is Jarlns asks for, in exchange for an Alembic and basic instruction?" No one answered. "He wants a Shadow Totem. He is interested in the structure of the Chaos Hoards. I'll bet he'd spill his guts for a chance to confer with milord Dule."

"I'll be happy to teach him what I know," Dule said. "However, that was not my specialty either. But I can unlock the Hoards for him at will, as if he had as many Shadow Totems as he wanted. We can meet any time he likes, except not today."

"Then the spirits of Elysa and Thorsten, Borelean and Kei, Kresovus and Aulatah, can return to their tombs and sleep in peace," Pfeil said, "and the waters of Artefon can cover them again."

"Not of Aulatah," Tapuaua said. "His body should have been burnt, not buried, and when his bones are recovered we'll burn them properly and allow his keh to ascend to Blue Mother Heaven." Daraua nodded with approval.

"Even then," Aracoeli said. "Must Artefon be a lake again? It wasn't, till the Cataclysm. It was a valley filled with houses as well as tombs, trees and gardens, whose ruins we can still see. Rather than tearing down the dam at Rithwic, we could strengthen it, and let most of the water of the Prosper flow out into the Gulf of Kehan, as it does now. We could make farms and villages, plant gardens and orchards, and let the children play in the shade of the trees."

"Why not indeed," Daraua said. "They could trade seeds with their neighbors the Drudges."

Asheron laughed, and vanished. The others disappeared, portaling away one by one, until Isin Dule was left alone. "How is it," he mused aloud, "that I can approach the Child of Light?" But there was no one to answer his question.

===================================================

"Here we are," Thromer said, and the group dismounted and the panting Ataurs tossed their heads and sped away. The nine Lugians quickly re-equipped their weapons and went to work on the Golems that came out to greet them. The Virindi Masters hovered over their heads, blasting anything that came close enough, as they had throughout the trip. Daraua looked up at them nervously, but Thromer had made it plain to them, somehow, that he was not a target.

"Timaru," he said. He walked through the remains of the palisade that still stood, though with wide gaps, to the menhir ring in the center. There were eight stones, weathered to a pale grey, and three of them had fallen since the time long ago when Aun Hareltah had sat beside the akiekie fire, and Aun Dreganaua had chanted it for the good of the xuta. A fragment of wall lay in the center, among the green grass and ferns and liverworts. Daraua lifted it by one end and dragged it out of the circle; on his way back he gathered a few sticks. On the bare earth where the fragment had lain he arranged the sticks in a small cone and lit it. The tiny fire blazed up bravely, and he sprinkled herbs onto it from a small pouch.

"May we watch?" Thromer asked.

"You may," Daraua said, "but please dismiss your friends." He gestured toward the Virindi. "Aun Dreganaua would descend from the smoke of his burning and polish his spurs on my bones, if I allowed the atua ngamaru into the circle of Timaru." Thromer did not do anything perceptible, but the Virindi vanished. The Lugians came in and stopped at a respectful distance. Daraua said nothing further, but stood drumming in a complex rhythm, watching the fire burn. The smoke began to twist, as if the smallest dust devil in the world were stirring it, and slowly spread outward in a widening circle, diffusing the pungent scents of sage and thyme and pennyroyal and something else that was not quite lavender. Daraua continued drumming. The smoke diffused and faded away. The little sticks of the fire burnt down to their bases and went out one by one. The last ember stopped glowing.

And the earth within the circle began to move. The Lugians stepped back hastily, beyond the menhir ring, and not before it was time; for the ground within the ring was bubbling like a pot of soup coming to the boil. Daraua's rhythm changed to a steady beat, like a heartbeat, done with two fingertips. And out of the roiling earth, like the first shoots of green from sprouting bulbs in spring, protruded two, five, eight, nine blue crystals, like miniature Lifestones, the size of Daraua's hand. He played a final cadence on his drum and thrust it behind him. From his pouch he took a length of linen and, picking up the crystals one by one, wrapped them in the linen so that none of them was touching the next, and swathed them carefully in the free end of the cloth, like swaddling a baby. "Thromer, I thank you and your kinsfolk from the bottom of my heart. Now I must get busy." He bowed, and cradling the bundle in his right arm, beat a quick tattoo with his left, and was gone.

===================================================

Nagual stood beside the fountain, watching the guard change. He had never known if his day on patrol with the Blood-Father had won him the Third Cohort's change of duty to the Lyceum, but he was grateful for whatever it had been. The beauty of the buildings that surrounded him soothed the soul: the Yalaini may have been effete slackers of military duty, but he could find no fault with their architects. As the guard marched away, he watched the fountain tossing crystalline drops of water into the air, and smiled. This world was home. Even if hordes of insects still roamed it outside the borders of the Legionary enclaves: the light of the sun called Au, the color of the clouds drifting over the sky, the smell of the earth and the air, spoke to his blood.

The door behind him opened, and as he turned a hollow-cheeked man in the gear of an Exemplar Lector of the Tenth Cohort came out. They exchanged salutes. "The Blood-Mother is still within," the other remarked. "She has commanded her sisters to bring her a cot to sleep on and a change of linen: now that the engineers have the plumbing working again, she says she will stay in the Lyceum day and night until she has solved the riddles that puzzle her. And I would I could do the same, but I have duty now."

"May you have a good patrol, and may you soak the earth with the blood of your foes."

"And you," the other said. "Assuming you can call it blood." They parted, and Nagual went into the great hall of the Lyceum, its lamps kindled anew, the dead insect parts all swept away, and the floors being mopped to perfect cleanliness by two units on fatigue duty. Two stood on guard beside the elaborate door at the far end, and saluted as Nagual approached.

Inside, in a long room lined with half-empty bookshelves, the Blood-Mother sat at a small table, piles of codices at either side of her. Her lined face had a gentle expression which could be deceiving: she had never wielded a sword but with her magical implements she had acquitted herself well on other worlds. Now, with her advanced age, she was privileged to spend all her time at her studies. "Nagual," she said.

"Blood-Mother," he said, bowing. "I hope your research is proceeding well."

She smiled. "Have you ever encountered the expression, an embarrassment of riches? That is what I have here. Look at all these shelves, all these volumes; and then look at the gaps between them, and imagine what has already been lost; yet I am burdened down with wealth of documents. I have learned the most astonishing things.

"You were mistaken in your report to the Blood-Father, you know."

Nagual's blood ran slowly for a moment. "I ask pardon, Blood-Mother. What mistake did I make?"

"Oh, do not be concerned; you were working from partial data. But you spoke of "a weakling Empyrean prince who perverted the True Rites and escaped his Reckoning entirely," and identified him with the Master of this Lyceum, the mage Asheron."

"Was it not he?"

"No. That was another, called Geraine. The spell cast upon Asheron was done with all due observance, by a sister of Falatacot blood called Adja, and the blood shed to grant life to Asheron was given, willingly, by his own mother."

Nagual realized his mouth was open, and hastily shut it. "Then I have wronged his memory, and I ask forgiveness. When did he die?"

"I haven't learned that yet. He fled north with the Yalaini Emperor and a handful of refugees when the insects drove them forth. But he was nearly two thousand years old then, and another thousand have passed. Surely he has found his Reckoning by now --- except ---"

"Yes, Blood-Mother?"

"Except, that this text seems to indicate that he was bound to the circles of Auberean until such time as the servant of the Nameless should be destroyed for the last time. And that servant was not destroyed, only imprisoned, in the ritus through which Asheron's mother gave him her life."

"Then the servant of the Nameless still lives? And Asheron also?"

The Blood-Mother spread her hands to show him how empty they were. "I have no idea. I have not found any record that tells me of the death of either. But it may be here somewhere." She gestured again toward the long rows of bookshelves and their wealth of books. "Do you wonder, now, that I want to remain here by day and night, searching the records for the answer?"

"I do not, Blood-Mother; and I shall assign you an orderly, who will come here and bring you your food and drink, and shelve your books for you, and make you bathe and change your linen from time to time ---" the Blood-Mother laughed, her voice like that of a young girl --- "and compel you, by the authority of her duty, to sleep the necessary hours each night to maintain your fitness. May you soon find all you seek."

He bowed and left her. Behind him he heard the fluttering of many pages, as if a breeze had managed to find its way in through two sets of doors to cool the Blood-Mother's brow while she labored over her books.

===================================================

Tapuaua knelt under the darkened moon, holding in her arms a warrior dying for the second time. "It was horrible," he murmured. "It was like waking into a nightmare, compelled to fight and kill my own people, and die and die and die."

"Don't worry," she said. "Those who roused you are worse than dead, and you are dying now for the final time. Soon you will sleep again forever." She brushed the lank hair back from his forehead.

"You're weeping," the man said in surprise.

"I always weep. Don't mind me. Go into the Light." And the man smiled at her, and let out his last breath. The flesh crumbled away from his bones, and ---

But she was still holding bones; they had not gone to dust as they usually did. Perhaps the man had been one of the last to be buried in Artefon, before the waters came in. "Well, my friend," she said, wiping her eyes with the piece of linen she now kept handy for that purpose. "I suppose one of those tombs down there in the Catacombs is yours, but how am I to tell which one? The inscriptions are gone. Would you consent to lie in the earth here?" She lifted the skeleton, still held together by its remnants of sinew, and looked around for a landmark. That tall tree would do: it was dead, but she would plant another in its place someday, an apple tree that would flower like the rose in spring. She laid the bones down beside it and clawed experimentally at the earth: it was soft, but not that soft. "My friend, I should have brought something to wrap you in. From now on, I shall carry more linen than this." She stood up, took her bearings, and started to run toward the southeast.

She swam the stream, disdaining the bridge, and ran up the hill to the Outpost. "Hey Drudges!" she called.

"Hey Tapu!" they cried. "Good you here! Stay for dinner; good stew ready at moonset."

"I have something to do first," she said. "Can you lend me a shovel? I have to bury one of those poor fellows out there."

"Shovel," murmured one Drudge and then another. "Where shovel?"

"Over here, you imbeciles!" called a Mystic, floating above them in his robe of antique feathers, pointing gracefully toward the ground. A little Prowler found the shovel he was pointing to, and brought it to Tapuaua.

"Thanks, budhis," she said. "I'll bring it back when I'm done."

"Come back for stew!" they repeated. "Bunny, cabbage, potato, carrot, turnip, 'leven secret herbs and spices."

"I will," she said, and ran off again.

===================================================

"You're sure this will work," Aldwan said. It was not exactly a question.

"We're about to find out," Daraua said. "Take it easy; all you have to do is keep me alive."

"Anything you say," the Sage muttered. He was one of Thromer's cousins, chosen on grounds of his exceptional magical skills. "I have you in my sights; now where is she?"

"She may not be here tonight," Daraua said calmly. "We may have to do this again and again. No, wait." In the darkness ahead of them, something moved. "Do not attack," he whispered.

"You said, you said already," Aldwan muttered back.

Daraua took a cautious step forward. "Ten platinum scarabs," he called. "Forty Hawthorn, fifty Mugwort, one hundred Hyssop."

Clouds overhead, drifting away, let what the moon's subdued light fall upon the figure before him. A woman, clad in a tattered robe, her flesh also in tatters, her eyes empty sockets. "Mugwort ... Hyssop," she said. "... And what else?"

"Fifty Powdered Amber," Daraua chanted, stepping forward again. "Fifty Powdered Onyx. Twenty Brimstone, twenty Gypsum, fifty Quicksilver, twenty Vitriol."

"Vitriol. ...And what else?"

"Two Cedar Talismans," Daraua said. He was now quite close. "Ten Red Tapers, ten Pink Tapers, ten Orange Tapers, ten ..." He reached into his pouch and drew out a shining blue crystal the size of his hand, held it up before her, and in a whisper, "Come within."

The undead shape fell to the ground, leaving a pile of bones, and the blue crystal glowed with a soft light. "There!" Daraua crowed, and held it up to view. Inside the crystal floated a face: a woman with golden skin, almond-shaped eyes, sleek black hair.

"Thank you, Ezheret," Daraua said. "It did work. Shoyanen," he said to the face in the crystal, "I know things are a little cramped in there, but I am taking you to two new pupils, who are waiting anxiously for the things you can teach them. Who knows, they may even have things they can teach you."

At this the woman's face smiled, and said (the voice was a whisper), "Let us go."

"Aldwan, hold the Lady Shoyanen for a moment," Daraua said. The Sage took the crystal carefully, and Daraua bent to collect the bones and wrap them in the linen he took from his pouch.

===================================================

Weeks had passed, and Harvestgain was passing into Leafcull. The valley of Artefon seemed empty of undead, and all its tombs were sealed over the bones of their tenants. The shrine of Aun Ralirea was gone, its skulls and totems fallen; his bones had been burnt on a pyre made from the dead tree that had stood there, and his keh had ascended in the smoke. Still Tapuaua waited, pacing back and forth beside a trunk that still stood. There were still some Undead down in the catacombs to be hunted by day, but, Light willing, this would be the last of the night-work. A stray beetle, the first she had seen here in several days, ran up and she slew it with a quick tattoo on her drum. Nothing else stirred.

The arcane energies of the Shrine of Transcendence have empowered Rino. He is now a hero!

"Well done, Rinauri," she murmured into the darkness --- for she knew that Rino had, by arrangement, approached the Shrine with one of Orlen Jarln's new Boju Gems. She must remember to ask Orlen, or somebody, what Boju meant.. There was no sound --- there was a sound: the sound of bare feet running across the soft earth. Her fingers felt for her drum; her rattle; her pouch.

The footsteps were close now; the faint moonlight shone on the tattooed skin of a Tonk, fighting naked but for a loincloth, as they had done in the old days. A hoarse voice spoke. "Run away, mortal. Run quickly. Do not torment me, by making me kill you. I have no wish to kill. I only wish to die."

"That can be, Tikauri," Tapuaua said. "I have here the means to give you the true death."

"Please!" Tikauri cried. "Quickly, before I must ---" His drum beat, hollow in the darkness, and cast a fierce bolt toward her. It slashed open the skin along her arms. She beat her own drum and healed herself.

"Oh, well done," the hoarse voice said. "The healing arts have been well-studied since my day. Tell me, since you can resist my harms for a while --- what came of Aulatah? Does he sleep, or is he running enslaved like me?"

"Aulatah's keh is prisoned, far away from here in the mountains of Linvak," Tapuaua said. "But we have found the key to his prison, and soon he will be freed, his bones burnt, his keh sent to Blue Mother Heaven."

"Ah, if I could live to see that! If I am living. Whatever I am, I would gladly see Aula set free."

"I can do that," Tapuaua said. Her right hand fell to her pouch. "You too will be prisoned, for a little while, and then you will both go free."

"Please. Make it so."

Tapuaua brought out the crystal and held it up. "[i]Come within.[/I]"

===================================================

At a spot that had once been the shore of Lake Artefon, a party had gathered, on the green where Tima Drokh had once kept vigil, sending out adventurers to combat the Undead and to search out the status of the tombs of the Knights. Now he stood to one side, next to Simlan, as they watched the procession slowing taking form. At its head, bearers carried an honored burden: seven massive biers, adorned with leaves and such flowers as could be found in the autumn season. On each bier rested a blue crystal and a little pile of bones, wrapped in white linen.

("I think they're just about ready to move," Lord Sigurd whispered to Nalicana. "The tombs have all been restored ---")

"We are ready," Simlan said in a great voice that carried effortlessly from the head to the tail of the procession. "The last servants of the Archons have been driven from the Catacombs. By our hands, the tombs of our honored dead have been restored, their inscriptions renewed. By the grace of the Light and the spirits of our ancestral worlds, the spirits and the bones of our heroes have been freed from their captivity. The generations to come will know of those who rest within, and give them the honor they deserve."

The bearers set off eastward across the plain, already beginning to sprout new blades of grass. As each bier passed by, Simlan and Tima called off their names in alternation.

"Saint Elysa Strathelar."

"The noble Thorsten Cragstone, whose sacrifice allowed all to live free."

"Lord Kresovus, first lord of Linvak Tukal."

"Borelean Strathelar, who reigned for fifty years of peace."

"Hoshino Kei, beloved Queen, pupil of Celdiseth."

These five were followed by a great crowd of Humans and Lugians. Behind them came the last two biers, and Minauri to name them.

"Aun Aulatah, who defeated the Hea and united the Tumeroks into the Shi tribe."

"Aun Tikauri, faithful companion to Aulatah in all his travels."

The Tonk followed behind, many chanting, others beating their drums in unison, so that the whole valley echoed with them. At the end walked Daraua, carrying a torch, and Tapuaua, and Nalicana between them.

The Shapers had built a bridge across the Prosper, wide enough for four to walk abreast, leading to the Catacombs. The procession crossed the bridge and headed eastward. As they approached the entrance to the Catacombs, the last two biers and the procession of Tonks stopped beside two great pyres of fragrant wood --- cedar from Osteth, camphor from Omishan, even sandalwood from distant Knorr --- that had been built side by side. The Humans and Lugians followed their heroes into the tunnel entrance.

Craning her neck northwards, Tapuaua could see the tall pole that had been erected beside Shoyanen's newly restored tomb, and the silken thing that flew from it, like a tethered kite: a golden carp, symbol of youth and spring.

The biers were set atop the pyres, the Soulcatcher crystals carefully positioned so that the faces within could see each other: two old Tonks, their crests of hair thin and grey, the fur grown thin over their cheekbones. Daraua stepped forward, his torch raised high.

"Farewell, you noble shamans," he said, "May your keh know peace in Blue Mother Heaven's memory."

"Farewell," murmured the others.

Daraua lowered his torch and set first one pyre, then the other, ablaze. The flames licked through the resinous wood, which crackled merrily. Tapuaua stepped up to the pyre of Tikarui, where the prisoned spirit could see her, and Nalicana to the pyre of Aulatah. "We have sat and waited together so long," Nalicana said. "I am almost sorry to see you go."

"Faithful companion," said Tapuaua, "now you go together on the last journey of all. Remember us, where you go."

The first tongues of flame had reached the wrapped bones. Together the two mages raised their hands and said, "Go forth." And the Soulcatchers shattered, and the spirits of the two great Tonks stood up upon the flames, and reached out the little distance to clasp hands for a moment, and gestured a farewell to all the watchers. Then they rose up in the smoke of their burning and ascended high into the endless blue of the sky.

"You're weeping," Nalicana said. Her own eyes were suspiciously damp.

"I always weep," Tapuaua said. "Don't mind me. I brought plenty of linen."