Guinevere woke to pale, pre-dawn light, a sky that was gaining brightness but not yet color. Color would come when the sun rose higher, wielding its brush and palette to paint the sky, and the world beneath it, to announce the dawn.
Beside her, Ava was softly sleeping, her side rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Her soft head against Guinevere’s chest was a welcome comfort, one she’d enjoyed for ten years — and couldn’t imagine how she’d ever lived without it beforehand.
As she lay there, taking in this moment of awakening, she realized — her mind was clear. Her sleep had been peaceful, untroubled.
No nightmares.
She breathed deep the crisp morning air, listening closely to the faint song of waking birds in the distance. She stretched out her hand and felt the grass beneath her, each blade subtly unique, an untold number of individuals that her own senses could not differentiate.
She took in the world as if it was brand new to her. Could everything change so much in just one night?
But there had been the Caterpillar. And there had been Ninian, taking her on her first steps towards resolution.
They were quick things, all accomplished in a single day. And yet they changed everything.
Ava stirred, turning her adoring gaze on Guinevere, and Guinevere hugged her, nuzzled close to her, relishing in the closeness of her closest companion and greatest friend. “Good morning, sweet girl,” she said softly. Ava gave her a dainty kiss on the chin, eliciting a quiet laugh.
All is right with me now. So our journey continues — to Loch Reòsair, and the Intersection. The scant clues we have about Elysia point us towards Ars Moran…
She sighed. Ars Moran. Home.
Our clues point us to Ars Umbra. Rosalie is sure to help. Maybe I won’t have to go home at all. We can get in, find what we need, and depart without anyone knowing I ever came back.
It could work. We have so much ahead of us, surely we don’t want to stay in Ars Moran any longer than necessary.
Guinevere rolled over partway, enough to look about the camp. Sheena, Tobias, and Elliot’s sleeping bags were all empty, and their occupants nowhere to be seen. But Guinevere could hear, distantly, the faint song of steel on steel.
They’re training. Perhaps even sparring!
Guinevere sat up, quickly pulling on and lacing up her boots. Grabbing her sword, she started off towards the edge of the high hill, Ava padding along beside her.
There. Down the far slope of the hill, across the field to a space between two low hills — barely hills, really, they were so low and softly rounded, just gentle contours in the landscape — were Tobias and Elliot, along with Flynn and Hector.
The two Knights were engaged in what was clearly a playful sparring match. They moved slow — especially Tobias, whose speed Guinevere still wasn’t convinced was entirely possible — and talked as they exchanged practiced blows, often laughing and joking as they wheeled around each other, measuring their opponent’s defenses. Sometimes a strike slipped through — always from Tobias — and ended not with a dangerous cut, but a mischievous slap on the arm, hip, or thigh with the flat of the blade.
“That’s five already,” Tobias said, laughing as he smacked Elliot’s elbow with the flat of his blade, causing Elliot to leap back a step, shaking out his arm with a grimace. “Ready to surrender?”
“Hardly,” Elliot said, grasping his unique blade with two hands, assuming a guarded stance. Guinevere was struck again by the design of the sword, a weapon the likes of which she’d never seen before. It was a two-handed rapier, with an elaborate handguard that encompassed a hilt long enough for a comfortable two-handed grip. But the blade wasn’t quite that of a rapier — it was broader, with a wide fuller down its midsection inlaid with intricate Elysian script on a musical staff.
Elliot fought with a modified version of court fencing. But it wasn’t the “combat fencing” that Guinevere was aware of, a version of fencing geared towards open combat against numerous foes. It was a style she hadn’t seen before, with the positions of court fencing, but more fluid, sweeping strikes and long, lateral footwork, regularly wheeling about the opponent. It made sense, Guinevere realized, for Elliot’s sword — a regular rapier was an able cutter, of course, but they were primarily thrusting weapons, deadliest at the point. Elliot’s blade looked as able a cutter as the best of long swords and battlefield blades.
Tobias, on the other hand, used a style Guinevere couldn’t place at all, not even its foundation. He didn’t seem to have any guard positions at all — he moved from one attack to the next, often moving from a casual, unassuming posture to a fierce attack or lightning-quick block as if that was as natural as anything else. He had grounded, firm steps, which only made his incredible speed more astonishing — Guinevere would have expected him to step more lightly, keeping on the front of his feet and bounding about like a boxer.
But he had intentionality in every step, and every attack or block, despite how freeform and improvised it all looked. Guinevere realized that Tobias’ grounded footwork, his firm steps, were a way of feeling the battlefield, being connected to the land beneath him, testing and observing where he fought so he could make the best choices of how to move around it. It also gave him a strong, confident foundation for his bold slashes and daring blocks. Strength was as much a part of his swordsmanship as speed.
It was all the more impressive that Tobias had five hits on Elliot, and Elliot no hits on him, when Guinevere saw them up against each other, measuring one Knight beside the other. Elliot was easily six-foot-four, perhaps a bit taller, while Tobias was about five-foot-eight. Elliot had size, and reach — both longer arms and a longer sword — and had swordsmanship that easily ranked among the very best Knights that Guinevere had seen. There was no disputing that he had earned his rank of Knight Commander.
And yet, even though this sparring was more game than serious, and dangerous, combat, Tobias was just so elusive, so quick, and spotted the gaps in Elliot’s nearly impenetrable defense with a casual, playful ease.
Size was no detriment for Tobias — a fact that Guinevere took keen interest in, considering her own shortcomings in that same area.
“And six!” Tobias said, calling it out a whole second before he sidestepped Elliot’s thrust and gave him a one-handed slap on the hip with his obsidian sword. Elliot groaned, but stepped away, and both of them lowered their swords in acknowledgment of the game’s end.
“One of these days,” Elliot said, pointing an accusing finger at Tobias. “One of these days, I really will win.”
“Start with scoring a single point,” Tobias said with a boyish grin. “Small steps lead to the greatest achievements.”
“Your mockery does not go unnoticed,” Elliot said. He sheathed his sword and joined a tail-wagging Hector, petting him all over. “I’ll remind you of the incident at —”
“Godot’s Rendezvous,” Tobias said with a sigh. “Which was your idea in the first place, since you insisted we wait for —”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Elliot said, waving his hands. But he was smiling, now. “But you’re still the one who got caught off-guard, and needed me to save you.”
“And you’re never going to let it go, are you?” Tobias asked dryly.
“Now what kind of friend would I be if I let you forget your mistakes?” Elliot asked cheerfully. “You’ve got to learn from them, not forget them.”
The Knights kept bantering, and Guinevere looked down at Ava. “Shall we join them?” she asked. Ava’s tail wagged, and the pair started down the hill.
“Ah, good morning, Your Highness,” Elliot said, snapping a crisp salute.
“Please,” Guinevere said, holding up a hand. “We’re not in the Capital, or at a formal function.” She glanced at Tobias, and didn’t miss how his expression changed when he realized she was there. The vulnerability, the openness, that he had when he was alone with Flynn — or, now, with Elliot, too — was now guarded. Subtly, but it was a clear enough change for Guinevere to notice.
“You spar with live blades,” Guinevere continued.
“Ah, it’s just a game,” Elliot said with a chuckle. “Our Teacher introduced it to us. It’s not exactly safe with life blades, even when one follows the rules, but when you know your opponent the way we know each other…”
“Then you only get a few bruises,” Tobias said, with a little hint of a smirk.
“Ha,” Elliot said, rolling his eyes. “Sorry if we woke you, Guinevere. We were hoping we were far enough away that we wouldn’t be a disturbance.”
“You didn’t wake me,” Guinevere said. She looked around. “Where’s Sheena?”
“She had last watch, so she may still be patrolling somewhere,” Tobias said. “I haven’t seen her since my shift ended.”
“Did you need her for something?” Elliot asked.
“I was just hoping she could look at my hand,” Guinevere said, holding up her wrapped right hand. “It isn’t hurting anymore, so I was hoping I might be able to start using it again. Maybe even get in a morning training session before we depart.”
“I’m sure you won’t have long to wait for her to return,” Tobias said. “She’ll be back in time for breakfast, at least.”
But as they were walking up the hill, Ava at Guin’s side, Flynn at Tobias’, Guinevere had a thought. And for a moment, she hesitated. But if she was going to ask for his help with anything, it was this, and in this matter, she knew she could trust him. He’d even offered his advice in the past. Taking a deep breath, Guinevere resolved herself, and spoke.
“Can you help me learn more about Ava?” she asked. “And help us both advance our training, so we can be better partners in the future?”
“I’d be happy to,” Tobias said. He seemed slightly surprised by Guinevere asking, and that surprise actually made her feel slightly guilty.
He’s always so guarded, but I’ve kept my distance from him, too. Just because he has certain features that remind me of… but that doesn’t matter. He’s Tobias. I shouldn’t see him as anyone else, or let resemblances cloud my assessment of him.
We could be friends, I think. If I was willing.
“The most important thing is understanding each other,” Tobias continued. “You’ve spent ten years together, so you already have an advantage in that regard. When Flynn and I started, the first year was really spent trying to figure out what motivated him, and what his talents were. He’s full of energy, and about play and having fun. Ava’s certainly different, in that regard. She loves to play, I don’t mean that she doesn’t. But she’s very relaxed. A calm, gentle soul.”
“She is,” Guinevere said, and her heart glowed at Tobias’ accurate appraisal of her best friend. “I’ve never noticed any particularly special motivator for her. In all of our training together, she just remained focused on me. Whether I was praising her, or giving her treats, or rewarding her with play, she always seemed equally motivated and focused.”
“Then you’re lucky,” Tobias said with a chuckle. “Not every dog is so perfect.” At that, Flynn bumped into Tobias’ leg quite hard. More of a shoulder-check than a playful bump. Tobias actually stumbled for a moment, but he was laughing right after. “I’m not saying you’re not perfect. You’re certainly perfect for me. But don’t forget, we had a hard time getting started. You didn’t make things easy for me, and I struggled to figure out what you really cared about.”
“How do you understand him so well?” Guinevere asked. “You and Flynn… and Sheena and Akko, and Elliot and Hector, all of you have real, actual conversations with your animals, don’t you? Like you can speak their language.”
“Understand, more than speak,” Tobias said. “But, yes. Every creature has its own language. Most animals are less vocal and more about body language — cats are an interesting exception.” He rolled his eyes at that. “And dogs are very expressive creatures. They’re always telling you something. You just have to listen. To really understand Ava, to tune yourself with her, will take a long sit-down session to start. And we can make that happen when we get a chance. But you can count on her understanding you perfectly. You’ve had the time together, and she’s a Wonderian chiba, like Flynn. I’m pretty sure they’re born with fluent understanding of human languages. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it is.” He shrugged. “The point is: talk to her. And watch, listen with your eyes, for how she responds. You’ll already start learning, just by doing that much.”
“I see,” Guinevere said. She looked down at Ava, who was gazing lovingly up at her. And she knew the truth of Tobias’ words. She’d seen it, over and over, for as long as she’d had Ava. Ava was always so focused on her with those beautiful blue eyes, her pointy white ears alert and attentive.
Always listening.
They reached the top of the hill, and Sheena was just coming up the other side. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Tobias said, nodding to Guinevere and starting off to his area of the campsite.
“Tobias,” Guinevere said, remembering a question she’d had from when they first met. Tobias stopped, looking back at her. “Your Chivalric Marque. It… didn’t have a family name. Just Tobias. I was wondering when you first showed it to me, and I just…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was just curious.”
Tobias stared at her for a moment, and Guinevere wondered if he’d answer. Just when she was thinking she wouldn’t get anything, and was about to tell him to forget about it, he spoke in a quiet, tight voice: “My family is dead.”
He turned to leave, but something tugged at Guinevere’s heart. She couldn’t leave it at that. “But you remain,” she said. Tobias paused. Slowly, he looked back at her. She could see in his summer-sky-blue eyes, despite the walls he kept up — she could see the pain, desperate to break free. The grief that had scarred him so deeply, that he had carried for so long. “Their memory, their name, lives in you,” Guinevere continued. “Don’t let grief strip away who you are.”
Tobias stared at her. Really looked at her, like he’d never looked at her before. Something shimmered in his eyes.
Tears, brimming at the edge. Longing to break free.
He gave her a curt nod, but said no more. Turning away, he and Flynn walked on.
Guinevere took a deep breath, collecting herself. Tears were brimming in her eyes, too. She blinked rapidly, and swallowed once. The tears would hold, for now.
Guinevere joined Sheena, and they sat by Guinevere’s things. Sheena unwrapped her hand and examined it. Before she even said a word, Guinevere already knew things were greatly improved. The bruising was completely gone, her hand no longer discolored or swollen. And it felt good to have it out and in the open, not raw or nervous, like one wrong move would cause new pain to lance up her arm.
Sheena massaged along Guinevere’s palm, up and down each of her fingers, and asked her to wiggle her fingers, close her hand into a fist, and rotate her wrist both directions several times. “How does it feel?” she asked.
“Excellent,” Guinevere said, smiling. “A bit weak, but nothing hurts.”
Sheena nodded approvingly. “It’s healed nicely. With some training, it should only take a few days to get your strength back.”
“Can we have a session before we leave camp?” Guinevere asked.
Sheena smiled back at her. Guinevere’s eagerness couldn’t be missed. “Would you prefer before or after breakfast?” she asked.
“Before!” Guinevere said.
And so they stood facing each other on one side of the hilltop, swords drawn. It felt right to have her sword in her dominant hand again, Guinevere realized. She’d learned valuable things from being forced to wield her sword in her left hand, but she wouldn’t do it again if she didn’t have to.
“Let us begin where we left off last time,” Sheena said, saluting with her cerulean katana, the ripples engraved along its blade mesmerizing, like the waves of the ocean. “But without advancement, just yet. Show me how what you’ve learned translates to your dominant hand.”
Guinevere saluted with her silver blade, and then she and Sheena began their customary slow, technique-focused session. Sheena said little, watching Guinevere and moving around her, blocking Guinevere’s attacks and making slow attacks in response, watching how Guinevere chose to block and maneuver in response. A conversation with blades.
After only a few minutes, Sheena called a pause, and Guinevere lowered her sword, catching her breath. It hadn’t been particularly strenuous exercise, but she felt every movement in her entire right arm. Not in pain, or even the threat of pain, but in weakness, in newness.
“How does it feel?” Sheena asked.
Guinevere took a moment to think of how to respond, then smiled. “Nothing is finished,” she said.
Sheena nodded approvingly. “Did you notice how much your form improved just by using your dominant hand?” she asked.
“I feel so much more in control,” Guinevere said, moving through a quick slash-thrust maneuver, just to check her speed. She sighed, lowering her sword. “I feel rather sluggish, though.”
“You’re faster than you feel, then,” Sheena said. “It’s just as you said. Give it time, and practice, and you’ll get your speed back.”
Guinevere nodded, and they moved through several more slow, methodical “conversations” with their swords. Sheena spoke more now, instructing Guinevere through several combinations, explaining their purpose. She also, as she had in previous sessions, asked for more input about Guinevere’s own court fencing style, since it was so different from her Sword Dancer training.
Guinevere found something beautiful in these sessions. There was a peace, despite the weapon in her hand, in the way that Sheena taught her. It was more collaboration than instruction, Sheena meeting Guinevere as an equal despite the clear gulf in skill between the two women. And Sheena was so confident, so comfortable in who she was, while being eager and willing to learn more, that Guinevere found herself longing to be like her, without envying all the ways in which Sheena was “better” than her, in Guinevere’s eyes.
It was the kind of friendship Guinevere had never had. She had an excellent sword instructor in Tycho, who had trained her since she was eleven years old. But for all the laughs they shared, all the good conversation between them, that was a very clear teacher-student relationship. She had excellent friends who were her equals — Artorius in childhood, and Rosalie in adulthood.
But someone her age, who could be her teacher, and her role model, while meeting her as an equal and longing to learn from her in turn? This was something new, something unexpected.
Something wonderful.
It was awfully silly of me to expect and long for a journey of solitude to Elysia, wasn’t it? If I’d been too adamant on that front, if I’d spurned all companionship…
I never would have found this. Something I never realized I wanted.
When they finished their final exchange, and they began talking in detail of their thoughts on that last exchange, Alice suddenly called out, “Breakfast is ready!”
“Thank you, once again,” Guinevere said, and she and Sheena saluted each other with their swords, sheathed them, and then bowed to each other in respect.
“Thank you,” Sheena said. “I may be the teacher, but I’m learning a great deal from you, as well. And I hope you can see just how quickly you’re progressing. You’re a very fast study.”
Guinevere’s heart glowed at the praise, and she joined the others for breakfast in high spirits, despite being physically tired. And, she realized, training before breakfast was the perfect timing. Food brought her energy back, restored what had been spent moments before, and made her feel prepared to take on whatever the day might hold for her.
And just as Tobias was showing them on one of his many maps what the day had in store for them, there was a sudden, familiar pop!
The Cheshire Cat appeared, floating upside-down over the table, flashing his insufferable grin at them all.
“And how was the little bug, Alice?” he asked in his lilting, dreamy voice.
“He missed you,” Alice said with a smirk. “Said you should come visit as soon as possible.”
“Perhaps I shall,” said Chesh, spinning lazily in the air. “When swine learn to fly and fires freeze over.”
“I could show you evidence of both impossibilities being quite possible,” Alice said cheerfully.
“Could,” Chesh said slowly. “But should? Perhaps not. Now, then. Loch Reòsair, was it? Lovely this time of year.”
“Hold on — Chesh?” Alice asked, eyes widening in hope. “You’re going to take us there?”
“We’ve been apart for too long, dear Alice,” said the Cat. “I’m not quite done being your guide. If you’re still found, that is.”
“Neither lost nor found,” Alice said. “Or perhaps a bit of both, in careful measure. How’s that sound, Chesh?”
“Just like you,” Chesh said. “Are we all prepared?”
“Not quite!” Alice said, hopping to her feet. “Come on, everyone! Let’s break camp.”
And as Guinevere went to pack up her and Ava’s things, she began to think that, for all the Cat’s annoying nonsense, perhaps he wasn’t such a bad Cat after all. As long as Alice was around, he was much more manageable — because he wasn’t bothering Guinevere. But also, she couldn’t deny that he was being remarkably generous. Taking them from place to place with his unknowable powers, all without asking payment or favors of any of them?
I suppose I owe him my thanks.
When they all gathered together again, fully packed and ready to go, Guinevere didn’t get a chance to thank the Cat. He simply chuckled, Alice warned them all to close their eyes, and just as Guinevere’s eyelids met…
Pop!
——
“Here we are,” Roland said, pausing beneath the stone archway at the end of the road to Loch Reòsair. “The final checkpoint. Beyond here is the Loch itself.”
It was the morning after Tock and Maxwell had said their farewells. Roland and his companions had rested quite well in comfortable beds at the inn, had a delicious breakfast, and started off bright and early, reaching Loch Reòsair well before lunchtime.
Here they were now, reaching the end of the winding mountain road, standing on the threshold to what awaited them. Roland could hear it in the tentative silence that greeted his announcement. Answers awaited them at the landing site, and the Intersection — and also questions, undoubtedly.
“Well!” Tsubasa said, bubbling up with her usual cheer. “Erika, Enrique, come on! This is one of the most amazing natural wonders of the world!”
“Let’s go,” Erika said, taking her brother’s hand. They shared a look, and at Enrique’s nod, Erika smiled.
Together, they all crossed the threshold. The close-in road opened up to a wide, wooden viewing platform. A dock, one might think, and it did indeed extend from the shore to just over a lake.
But this lake — Loch Reòsair — was no ordinary lake.
Stretching out all the way to the horizon was an icy landscape, a lake flash-frozen in some unprecedented, unknown, and probably unknowable event eons ago. But even that didn’t begin to describe it, for this truly was no ordinary lake. It wasn’t a body of water frozen, pristine and smooth. It was a wild, dramatic landscape of towering plumes, awe-inspiring arches, jagged eruptions, all bursting up from the surface of the lake. All frozen in the moment. And floating all across the vast expanse were water and fire fantasians in equal measure, flitting to and fro, their lights casting reflected glows across the Loch’s surface, and along the edges of the many rising features.
There was a sound in the air, a song of cracking and hissing, with an undercurrent like glass wind chimes, light and airy. As Roland looked, a crack split across a towering frozen arch far out over the lake, and the crowd gathered on the dock gasped in amazement as a huge cloud of steam erupted from the fracture. It only lasted a moment, before the crack froze itself shut, smooth as it was before.
“What… is it?” Erika asked, gaping. “It’s not, I mean… is it boiling underneath?”
“Not exactly,” Roland said. He strode to the end of the dock, and gathered with them all at the railing. Gazing out in awe over the Loch, he smiled. “Once, long ago, this was the only lake of its kind: a lake of fire.”
Enrique gasped, staring wide-eyed. “It’s frozen,” he said softly. “Fire, encased in ice.”
“Not encased,” Roland said. “Frozen, like water-made ice. An impossibility made real.”
“You can’t find frozen fire anywhere else,” Tsubasa said.
“Amazing…” Erika murmured.
For a moment longer, Enrique took in the view with awe, too. But then, slowly, he turned to Roland. “What do we do?” he asked softly. “The landing site…” He pointed out across the Loch. “It’s on the far side.”
“Wait, you two have been here before!” Tsubasa said. “I can’t believe I didn’t even think about that. So this isn’t new to you at all.”
“It is,” Erika said. “We were so little back then, and everything was so hectic. Mother and Father hid the ship and then we were getting as far away as we could, as fast as possible. I don’t even remember seeing this. Not even the slightest glimpse.”
“But you know where the landing site is?” Muirrach asked.
“I can find it,” Enrique said, nodding. “I don’t know precisely from here. But I know it’s on the far side.”
“Then that’s where we go,” Roland said.
“But how?” Erika asked. She looked to the right, where a tall fence blocked anyone from hopping off from the dock to explore the shore freely, and then to the left, where there was a gate, but it was guarded by four armored soldiers with tall, gleaming spears.
Roland rolled up his right sleeve, eyeing his tattoos with a bit of trepidation. “Being a Summoner has its perks,” he said, without bragging, without joy. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Follow me.”
He led them up to the gate, where the soldiers eyed them warily, but didn’t immediately move to bar their way. They were on guard, and prepared to do their duty, but did not wish to appear threatening if the situation didn’t call for it.
Roland held up his right arm, showing clearly the tattoos for Kirin, Vi, Shureen, and Jurall. “My companions and I wish to walk to the far side for research,” he said. “May we pass?”
The lead soldier’s eyes widened. “You must be Roland, then!” he said in an awestruck voice. “Of course you may pass.” He moved to open the gate.
“You know my name?” Roland asked, hesitant. He wasn’t expecting that. They would have let any Summoner pass. What did it matter who he was specifically?
“Maestro Brahe informed us you would be coming,” said the second guard, his voice full of reverence. “She couldn’t determine the exact time. But she said we should be ready for the arrival of ‘a skinny, short, red-haired Summoner with a few friends. He’ll have made pacts with the entire First Quartet, and should be allowed to pass on business of greatest urgency. Do not delay him.’ Those were her words exactly, Sir Roland.”
“I, um,” Roland started, lost for words. He was rather embarrassed by the description they’d been given, though he couldn’t dispute its accuracy. As for the rest… He shook his head. “Just Roland, is fine. Thank you very much. We’ll be on our way.”
“If ever you have need of anything, Lord Summoner, you need but ask,” said the first guard. He finished opening the gate and then saluted sharply.
“J-just Roland is fine,” Roland said meekly. He withheld a sigh. “Thank you very much.”
He went through the gate without further conversation, eager to get moving. Shallow steps led them down to the path that circled the Loch, a narrow, winding dirt trail marked by short stone beacons, each topped with a crystal that would light the way at night, but here under the brightness of day were unlit.
They were barely ten paces along the path before Roland felt everyone’s eyes on him. “So,” Tsubasa said eagerly. “So?”
“So…?” Roland asked, oblivious to which point she wanted to question first.
“You know Maestro Brahe?!?” Tsubasa exploded, eyes wide and glittering, a bundle of enthusiasm unable to be bridled.
“I, um,” Roland started, then shook his head. “No. I’ve never met her.”
“Oh,” Tsubasa said, coming down from her enthusiastic high with startling suddenness. “Huh. That’s weird, then, isn’t it? Why would she know what you look like? And your name? And that you’d be traveling with others? And why would she tell them to let you through when they would have let any Summoner pass?”
“Those are all questions that have crossed my mind, too,” Roland said softly. Vesper Brahe was a legend, one of the greatest scientists of the Post-Fractured world. She was especially renowned for her work in astronomy, constructing Twinkling’s Starshine Observatory’s Hebrides Helioscope, the greatest device for peering into the mysteries of the night sky, with astounding, innovative technology that Brahe refused to explain in detail. She kept her secrets, urging that such an approach encourage scientific advancement, rather than stifled it. “If I tell the world exactly how I accomplished what I accomplished,” she argued, “then the world’s scientists wouldn’t have to think for themselves.” It was a hotly debated philosophy.
Roland thought she was incredible. He’d read all of her dissertations, and done exactly what she suggested as well, studying the work she’d done and putting his own mind to work to try and figure out how she did it. Not the Helioscope — that was a cipher he was ill-equipped to solve — but some of her other inventions. He’d actually managed to construct his own version of her astonishing “lightspray display” device, a sort of handheld beacon that, when input with the right numerical coordinates, could create a display of various places and objects with light. Like holding an entire city, or an automobile, or a train in the palm of one’s hand — but it was a three-dimensional image, rather than a physical construct.
He was still quite proud that he’d managed to crack the code on that one. It had been a nearly six-year endeavor, and he credited that grueling project for helping him keep his sanity, and heal his heart, in the years after Alystair died. He’d fallen behind on a great many of his actual assignments for the Tower, but to accomplish something he cared about, to do work he was proud of, to show he was still worth something, after such sharp grief had tried to shatter his life? That was worth more than he could ever express.
But he’d never made such an accomplishment public. Even the closest friends he had — which, admittedly, weren’t close, before meeting the twins and starting on this journey — knew nothing of his creation of a Roland-style lightspray display. And surely that wouldn’t have been enough for Maestro Brahe to have made such a fuss over him? And how could she have known he’d even be coming here?
“So all we get are a million questions,” Tsubasa said with a sigh. “Oh! But maybe we’ll get to meet her, like… really meet her! Physically! If she’s so interested in you, and knows this much about you, then your paths crossing is inevitable. It’s only a matter of time!”
“Perhaps,” Roland murmured. He wasn’t sure what to think of that. He would have been honored and amazed to meet Vesper Brahe before today. But knowing she knew so much about him, and even predicted where his path would take him… that made him uneasy.
Their conversation slipped into scattered comments about Loch Reòsair as they walked the long path around the lake of frozen flame. What could be seen from the dock was just a glimpse of the Loch’s true grandeur. Arches of frozen fire, like the solar plumes sighted on the sun through the Hebrides Helioscope, towered hundreds of feet over them, glittering like diamonds in the sun. The longer and closer one looked, the clearer it became that this wasn’t a frozen body of water. The frozen eruptions, plumes, arches, and other features had the wild, fierce texture of roaring fire, not splashing water.
“Is it hot to the touch?” Erika asked, gasping as another crack split across a high tower of erupting fire. Steam gusted out of it, but only for a moment, before the fracture froze shut again, smoothed back over.
“It’s warm,” Tsubasa said. “It won’t burn you, but it’s not cold like watery ice. You can feel the pulse of the flames beneath, the living fire that fills this space. It’s really amazing! Once we’ve checked out the landing site, you should give it a touch before we leave.”
“You’ve touched the Loch before?” Roland asked, staring at her.
“What?” Tsubasa asked innocently. “You can’t fault a girl for being curious.”
“It isn’t wrong to touch,” Muirrach said, “as long as you don’t bring it to harm.”
“And of course I didn’t,” Tsubasa said proudly.
“What happens if you break the ice?” Enrique asked.
“Fire is volatile,” Muirrach said in his rolling, gravelly voice. “Where water can be directed, contained, even tamed, fire longs to be free. Transformed into this frozen, inert state, it still longs to be free. Thus the cracks, and the steam. If it were damaged, burst by impact, however, the transformation would lose what stability it has. Destruction would follow.”
“That’s why they don’t let normal people off of the dock,” Enrique said. He looked ahead, where the edges of the Loch seemed to stretch on forever. “How far is it to the other side?”
“At our pace?” Tsubasa asked. “An hour or so. The Loch’s even farther that way.” She pointed the right, across the Loch. “It’s like an oval. We came in at one of the ‘corners,’ so to speak, and we’re walking around one of its short sides. But that also means, unless you know exactly where the landing site is, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover on the far shore.”
“I know what I’m looking for,” Enrique said. “Once I see the landscape, I’ll be able to find it. Right away.”
“And then we’ll see what we’re dealing with,” Erika murmured. “What’s still left. After Mother and Father took what they needed… and after Reunion might have…” Her voice trembled.
“We don’t know if Reunion’s touched it at all,” Tsubasa said. “Chin up, Erika. We need to see what we’re dealing with, just like you said. Until we do, let’s not worry about what could have happened. It could be better than you expect.”
“I hope so,” Erika said.
It was a beautiful walk, and not just because of the Loch on their right in all its glittering, occasionally steaming, fantasian-filled glory. To their left were the dense, forested foothills of the mountains that surrounded the Loch, making the road they’d taken from Thadheine the only way to Loch Reòsair. Towering, lush pine trees kept their hardy color no matter how cold it got. And despite the warmth of the Loch, that warmth didn’t spread beyond the frozen flame’s borders. They were north of Thadheine, higher up into the mountains, and that brought with it even more of a wintry chill. Roland savored it, and could tell Tsubasa was delighted by it, too. But Muirrach was a bit stiff, his hands shoved in the pockets of his overcoat, its collar turned up to warm his neck. Erika and Enrique both shivered now and then, despite scarves, hats, and mittens they’d bought in town on their way out. Their breaths sometimes misted the air in front of them, though only faintly.
They passed the time with further conversation, which helped the hour to the far shore seem like far less once they finally arrived. The hills on the far shore were lower, the distance to the actual rise of the mountains longer, giving the region along the far shore a wider, flatter appearance. There were several rocky outcroppings — remnants of a once marvelous city in ancient times, some theorized, though they were now so few and so weathered that the truth of those claims could hardly be tested.
“Over there,” Enrique said as soon as he laid eyes on the expanse. He pointed towards one of the tallest rocky formations, about a hundred yards away.
“You really remember?” Erika asked, gazing at her brother in amazement. “I remember the landing, and the hurry to leave, but nothing else.”
“I looked back,” Enrique said, his tone somber. “A few times. I didn’t want to forget.”
“You’re amazing!” Erika said, giving her brother a quick hug.
“Why don’t you two lead the way?” Roland asked, smiling at the twins. “We’ll follow.”
“Oh, um…” Erika started, suddenly hesitant.
“Let’s,” Enrique said, taking his sister’s hand. With that encouragement, Erika walked right beside him across the field, a mixture of sparse grass and firm, dark soil. Roland, Tsubasa, and Muirrach fell in behind the twins alongside each other, and each of them were paying the same attention the ground beneath their feet.
It’s good footing. The Loch doesn’t have sandy shores, and that’s a boon. Because I feel it, too.
Roland glanced aside at Muirrach and Tsubasa, at the unmistakable wariness in their eyes.
It would be hard to ambush us out here. But the closer we get to that outcropping, to their ship…
Roland’s eyes went to the other boulders near where Enrique was leading them. And then to the Loch to the right, where a wave of fire had formed a natural cliff face — high ground, with the unknown on the far side.
Tsubasa pulled out her tonfas, twirling them casually as she walked, humming a jaunty tune. It was perfectly ordinary behavior for her — she pulled out her weapons at all sorts of times when they were just traveling — but right now, Roland knew it was more than that.
They reached the tall outcropping Enrique had indicated, and started towards it. “The ship will be just inside,” Enrique said, leading them towards a wide opening at the base. “We’ll want to check the main computer. If they haven’t cracked the code, then we should still be able to retrieve backup memory files, or something of the sort. We can…”
He trailed off, and then stopped, giving his sister’s hand a gentle tug so she stopped, too. She looked at him, the question in her eyes. Tsubasa, Muirrach, and Roland were already turning towards the Loch, readying for a fight.
And a moment later, out from behind a pillar of frozen flame emerged a young woman clad in blue robes, her face hidden behind an eagle mask. “You can forget about the ship and come with us,” Lairah said, her voice slightly muffled behind the mask. “All that matters is the reunion.”
From all around them — the rocky formations, and even out on the ice — emerged dozens upon dozens of robed, masked members of Reunion, priming their weaponized gauntlets, ready for a fight.