The Silence of Medair

"Fire?" The Mersian’s gaze rested on the withered grass, a puzzled frown creasing her brow. She shook her head, then continued urgently. "Ekarrel, my message is such that it cannot be delayed, even if it seems you no longer know the one who sends it. Estarion’s armies mass. His mages work spells of great strength and speak of bringing down the White City at dawn. My Lady’s spies send word of a new confidence in the Cloaked Lands. They whisper of a weapon of surpassing strength. Over such a distance a warning is all My Lady can send before the dawn, but if a battle is to be joined, the Lady of Silver-on-Water will not allow her presence to be missed for long."

The woman – the Herald – was sincere, impassioned. She was met by blank silence and her steady gaze faltered.

"The Cloaked Lands?" the Kier said, slowly. "Silver-on-Water? Keris N’Taive, I do not understand you. I do not understand you at all."

The Herald shook her head despairingly. "I know not what subtle magic has stolen your memory, Ekarrel," she said. "In the name of the Holy Four, I know not what to say to you."

Medair looked at the Kier’s still face and wondered if she felt as Medair had, when she’d stumbled into Morning High. That stunning dislocation, that irremediable sense of loss. It seemed all Athere had joined her, out of place.

-oOo-

Kier, Herald and entourage had abandoned their attempts to make sense of each other and gone into Athere. After a short pause, curious Atherians had begun to drift in the opposite direction. Hazed and confused, Medair wandered towards the bridge she could see to the east.

The Tarental glittered in the sunlight. The bridge was yellow-white faintly tinged with pink and apparently carved from a solid block of stone. Medair studied it dubiously. It was honeycombed with an intricate pattern of tiny flowers and she could see the water through the smooth arch across which she was supposed to walk. The little holes gave glimpses of sunlight flashing and glittering on flowing water.

Back where the Tarental curved beneath the wall the Ibisians had constructed, a mounted patrol trotted cautiously out of the nearest gate. People milled all about the city, but few were venturing very far from the walls. The sky was a brilliant, almost violent blue and the air was full of the scents of soil and pollen. It still didn’t seem real; not the grey-white city climbing into the sky, the cool forest at her back, or the fields and hills. Or too real. She felt faded in contrast with this glowing world. Small and insignificant and unreal, a ghost of a woman from a past which wasn’t even right any more.

Belatedly, Medair realised she was suffering the side-effects attendant to wearing the ring of invisibility. None of them were serious, but they went badly with her current state of mind. She immediately removed the ring, then grimaced. Doubtless a few thousand people on Athere’s walls had seen a woman suddenly appear from nowhere at the bridge. Well, she was too far away for anyone to make out her features.

With a shrug, she set her feet upon the bridge, which showed no sign of collapsing or doing anything at all unbridge-like. She wasn’t certain why she’d thought it would. The forest was the shortest of walks away, the trees weaving together into an arch over the path. It hardly seemed natural, it was so perfect. Everything looked so…created, placed for effect.

Dappled shadows and bird song. The forest was restful, with plenty of paths to follow among groves of oak and elder. Medair wandered randomly, climbed a small hill and discovered a tiny valley with a pool at the centre. The trees here were small and carefully tended. Medair stared at them for a long time, then plucked a round, dark berry. A black denan.

It was too much. Dropping the supposedly extinct fruit to the ground, Medair left the forest. By this time, others had reached the trees and she met a half-dozen groups wandering. She avoided speaking with them, and made her way back to Athere, to lose herself among the crowd.

-oOo-

The sun was low. She seemed to have been walking in the woods all day, though it had not felt a quarter so long. Hungry, she found her way to a tavern within Cantry Wall, full of excited people, voices bright with relief and incredulity. She slipped into an empty seat and ordered a meal, then listened to the wild stories being exchanged about the claims of the Mersian Herald.