All three books of the Drinsighe trilogy have been planned and blocked out scene by scene, and the final two chapters of book 3 have actually been written. The following is the penultimate chapter of the trilogy.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... After the pedins and faerls left to intercept the ellyllan Savnah ordered 3F to keep everyone well away from her and the silhearion. She called out her thanks to Heytar and Washoffen. She winked a friendly 'See Ya' to Fingerglove. She checked her gun professionally. She adjusted Naimh’s scarf around her waist, taking longer than necessary with it.
‘That’s for luck’ she said.
She asked Eilian to accompany her to the start of the hill. As they strode forth Eilian murmured an enquiry as to her foolproof plan.
‘What foolproof plan? I haven't got a plan. I asked you out here so we can talk about Jem and Bess and Kerin-Ayden and Daffy in private, but I'm certain from your silence about them so far that you won't say anything to ease my grief.’
‘It is no use crying over spilt milk, Savnah’ Eilian said. ‘What can I say except that I am sorry for you. You hide your grief well. You are aware there is a time and a place for everything. That is good. The first rule of battle is Stay focused.’
‘Okay’ Savnah said laughingly. ‘We’ll play it your way. But I bet you’re going crazy wondering why he didn’t tell you that the fomor’s dead.’
‘How could he tell me? Eilian retorted. ‘He is dead, too.
‘Sure, Eilian’ Savnah continued as they reached the hill.‘But like I said to O-bee he probably didn’t tell you because he wanted to give O-bee the chance to prove his mettle.’ She stopped and swung the conversation back to her supposed plan. She said she had no idea what she was going to do. She'd just said that to keep everyone off her back. She sort of slumped emotionally, losing her confident tone of voice.
‘What am I doing here?’ she muttered. ‘I keep telling myself I’m going to take down Tary for Jem and Bess and for Dafholven and Kerin-Ayden and everyone else who died. But really, what can I do to him? It takes a silhearion to kill a silhearion. I’m a reasonable shot with a gun, but bullets aren’t going to kill him. I’m only carrying my gun because it makes me feel braver. I truly don’t know what to do.’
‘You’re a drinsighe’ said Eilian, rather inadequately. ‘It will come to you. Where there is a will there is a way. Besides, the emerald empress will guard you from harm.’
Savnah reached inside her blouse and pulled out her drinsighe token. It was warm from lying against her chest. ‘Maudrin can't come to my aid. I could choose to turn my back on all this and just step through Machlud Gate. It's my choice to play the hero, so I'm on my own. Them's the Maker's rules.’
‘You make your bed, so you have to lie in it?’
‘Something like that. Still, I wish Jem was here. He’d see it through to the end, no matter what.’
‘He is here’ Eilian said, putting her hand on Savnah’s chest. ‘He is here in your heart. Remember that always.’
Savnah remembered and JemSav was back. She unslumped. She grinned at Eilian.
‘I just have to remember the legends and then I'm in there with a shot, at least. I’ve got to be like O-bee. He knows he can't beat Tary, but he's brave enough to want to try. I didn't like him at first, but now I think there's hope for him yet.’
‘He has always been brave and true’ replied Eilian stiffly. ‘He is the faerl king, after all and not without reason. It is just that he is a male in our male-orientated societ. . .’
‘Excuse me for interrupting, Eilian, but we're getting off the track here. You know you'd be out of your league against Tary, but I'd still appreciate your help. Please back up Fingy if he needs it. I wish I could reward those boys. They got me here after Jem … left me. Go now before we both get soppy. And don't go dying on Jem again too soon.’
She started to climb the slope, but Eilian didn't make a move to go back. She stood there watching her go to her doom, but she didn't look particularly sad or worried. Concerned, yes - concerned, because the long-term fate of Tirn Peal hung on the outcome of Savnah's confrontation. Eilian had been renewed more than once. The thought of death didn't have any real effect on her - not even Savnah's death, it appeared.
Just before Savnah started the climb she had been flippant about the task ahead of her and she'd spoken as if the gravity and enormity of her situation wasn't anything to worry about, but she hadn't fooled Eilian. And Eilian knew that she hadn't fooled herself either. Eilian recognized bravery when she saw it. Her heart went out to the attractive girl going into battle against overwhelming odds.
Savnah was nearly halfway up the hill when her teeth began to ache dully. Silhearion ahead she thought. As if I didn’t know.
‘I am proud of you, Savnah - you try to hide your light under a bushel, but you cannot pull the wool over my eyes’ Eilian called up to her. ‘Do not worry too much - right now you might think you have bitten off more than you can chew, but remember that every cloud has a silver lining.’
Savnah stopped to look back incredulously at her.
‘Boy, oh boy, talk about mixed metaphors, or what. I wonder if you know what that all means, because I sure as the underworld don't. By the way, I forgot to tell you how good you look. Death becomes you - renewal does, anyway.’ She shielded her eyes from the overhead sun, to better see Eilian. ‘I know why you're really here, but don’t you dare. If I die I die and if I live I live. That’s how it should be. Maker, I’m glad I’m not a faerl with all that renewal business. I couldn’t live if I knew I couldn’t really die. The boredom would kill me.’
She turned back to the hill and gripped her gun with both hands. She continued her climb.
Here goes nothing, brother of mine. I wonder if this isn't a stupid thing to do. Maybe I’m just a big-headed showoff too.
Eilian started, catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, then she relaxed again. It was only Savnah's three pedins. They ranged themselves along the valley floor facing the camp. They held their guns at the ready, indicating to everyone to stay away. Colonel Woodflute approached at the head of the one remaining squad of the new escort, but Savnah's three pedins aimed their guns at them.
`Halt!` Fingerglove ordered. `Stay where you are.`
They did, but they raised their guns in return.
‘A private giving orders to a colonel’ exclaimed Woodflute. ‘By what authority, pedin?’
‘By the authority of the drinsighe, Sir. Even king Dafholven took notice of her, but by the authority of our cocked weapons if need be. No offence, Sir.’
Eilian had an arrow aimed at Woodflute almost before she reached over her shoulder to her quiver, or so it would've seemed to any onlooker.
‘Please take heed, Colonel’ she shouted. ‘My young friend wants some privacy up there. Do not be too hard on the private. He is just relaying her orders to you. He was not giving you orders. Let us all lower our weapons and let us all follow the orders of Savnah drinsighe. Shall we?’
‘Hrmph, I suppose so’ Woodflute grumped. ‘Everyone knows that you've never submitted yourself to anyone - not colonel, not king. If you're willing to obey her I dare do no less.’
Savnah reached the first of the many boulders at the top of the hill. She crept amongst them with mounting trepidation. This was it. Everything that'd happened to any of them had contributed to placing her at this exact spot at this exact time. Tarindor was somewhere in here - waiting to kill her. She became acutely aware of the hot sun. Heat to be smelt. Stillness to be heard. Silence to be touched. She stood there tossing her head to feel her lovely long tresses twirl around her shoulders. Ah, the feeling of freedom.
Suddenly the ache in her teeth increased noticeably.
‘What's this then? Could it possibly be the pretend-faerl who taunted me with Prince Alwynd's Silh crystal? When I met Estarith near Caanwyllid Volcano she called you a pretend-faerl. But you’re not dressed like one now, are you?’
Savnah whirled towards the sound of the youthful voice amongst the boulders off to her left. It was him - the black silhearion, Tarindor, Tary. Exactly as Kerin-Ayden had described him on Arathae - a handsome young pedin with short brown hair, clean-shaven, a long cloak of many shimmering shades of red and a long, knotted, staff. He couldn't be taken for anything except a silhearion of some elfish variety.
‘Poor Alwynd’ he said lightly. ‘I gave him that crystal. It’s the only one in existence apart from mine, but he didn't know how to call up its power. He didn't even know it has power apart from communication. He was just like you in that regard.’
‘I need no hocus-pocus to deal with you, Tary, but there's another silh crystal’ Savnah said with a bravado she didn't feel. ‘We found its owner in a place you know not. '
‘Another? Another? You found the thief? Hubert? Horatio? Horace! I hope you brought it with you, pretend-soldier, and I hope you brought Alwynd's as well. You'll need every bit of magic there is if you're going to make your pathetic struggle at all interesting.’
Savnah was hit by a wave of insecurity and immediately cloaked herself in invisibility. But no sooner had she done so than she remembered something Jem had said. ‘If we’re going to die don’t ever let it be said we died hiding from life.’ She made herself reappear just seconds after disappearing. ‘I didn't bring either crystal on me, Tary, and I won't be using drinsighe magic’ she taunted. ‘There's no call for any of those to deal with the likes of you.’
Bess and Kerin-Ayden had blown up his old man's body. Along with it had gone his old man's equanimity. His young man’s smiling face hardened. The moreso because of the drin magic he had just witnessed.
‘Allugh, wraive mellom.’
He lifted his staff in front of his body to level it at her. A bolt of silver lightning exploded from it to shaft through the air. He was too hasty. His aim was off. The bolt pierced the outer edge of the large boulder beside her. She was showered with small shards of rock as she dived forward. His second deadly attempt flashed over her head and on in a straight line between the boulders. It left the hilltop at an angle. It sped onwards darkly to kill one of the gate's stone sentinels. It hit the cliff with such force that it blew away the sentinel's entire upper body, except for his sword arm and his sword.
Tarindor's aim had been off because he'd been rattled by her allusion to Horace and by her strange declaration about the silh crystals.
‘I didn't bring either crystal on me.’
What if that thief Horace had accompanied her? She'd been very careful not to say simply that she hadn't brought the crystals.
‘On me. On me. On me!’
Tarindor had felt invincible, because he'd believed himself to be the only silhearion alive. He'd forgotten about Horace. The Horace he'd known all those years ago had been a lightweight, a weasel, but what if he'd since learnt to command the silh's full power?? Tarindor had felt so secure, so smug, because only a silhearion can kill a silhearion and he'd known that he was the only silhearion left. He'd been astounded by the drinsighe's open approach up the valley and later by her brazen confrontation of him. She must know that she can't kill him permanently. She and the other drinsighe hadn't been able to do the job at Ellydd Gate.
What if she is acting as bait, to divert his attention while Horace snuck along the line of boulders? Only a silhearion can kill a silhearion. That’s her trump card.
He was suddenly fearful for his life. He had no doubt that head-to-head he could eradicate Horace like the vermin he was, but he knew that the weasel would attack him while he was off-guard - while the drinsighe had his attention. He whirled this way and that, holding his staff before him like an extension of his arm, searching with wild eyes for the weasel.
Savnah took advantage of this short-lived reprieve. She snapped off two shots from the ground, shots that blew his staff out of his hand. The bullets split the staff asunder before they blasted through his hand to exit from his lower arm. They were deflected at different angles by his shattered wrist bones. The first of them flew upward to splinter his bottom rib up into his right lung. The second of them travelled down and out to smash down into his right hip. His wild look changed to one of stunned surprise. His injured leg gave way. He tumbled sideways.
The first bullet had killed him. Savnah watched in silence as a rivulet of black-red blood seeped out from under him. Blood oozed from his broken right hand. Blood oozed from his gaping chest wound. Blood oozed from his shattered hip. She rose to her feet carefully, never taking her eyes off him. She took two hesitant steps towards him. His injured hand moved faintly, stopping her in her tracks. Ever-so-slowly he dragged himself upright. He still had his young face, but he now spoke in his familiar old man's voice.
‘Good shooting, Savnah pretend-soldier. You can kill my beautiful young body a hundred times, but you know you can't kill me. No more rushing back to my master now. He taught me how to bring my body back to life. All the bullets in all the worlds won't make me stay dead.’
His lovely shimmering cloak was caked black at the front with blood and dirt. He reached inside it slowly with his left hand to get his silh crystal. Savnah didn't move. He held it high and it sucked in the hot sun's energy. It sparkled green in his hand. It flashed green in his hand.
‘Goodbye, pretend-faerl.’
His hand blurred downward, aiming at her.
He shouldn't have spoken, because his apocalyptic words spurred her into action. She leapt behind the nearest boulder an instant before he unleashed a green bolt of raw energy. It missed her, but it hit a boulder that was a bit to the left and behind where she'd been standing. The boulder was blasted backwards to roll down into the valley. It only narrowly missed Heytar at the bottom of the hill.
Tarindor aimed the crystal at the boulder that hid Savnah. He paused to make certain of his aim. Once again green energy shot forth from his crystal.The boulder disintegrated in a spectacular shower of rock, but she was no longer behind it. He hobbled painfully to where she'd been. His eye was caught by the glint of sunlight from near a lone boulder towards the edge of the hilltop. She hadn't tucked her drinsighe token back inside her blouse earlier. It was reflecting the sun.
She knew that bullets couldn't harm him permanently. She only used them to slow him down until something happened to save her. Her ploy to get him distracted by Horace had worked. It had bought her valuable seconds. She hoped bullets would do the same. She switched her gun to 'Auto’. She unleashed a burst at him, but missed.She had been looking into the sun. Green lightning flashed at her from his crystal. It struck her gun and blasted it out of her hands. He had her defenceless, naked. He smirked satisfaction, knowing his next blast would finish her.
He aimed slowly and deliberately at her chest, her exploding body already in his mind's eye. He unleashed a bolt of explosive power. But at that instant he glimpsed Horace at the extreme edge of his peripheral vision, making him flinch involuntarily. The energy made short work of the boulder beside her -an explosion of painful rock fragments. She was completely without protection. Once again Horace flitted from boulder to boulder, making obvious noises this time to attract Tarindor`s attention, but still so fast that he couldn’t see that it was actually Oburnam. Oburnam was trying to buy time for Savnah, but to no avail. The last blast had sent out a shock wave that rocked her, disoriertating her. She was a startled fawn trapped in the headlights of a speeding log truck. She looked around her frantically. All she saw was a spot of sunlight that her token was reflecting onto the ground near her feet. Reflecting! A mirror!
Tarindor was aiming at her slowly and carefully. No need to hurry now. She had no way to defend herself and nowhere to hide. She knew that if she didn't move she'd be killed. And that if she moved she'd merely take a bit longer to kill. She dived to the right. He followed her with his crystal. She slipped her token off over her head as she dived. He drew a bead on her forehead. He began to channel his magic and his hatred into his crystal one more time. It seemed to grow in his hand, pressure building. He waited while it swelled more. He began the two-word incantation that'd release his pressurized magic, but at that moment a bright flash of light blinded him.
She had reflected sunlight into his eyes with her token. He instinctively started to raise his hands to shield his eyes from the glare and his green bolt shot harmlessly into the air.
‘This's terrific’ Savnah muttered to herself from the ground. ‘I'm reduced to fighting him with a mirror. How can I hope to kill a silhearion with a mirror.’
Whack! She was hit between the eyes with a sledgehammer. A sledgehammer of realization. Jem had realized it just before he'd died.
‘You can . . . kill him, Savnah. . . . Horace . . . was . . . ri . . .’
Horace was right. Horace was right. And way back on Arathae Jem had joked that they could kill the silhearion with Aloxdrin’s scales.
She rose to her knees, a humbled supplicant.
‘Please stop, Mr Tarindor, Sir. Please stop - I surrender’
She held her token out with the painted drinsighe side facing her. She was holding it directly in front of her at arm's length.
‘This drin scale's priceless. You can have it, Sir. Please don't hurt me’
Tarindor laughed a hollow laugh, an old man's laugh.
‘Farewell, pretend-faerl. This is what I think of your shiny little drin's scale.’
Green lightning erupted from his crystal and shot directly to her token. It was going to blast the token and her at the same time. It hit squarely, but the impenetrable armour stood firm. The green bolt reflected off it to flash back at him. It struck his chest and continued through his body to explode into a boulder. His handsome young face took on an expression of absolute amazement.
He aged before Savnah's eyes. A stooped old man with a great weight on his back. Face wrinkled and dry. Rheumy eyes, sunken chin, sparse beard. Hands gnarled and arthritic. His shimmering cloak began to fade. He toppled backwards. Savnah knew he was dead long before he hit the ground. Really dead. Not just body dead.
She'd won. She remained on her knees with her arm outstretched in front of her for ages, silently repeating Horace’s words.
A silhearion will kill him and a mirror will kill him and a drinsighe will kill him.
Her senses had been addled by the ear-shattering blasts of his lightning bolts. Everything reverted to its former status now. She became aware of the hot sun again. A blue-bereted soldier burst over the edge of the hill to dash to the cover of a boulder, then Ghillie Dhu with another faerl from the other direction, another faerl and another Skyblue Beret. Soon the full escort squad and the rest of the faerls were fanning out to secure the whole boulder area. 3F and Woodflute followed the soldiers up to the hilltop and Savnah's three pedins brought up the rear. The wounded faerls had been lain on the ground and Eilian and Oburnam could be seen through a gap in the boulders tending them. Eilian said something that sent Oburnam hurrying in to Woodflute while she delved into her pouch for a loaf of mannahl.
A short, intense firefight somewhere up the mountainside, then nothing.
‘That is the last of them finished’ Oburnam said. He stopped in front of Woodflute. ‘There is no need for them –’ he indicated outwards in the direction of the troops and faerls surrounding the boulders ‘- to play Soldiers anymore. Get them to find me some fennelwhurt – now!’
‘Hang on, Woody’ Savnah called. She undid her pouch from around her waist and climbed to her feet wearily. She came over and handed it to Oburnam. ‘There’s some in there. And King Oburnam? – Thanks for your help just now. I’d be dead if you hadn’t distracted him.’
Oburnam nodded, a comrade. He hurried back to Eilian with the pouch, taking fennelwhurt out of it as he went. Eilian tore the moist centre out of the loaf and handed half to him. He in turn gave her half the fennelwhurt. They both kneeded their fennelwhurt into their soft mannahl and spread it over the prone faerls’ wounds.
The explosive sounds of the confrontation had echoed loudly over the valley, a boulder had been blasted down past Heytar and a cloud of small rocks had showered over the waiting troops. Heytar the lucky, as he now deserved to be called, had also missed being pierced by Savnah's falling gun by a hair's breadth. (When Heytar was still in short pants he thought that was 'a hare's breath’. He couldn’t imagine how the distance a hare's breath travelled was measured.) After a minute or so of silence and inactivity had elapsed Fingerglove had judged that the combat had been decided one way or the other, so he'd let everyone through.
‘The silhearion 's dead. He's really dead’ 3F declared loudly when he saw his body. ‘His body's still here,. . .’
‘His cloak's dull brown except for the blood.’
‘His staff's split in two way over there.’
‘. . . even his silh crystal's here. He'd never leave any of that if his spirit was still alive. Especially his crystal. You've done it, Savnah, you've done it.’
Savnah stopped watching Oburnam and Eilian at work and turned her attention to him and the others, not seeing Eilian get up and walk towards her. ‘Of course he's really dead’ she said tiredly. ‘My teeth have stopped hurting completely.’
‘What? Your teeth have stopped hurting?’
‘Oh, never mind.’
She noticed that her three pedins were hanging back from Woodflute sheepishly.
Uh-oh she thought. I got them into trouble.
‘Savnah?”
Savnah jumped at the voice behind her. ‘Maker, Eilian – you’re as bad as the horses. Don’t creep up on me like that.’
‘Here.’ Eilian handed her pouch to her. ‘I was not creeping.’
‘I know, but still –.’ She looked to the wounded faerls. They weren’t there. ‘It works a treat, doesn’t it? I used it on a pedin with his shoulder smashed.’
‘How – of course you did.’
‘But why didn’t you just let them die and be renewed?’
‘Death from gunshots can take hours or even days of agony’ Eilian said. ‘No one wants to go through that. Queen Naimh says I let myself get killed so I can get renewed, but really?’
‘Those guys are going to cop it from Woody’ Savnah said, nodding at her pedins. ‘I’m too tired to sort it out,. Just do a Jem on him for me, please.’
Eilian didn’t have to act like Jem. She simply said to Woodflute once again that they had been acting under the drinsighe’s orders. They had been above his authority. If it had not been for their tireless search for her she would have been murdered by the bandits too. If they had not kept everyone down in the valley just now she would not have been able to concentrate enough to beat the silhearion. He was not to ever reprimand them publicly or privately for their actions. In fact he was to recommend to 3F that they be decorated and promoted for their service to her.
‘I am sure the prime minister will agree with your recommendation’ she said loudly, as if 3F couldn't hear her. ‘It is obvious to everyone that he owes her even more now.’
‘We all do’ said 3F.
‘And we will repay you, Savnah drinsighe’ whispered Eilian to herself.
Savnah looked down at the silhearion's body, saying to 3F that there appeared to be a dearth of silhearions in Tirn Peal now.
‘You guys seem to like having them around. Jem and I gave you the mushroomers. We may as well give you a new silhearion we found in our travels. In fact we'll give you two. You've got mushroomers, so you can always have mushrooms. With two silhearions to train apprentices you'll always have silhearions.’
Her voice didn't have its normal sparkle in it. She was tired - bone-tired. All the past weeks were galloping towards her - the duergar, the ellyllan, Ellydd Gate, Druigmord Blied, Ggwillyn caves, the Keep, Rainbow wood, the rope bridge, the silhearion and more. Her body was tired, her mind was tired. She waved Fingerglove to her and used his shoulder for support. She explained to 3F how to find the Danaan entrance to the caves of Wonder and she asked Eilian to get Azor to show him if he had any trouble finding it. He'd find a couple of silhearions near a lake in the valley beyond the caves. One of them was a bit eccentric, but he was a damn good silhearion. He told them the seemingly-impossible method of the silhearion's death.
A silhearion will kill him and a mirror will kill him and a drinsighe will kill him.
His name was Horace. The other silhearion was known by the unusual name of Pesky. He had strange glow about him, but he shouldn't be any problem to a people who accepted a rat as their prime minister.
‘Oops. Sorry, 3F. Only joking’ Savnah apologized. ‘You’re nothing like that now. You look so different. Worthy, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I meant before you became 3F. When you were just the king’s adviser.’
3F nodded solemnly, hiding his pride.
Savnah went back to talking about Horace and Pesky, saying that the two were inseparable. She was sure they'd both relocate closer to Starleigh if 3F offered to move Horace's rather-different little home to a secluded rural setting with good fishing.
‘That's Lake Wendmead to a T’ 3F muttered to himself.
‘I'll let them know you're coming’ Savnah said lethargically. ‘Hand me Tarindor's crystal, please. You could do this yourself, anyone could, but I need to talk to Horace anyway.’
She put an image of Horace in her mind then she spoke to the crystal as if it were him. Not vastly different to ESP. She had to call for him about eight times before he answered. Even then he was reluctant to actually converse. Savnah had to first prove her identity by enumerating on the wonderful times he had shared with her and Jem.
‘There's other people listening, Horace - important people, so it might be best if I don't go into too much detail’ she said tiredly. ‘We watched you throw a stone, we watched you light a fire , we -’
‘Enough, girl’ yelped Horace. ‘You are who you say you are. Now, what do you want?’
Savnah told him first and foremost that Tarindor was dead, really dead this time.
‘And you share the credit’ she said. ‘It was you who told us how to kill him. Remember telling us that a silhearion and a mirror and a drinsighe would all kill him? All I had to do was to put those three in the same place at the same time. Thanks, Horace. You're a wonderful silhearion, truly.’
She went on to tell him that it was safe for him to leave the valley of wonder now that Tarindor was dead, that Starleigh desperately needed him to be it's resident silhearion (with an ideal country fishing retreat as part of his salary package) and that he was needed to assume the mantle of high master of a new order of silher to be made up of silhearions he'd train.
‘Thank you, but I can’t’ said Horace sadly. ‘I know in my heart that I’m a really good silhearion, but I never learnt more than the simplest spells. I might be good at giving you a riddle about that Tarindor, but I don’t know any silheary to help ordinary people with ordinary problems.’
‘Everything will be okay’ Savnah replied, feeling for him.’I’ve been thinking about this ever since we left you. You’re the holder of the secret of secrets. Out here you’ll have instant access to everything a silhearion will ever need to know.’
‘There's one catch’ she qualified. ‘You have to bring your little grey nemesis as your assistant. It's long past time you two made up, anyway.’
‘I wouldn’t tell this to anyone except you, girl,’ he said,’And that’s only because you’ve done a wondrous thing to that horrid, horrid Tarindor. The thing is young Pesky's wonderful company in his own way. If I leave the valley he'd have to want to come too. I can’t be expected to make up my mind on the spot, but I promise to think about it.
Now, please let me go to catch our lunch.’
Our lunch? Savnah thought. Things must be looking up for those two. ‘Talking about lunch – Pesky will probably start eating more soon’ she said into the crystal. ‘Now Tarindor’s really dead won’t his spells fade away? Won’t Pesky become a person again?’
‘Yes, girl’ answered Horace. ‘I better start catching more fish, wouldn’t you say?’
After Horace had signed off to go fishing Savnah, typical thoughtful Savnah to the end, remembered something else that might help Tirn Peal.
‘Um, 3F? she began awkwardly, never liking blowing her own trumpet. ‘Dafholven probably told you how Jem and I took the faerl horses back to Arathae …’
‘That he did, Savnah’ interrupted 3F. ‘The faerls had been without their fabled steeds for three hundred years. You two just happened to find the only pair that were still alive from back then … and about two dozen of their offspring. You rode them across the surface of the sea to the hidden faerl kingdom. You gave the faerls back the means to regain their horseriding honour. I know that was all in a day’s work for the drinsighe, but I bet they wanted to give you the world.’
‘Actually’ Savnah said, thinking fleetingly of Kerin-Ayden, ‘actually, they didn’t say anything at the time except thanks. Of course, they were probably still trying to get their heads around the fact that the most important faerl horses ever had let two ordinary aillas ride them.’
‘Yes, very ordinary’ muttered 3F to himself. ‘Very ordinary like a five-headed pedin is very ordinary.’
‘Just before leaving Arathae I remembered that’ Savnah continued. ‘So I asked King Oburnam for a gratuity. I got him to promise that if ever you pedins get horses again he won’t do anything bad to them like last time.’
‘That was good of you’ said 3F unenthusiastically, ‘but we’re not about to create horses out of thin air, are we?’
‘Well no, 3F, but out of misty air is another thing’ Savnah smirked. She told him about all the wild horses up in the high country in Arborland. ‘I left directions to the valley of wonder in your tent, just in case things went bad with Tary’ she told him. ‘But I told you how to get there just before so you can go there to find your new silhearions, didn’t I? While you’re there you can do a deal with the harpeps to supply Starliegh with horses.’
On that note she turned and started walking away. Over her shoulder she said she was heading back to camp for a rest. Her three pedins came to her, but first Washoffen spoke with Eilian. All Savnah caught was Eilian’s low ‘Strike while the iron’s hot, pedin.’
All the other pedins and faerls had dribbled in to gawk at the silhearion's body. Washoffen and Heytar had to elbow a path through them for Savnah to start off down the hill.
Woodflute set about forming up his pedins and Oburnam's faerls in separate orderly groups, no mean task under the circumstances. Oburnam had briefed Eilian earlier about his new aim of forming closer ties with Tirn Peal. When he began to talk to 3F about their joint relief and their peoples' futures together, Eilian stayed around to support him.
Savnah felt better with every step she put between herself and the silhearion’s body.
‘I'm not stopping at the camp, boys’ she said, more life in her voice. ‘It's time I went home. Please say my goodbyes. I'll miss you three. I reckon we had the makings of a good team. Maybe I'll see you in Starleigh one day. I'll probably visit Drin Lair sometime. Maudrin promised to fly me to Starleigh if I do - me and Jem and Bess, actually. . . . Ah, well. . . . . . . Anyway, thank you all for everything.’
‘Thank you, Savnah. Thank you for allowing us to be part of history’ said Fingerglove passionately.
‘And thank you for getting us to try mannahl’ Heytar added. ‘It was the experience of a lifetime.’
‘The faerl warrior said to thank you for our decorations and promotions, ma'am. Why did you bother to get her to ask at a time when there were obviously more important things on your mind?’ asked Washoffen.
‘Eilian told you why, WJ’ Savnah replied lightly. ‘She said strike while the iron's hot. Learn that lesson well. I learned it when Jem did that to your dead king Dafholven after Ellydd Gate. Always strike while the iron's hot.’
They passed between the tents without stopping. As they approached the gate (with its one full sentinel and one missing sentinel) Savnah told them that they might be about to witness her making a fool of herself. She hated goodbyes, so she wanted to slip away unnoticed - but she didn’t know the password. The drin didn't need passwords. She was gambling that drinsighe didn't need them either.
They stopped at the looming cliff. It climbed upward storeys above them. Fingerglove slapped it with his hand. It was as hard as rock; a huge, sheer, smooth, rock that was part of a mountain.
‘Well, this's it’ Savnah said. ‘Tell Eilian I wouldn't ever consider going with her while I've got a second of this life left to be lived, please.’
She hugged a surprised Heytar. She kissed him full on the mouth. She did the same to Washoffen, urging him to practice his shooting more. She kissed Fingerglove. Some might say that she and Fingerglove lip-locked for an inordinately long time; that this indicated an underlying love between them. There wasn't any such love, just last-minute affection. When they finally came up for air she disentangled herself to face the cliff.
‘Savnah, wait a minute! You can't go yet!’ a voice shouted from a distance.
3F was tearing through the camp with Eilian by his side. Oburnam was just a few paces behind them. Woodflute was watching Savnah as he marched both sets of soldiers down the hill. She waved gaily to them all as if she was going on a holiday.
‘See yuz!’
She looked at her three pedins fondly.
‘May the Maker be with you always, fellas. Bye.’
She stepped into the cliff.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... After the pedins and faerls left to intercept the ellyllan Savnah ordered 3F to keep everyone well away from her and the silhearion. She called out her thanks to Heytar and Washoffen. She winked a friendly 'See Ya' to Fingerglove. She checked her gun professionally. She adjusted Naimh’s scarf around her waist, taking longer than necessary with it.
‘That’s for luck’ she said.
She asked Eilian to accompany her to the start of the hill. As they strode forth Eilian murmured an enquiry as to her foolproof plan.
‘What foolproof plan? I haven't got a plan. I asked you out here so we can talk about Jem and Bess and Kerin-Ayden and Daffy in private, but I'm certain from your silence about them so far that you won't say anything to ease my grief.’
‘It is no use crying over spilt milk, Savnah’ Eilian said. ‘What can I say except that I am sorry for you. You hide your grief well. You are aware there is a time and a place for everything. That is good. The first rule of battle is Stay focused.’
‘Okay’ Savnah said laughingly. ‘We’ll play it your way. But I bet you’re going crazy wondering why he didn’t tell you that the fomor’s dead.’
‘How could he tell me? Eilian retorted. ‘He is dead, too.
‘Sure, Eilian’ Savnah continued as they reached the hill.‘But like I said to O-bee he probably didn’t tell you because he wanted to give O-bee the chance to prove his mettle.’ She stopped and swung the conversation back to her supposed plan. She said she had no idea what she was going to do. She'd just said that to keep everyone off her back. She sort of slumped emotionally, losing her confident tone of voice.
‘What am I doing here?’ she muttered. ‘I keep telling myself I’m going to take down Tary for Jem and Bess and for Dafholven and Kerin-Ayden and everyone else who died. But really, what can I do to him? It takes a silhearion to kill a silhearion. I’m a reasonable shot with a gun, but bullets aren’t going to kill him. I’m only carrying my gun because it makes me feel braver. I truly don’t know what to do.’
‘You’re a drinsighe’ said Eilian, rather inadequately. ‘It will come to you. Where there is a will there is a way. Besides, the emerald empress will guard you from harm.’
Savnah reached inside her blouse and pulled out her drinsighe token. It was warm from lying against her chest. ‘Maudrin can't come to my aid. I could choose to turn my back on all this and just step through Machlud Gate. It's my choice to play the hero, so I'm on my own. Them's the Maker's rules.’
‘You make your bed, so you have to lie in it?’
‘Something like that. Still, I wish Jem was here. He’d see it through to the end, no matter what.’
‘He is here’ Eilian said, putting her hand on Savnah’s chest. ‘He is here in your heart. Remember that always.’
Savnah remembered and JemSav was back. She unslumped. She grinned at Eilian.
‘I just have to remember the legends and then I'm in there with a shot, at least. I’ve got to be like O-bee. He knows he can't beat Tary, but he's brave enough to want to try. I didn't like him at first, but now I think there's hope for him yet.’
‘He has always been brave and true’ replied Eilian stiffly. ‘He is the faerl king, after all and not without reason. It is just that he is a male in our male-orientated societ. . .’
‘Excuse me for interrupting, Eilian, but we're getting off the track here. You know you'd be out of your league against Tary, but I'd still appreciate your help. Please back up Fingy if he needs it. I wish I could reward those boys. They got me here after Jem … left me. Go now before we both get soppy. And don't go dying on Jem again too soon.’
She started to climb the slope, but Eilian didn't make a move to go back. She stood there watching her go to her doom, but she didn't look particularly sad or worried. Concerned, yes - concerned, because the long-term fate of Tirn Peal hung on the outcome of Savnah's confrontation. Eilian had been renewed more than once. The thought of death didn't have any real effect on her - not even Savnah's death, it appeared.
Just before Savnah started the climb she had been flippant about the task ahead of her and she'd spoken as if the gravity and enormity of her situation wasn't anything to worry about, but she hadn't fooled Eilian. And Eilian knew that she hadn't fooled herself either. Eilian recognized bravery when she saw it. Her heart went out to the attractive girl going into battle against overwhelming odds.
Savnah was nearly halfway up the hill when her teeth began to ache dully. Silhearion ahead she thought. As if I didn’t know.
‘I am proud of you, Savnah - you try to hide your light under a bushel, but you cannot pull the wool over my eyes’ Eilian called up to her. ‘Do not worry too much - right now you might think you have bitten off more than you can chew, but remember that every cloud has a silver lining.’
Savnah stopped to look back incredulously at her.
‘Boy, oh boy, talk about mixed metaphors, or what. I wonder if you know what that all means, because I sure as the underworld don't. By the way, I forgot to tell you how good you look. Death becomes you - renewal does, anyway.’ She shielded her eyes from the overhead sun, to better see Eilian. ‘I know why you're really here, but don’t you dare. If I die I die and if I live I live. That’s how it should be. Maker, I’m glad I’m not a faerl with all that renewal business. I couldn’t live if I knew I couldn’t really die. The boredom would kill me.’
She turned back to the hill and gripped her gun with both hands. She continued her climb.
Here goes nothing, brother of mine. I wonder if this isn't a stupid thing to do. Maybe I’m just a big-headed showoff too.
Eilian started, catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, then she relaxed again. It was only Savnah's three pedins. They ranged themselves along the valley floor facing the camp. They held their guns at the ready, indicating to everyone to stay away. Colonel Woodflute approached at the head of the one remaining squad of the new escort, but Savnah's three pedins aimed their guns at them.
`Halt!` Fingerglove ordered. `Stay where you are.`
They did, but they raised their guns in return.
‘A private giving orders to a colonel’ exclaimed Woodflute. ‘By what authority, pedin?’
‘By the authority of the drinsighe, Sir. Even king Dafholven took notice of her, but by the authority of our cocked weapons if need be. No offence, Sir.’
Eilian had an arrow aimed at Woodflute almost before she reached over her shoulder to her quiver, or so it would've seemed to any onlooker.
‘Please take heed, Colonel’ she shouted. ‘My young friend wants some privacy up there. Do not be too hard on the private. He is just relaying her orders to you. He was not giving you orders. Let us all lower our weapons and let us all follow the orders of Savnah drinsighe. Shall we?’
‘Hrmph, I suppose so’ Woodflute grumped. ‘Everyone knows that you've never submitted yourself to anyone - not colonel, not king. If you're willing to obey her I dare do no less.’
Savnah reached the first of the many boulders at the top of the hill. She crept amongst them with mounting trepidation. This was it. Everything that'd happened to any of them had contributed to placing her at this exact spot at this exact time. Tarindor was somewhere in here - waiting to kill her. She became acutely aware of the hot sun. Heat to be smelt. Stillness to be heard. Silence to be touched. She stood there tossing her head to feel her lovely long tresses twirl around her shoulders. Ah, the feeling of freedom.
Suddenly the ache in her teeth increased noticeably.
‘What's this then? Could it possibly be the pretend-faerl who taunted me with Prince Alwynd's Silh crystal? When I met Estarith near Caanwyllid Volcano she called you a pretend-faerl. But you’re not dressed like one now, are you?’
Savnah whirled towards the sound of the youthful voice amongst the boulders off to her left. It was him - the black silhearion, Tarindor, Tary. Exactly as Kerin-Ayden had described him on Arathae - a handsome young pedin with short brown hair, clean-shaven, a long cloak of many shimmering shades of red and a long, knotted, staff. He couldn't be taken for anything except a silhearion of some elfish variety.
‘Poor Alwynd’ he said lightly. ‘I gave him that crystal. It’s the only one in existence apart from mine, but he didn't know how to call up its power. He didn't even know it has power apart from communication. He was just like you in that regard.’
‘I need no hocus-pocus to deal with you, Tary, but there's another silh crystal’ Savnah said with a bravado she didn't feel. ‘We found its owner in a place you know not. '
‘Another? Another? You found the thief? Hubert? Horatio? Horace! I hope you brought it with you, pretend-soldier, and I hope you brought Alwynd's as well. You'll need every bit of magic there is if you're going to make your pathetic struggle at all interesting.’
Savnah was hit by a wave of insecurity and immediately cloaked herself in invisibility. But no sooner had she done so than she remembered something Jem had said. ‘If we’re going to die don’t ever let it be said we died hiding from life.’ She made herself reappear just seconds after disappearing. ‘I didn't bring either crystal on me, Tary, and I won't be using drinsighe magic’ she taunted. ‘There's no call for any of those to deal with the likes of you.’
Bess and Kerin-Ayden had blown up his old man's body. Along with it had gone his old man's equanimity. His young man’s smiling face hardened. The moreso because of the drin magic he had just witnessed.
‘Allugh, wraive mellom.’
He lifted his staff in front of his body to level it at her. A bolt of silver lightning exploded from it to shaft through the air. He was too hasty. His aim was off. The bolt pierced the outer edge of the large boulder beside her. She was showered with small shards of rock as she dived forward. His second deadly attempt flashed over her head and on in a straight line between the boulders. It left the hilltop at an angle. It sped onwards darkly to kill one of the gate's stone sentinels. It hit the cliff with such force that it blew away the sentinel's entire upper body, except for his sword arm and his sword.
Tarindor's aim had been off because he'd been rattled by her allusion to Horace and by her strange declaration about the silh crystals.
‘I didn't bring either crystal on me.’
What if that thief Horace had accompanied her? She'd been very careful not to say simply that she hadn't brought the crystals.
‘On me. On me. On me!’
Tarindor had felt invincible, because he'd believed himself to be the only silhearion alive. He'd forgotten about Horace. The Horace he'd known all those years ago had been a lightweight, a weasel, but what if he'd since learnt to command the silh's full power?? Tarindor had felt so secure, so smug, because only a silhearion can kill a silhearion and he'd known that he was the only silhearion left. He'd been astounded by the drinsighe's open approach up the valley and later by her brazen confrontation of him. She must know that she can't kill him permanently. She and the other drinsighe hadn't been able to do the job at Ellydd Gate.
What if she is acting as bait, to divert his attention while Horace snuck along the line of boulders? Only a silhearion can kill a silhearion. That’s her trump card.
He was suddenly fearful for his life. He had no doubt that head-to-head he could eradicate Horace like the vermin he was, but he knew that the weasel would attack him while he was off-guard - while the drinsighe had his attention. He whirled this way and that, holding his staff before him like an extension of his arm, searching with wild eyes for the weasel.
Savnah took advantage of this short-lived reprieve. She snapped off two shots from the ground, shots that blew his staff out of his hand. The bullets split the staff asunder before they blasted through his hand to exit from his lower arm. They were deflected at different angles by his shattered wrist bones. The first of them flew upward to splinter his bottom rib up into his right lung. The second of them travelled down and out to smash down into his right hip. His wild look changed to one of stunned surprise. His injured leg gave way. He tumbled sideways.
The first bullet had killed him. Savnah watched in silence as a rivulet of black-red blood seeped out from under him. Blood oozed from his broken right hand. Blood oozed from his gaping chest wound. Blood oozed from his shattered hip. She rose to her feet carefully, never taking her eyes off him. She took two hesitant steps towards him. His injured hand moved faintly, stopping her in her tracks. Ever-so-slowly he dragged himself upright. He still had his young face, but he now spoke in his familiar old man's voice.
‘Good shooting, Savnah pretend-soldier. You can kill my beautiful young body a hundred times, but you know you can't kill me. No more rushing back to my master now. He taught me how to bring my body back to life. All the bullets in all the worlds won't make me stay dead.’
His lovely shimmering cloak was caked black at the front with blood and dirt. He reached inside it slowly with his left hand to get his silh crystal. Savnah didn't move. He held it high and it sucked in the hot sun's energy. It sparkled green in his hand. It flashed green in his hand.
‘Goodbye, pretend-faerl.’
His hand blurred downward, aiming at her.
He shouldn't have spoken, because his apocalyptic words spurred her into action. She leapt behind the nearest boulder an instant before he unleashed a green bolt of raw energy. It missed her, but it hit a boulder that was a bit to the left and behind where she'd been standing. The boulder was blasted backwards to roll down into the valley. It only narrowly missed Heytar at the bottom of the hill.
Tarindor aimed the crystal at the boulder that hid Savnah. He paused to make certain of his aim. Once again green energy shot forth from his crystal.The boulder disintegrated in a spectacular shower of rock, but she was no longer behind it. He hobbled painfully to where she'd been. His eye was caught by the glint of sunlight from near a lone boulder towards the edge of the hilltop. She hadn't tucked her drinsighe token back inside her blouse earlier. It was reflecting the sun.
She knew that bullets couldn't harm him permanently. She only used them to slow him down until something happened to save her. Her ploy to get him distracted by Horace had worked. It had bought her valuable seconds. She hoped bullets would do the same. She switched her gun to 'Auto’. She unleashed a burst at him, but missed.She had been looking into the sun. Green lightning flashed at her from his crystal. It struck her gun and blasted it out of her hands. He had her defenceless, naked. He smirked satisfaction, knowing his next blast would finish her.
He aimed slowly and deliberately at her chest, her exploding body already in his mind's eye. He unleashed a bolt of explosive power. But at that instant he glimpsed Horace at the extreme edge of his peripheral vision, making him flinch involuntarily. The energy made short work of the boulder beside her -an explosion of painful rock fragments. She was completely without protection. Once again Horace flitted from boulder to boulder, making obvious noises this time to attract Tarindor`s attention, but still so fast that he couldn’t see that it was actually Oburnam. Oburnam was trying to buy time for Savnah, but to no avail. The last blast had sent out a shock wave that rocked her, disoriertating her. She was a startled fawn trapped in the headlights of a speeding log truck. She looked around her frantically. All she saw was a spot of sunlight that her token was reflecting onto the ground near her feet. Reflecting! A mirror!
Tarindor was aiming at her slowly and carefully. No need to hurry now. She had no way to defend herself and nowhere to hide. She knew that if she didn't move she'd be killed. And that if she moved she'd merely take a bit longer to kill. She dived to the right. He followed her with his crystal. She slipped her token off over her head as she dived. He drew a bead on her forehead. He began to channel his magic and his hatred into his crystal one more time. It seemed to grow in his hand, pressure building. He waited while it swelled more. He began the two-word incantation that'd release his pressurized magic, but at that moment a bright flash of light blinded him.
She had reflected sunlight into his eyes with her token. He instinctively started to raise his hands to shield his eyes from the glare and his green bolt shot harmlessly into the air.
‘This's terrific’ Savnah muttered to herself from the ground. ‘I'm reduced to fighting him with a mirror. How can I hope to kill a silhearion with a mirror.’
Whack! She was hit between the eyes with a sledgehammer. A sledgehammer of realization. Jem had realized it just before he'd died.
‘You can . . . kill him, Savnah. . . . Horace . . . was . . . ri . . .’
Horace was right. Horace was right. And way back on Arathae Jem had joked that they could kill the silhearion with Aloxdrin’s scales.
She rose to her knees, a humbled supplicant.
‘Please stop, Mr Tarindor, Sir. Please stop - I surrender’
She held her token out with the painted drinsighe side facing her. She was holding it directly in front of her at arm's length.
‘This drin scale's priceless. You can have it, Sir. Please don't hurt me’
Tarindor laughed a hollow laugh, an old man's laugh.
‘Farewell, pretend-faerl. This is what I think of your shiny little drin's scale.’
Green lightning erupted from his crystal and shot directly to her token. It was going to blast the token and her at the same time. It hit squarely, but the impenetrable armour stood firm. The green bolt reflected off it to flash back at him. It struck his chest and continued through his body to explode into a boulder. His handsome young face took on an expression of absolute amazement.
He aged before Savnah's eyes. A stooped old man with a great weight on his back. Face wrinkled and dry. Rheumy eyes, sunken chin, sparse beard. Hands gnarled and arthritic. His shimmering cloak began to fade. He toppled backwards. Savnah knew he was dead long before he hit the ground. Really dead. Not just body dead.
She'd won. She remained on her knees with her arm outstretched in front of her for ages, silently repeating Horace’s words.
A silhearion will kill him and a mirror will kill him and a drinsighe will kill him.
Her senses had been addled by the ear-shattering blasts of his lightning bolts. Everything reverted to its former status now. She became aware of the hot sun again. A blue-bereted soldier burst over the edge of the hill to dash to the cover of a boulder, then Ghillie Dhu with another faerl from the other direction, another faerl and another Skyblue Beret. Soon the full escort squad and the rest of the faerls were fanning out to secure the whole boulder area. 3F and Woodflute followed the soldiers up to the hilltop and Savnah's three pedins brought up the rear. The wounded faerls had been lain on the ground and Eilian and Oburnam could be seen through a gap in the boulders tending them. Eilian said something that sent Oburnam hurrying in to Woodflute while she delved into her pouch for a loaf of mannahl.
A short, intense firefight somewhere up the mountainside, then nothing.
‘That is the last of them finished’ Oburnam said. He stopped in front of Woodflute. ‘There is no need for them –’ he indicated outwards in the direction of the troops and faerls surrounding the boulders ‘- to play Soldiers anymore. Get them to find me some fennelwhurt – now!’
‘Hang on, Woody’ Savnah called. She undid her pouch from around her waist and climbed to her feet wearily. She came over and handed it to Oburnam. ‘There’s some in there. And King Oburnam? – Thanks for your help just now. I’d be dead if you hadn’t distracted him.’
Oburnam nodded, a comrade. He hurried back to Eilian with the pouch, taking fennelwhurt out of it as he went. Eilian tore the moist centre out of the loaf and handed half to him. He in turn gave her half the fennelwhurt. They both kneeded their fennelwhurt into their soft mannahl and spread it over the prone faerls’ wounds.
The explosive sounds of the confrontation had echoed loudly over the valley, a boulder had been blasted down past Heytar and a cloud of small rocks had showered over the waiting troops. Heytar the lucky, as he now deserved to be called, had also missed being pierced by Savnah's falling gun by a hair's breadth. (When Heytar was still in short pants he thought that was 'a hare's breath’. He couldn’t imagine how the distance a hare's breath travelled was measured.) After a minute or so of silence and inactivity had elapsed Fingerglove had judged that the combat had been decided one way or the other, so he'd let everyone through.
‘The silhearion 's dead. He's really dead’ 3F declared loudly when he saw his body. ‘His body's still here,. . .’
‘His cloak's dull brown except for the blood.’
‘His staff's split in two way over there.’
‘. . . even his silh crystal's here. He'd never leave any of that if his spirit was still alive. Especially his crystal. You've done it, Savnah, you've done it.’
Savnah stopped watching Oburnam and Eilian at work and turned her attention to him and the others, not seeing Eilian get up and walk towards her. ‘Of course he's really dead’ she said tiredly. ‘My teeth have stopped hurting completely.’
‘What? Your teeth have stopped hurting?’
‘Oh, never mind.’
She noticed that her three pedins were hanging back from Woodflute sheepishly.
Uh-oh she thought. I got them into trouble.
‘Savnah?”
Savnah jumped at the voice behind her. ‘Maker, Eilian – you’re as bad as the horses. Don’t creep up on me like that.’
‘Here.’ Eilian handed her pouch to her. ‘I was not creeping.’
‘I know, but still –.’ She looked to the wounded faerls. They weren’t there. ‘It works a treat, doesn’t it? I used it on a pedin with his shoulder smashed.’
‘How – of course you did.’
‘But why didn’t you just let them die and be renewed?’
‘Death from gunshots can take hours or even days of agony’ Eilian said. ‘No one wants to go through that. Queen Naimh says I let myself get killed so I can get renewed, but really?’
‘Those guys are going to cop it from Woody’ Savnah said, nodding at her pedins. ‘I’m too tired to sort it out,. Just do a Jem on him for me, please.’
Eilian didn’t have to act like Jem. She simply said to Woodflute once again that they had been acting under the drinsighe’s orders. They had been above his authority. If it had not been for their tireless search for her she would have been murdered by the bandits too. If they had not kept everyone down in the valley just now she would not have been able to concentrate enough to beat the silhearion. He was not to ever reprimand them publicly or privately for their actions. In fact he was to recommend to 3F that they be decorated and promoted for their service to her.
‘I am sure the prime minister will agree with your recommendation’ she said loudly, as if 3F couldn't hear her. ‘It is obvious to everyone that he owes her even more now.’
‘We all do’ said 3F.
‘And we will repay you, Savnah drinsighe’ whispered Eilian to herself.
Savnah looked down at the silhearion's body, saying to 3F that there appeared to be a dearth of silhearions in Tirn Peal now.
‘You guys seem to like having them around. Jem and I gave you the mushroomers. We may as well give you a new silhearion we found in our travels. In fact we'll give you two. You've got mushroomers, so you can always have mushrooms. With two silhearions to train apprentices you'll always have silhearions.’
Her voice didn't have its normal sparkle in it. She was tired - bone-tired. All the past weeks were galloping towards her - the duergar, the ellyllan, Ellydd Gate, Druigmord Blied, Ggwillyn caves, the Keep, Rainbow wood, the rope bridge, the silhearion and more. Her body was tired, her mind was tired. She waved Fingerglove to her and used his shoulder for support. She explained to 3F how to find the Danaan entrance to the caves of Wonder and she asked Eilian to get Azor to show him if he had any trouble finding it. He'd find a couple of silhearions near a lake in the valley beyond the caves. One of them was a bit eccentric, but he was a damn good silhearion. He told them the seemingly-impossible method of the silhearion's death.
A silhearion will kill him and a mirror will kill him and a drinsighe will kill him.
His name was Horace. The other silhearion was known by the unusual name of Pesky. He had strange glow about him, but he shouldn't be any problem to a people who accepted a rat as their prime minister.
‘Oops. Sorry, 3F. Only joking’ Savnah apologized. ‘You’re nothing like that now. You look so different. Worthy, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I meant before you became 3F. When you were just the king’s adviser.’
3F nodded solemnly, hiding his pride.
Savnah went back to talking about Horace and Pesky, saying that the two were inseparable. She was sure they'd both relocate closer to Starleigh if 3F offered to move Horace's rather-different little home to a secluded rural setting with good fishing.
‘That's Lake Wendmead to a T’ 3F muttered to himself.
‘I'll let them know you're coming’ Savnah said lethargically. ‘Hand me Tarindor's crystal, please. You could do this yourself, anyone could, but I need to talk to Horace anyway.’
She put an image of Horace in her mind then she spoke to the crystal as if it were him. Not vastly different to ESP. She had to call for him about eight times before he answered. Even then he was reluctant to actually converse. Savnah had to first prove her identity by enumerating on the wonderful times he had shared with her and Jem.
‘There's other people listening, Horace - important people, so it might be best if I don't go into too much detail’ she said tiredly. ‘We watched you throw a stone, we watched you light a fire , we -’
‘Enough, girl’ yelped Horace. ‘You are who you say you are. Now, what do you want?’
Savnah told him first and foremost that Tarindor was dead, really dead this time.
‘And you share the credit’ she said. ‘It was you who told us how to kill him. Remember telling us that a silhearion and a mirror and a drinsighe would all kill him? All I had to do was to put those three in the same place at the same time. Thanks, Horace. You're a wonderful silhearion, truly.’
She went on to tell him that it was safe for him to leave the valley of wonder now that Tarindor was dead, that Starleigh desperately needed him to be it's resident silhearion (with an ideal country fishing retreat as part of his salary package) and that he was needed to assume the mantle of high master of a new order of silher to be made up of silhearions he'd train.
‘Thank you, but I can’t’ said Horace sadly. ‘I know in my heart that I’m a really good silhearion, but I never learnt more than the simplest spells. I might be good at giving you a riddle about that Tarindor, but I don’t know any silheary to help ordinary people with ordinary problems.’
‘Everything will be okay’ Savnah replied, feeling for him.’I’ve been thinking about this ever since we left you. You’re the holder of the secret of secrets. Out here you’ll have instant access to everything a silhearion will ever need to know.’
‘There's one catch’ she qualified. ‘You have to bring your little grey nemesis as your assistant. It's long past time you two made up, anyway.’
‘I wouldn’t tell this to anyone except you, girl,’ he said,’And that’s only because you’ve done a wondrous thing to that horrid, horrid Tarindor. The thing is young Pesky's wonderful company in his own way. If I leave the valley he'd have to want to come too. I can’t be expected to make up my mind on the spot, but I promise to think about it.
Now, please let me go to catch our lunch.’
Our lunch? Savnah thought. Things must be looking up for those two. ‘Talking about lunch – Pesky will probably start eating more soon’ she said into the crystal. ‘Now Tarindor’s really dead won’t his spells fade away? Won’t Pesky become a person again?’
‘Yes, girl’ answered Horace. ‘I better start catching more fish, wouldn’t you say?’
After Horace had signed off to go fishing Savnah, typical thoughtful Savnah to the end, remembered something else that might help Tirn Peal.
‘Um, 3F? she began awkwardly, never liking blowing her own trumpet. ‘Dafholven probably told you how Jem and I took the faerl horses back to Arathae …’
‘That he did, Savnah’ interrupted 3F. ‘The faerls had been without their fabled steeds for three hundred years. You two just happened to find the only pair that were still alive from back then … and about two dozen of their offspring. You rode them across the surface of the sea to the hidden faerl kingdom. You gave the faerls back the means to regain their horseriding honour. I know that was all in a day’s work for the drinsighe, but I bet they wanted to give you the world.’
‘Actually’ Savnah said, thinking fleetingly of Kerin-Ayden, ‘actually, they didn’t say anything at the time except thanks. Of course, they were probably still trying to get their heads around the fact that the most important faerl horses ever had let two ordinary aillas ride them.’
‘Yes, very ordinary’ muttered 3F to himself. ‘Very ordinary like a five-headed pedin is very ordinary.’
‘Just before leaving Arathae I remembered that’ Savnah continued. ‘So I asked King Oburnam for a gratuity. I got him to promise that if ever you pedins get horses again he won’t do anything bad to them like last time.’
‘That was good of you’ said 3F unenthusiastically, ‘but we’re not about to create horses out of thin air, are we?’
‘Well no, 3F, but out of misty air is another thing’ Savnah smirked. She told him about all the wild horses up in the high country in Arborland. ‘I left directions to the valley of wonder in your tent, just in case things went bad with Tary’ she told him. ‘But I told you how to get there just before so you can go there to find your new silhearions, didn’t I? While you’re there you can do a deal with the harpeps to supply Starliegh with horses.’
On that note she turned and started walking away. Over her shoulder she said she was heading back to camp for a rest. Her three pedins came to her, but first Washoffen spoke with Eilian. All Savnah caught was Eilian’s low ‘Strike while the iron’s hot, pedin.’
All the other pedins and faerls had dribbled in to gawk at the silhearion's body. Washoffen and Heytar had to elbow a path through them for Savnah to start off down the hill.
Woodflute set about forming up his pedins and Oburnam's faerls in separate orderly groups, no mean task under the circumstances. Oburnam had briefed Eilian earlier about his new aim of forming closer ties with Tirn Peal. When he began to talk to 3F about their joint relief and their peoples' futures together, Eilian stayed around to support him.
Savnah felt better with every step she put between herself and the silhearion’s body.
‘I'm not stopping at the camp, boys’ she said, more life in her voice. ‘It's time I went home. Please say my goodbyes. I'll miss you three. I reckon we had the makings of a good team. Maybe I'll see you in Starleigh one day. I'll probably visit Drin Lair sometime. Maudrin promised to fly me to Starleigh if I do - me and Jem and Bess, actually. . . . Ah, well. . . . . . . Anyway, thank you all for everything.’
‘Thank you, Savnah. Thank you for allowing us to be part of history’ said Fingerglove passionately.
‘And thank you for getting us to try mannahl’ Heytar added. ‘It was the experience of a lifetime.’
‘The faerl warrior said to thank you for our decorations and promotions, ma'am. Why did you bother to get her to ask at a time when there were obviously more important things on your mind?’ asked Washoffen.
‘Eilian told you why, WJ’ Savnah replied lightly. ‘She said strike while the iron's hot. Learn that lesson well. I learned it when Jem did that to your dead king Dafholven after Ellydd Gate. Always strike while the iron's hot.’
They passed between the tents without stopping. As they approached the gate (with its one full sentinel and one missing sentinel) Savnah told them that they might be about to witness her making a fool of herself. She hated goodbyes, so she wanted to slip away unnoticed - but she didn’t know the password. The drin didn't need passwords. She was gambling that drinsighe didn't need them either.
They stopped at the looming cliff. It climbed upward storeys above them. Fingerglove slapped it with his hand. It was as hard as rock; a huge, sheer, smooth, rock that was part of a mountain.
‘Well, this's it’ Savnah said. ‘Tell Eilian I wouldn't ever consider going with her while I've got a second of this life left to be lived, please.’
She hugged a surprised Heytar. She kissed him full on the mouth. She did the same to Washoffen, urging him to practice his shooting more. She kissed Fingerglove. Some might say that she and Fingerglove lip-locked for an inordinately long time; that this indicated an underlying love between them. There wasn't any such love, just last-minute affection. When they finally came up for air she disentangled herself to face the cliff.
‘Savnah, wait a minute! You can't go yet!’ a voice shouted from a distance.
3F was tearing through the camp with Eilian by his side. Oburnam was just a few paces behind them. Woodflute was watching Savnah as he marched both sets of soldiers down the hill. She waved gaily to them all as if she was going on a holiday.
‘See yuz!’
She looked at her three pedins fondly.
‘May the Maker be with you always, fellas. Bye.’
She stepped into the cliff.