David Farland - The Wyrmling Horde

"And has it?" Alun asked.

"No," Daylan said. "Men do not long to conquer worlds that they have not seen, or that they have never dreamed of."

Talon realized that Daylan was right. She d never seen any worlds but her own, had never imagined that there could be other fine worlds.

"Are there worlds that are not in peril?" Talon asked. "Fine places, I mean. Worlds where you might go just to rest from your cares?"

Daylan laughed, as if it were a naive question. "As I said the other night, there are more worlds than you can count, more than you can imagine. Some have life on them, and others are void. Some have people on them, not too different from you.

"But the worlds mirror each other. Somehow, even on worlds where one type of mold is struggling to dominate another, the great drama unfolds.

"No," Daylan laughed, "there is no fine place where you can really rest-unless, of course, we manage to bring peace to your world."

"And if we do, won t peace come to all of the worlds?"

"I suppose it will."

The emir, the Cormar twins, the Wizard Sisel, and Erringale were still saying their good-byes. Daylan glanced at them, got a sly look on his face, and whispered to Talon, "Come here."

He went to the back wall, and embedded in it were tiny stones like diamonds no larger than an infant s thumbnail. They glowed softly, so that from a distance they had looked like stars. It was these stones that lit all of the rooms, Talon realized.

Daylan said, "The folk of this world call these sunstones, for when left in the sun, they store its light. The beams then leach from the stones at night when darkness falls."

"They re pretty," Talon said. "A stone like that would be worth a man s weight in gold on our world."

Daylan pried a sunstone from the wall, cupped it in his hand so that the light would be hidden, then pinched it hard. The light flashed brightly.

"The harder you pinch, the brighter it flashes. Try it. The stone gets quite warm when you do. The sun s heat is stored in them, too."

He held the stone out for her, and Talon s fingers wrapped around it. She held it in her fist so that no one would see. She squeezed it briefly, felt it flare. It was like a tiny fire in her hand, leaking light so brightly that it glowed red through her fingers. She had to drop it.

Suddenly, understanding spread across her face.

"A flameweaver could make good use of these," Talon said.

"They are quite common here," Daylan whispered. "The Bright Ones mastered the craft of making them ages ago. I cannot explain the process fully, for it would take hours, but it requires only coal from the fire and sand, along with bits of shaved metals-zinc, silver, and others that your peoples have no names for. Then the ingredients are blended and crushed under great weight until the pieces fuse.

"Now, Erringale will not allow weapons from this world to be taken to yours. But if a few sunstones were to fall from the wall, he would not miss them…"

Talon saw the possibilities. "How would the wyrmlings have fared against us," Talon wondered aloud, "if we had borne sunstones into battle? Our whole world might have been saved."

"It might yet be saved," Daylan suggested.

"And Fallion will be able to make use of these. If I but pinch one

…"

"The stones are everywhere here in the sanctuary," Daylan said. "Look around, while I go speak to Erringale."

So he left Talon alone for a moment. She was not a thief. She would not have taken a man s purse no matter how much gold it held.

But she knew what Daylan wanted. Perhaps he feared that Erringale would have him searched before they left. Or perhaps taking the stones would violate one of his oaths. She knew full well that he was a man of high ideals-too high, sometimes.

Yet he had given knowledge to her people in times past, and now he was asking her to steal light and fire from the Bright Ones in this hour of need.

In a few moments, Talon had five sunstones hidden in her leather purse.

Then she heard Daylan call "Talon?" and it was time to go.

Erringale s people provided packs filled with food and flasks of warm beer, and then they were off.

The good folk of Luciare cheered them on their way as they raced up the steps of the tunnel, and exited out of the great tree, then stood there in its shadow.

Full night was upon them, and the storm had passed. Broken clouds sailed through the sky like the wreckage of ships upon a dusky sea. A moon larger and fuller than that on Talon s world gave copious light, but they did not set off through the fields, which were still wet with rain-slicked grass.

Instead Erringale raised a small stick and traced a pattern in the air, until suddenly a gust of wind blasted them all in the face, and they stood peering back into a duller world-a world of stunted grasses and twisted trees and air that somehow smelled fouler and more acrid than the air of the netherworld.

No wonder Erringale s people think so little of us, Talon realized. We are like poor cousins to them.

The Cormar twins rushed through, followed by Daylan, Talon, the emir, and finally the Wizard Sisel and Lord Erringale himself.

They found themselves standing on a nasty plain thick with grass, tangled with weeds. The bitter scent of wild carrots filled the air, and the white tops of their flowers grew an arm s length away, rising almost to her chest.

Talon thought at first that the air smelled so badly because of her new endowments. But she noticed that the grass nearby looked more sere and dry than it had before, and the leaves on the trees were going brown.

The curse, she recalled-the wyrmling curse. Before the binding of the worlds, the wyrmling world had been all but free of plant life. Only the nastiest and most unwholesome still survived. But with the binding, entire forests had appeared, a blessing from Fallion s world.

Now those trees were dying, blasted by the wyrmling curse.

That is the cause of the smell, Talon thought. The good plants are dying, while the evil ones thrive and choke them out.

Though it had been full night in the netherworld, the sun here was nearly up, just breaking free of some golden clouds on the horizon. Yellow moths dipped and glided all around, and the air was filled with morning birdsong.

Good, Talon thought. The wyrmlings will be looking for places to hide for the day.

The company halted, peering around, trying to get their bearings.

"Over there," Sisel said, pointing just to the south. A low hill rose in that quarter, with stately elms spreading their branches wide. Just beyond them, Talon could see the gray stone tops of the fortress at Cantular.

"But our road lies that way," Daylan said, pointing east.

Talon had traveled this same highway only two days before, with Rhianna, Jaz, and Fallion, after High King Urstone had rescued them from the wyrmlings. So much had changed.

I m a different person altogether, she thought. She had taken endowments from men and dogs, and felt so much power coursing through her, so much health and energy yearning to break free, she almost imagined that she was like a young robin in its nest, yearning to escape and take flight.

The scents of dry grass and bitter weeds came so strongly it was as if she had never smelled before. The cheeping of birds, the bark of a distant squirrel, sounded so loud that it felt as if she d gone through her entire life straining to hear anything at all.

But she had taken endowments from more than dogs. She d taken them from half a dozen good men and women from the warrior clans.

She felt eager to run to Rugassa. But the Wizard Sisel and Lord Erringale would never be able to match the grueling pace that the others would set.

"It is time to part," Sisel said, as if reading her thoughts. "Erringale and I will go west, to commune with the One True Tree. But you must go north to rescue your friends. Any last words?"