“Why?” The single word rang in all their heads but they knew it was meant for Frost.
“Because, even as this gate was used, it was not done so by the will of your breed. We move now to close forever all such openings into other worlds, thus pledging that there shall never more be any entrapment of the innocent, nor invasion of evil, nor meddling in what is not for us.”
The woman continued to stare at Frost.
“You are one of great Power in this world.” In her hands that globe swung a little. “Can Power stand against Power?”
“Why should it?” Frost asked. “The Dark is always with us—even as it must be in the world you know. If you were of the Dark we would have long since discovered it. What you have done you can undo…” She turned her head a little to look to Audha.
“Sulcar slut,” spat the other.
“The stars move.” For the first time Inquit spoke. “They have moved—the time wheel turns. Here the Sulcars live in peace. Perhaps in your world they no longer exist.”
The woman laughed, and that laugh was sword-edged. “How well you have read us, feather flapper. Yes, knowing my kin, I think that world is now wholly ours.”
Trusla was aware of a growling throat sound from the captain, yet not loud enough perhaps to be heard by the others.
“So we make a truce—then you do as you came to do: destroy this trap which was sprung by some Power from your own brewing. What then of me?”
Frost deliberately looked to Captain Stymir now. “Captain, ships and things of the sea are known to you. This gate is half open, for it holds something which exists now in two worlds. Can this ship be freed into its own place once more?”
Trusla saw the woman clutch the ball of fire even closer to her. She was watching the captain as a huntress watches prey.
“Lady, of Power such as yours I know nothing. The ship looks to be fully sheathed in ice. To free it might be a task beyond your strength.”
Again the woman laughed. “A Sulcar who speaks the truth as he knows it—this is indeed a change in the way things be. Worry not about my sweet Storm Flitter. What you see is the time-dispelling casing I set upon her, even as I went myself into the deep sleep. Those who were my guard…” Her head bent as she looked at the ball she held. “When I awoke through the roar of that great wild Power of yours, the spells had faded and they were… gone. Happily so, for perhaps they returned, in spirit, home. I wove too well—though perhaps there was a reason for that also. Witch Woman”—she twirled the ball in her hands—“you have opened your mind to me. It is true as you think, we need no more gates, and perhaps it is also true that this one exists still because my ship is half-bottled in it. Can you swear to release it and me with your spelling?”
“Who can swear certainly to anything of the Power?” Frost returned. “The gate I can close, once your ship is freed. But consider this, Sister in Power. You will be in your own world; however, as the shaman says, it has been long—the stars have changed.”
The woman was smiling. “Let my future be my own. It is no concern of yours, Witch Woman. What I return to, if I can, will be mine to face. Perhaps I have even become a legend for the telling.”
With one hand she slapped the side of the ball she held and that encirclement of color disappeared.
“What of the Sulcar girl? What you have taken from her—is it gone forever, then?” Frost demanded.
The woman shrugged. “They are a Powerless lot, save when they have weapons to hand. Who cares?”
As one the captain and Joul moved forward and they were followed closely by the Latt and Simond.
“But we do have weapons.” The captains voice was low, almost caressing, as if he held in his hand not a drawn sword but some well-loved thing.
The woman seemed to consider him, her head a little to one side. “Fire and steel, yes. But I have this.” She had posed the fire ball on the palm of her hand as if she steadied it for tossing. Then she smiled. “And I would be quickly answered, would I not, you who deign to call me Sister in Power, with such fates as you could hope to bring upon me. This much I will promise. I do not know the full strength I have taken from this slut. But I know what can be returned, if and when matters go to my satisfaction.”
As swiftly as she had appeared she was gone, and her going brought them to the edge of the gate to look down again at the ship in its clear ice envelope.
“Can it be done?” the captain demanded of Frost.
“We can only tell when we try. But note you cannot see the place in which that ship now rests. That is not any mist given off by the substances of this world.”
It was true, the ship was plain enough to be seen half-caught in the ancient trap of the gate. But behind and around it was not really a mist but a fog, which, even as they watched, appeared to thicken and hide. What it covered, they could not see. If anything moved in it, they could not tell. It was… just as it had been for countless generations now. And no one suggested a climb down into that rolling grayness.
Instead, left rather at a loss since their proposed partner in labor had chosen to disappear, they climbed down once more and Frost went to study the gate, Simond with her.
“Hilarion did not foresee such as this,” she said. “I can strive to reach Es or Arvon. Still, the otherworld Power alive here may interfere with that.” She sighed. “It is difficult to depend upon another, and one who cannot be trusted.”
“She may yet spring some trap?” Simond demanded, well aware that he might be the target. “Lady, let me be put under watch, for she may still think that I will serve her purpose. I ask of you, should I fail in such a testing, will you look to Trusla? Her people will have none of her because she saved my life, as you well know. She will need someone to stand beside her.”
Frost had been bending her head a little forward, studying the jewel now resting on her palm. “I think this stranger will not trouble us so again, Simond. There was truth in what she said: if she believes we can offer her a return to her own world, then she will link Powers.”
“But it has been so long.” Without them realizing it, Trusla had joined them. She could not bear now to have Simond too far away. “To return to a world one does not know, that has moved apart…”
“There is this,” Frost said. “Simon Tregarth, when he sought the Port of Dead Ships and found the floating derelict which was from his own world, discovered that time was different between us. There was evidence on the ship that he had spent more years apart than he had reckoned. This Urseta Vat Yan could even possibly discover that such transition works in an opposite fashion. For no two Powers are alike—just as no world copies another to the last blade of grass.”
“I hope”—Trusla had captured Simond’s hand and held it close—“that that is so for her.”
45
Gate Fall and New Day’s Dawning, North
They had seen no more of the woman who called herself Urseta Vat Yan. Frost spent much time pacing out a line which spanned those very ancient outlines of the now-ice-choked passage. She could not approach it too closely; the sluggish stream issued from its foot. Finally she appeared to have made up her mind on some point and summoned them to a meeting.
Once they were so assembled, she singled out Audha, touched the girls forehead, and repeated, as she might a ritual, the name they had heard days earlier:
“Urseta Vat Van!”
Names had Power. Perhaps the alien from the otherworld had held Frost’s talent so low that she had not believed the witch could so compel her.
But now that shimmer of rainbow across the ice spread upward. Once more they saw the stranger as she wished them to behold her, whether it was in her natural body or not.
She did not hold her ball of fire this time. It hung above her head, and the warmth from it even they could feel. But her green eyes were hard, and as the warmth of the ball, so could her anger be sensed by all of them.