Cryptal's Champion: Songs of Si'Empra, #2

By Miriam Verbeek

"Verbeek returns with this poignant and engrossing second installment in the Songs of Si'Empra series as her adolescent protagonist fights for her people while struggling with inner demons" – OnlineBookClub.org

 

"Fast-paced and immediate ... chock full of action and intrigue" - Book Excellence

 

Packed with incredible world-building and led by an inspirational yet relatable heroine, Cryptal's Champion is the fast-paced second installment of Miriam Verbeek's Songs of Si'Empra trilogy.  Full of strong female characters, this novel makes evocative commentaries on misogyny, trauma, and genocide.

 

It's summer again on Si'Empra, and the entire island is in turmoil. The Cryptals are rapidly losing control of the land, so earthquakes are becoming more frequent and dangerous. To make matters worse, Ellen's evil half-brother Redel is now king of the Skyseekers and appears to be veering closer to madness by the day. Now, he is viciously determined to kill all of the island's Crystalmakers and Cryptals through whatever means necessary. 

 

As she battles her inner demons and trauma, Ellen is also struggling to protect the oppressed amid chaos and genocide. Though she may have escaped Redel's abusive clutches, her half-sister and close friends are now at his mercy and victims to his cruel whims. Can Ellen find a way to save the people she loves most and find a way to stop her half-brother's war before the island's societies fall apart?

 

The unique fantasy world of Si'Empra is intricately drawn, with fascinating characters and a rich tapestry of cultures and traditions. Perfect for fans of Lindsay Buroker's Legacy of Magic and Leigh Bardugo's Alex Stern series, this urban fantasy saga is sure to keep you on your toes and rooting for its heroine. Continue the adventure, and click "Add to cart" today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Miriam Verbeek
• Release date: May 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648595441

Miriam Verbeek

Miriam Verbeek was born to Dutch parents in Bandung, Indonesia in 1954 and migrated to Australia as a child. Throughout a career in academia and management consulting, she advocated for environmental and humanitarian causes. She's a mother, homemaker, nature lover and bushwalker and lives with her partner on the east coast of Australia.

Book preview

Map of Si’Empra

Part 1 : Consequences

Fgirl looking at a ship and a bird on a cliff side.

1

Across the shoals

Many Lians spent the winter months planning best ways to finally purge Si’Empra of Cryptals and Crystalmakers. As soon as snowmelt exposed the lowlands, the Adjutants began looking for the signs of changed vegetation that indicated where the Crystalmaker harvesters had worked in previous years. Using dogs, they located three Cryptal tunnel entrances and decided upon a coordinated attack. Different groups rushed simultaneously into the tunnels, taking the Cryptals and Webcleaner harvesters by surprise. Of course, the WhiteŌne was immediately aware of the intrusion but it took time to coordinate Cryptals to repel the invaders’ three-pronged attack, especially when the Cryptals’ previous strategy of collapsing a small portion of a tunnel failed because the Adjutants simply blasted away the blockage and surged over the rubble. By the time the Cryptals stopped the invaders by caving in large sections of tunnels, the Adjutants had destroyed a significant part of the lowlands labyrinth, killed thirteen harvesters and six Cryptals, and wounded several more.

The Guild Masters pondered the news of the invasion but decided the Cryptals still provided them with adequate protection. Elthán mourned the loss of more of her people, her anxiety spilling over into worry about the safety of Greçia’s grotto. She sent Thimon to the grotto to ask Richard to increase the reach of the alarm system all the way to Greçia’s clinic in Sinthén via the telephone line. She also encouraged Thimon to set a date to start moving Müther, Pahn, goats and chickens to the Northern Lands.

Richard and Thimon worked quickly and efficiently to install the alarm system. For added security, Richard added warning bells at both ends of the suspension bridge and reworked the ropes fastening the suspension bridge to the sides of the gorge to enable the whole structure to be quickly collapsed. Under Thimon’s directions, all who used the grotto reviewed and rehearsed plans for evacuation.

Richard, Thimon and Chris spent much time discussing the best timing and route for travelling to the Northern Lands. At the end of the previous summer, they had split into two groups: Chris, Müther and Thimon had travelled at night; and Richard and Phan had travelled in the early morning with the goats and chickens. The two parties had only met to cross the Chess River. Thimon believed that they should employ the same strategy now and leave immediately Greçia’s grotto was secure, but Richard argued it was too early to attempt the journey because all waterways would be flooded with snowmelt and the Sith Plateau would be slick with ice and snow.

Ellen listened to the discussion, noting that Thimon assumed that she and Rosa would also be travelling to the Northern Lands with the party. In fact, Thimon largely pinned the success of the journey on Rosa’s capacity to carry Müther and, perhaps, help everyone over the more dangerous waterway crossings en route. Müther took no part in the planning, but each time the conversation turned to the journey, she crossed the stumps of her arms tightly over her breast and her face became expressionless.

The edges of your lips are white, Ellen thought. You are very frightened.

Elthán arrived at the grotto to find no decision made; a revelation that made her close her eyes in frustration and draw in a deep breath. She had clearly hoped not to be drawn into resolving yet another problem. She made herself listen patiently to the pros and cons of the various plans the group had devised and abandoned. Thimon insisted that Chris and Richard were overthinking the problems. The plan at the end of the previous summer had worked without incident and would again this time, he said, especially with the help of Rosa.

But spring weather is notoriously uncertain, and Rosa can’t travel well at night, Chris argued.

True? Elthán asked Ellen.

True, Ellen confirmed.

I didn’t say we had to do everything at night. We can do the difficult parts during daylight and Chris, me and Müther can travel at night and Rosa can catch us up at the next part, Thimon snapped, his broad shoulders twitching with irritation

Richard spread a detailed map of the island on the table and began to tell Elthán about the difficulties they might face: there was this gully that might be in flood, and that ridge top that would probably still contain deep snow; they might be able to detour around this and that difficulty, but it would take time. Rosa can do that, was Thimon’s consistent interjection.

Perhaps we need to delay the journey, Elthán said, her shoulders sagging. Although more than seventy years old, in Crystalmaker terms she was only in her late middle age – though just now, she had the air of someone who was more than a century old. Deep lines of worry etched her forehead.

The need to delay the journey was a conclusion Chris and Richard had already arrived at. Thimon continued to argue, perching his short, stocky body at the edge of his seat in his agitation. If there’s a problem we can’t overcome we can either come back or we can wait it out. Flooding in the highlands never lasts long and we know all the shelters around. This is the best time to travel. The Ülrügh and his butchers are nowhere near venturing beyond the lowlands at present. Delay just makes things worse.

Ellen broke her silence. Can I make a suggestion?

Five faces: Chris, Müther, Elthán, Thimon and Richard, turned towards her.

If Müther will permit me, I can take her south and then north by an altogether different route than the one you’ve been discussing. Rosa and I have travelled that way before. We travel over the shallows at the mouth of the Chess – it’s not much good for goats or people, but Rosa can manage. I think that at best it would take us three days – though longer, of course, if we need to shelter if the weather turns against us.

Thimon scowled with annoyance. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but Elthán forestalled him with questions for Ellen. Thimon pressed his lips together and glared at Ellen.

Distracted by Thimon’s animosity towards her and wondering: What exactly have I done that makes you annoyed with me? Ellen answered Elthán’s questions. Yes, I can feed Müther and otherwise care for her; Yes, it is possible to take enough food; Yes, Rosa is strong enough to make the journey.

She was jolted out of her distraction when Elthán asked Greçia: Is Ellen well enough to travel?

Ellen was about to indignantly protest the affront when Greçia said: Yes. Ellen shot her grandmother a disapproving glare.

Chris said, But travelling alone – how can we know if there’s an accident?

Of that, I am not worried, Elthán dismissed. The Cryptals will tell us soon enough if something goes wrong. She turned to Müther.

Müther, you must decide.

Müther surprised everyone except Ellen by saying without hesitation, I will go with Lian Ellen as she suggests.

And so it was that the two women left a few days after the men and their animals. It was a grey, blustery morning. Rosa stepped high and happy to be travelling, not minding the extra weight of Müther and the bulging saddlebags. They travelled due west for some hours over rough, steep ground to the mouth of the Chess River with its many streams and shoals. Ellen carefully covered every exposed skin surface on Müther and herself to guard against midges. Then – with input from Rosa – she began to pick a way through The Shoals.

2

To see with sound

Müther found she could brace for Rosa’s hops and jumps by being sensitive to Ellen’s pre-emptive sounds and movements. She found herself enjoying the adventure of the ride, intrigued by the intermittent conversations – and even debates – that Ellen and Rosa engaged in. Ellen used a mixture of Skyseeker and Crystalmaker languages to make her point, and Rosa warbled, chirruped and even squawked in response. Sometimes, at some apparently difficult sections of the journey, bird and young woman would seem to become increasingly belligerent with one another until some arrangement was reached – though it was clear that Ellen always had the last word and Rosa never hesitated if Ellen gave her a direct command.

Müther felt a queer sense of pride when Ellen commented, I’m amazed by how well you hold your seat. Even Rosa keeps glancing back at you in wonder.

A little while later, Ellen called a stop to allow the riders to stretch their legs and take some refreshments – quickly lifting and dropping the fine mesh nets that covered their faces to put food and drink into their mouths. Ellen asked: May I sit you at the back of the saddle? You appear confident enough to hold your seat. It will mean I can see a little better what Rosa is doing and we might spend less time arguing.

Müther laughed. You really do treat Rosa like a person, don’t you?

Well, yes – she often appears to me as such. If you are more comfortable –

Not at all, Müther interrupted. Put me where you like.

In fact, sitting at the back was much better for Müther and, it was true, the apparent disagreements between mistress and steed became less frequent, leaving Ellen with enough time to describe the countryside to Müther when she asked her to do so.

In the afternoon, the wind became more persistent, though it had the advantage of settling the midges that, despite Ellen’s careful dressing, still managed to creep through the tiniest of openings to deliver annoying bites. An hour later, the wind turned vicious and stung the riders with fine sleet. Find us some shelter, Rosa, Ellen instructed.

I don’t muck around in this weather, she explained. Rosa’s very good at finding a place to stop. Sometimes it’s not very comfortable and a bit cramped, but at least we’ll be out of the wet and this wind.

Rosa left the shoals and climbed the nearest slope. The bird, Müther discovered, achieved her proficiency at finding shelter by using her considerable bulk, blocking what was simply an overhang of rock to form a cave. Ellen spread a self-inflating mat on the floor of the shelter, seated Müther on the mat with her back against Rosa’s body, then set about preparing a warming cup of soup on a camp cooker.

You’re quite practised at making yourself comfortable in these conditions, Müther said.

Now I am. It took Rosa and me a while to work out how to do it. Ellen giggled. I think I nearly froze to death a few times at the beginning and I got into some pretty miserable situations. I didn’t dare tell anyone about some of our adventures. I think people just thought Rosa and I visited friends all the time. Anyway, I’ve learnt what to pack and how to make the shelter bearable now because sometimes it takes a few days for the weather to clear. Actually, the biggest problem when Rosa and I travel is drying clothes. Whenever the sun peeps out, I spread out all my damp clothes over Rosa. The giggle turned into a laugh. Sometimes, she looks like a walking clothesline.

Müther felt Ellen’s hands guide her stumps into the ears of her special mug. Here’s your soup. I might as well start warming up the proper meal of the day for us. I’ve a feeling we’re going to be here for quite a while.

After their meal, and after Ellen had helped Müther with her ablutions, into comfortable clean clothes and settled her against Rosa’s warm body again, Ellen said: I keep thinking that those words that you said after we danced together on the plateau would make a good song. Remember? You said something like, ‘More than my eyes, I miss my hands’.

Müther was silent. This was the first time either of them had spoken about their conversation at the edge of the Chess River ravine. Ellen had been more than a little discomfited by Müther’s pledge of fealty, so Müther had let it be.

We’ve come a long way, you and I, Müther thought. Not so long ago I would not have let you say that to me – nor would you have given me your thoughts.

She listened as Ellen moved around in their cramped space. Every now and then, Ellen explained what she was doing: organising saddle bags, setting out bedding, putting torches and other handy items close to hand. Finally, she appeared to be finished with her preparations for their stay.

Would you like me to read to you, or can I do something else to help us pass the time?

Did you bring a musical instrument with you?

Yes. A clarinet. It’s the easiest to carry. I’m not very proficient, but I can wring a melody from it.

I’ll teach you a new melody.

For some hours into the night, while the weather swung noisily around them, Müther taught Ellen a melody that was confronting, beautiful, sad and strangely hopeful. She was insistent about the way it should be played, with long pauses, crescendos and diminuendos in precise places.

In the morning, still trapped by the weather, they practised again.

By the second morning, the weather had improved enough to allow them to continue their journey. There was no opportunity to further practise the melody while they travelled over steep, rough ground, and all three were too exhausted in the evening to do more than attend to making a comfortable night.

The sun revealed itself the next day. Ellen described it to Müther. The sun is shining in an azure blue sky, intermittently covered by dancing white clouds.

After an initial scramble, Rosa’s gait indicated that the terrain had levelled out, but the wind was bitingly cold. The wind’s picking up bits of snow that’s still banked around the place, Ellen said. That’s the wet things you can feel every now and then. She settled the beanie Müther had been wearing throughout their journey more firmly over Müther’s head, pulling the hood of her coat over the top and securing all fastenings. The wind’s cold because it’s coming straight off the sea. Tell me if you get too cold. I can wrap a cover around us as well if needs be.

I sense we’re high up and exposed.

"We’re not high – only about five metres above sea level. But, yes, we are exposed. We’re on the north side of the Sith Range. The sea is just to our left but down a very steep, rocky slope that finishes at a thin pebbly beach. This plateau we’re travelling on runs for about thirty kilometres. But we’ll only follow it for about twenty, then we’ll head south and back up into more steep lands. By then we’ll be quite close to the Northern Lands.

You can probably smell the salt in the air. Hear the birds? Some skuas have arrived and are beginning to stake out their nesting areas. Rosa and I tried coming here one time in the beginning of summer and they drove us out, now they’re ignoring us – that’s what I thought might happen. Below us, there’s a colony of penguins. There are more penguins coming in from the sea and some are going out. Many of the penguins are gathering stones and building nests. Others – I guess they’re the immature ones – are just standing around in a group. There’s a lot of brash ice on the sea. Some of the little bays are so packed with ice floes that penguins look like they’re finding it hard to get through to the open water. Many of the large floes have seals on them. There’s an iceberg too. It’s sparkling in the sun and the aquamarine blue in the ice shows through in long strips. They look like cold, see-through, bright shadows – if you get what I mean.

I remember what icebergs look like. Müther called up the image. I was always struck by how blue they are – and the many hues of blue. Can you see any whales? I used to love standing on the open balcony of the Serai watching the whales breaching and flapping their great tails and flippers.

No. There are no whales – but we might see them later. Maybe orcas too. They’ll be hunting – with all these seals and penguins about.

Tell me what the seals and penguins are doing.

There was much activity on the plateau, with thousands of birds – prions, terns, cormorants, gulls and petrels – creating colonies in their favoured habitats. The mix of sedges, mosses, lichens and grasses were brightening into spring foliage, with some plants showing tiny flowers. Ellen’s descriptions of their surroundings became increasingly intricate under Müther’s questioning, allowing Müther to create a picture of the landscape as they travelled. Ellen was good – better than Richard – at observing the features that made the flow of sounds of the world around Müther come alive with colour and shape. Ellen described the aerobatics of the birds as they tumbled and swooped, diving for food or trying to avoid the skuas, and the graceful aerial courtship ballets of the pure white snow petrels. She described how the Antarctic prions alighted on rocks, paused and then disappeared into nesting cavities; how penguins launched themselves out of the swell of a wave and leapt expertly on to ice floes, on to rocks, or the beach; and how fur seal pups chased each other around the stony beach. Ellen described the antics of one seal pup which seemed to have perfected the trick of using cover to gain an advantage: the pup would hide behind a rock and leap out when another pup happened past, or dive into the water and lunge out, mouth wide open, often straight on to a playmate.

The penguins provided Ellen with equally amusing incidents to relate.

There’s a whole lot of penguins all huddled together in a tight group facing the sea. They’re looking at birds flying overhead. They have their beaks up in the air and they’re all looking at the same bird so that when it flies over them they all turn together – all these heads and beaks move in unison. Now they’re all looking at a bird flying the other way and – yes, all the beaks are turning at the same time. There was laughter in Ellen’s voice as she described the scene.

Oh! There’s a fulmar out to sea. It made a really loud noise – that is so unusual – I’ve never heard one make a noise before. All the penguins are surprised too. They’re looking at it. It’s flying towards them. It’s flying over their heads – their beaks are going up – up – up – Oh! I don’t believe it! Their heads are tipped back and – and they’ve all fallen backward on top of one another. There’s huge confusion – feet and flippers waving about – they’re rolling around trying to sort themselves out. Müther shouted with laughter.

All the while, as the world lived through sound and smell and description for Müther, Rosa stalked along at a steady pace, occasionally jerking when – as Ellen explained – she ripped an apparently tasty morsel out of the ground. Sometimes a squelching sound accompanied Rosa’s step, at other times it was the sound of talons scraping on rock or ice. From time-to-time Ellen would pass Müther her special mug filled with warm pendle from a thermos she had prepared in the morning. Every few hours she would also offer Müther pieces of berry bread. Once they dismounted to relieve themselves.

The cold took on a damper chill towards the end of the afternoon and Ellen directed Rosa off the plateau and inland.

Rosa found them a shelter that was larger and warmer than their two previous camps, even without Rosa blocking the opening. Müther sat on her mat, feeling a rare contentment and peace as Ellen combed and plaited her tresses into order. Müther pursed her lips when she realised that she had not needed – on this evening – to steel herself to bear the humiliation of having to be helped with her ablutions and food. The whole process had seemed so natural that it had almost passed unnoticed as she and Ellen talked about what they had encountered during the day and traded knowledge about Si’Empra’s environment.

You have beautiful hair. Ellen tied off one long brown-gold braid and started on the other.

So your father thought.

He had an eye for attractive women. Müther heard the smile in Ellen’s voice.

Oh, don’t I know it. I think he slept with every lady who happened by – and women were drawn to him like midges to any unfortunate near a river, myself included, though now I don’t understand why.

You know, Müther, whenever he talked about you, it was with much regret. I suspect he never believed Redel’s story.

I warned him often about Redel. Told him that Redel was a cruel and treacherous boy. Your father would put his finger on my lips and tell me my tongue was the one that was cruel and treacherous. Chithra also defended Redel. She spoiled that boy; I’ve no idea why. She certainly wouldn’t tolerate anyone else who was as self-indulgent and spiteful as he is.

Ellen’s hand, in the act of replacing the beanie on Müther’s head, stilled; the jerk was so slight that Müther wondered if she had imagined it because Ellen’s voice betrayed no disquiet as she brought the conversation back to her father. In the last years of his life he would more and more often say things like, ‘Ellen, there are people I have hurt that I should never have hurt; there are decisions I have made that are wrong but now find hard to undo’. I was too young then to understand but, looking back, I think he was making many members of the Lianthem uncomfortable with talk about some of the reforms he wanted to make.

If you’re right, I wish he’d lived. When I first heard of his death I was only sad about your mother’s loss. I think she really did love him. I always thought he was a weak leader of the Lianthem – though, under our current Ülrügh the Lianthem have degenerated further.

Mmm, Ellen finished fiddling with the beanie. It’s started to rain hard out there.

Perhaps you’re actually telling me you don’t want to go on with this line of conversation, Müther thought.

Rosa’s decided to settle. She’s got into the shelter as far as she can. Would you like to sit up against her, or lie down, or something else?

I’ll sit here for now; it’s comfortable. Could you find your clarinet and play the melody I taught you?

Ellen played the melody from beginning to end. Müther made a few corrections, and then announced that she would now accompany Ellen in a song.

Listen to my story of sight and touch

Of sight and touch

Of touch and memory

The fall of a leaf whispers the air in transparent colour

Warmth yellows my skin

Clouds swirl in the wind on my cheek.

Insects buzz, birds’ wings vibrate

Flowers perfume

I listen to look

But my feet stumble

They are blind

But I weep when

My hands fumble

Useless

Gone

Aching for finger delicacy

To trace the contour of my son’s face

Or the shape of a lover’s lips

My hands feel nothing

Listen to me

More than my eyes I miss my hands

Ah. More than my eyes I miss my hands

My feet may stumble for lack of eyes

But I ache when my hands fumble

More than my eyes I miss my hands

Müther repeated parts of verses, each time more softly, until there were only the notes of the clarinet as Ellen carried on with the melody one more time.

After a long silence, Müther felt the palm of Ellen’s hand on her cheek. Thank you.

Müther smiled. That song, locked for so long in her mind, had been a foray into the space of regret she did not like to visit. Tears gathered in her throat, staying there uncomfortably with no eyes for their release. She brought her arm up and pressed Ellen’s hand more firmly against her cheek. Over the past few days, she had often felt that hand as Ellen helped her to eat, drink, wash, dress, undress and groom. But the touch then was fleeting, practical, not meant for comfort. Now she felt a small, cool, slim-fingered hand that was dry and slightly calloused; practical hands that could, nevertheless, run delicately over the strings of a thordilones.

It is a song in my mind, Müther said. It is not for an audience. Just like some of your stories.

I often believe myself to be the most privileged person in Si’Empra. Now I know I am, Ellen said.

Drawing on her usual truculence to control her emotions, Müther thought, If I had eyes I would now look at you quizzically, young lady! You are as deluded as I am, she said and felt the hand against her cheek stiffen.

When Ellen did not respond, she asked, Do you know what I mean?

Had Müther not kept the pressure on the hand, it would have dropped away.

The song was from your heart, Müther, Ellen murmured. I feel humbled to be allowed to hear it. It was all I meant to say.

We are macabre creatures, you and me. We hide our hearts – even from ourselves – while we search to make whole those of others. Is Rosa the only one who will ever know yours?

The palm against her cheek became damp. Müther turned her face so that she could put her lips into the palm. She kissed it and let the hand withdraw.

I feel privileged to have been given your hand to feel.

There was no sound from Ellen. In her mind’s eye Müther imagined the young Lian sitting cross-legged in front of her, clarinet in her lap, hands clutched together, the features of her face pinched into wariness.

What do you fear, Lian Ellen? What you are? What you might be? What you should be? Or what you can be? It must be one of these things, because nothing else seems to frighten you.

3

A beginning

With trepidation, Elthán slapped the stone outside the Webcleaners’ entrance to Guild Master Tharnie’s private quarters. Almost instantly, the curtain drew aside and the Guild Master stepped through. He spoke quietly. Is there somewhere we can talk unobserved and unheard?

When Elthán continued to stand uncertainly before him, he smiled apologetically. I’m afraid I have allowed bad habits to develop and people do enter my quarters without warning – especially my partner is prone to come and go unpredictably.

Elthán frowned. She distrusted the intentions of Crystalmakers. When the frightened Webcleaner had given her the message that Guild Master Tharnie would like to meet with her, and could she please present herself to his quarters at this appointed time, she had almost ignored the summons. But she remembered that, in the few times she had seen him, he had not acted haughtily towards Webcleaners, and those who cleaned his quarters reported that he always acknowledged their work with a polite word of thanks.

Still, she did not trust him enough to take him to her quarters where he would see evidence of writing, reading and other activities of Webcleaners. There was a Rest nearby that was only used by Webcleaners, though it also had evidence of their illegal habits because it was where people left messages for one another. Perhaps she could hide these before he entered.

If you follow me, Guild Master. I can take you to a place where we won’t be disturbed.

As she passed the entrance to her alcove, she bade the Guild Master wait while she quickly gave instructions that no one should visit the Rest until she said otherwise. Once at the Rest, she again asked him to wait while she tidied up before inviting him in.

He was very polite. He did not look about himself but sat on the seat Elthán indicated. He accepted her offer of a cool drink sweetened by a little fermented berry juice and a small berry cake.

You are too kind. I didn’t ask to meet you to impose servitude.

She sat opposite him and decided to show him no servitude. In this case you are my guest, Guild Master, and I enjoy treating my guests with courtesy.

He smiled. Thank you. I believe that you are addressed as Mistress?

My name is, Elthán, Guild Master.

Ah – in that case, you should call me Tharnie – ah. Please. Don’t look concerned. Mistress Elthán – Elthán – I’d be most grateful if you’d, in this conversation, forget that I’m a Guild Master. I want some information.

How can I help?

Please tell me first what you know concerning the Skyseekers – ah, I see you trying not to smile. I need to ask my question differently. The Guild Master chuckled as he made his observation and Elthán relaxed a little more, daring to admit that she rather liked this Guild Master. He was very different to the dour, conflicted Guild Master of Crystal.

You’re curious about Lian Ellen, perhaps? Elthán offered.

Indeed I am. For one so young she has amazing presence. Are they all so?

No. They are not all so. Skyseekers are as varied as Crystalmakers, Guild Master – please allow me to call you that, as it comes more easily to my tongue. Lian Ellen is certainly unique.

She’s your granddaughter? May I ask how that came about?

Her grandparents’ family was very kind to me when I was lost after The Destruction. They taught me and my companions many ways of surviving aboveground and continued to help us in many ways. I was also welcomed into his home under the sky and fell in love with their son.

Elthán did not think it was necessary to mention she was twenty years older than Pedro. He had not yet been born when she had met his parents. She had known Pedro all his life and only the fact that the lives of Crystalmakers stretched much longer than those of Skyseekers had made the union possible. We had a child who lived with him since her half-blood made it impossible for her to live belowground with me. Our daughter was beautiful in the way Skyseekers see beauty and the Ülrügh took her for his partner after his first partner died. That is how the Lian Ellen came about.

You’re well versed in the ways of Skyseekers, then?

Somewhat. There are some among Skyseekers I would trust with my life, but most I avoid.

They still hunt us?

Elthán could not help but wonder at this statement. The Guild Master had said the words as if he was not quite sure that Skyseekers did in fact hunt Crystalmakers. Perhaps the urgent Song of the WhiteŌne each time there was an invasion was beyond his hearing?

Of course, Guild Master Tharnie had not been born at the time of The Destruction. In his childhood he had, perhaps, known hunger and there may have been times when the food served to him would have indicated depleted stores.

The Guild Master’s intuition was good: again, he seemed to read her thoughts. Forgive my ignorance. When Lian Ellen came to us, I realised for the first time how very wrapped in ignorance I am. I’ve since discovered that we are entirely indebted to Webcleaners for our most basic needs – ah, Mistress Elthán, let me be frank with you. Our conversation with Lian Ellen revealed to me my woeful ignorance, but what really puzzles me is that none of my fellow Guild Masters seem wiser than me. No. Perhaps I should rephrase that. I suspect that the Guild Master of Crystal has a great deal of information that I’d like to be privy to but he professes ignorance. Of the knowledge of the Guild Master of Structure I cannot guess. And the Guild Master of Memory has much information but the mere mention of Webcleaners causes her to fly into a rage. Let me begin by asking you why you think she does that?

Surely, Guild Master, you’re aware of the story that it was Webcleaners who allegedly stole the knowledge of the making of the virigin?

"I know that story, but it seems such a