Liv raised her hand, letting it hang in the space between where she sat on the floor, and where Keri lay on the bed. Her Authority swirled around his, like the fresh water at the mouth of a river entering the sea, and mixing in a brackish swirl.

She could feel that Keri’s Authority was weaker than hers, less well trained. It didn’t surprise her: as a word of power, Savel did not seem to be particularly Authority intensive. Nothing she’d ever seen Keri do with it directly affected another mage, in the way that the word of desire or the word of wounding might do. He’d also never, in all the years since she’d first met him, focused nearly as much on pure magic as she did.

As crisp, winter air mixed with the warmth of summer sun, Liv again saw flashes of Keri’s memories - or perhaps his thoughts. She saw herself, against a blue winter sky, cheeks flushed and pink, holding a shield for Keri’s son while the boy climbed on. It was a good memory - the day that Liv, Rose and Keri had spent with Rei on the slopes of Menis Breim, racing down chutes of ice.

At the memory of Rose’s arms wrapped around her middle, Liv pulled her Authority back into herself and scrambled to her feet. With the sudden disentangling, Keri’s memories subsided. “What is that?” she asked, spinning about to find her grandmother leaning against the wall of the room.

“The two of you must trust each other very deeply,” Eila remarked. “If you did not, you would have instinctively pushed each other away.”

“I’ve trusted Liv since the day we found her in Freeport,” Keri murmured. His words slurred together, as if his mouth was half full, and he was talking around it. In fact, Liv saw, there was something wrong with the entire left side of his face. The muscles didn’t seem to be moving to match what the right side was doing.

Before Liv even realized what she was doing, she stepped forward and put her hand on Keri’s face. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

“It doesn’t feel like much of anything at all,” Keri admitted.

“Back up, Liv,” Arjun said. “Let’s see if we can get you sitting up.” He leaned down over the bed and helped Keri swing his legs down to hang off the side. For a moment, it looked as if the Elden warrior would be able to stay upright on his own, but then he began to lean to one side, and Arjun had to steady him.

“What’s wrong with me?” Keri asked.

“The dowager queen cast a spell on you, before she died,” Liv explained. “It sent a clot of blood up into your brain. Arjun saved your life, and I took you here to be healed. But then we found your spirit was gone...”

“Portions of your brain have been hurt,” Arjun said, which Liv knew to be a simplification, and not entirely accurate. Parts of Keri’s brain were dead. “You may have a hard time moving parts of your body, or feeling what touches your skin, until you recover.”

Liv could see the moment the terror entered Keri’s eyes.

“But I will?” he asked, words slowed and indistinct. “It will pass?”

“It will get better,” Arjun said. “How much better, I cannot say, Keri. And you will have to work hard - exercise. Practice walking again. It may take time.”

“I’ll be able to fight again?” Keri asked, with a note of desperation in his voice. “Ride? Use a spear?”

Arjun hesitated, so Liv reached out and took Keri’s hand in her own. “We don’t know,” she said. “We don’t know, Keri. Arjun did the best he could, but Ghveris says that spell usually kills people. You almost died. The important thing is that you didn’t.”

She wasn’t certain how much of what she said Keri actually heard; his eyes, roamed about the room without actually seeing anything, passing over her as if she wasn’t even there.

“You need to get better for your son,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “For Rei.”

“Rei. I saw him,” Keri said. “And my father. Told him to find you, Liv. That he needed to tell you.”

Liv glanced back toward her grandmother with a frown. The only one she’d ever known to be able to see someone projecting their spirit was Ractia herself.

“Not many of us can do it, but it is possible,” Eila said. “It is one of the things elders practice. Ilmari would have been able to perceive his son. Especially his own son.”

“What does he need to tell me, Keri?” Liv asked, turning back to her friend.

“They were on an island,” Keri said. “Cutting the heart out of a wyrm. Heard half the names... Noghis. Manfred. Seija of the Iravata. A man with red eyes... a bloodletter. And old man, from the east.”

“Aariv,” Arjun said, from where he supported Keri, the two men leaning against each other.

“Red eyes would be Wren’s father,” Liv said. “That’s how she knew that she’d lost him - when his eyes turned red.” If we kill Ractia, do I get my father back? Wren had asked Liv, in the baths at Akela Kila. I want to see if his eyes stay red when she’s gone, or if they turn brown again.

“They were claiming a new form,” Ghveris said, from the doorway. An exhalation of steam punctuated his words. “A blood-letter. The heart of a wyrm. He wishes to be able to take its shape.”

“So they found a substitute for Silica,” Liv said. “Decided it was too much trouble to try to go back and finish her - maybe they know my father’s holding that rift, now. But the fact he’s gone out to get himself more power means they’re going to be planning to use it somehow.”

“Liv,” Arjun said, “we can talk about all of this later. You’re going to want other people to be part of the conversation. I’d like to get Keri back down to Castle Whitehill, and set up in one of the rooms there.”

“Of course. You’re right.” Liv nodded. “I can make a mana disc -”

“Save yourself, Lady of Winter,” Ghveris said. “Inkeris is a brother in battle. We have hunted the forested mountain slopes together for your enemies. I have watched over him for days while he slept. I will carry him.”

Liv crowded back against the wall, next to her grandmother, to make room for the Antrian to fit his bulk into the chamber. When Ghveris took up Keri’s weight, Arjun stepped aside. Carefully, so delicately that Liv could hardly have believed it was possible if she hadn’t seen it herself, Ghveris turned sideways and maneuvered Keri out into the corridor.

“I’ll meet you at the window that looks down on the world,” Liv said, and slipped across the hallway into the room where Matthew was sitting with Beatrice. Arjun followed her, but her grandmother waited outside the door.

“Thank you, Liv,” Matthew said, his voice hushed. He’d pulled the single chair in the room over to his wife’s bedside, and was holding her hand. Liv could see that Triss’s eyes were closed, and she was sleeping peacefully. “I haven’t seen her sleep like this in weeks.”

“Good.” Liv stepped closer to the bed, and looked down at her sister-in-law’s face. “Are you going to stay with her?” Of course he would. It’s what she would have done, in his place. If it had been her wife - kwenim - or even husband.

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Matthew nodded.

“I have a load of supplies ready for you,” Liv said. “Gathered at Bald Peak. Blankets, pillows, food, a book or two. I’ll send them up.”

“I’m going to need you to take regular breaks,” Arjun ordered. “You’re not attached to one of the healing tables. You could very easily get sick from the mana density.”

“I’ll have a few of the tundra-riders who came south with Kaija help you,” Liv said. “They’ll teach you to handle the mana up here, and share the cost of using the waystone to get up and down.”

“The mayor and the sheriff can mostly run Whitehill,” Matthew said. “But Liv, you’re going to need to leave someone clearly in charge when you go to Varuna, if I’m not back.”

“I know,” she said. The original plan had been for Julianne and Henry to still be alive, and if Triss hadn’t been so sick, it would have been Matthew. Sidonie might do for a day, but Liv doubted her friend would want to be left to run a duchy - a kingdom, now, if only a small one - for weeks or months at a time. She would need to find someone else.

Liv stepped back out into the hall, to give Arjun a chance to speak with Matthew, and her grandmother walked beside her on the way to meet up with Ghveris, Keri, and Kaija. “I need to ask if one of our Elden healers can come stay with him,” she thought out loud. “Someone who already knows how to handle the mana density.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Eila said, taking Liv by the arm. “You focus on what you need to do, dear one.”

“What - what happened with our Authority?” Liv asked. “Did you know that could happen? Is it dangerous?”

“Only if one of you betrayed the other,” the older woman said. “Did I know that it could happen? Yes, dear. But I did not expect it. Usually, it is something that comes gradually, as people lower their barriers. I didn’t expect either you, nor young Inkeris, to allow each other to be so vulnerable.”

“I think he was desperate and afraid,” Liv pointed out. Actually, she knew it, because she’d been able to feel the emotions. “And I didn’t really know how to talk to him. I just wanted him to understand me.”

Eila sighed. “I suppose it was expecting too much to expect Caspian Loredan to teach you,” she grumbled. “Your mages guild has always treated Authority as if the entirety of its significance was for combat. A sword and a shield. A bar by which to measure their archmages. Well, the girl who set the rules, her word was ‘to cut.’ I don’t know what else anyone would expect of her.”

“As long as we didn’t accidentally hurt ourselves,” Liv said. “That’s the last thing I need - to somehow make things even harder for him.”

“We’ll speak more of it later,” her grandmother said. “Here are your friends.”

And indeed, Kaija stood, half turned to the great window that looked down upon the world, with Ghveris only a short distance away, Keri cradled in his monstrous, armored arms. A glance told Liv that he’d fallen back asleep, and she thought that it might be for the best.

“As soon as Arjun’s done talking to Matthew, we’ll go down,” Liv said. “We’re going to need to get a council together, Kaija. I need Wren at the least - my father, if we can get him. Keri’s brought back information they need to know.”

☙

Like everything else now, it was more complicated than Liv thought it should be.

In the end, it was easier to call everyone she wanted to Bald Peak, and hold the meeting there, because of the proximity of the waystone. Rather than making everyone ride to Whitehill, this meant that her father and the others could come directly to the base of the mountain.

The list of who she wanted was another matter. Wren, of course, because what Keri had learned had to do with her father, and Ghveris, who seemed to know more about the blood-letters and their rituals than anyone else. If Liv could have gotten someone else from the Red Shield Tribe to come, she would have. Pandit Sharma, who had known Aariv before the other priest left Lendh ka Dakruim, and might therefore realize something that no one else would. Her father, who Liv hadn’t seen since she left her aunt’s funeral. Valtteri would know what was happening in Varuna better than anyone else.

Lia Every, to represent the guild. Elder Aira could speak to the state of their supply lines from Al’Fenthia, and Liv’s grandmother would represent House Däivi. Each of the older women brought a second: Liv’s cousin Miina, and Soile, the commander from House Keria. Liv’s great-uncle had already accompanied all of the Elden soldiers who were fit to move to Varuna, and would take command while Liv’s father came to Whitehill. Apparently he would bring representatives from several other houses, as well, Liv learned as messengers came and went by waystone.

Keri, of course, would represent House Bælris, along with his father, Ilmari. And that had been an awkward meeting.

Liv had known the old man would be coming, of course, and that it wouldn’t take long from Mountain Home to Bald Peak - only the time it took to use a waystone, and to make whatever preparations back in Elden lands Ilmari saw as necessary. Still, it had been a surprise when he’d barged through the door into the barracks atop the mountain.

Two Whitehill guards had been sent for one of Baron’s Henry’s wheeled chairs, as soon as they’d returned from the ring, but it would take time to come by wagon. In the meantime, Liv had set her friend up in a curtained off bed, with a chair close at hand. He needed help to get from one to the other, which Keri found immensely frustrating - but not as maddening as the fact he had difficulty eating by himself.

His left hand and arm were weak, and clumsy, and Liv could tell he had difficulty feeling what he was touching when he tried to grasp something - such as a knife, for cutting one’s food. The right side of his body worked just fine, though he seemed to tire easily.

It was perhaps an unkind thought, but Liv couldn’t help but blame Keri’s former kwenim for not being present. Not because she resented caring for him - she didn’t, she had tended him when he was sick before, would do it again, and would for any of her friends - but because he deserved someone from his family to be with him while he recovered. Liv was his friend, but she wasn’t that. She felt as if she wasn’t enough, wasn’t as much as he deserved.

Still, sitting next to Keri on the side of his bed, cutting his meat for him, had not been how she’d anticipated seeing her friend’s father again.

Ilmari threw the curtain aside, but could come no closer, because Kaija was immediately between him and Liv, her body pressed right up against the old man’s chest to hold him back. “He is my son!” Ilmari growled. “Let me pass.”

“It’s alright, Kaija,” Liv said, doing her best to keep her voice calm and even. “The elder isn’t here to hurt anyone. You can let him through.”

Kaija glanced back at Liv, for just a moment, then met Ilmari’s eyes again. “I’m certain he isn’t,” the armorer and self-appointed captain of Liv’s nascent personal guard declared. She patted the old man once on the shoulder, and then stepped aside.

Liv, for her part, stood up and stepped aside, so that the father had room to wrap his son in an embrace. “We’ll give you privacy,” she said, and pulled the curtain closed before she walked away.

Since then, Ilmari ka Väinis had been polite, but cold to her. Liv couldn’t get over the feeling that he blamed her for his son’s injury - and not without cause, she had to admit. After all, if Keri hadn’t come to Whitehill to protect her family, at her insistence, he would still be fit and healthy. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t thought as well, usually alone in the dark at night when she was waiting for sleep.

In the end, it took two days to gather everyone she wanted, most of it taken up by sending pigeons and messengers back and forth between Bald Peak, White Hill, and the painted desert. The wagon that brought Keri one of the spare wheeled chairs also carried an enormous table, which was lifted up to the mountaintop on a disc of coherent mana, set up in the barracks, and around which every chair they could find was placed.

For the first time since Liv had left Keri on the ring, all three of her protectors were present at once: Wren, Kaija, and Ghveris. Miina had appointed herself responsible for Liv’s appearance, in Thora’s absence - apparently, it had taken strong words from Master Grenfell and Guild Mistress Every to keep the lady’s maid from riding the wagon to Bald Peak. In any event, Liv’s cousin had styled her hair in the sort of unbound, draping curtains, interspersed with a few small braids to hold it back out of her face, that were common among the Eld. And atop that, of course, went the Crown of Celris.

So it was that Liv waited at the head of the table, a goblet of wine at her right hand, as the council accumulated. It was the first time so many leaders of the northern alliance had been in one place since Al’Fenthia, when the decision to help Whitehill had been made - and there were many new faces.

Last to arrive was Liv’s own father, and she couldn’t help but rise from her chair when she saw him enter through the door. A man walked to either side of him: one old and bent, an elder, with sparkling green eyes, like jewels, that threw the shadow of a memory over Liv’s thoughts. The other Elden man was younger, with eyes and hair of gray, and sun-browned skin. His eyes immediately fastened on Liv.

“I thought the messengers could not possibly be speaking the truth,” the gray-eyed man announced, in Vakansa. “But she actually wears a crown.” His words were angry, but Liv had never seen him before in her life. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novel·fiɾe·net

“Livara,” Valtteri ka Auris began, with a long-suffering sigh, “This is Elder Aatu, the last surviving elder of House Iravata; and Juhani of House Kalleis, who joins us from the city of Soltheris.”

Just behind Liv, Wren’s boots scraped on stone as she shifted her weight.