ESTRAL’S HARMONY
“What?” Alton rubbed his
eyes as if confronted with a specter.
“Hello,” Estral
repeated. “And I thought I was the one hard of hearing.” She gave
him that wry smile of hers, but it was not as confident as usual.
It was questioning, as if she was uncertain of her
reception.
“How?” he demanded.
“How did you get in here?”
“I sang to the
guardians. They liked it and let me through.”
She’d said it like
it was the simplest thing in the world. Alton felt off-kilter and
grabbed the mantel to steady himself. “You . . . you sang to the
guardians? And they let you through?”
Her smile faded.
“I’ll leave if you want me to.”
“No! No . . .” He
laughed. “You were right yesterday.”
“I was? About what?”
Now she gazed at him with a suspicious glint in her
eye.
“About music being
magical. But I expect not everyone can make it magical. Not the way
you can.”
The smile returned
to Estral’s lips.
Alton smiled back.
“What made you try?”
“My music helped you
and Dale enter Tower of the Earth, so I thought I’d try it here on
Tower of the Heavens for myself.” She gazed about the tower
chamber. “I must admit, I was curious.”
Alton was vaguely
disappointed by the answer. “You brought a blanket.”
“I thought you might
need it, but I see you have a fire going.”
“Yes, but a blanket
is most welcome. Thank you.”
She passed it to him
and backed away. “I guess I should go now.”
“No, wait! I mean,
you said you were curious. Wouldn’t you at least like a tour of the
tower? What’s left of it anyway.” He glanced upward where he could
see the stars through the hole in the roof.
“Yes, I’d like
that.”
He led her around
the circumference of the tower, showing her the sink that magically
flowed with water when you waved your hand under a bronze fish’s
mouth. He took her beneath the east archway that ended a short
distance away at a solid rock wall. The
wall. Around they went, stepping over rubble, he explaining how the
wall almost went mad and collapsed, taking the tower and Dale and
himself with it.
“They lost harmony,
the guardians,” he said. “They are strong when they sing as one,
but when they lost harmony and rhythm everything almost came to
ruin.”
“Further evidence,”
Estral said, “of the magic of music.” They exchanged
smiles.
“I’ve saved the best
for last,” Alton said, taking her hand. He found it strong and
limber. His own hands were bulky with muscles from stonework, huge
and powerful, like a draft horse. Estral’s were more like a
champion racehorse or a hunter in top condition, all lean, smooth,
muscle. He realized it must be from lute playing, all those hours
and hours of practice and performance. He thought of those hands on
him, “playing” him, and he trembled.
He tugged on her
hand to cover it up. “C’mon. See what you think.”
He led her to the
circle of columns in the center of the chamber. There was the one
that lay broken in sections across the floor and he was reminded of
Tower of the Earth, the skeleton on the floor
reaching.
“What’s that?”
Estral asked, pointing at the pedestal in the middle of the circle.
On top of it the lump of tourmaline gave off a faint green
glow.
Alton pushed the
image of the skeleton from his mind. “It’s called the tempes stone.
First time I touched it, it awoke Merdigen. I think it somehow aids
his ability to exist.”
“I’d love to meet
him,” Estral said.
“You will, but he’s
away at the moment.”
“Away? How can he
... ?”
Alton shrugged.
“He’s off meeting with the other tower mages. The ones east of the
breach, anyway.”
“Right,” Estral
said.
“Now let’s take a
step through the columns, shall we? Be warned you may find it
disconcerting.”
She raised that
skeptical eyebrow at him, but when they stepped through and the
tower disappeared and they stood upon an impossible expanse of
grasslands illuminated only by stars and moon, she loosed a squeal
of surprise.
“Don’t worry,” he
said. “If you step back through the columns you’ll be back in the
tower.”
The tower may have
vanished, but the columns, tempes stone and pedestal, and east and
west arches remained visible, like the ruins of some ancient
civilization. Reluctantly he released Estral’s hand so she could
investigate. She stepped back and forth between the columns testing
the effect, then walked the circle weaving between the columns.
Eventually she came to stand beside him again.
“Incredible,” she
said.
He could hear the
awe in her voice and was pleased.
“Where is this?” she
asked. “Is it real?”
“Hard to say
exactly,” Alton said. He’d asked Merdigen once about the reality of
it, and Merdigen had shot back with his usual, “Are you real, boy?”
“This landscape
seems to be aligned with our season and time of day, for what it’s
worth. I’ve been in Itharos’ tower, and his landscape is arctic,
like the great ice fields to the north. Its time of day is opposite
ours, from what I can tell.”
Estral shivered
beside him. “It’s cold enough here. The air is crisp, and though
the breeze is out of the northwest, I can smell the ground thawing
like spring is not far off. It’s so very real.” As if to augment
her words, coyotes bayed in the distance.
Alton had held onto
the blanket and now he placed it over both their shoulders and
boldly wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. It was very
warming. She did not object and when she gazed at him, it was not
with trepidation, but more assessing. She did not protest on
Karigan’s behalf, did not mention Karigan at all. Interesting. He
was pleased.
“The stars are
incredible here,” he said. “No trees to block them. The Sword of
Sevelon is almost in its upraised position.”
But Estral did not
look at the stars. Her gaze lingered on him, still
assessing.
“Is ... is something
wrong?” he asked.
“No,” she replied.
“Nothing at all. I’m just thinking I’m glad I came
here.”
“And I’m glad I came
to my senses and didn’t let you leave.”
“Like you had any
say in the matter.” She subtly shifted her weight so she leaned
into him. Alton’s heart fluttered.
He turned so they
faced one another, and when he kissed her, their bodies melding
into one, the music that was Estral Andovian filled him with the
harmony that had been absent from his life for too
long.