The Pearl of the Soul of the World - By Meredith Ann Pierce Page 0,31
stood gazing out at the desert dunes. It was nightshade, and by the tilt of the stars, not many hours after Solstarset.
"But it was nightshade when we came," she murmured and shook her head, amazed. Almost a daymonth spent in NuRavenna—and how many more wandering the desert and the caves? Irrylath's army must be halfway to the Waste by now! So much time lost…Maruha beside her nodded.
"We've been within for hours upon hours, Lady—handfuls of dozens of them—while you and the holy Ancient conferred."
Aeriel glanced at the duaroughs. They think I have the rime, she thought. They think the Ancient-lady gave me all of it— that I am prepared to meet the Witch.
"We spent the time going about under the Dome, Sorceress," Brandl added as he and Collum wrestled with the airlock's final closure, "surveying the City's machines—for Lord Melkior said we must be gone in haste as soon as his lady had given you all you needed if we were to join this war in time."
His young face was shining with expectancy, his words eager and bold. Already he seemed to have forgotten Ravenna fallen, Ravenna dying. But I don't have all I need, Aeriel wanted to scream. She only gave me half the rime's end— not enough! Not nearly enough. I don't even know what the pearl is, or the sword. To calm herself, she took a deep breath. The outside air felt deliciously thin and cool.
"You must not call me 'lady' or 'sorceress,"" she answered distantly instead. "I'm neither."
Collum snorted. "Indeed! And I suppose you have no pearl upon your brow, Lady, nor a sword that sings ever so softly in gift from the Ravenna herself."
"Who is gone now," whispered Aeriel, touching the swordhilt, then the pearl. She felt lost. "Ravenna is dead."
"You're her heir," Maruha insisted.
Aeriel shook her head. Not I, she thought. The Ancient boons are not for me. Yet a desperate resolve had begun to fill her. No matter that she had not the last of the rime. No matter that she now bore two strange sorcerous gifts the purpose of which she did not even know. Somehow, by means she did not yet understand, she must persuade Ravenna's daughter to renounce her treachery and become the world's heir.
"Oh, please, Sorceress," Brandl cried, coming forward. His hand had gone to his little harp. "Will you tell me the rest of the rime? I'll sing it wherever I go." He threw a glance—nervous and defiant by turns—in Maruha's direction. "I mean to be a bard, whatever my aunt may say."
"Sooth—my whole family, worthless!" the duarough woman muttered. "You're as bad as your fool uncle, lad." But she made no move to interfere.
Numbly, Aeriel knelt before him on the cool sand. "I cannot give you all," she said. "For Ravenna did not give me all. But I will give you what I can:
"Whereafter shall commence
such a cruel, sorcerous war,
To wrest recompense
or a land leaguered sore.
With a broadsword bright burning,
a shadow…"
Aeriel bit her tongue and fell silent. She did not know the rest. She could not bear to look at Brandl's face, to see the disappointment she knew must be there when he realized how pitifully little she had gained for all her time in Ravenna's care. Dismay swept over Aeriel as she allowed herself to consider: so many futures possible. How could they hope to win this war without the rime's end as a guide… ?
She had no time to think more—aware suddenly that even though her words had ceased, the recitation of the rime had not. Another voice now whispered it, a soft, strange voice that creaked like oiled wood. Aeriel's startled gaze went to the sword at her side—but it was not the sword that spoke. It was the scabbard.
"With a broadsword bright burning,
a shadow black as night
From exile returning
shall champion the fight…"
The scrolls upon the inlaid surface of the wood swirled and shimmered, shifting their pattern, becoming a bird.
"For love of one above who, flag unfurled,
lone must stand,
The pearl of the soul of the world
in her hand…"
The bird stretched, long narrow wings coming free of the sheath. Its white feathers shimmered.
"When Winterock to water
falls flooding, foes to drown,
Ravenna's own daughter
shall kindle the crown."
Aeriel stared at the slim white bird upon the swordcase. Its bright, round eye stared back at her. She felt a rush of wild joy and disbelief.
"Heron!" she cried.
Maruha and Collum both stood gaping. Brandl hastily fell back. The heron blinked slowly, her metamorphosis only half complete.