Re-Awakening: I Ascend with a Legendary class

The voice came to her an hour after sunrise.

She was sitting by Ainen’s fire with a bowl in her hands. She had eaten three of them already, slowly, and Ainen had not let anyone take the bowl away. John sat beside her. Corvin sat on her other side and pretended he was there for the fire.

Then she went still. Her eyes went far away.

Almond knew that look. He had seen it on thirty thousand faces the day they came through the Door.

”Oh,” she said. ”Oh, there’s someone talking.”

”What’s it saying?” asked John.

”It says I built a power within me.” She frowned. ”On my journey. It says how I lived determines the weight of my soul.” She laughed a little, softly. ”It’s late, isn’t it? I’ve been on my journey a long time.”

”It’s late,” John agreed.

She looked at the air in front of her. Almond could not see what she saw. She did not show it to anyone.

She read it for a long time. Her lips moved once or twice. Then she put the bowl down in the grass and pressed both hands flat against her chest.

”It says I have a weight,” she said.

”Is it heavy?” asked Ainen.

She did not answer that. She sat with her hands on her chest and her eyes shut, and two tears ran down her gray face. They were not gray. They were clear.

John put his arm around her shoulders. Nobody else said anything.

They held the council at midday.

It was the biggest one yet. The circle of flat stones at the foot of the Door had grown into two circles, one inside the other. In the inner one sat everyone who led anyone.

Corvin for Frosthold. The Matriarch for Duskspire. The Emperor of the Aurelian Empire, with Sevrand standing behind him. The Sovereign of Voidmere in her violet shawl, with the wanderer sitting barefoot at her feet.

And the newest of them, a tall woman in dark green who had come out of the Door at dawn at the head of the ninth kingdom.

Her people were called Vaelmourn. She had not slept. She had been at the fire all morning, listening, and she looked like she did not believe half of it.

”You are telling me,” she said, ”that the voice on the road was a lost woman, and you went out into the dark and fetched her.”

”Yes,” said Almond.

”And that she was told to send us east by something that lives on a mountain.”

”Yes.”

”And that the something is now coming here.”

”Yes,” said Big D.

The woman in green looked around the circle. Nobody laughed.

”Ravengard is still on the road behind us,” she said at last. ”We crossed a day apart. They are the last.”

”Then they come out into this,” said Corvin. ”Same as you.”

Big D nodded at Hessa.

Hessa put her hand over her eyes. She had been looking north since the night before, and her face was gray with tiredness.

”Everything between here and the mountain is moving,” she said. ”Not fast yet. They’re gathering. Packs are coming together into bigger packs. The lords are walking at the front.” She took a breath. ”They’re coming down both sides of the road.”

”How long?” asked Lily.

”To Brightwater, nine days. Maybe ten. To the Door, after that.” Hessa lowered her hand. ”Brightwater’s in the way.”

Lily’s hand went to her stomach. It was a small movement, and she stopped it halfway.

Almond saw it. So did Big D.

”Clovelle,” Big D said.

Clovelle sat up straight. She had slept most of the last two days, and her color had come back.

”Brightwater,” she said. ”I know.”

”Take Marcus. Tell Kael and the Empress first. Then everyone.” Big D’s rasp was flat and steady. ”Westhollow too. Callum needs to know. Tell them to bring everyone inside the lines and keep them there.”

”And then?”

”Then come back for us. We’ll be done here.”

”Done with what?” asked the woman from Vaelmourn.

”There’s one more of them lying in the grass,” said Big D. ”West of here. It hasn’t moved. I don’t like things that don’t move.”

Clovelle and Marcus left within the hour.

The old woman spoke for the first time in the afternoon.

She had sat at the edge of the circle all through the council, with John beside her. Nobody had asked her anything. When the leaders argued about Brightwater, she put up her hand like a girl at a school bench.

The arguing stopped.

”I’m sorry,” she said. ”I’m only listening. But you keep calling him the Sovereign.”

”That’s what the stories call them,” said Almond. ”The things above the lords.”

”He never said that word to me.” She folded her hands in her lap. ”He talked to me for a long time. Longer than I can count. He told me a lot of things. He liked to talk.”

”What did he tell you?” asked Lily.

The old woman thought about it.

”He said he was lonely,” she said. ”He said everything that lives down here ends one thing. Sleep. Sound. The ground. You’ve seen them.” She looked down at her hands.

”He said they learned it from him. He said he was the first thing that ever ended anything, and all the rest of them were only copying.”

Nobody in the circle spoke.

”Did he say what he ends?” Big D asked.

”No.” She shook her head. ”I asked him once. He laughed. He said I’d see, one day. He said everyone does.”

John’s arm tightened around her shoulders.

”He said one more thing,” she said. ”The last time he came. He said that one day the Walker would come back down the road to look for me.”

She turned her head and looked up at John. ”He said that when you did, he would be glad.”

John did not move.

”Why?” asked Corvin.

”He didn’t say.” The old woman looked at Corvin with her pale blue eyes. ”But he sounded the way you sound, dear, when you talk about Johnny.”

Corvin opened his mouth. Then he shut it again.

”He’s been waiting for you,” Lily said to John.

”Seems so,” said John.

He said it lightly. But he did not take his arm from around the old woman, and he did not smile.

That evening, Almond found Lily at the edge of the white stones.

She was looking north, toward the road. She was standing still.

”You want to go home,” he said.

”I want to be home,” she said. ”That’s different.” She did not turn around.

”Brightwater’s in the way, Almond. Hessa said so. Our tree is in the middle of the square. Big D carried that seed the whole way. Thirty thousand of our people are sleeping around it tonight.”

”Clovelle will be there tomorrow night.”

”I know.”

”And she’ll be back for us in three days. Maybe less.”

”I know that too.” Lily put her hand on her stomach, and this time she left it there. ”I keep thinking about the voice on the road. When I came through. It said everyone had built a power within them.”

”It did.”

”It said it to the baby too. Didn’t it? That’s why it has a weight.” She looked at him at last. ”What power did it build? It hasn’t lived yet. It’s only been carried.”

Almond did not have an answer.

He put his hand over hers. They stood there together at the edge of the line until the stars were out.

Big D did not sleep that night.

He sat by the fire with the book on his knee. John sat across from him. The old woman was asleep between them under two of Corvin’s furs, with her head on a rolled-up coat.

”He’s waiting for you,” Big D said.

”I heard.”

”You going to tell me why?”

John looked down at the old woman. He pulled the fur up over her shoulder.

”When I know,” he said.

”You know.”

John was quiet for a long time. The fire burned low.

”I think I know who he is,” he said at last. ”I hope I’m wrong.”

Big D did not ask anything else. He opened the book to the front page, where her name was, and looked at it for a while. Then he closed it.

Big D woke them all before dawn.

He did not shout. He walked through the camp and put his hand on shoulders, one after another. When Almond sat up, Big D was already standing over him with the book under his arm.

”Hessa,” he said.

Hessa was at the fire, with both hands over her eyes. Her whole body was stiff.

”The west one,” she said, when Almond reached her. ”It’s up.”

”Coming here?”

”Yes. And it’s fast.” Her voice was tight. ”It’s not like the others. It isn’t walking. It’s sliding along the ground, low and flat, the way a shadow moves when a cloud goes over.”

She pressed her hands harder against her eyes. ”It’s going to be here by sunrise.”

”What does it end?” asked Corvin, from behind them. He was pulling on his boots.

”I don’t know. I can’t tell. But every bird it goes past...” Hessa stopped.

”What?” said Almond.

”They close their wings,” she said. ”In the air. They don’t fall because they’re hurt. They close their wings, and they don’t open them again, and they fall.”

Behind them, the Door brightened.

Everyone turned. The light came down from the top, slow and steady, in the color nobody had a name for. The last kingdom was beginning to cross.

”Ravengard,” said the woman from Vaelmourn.

The old woman had come up behind them in the dark. She was looking at the Door. Then she looked west, and Almond saw her face.

”Oh, no,” she said quietly. ”He told me about that one. He said he was keeping it for the Door.”