ZYGRADON Read Free Page A

first man snarled.
    "Star-metal," the Warhawk's man said. He sounded bored and made a face at
the third man, turning his head so the first couldn't see him. Mrillis liked this man,
whoever he was.
    "Exactly. Star-metal falls on Lygroes just as much as it does on Moerta, but why
aren't Rey'kil crops blighted? Why don't Rey'kil cattle fall sick? Why don't their women
miscarry and their children die young? Why aren't their springs poisoned and the wild
animals running mad?"
    "The Estall loves the Rey'kil better than the Noveni?" the third man said. He
slouched in his chair and closed his eyes, to all appearances ready to fall asleep.
    Mrillis grinned, admiring his attitude toward the angry man. That still didn't
excuse his feet on Le'esha's table.
    "The Rey'kil have magic. That's how they keep their land clean and their homes
and farms and people healthy. Why don't they use their magic to help Moerta?" He
stomped over to the Warhawk's man and glared down at him, hands jammed into his
fists. "Why doesn't the Warhawk demand answers? I know he must have the same
thoughts, the same questions. Why don't the Rey'kil suffer the poison of the star-metal,
when it falls on their land as much as it does on Moerta?"
    "My royal brother has asked." The Warhawk's man stood, with his gloved hands
clasped behind his back. Mrillis imagined his knuckles turned white from the effort not to
strike the other man. "He has asked without anger, with respect for our allies who have
made room for us. Our allies who have given up fertile farms and rich mines to our use,
who have shared their knowledge, their skills, their magic with us. The wisest minds of
my brother's court study with the leaders of the Rey'kil, seeking that very answer, and
they have not found it yet."
    "They won't find it because the Rey'kil can't be trusted. They pretend to be our
friends, but they're killing us off slowly. Star-metal isn't poison--until the Rey'kil
change it with their magic. They want this entire world to themselves."
    "That would be a little hard to manage, with the Encindi chewing on their
borders and the Nameless One using his blood magic to counter everything they do," the
third man said.
    "How do we know there really is a Nameless One? What is the difference
between their so-called clean magic and his blood magic?"
    "The difference between life and death," Le'esha said.
    All three men turned as one, the third leaping to his feet, and they bowed to
her. She paused in the doorway, studying the three intruders, before coming into the
room. She walked past the shelves and glanced briefly through the gaps between the jars
before sitting at her table.
    "High Scholar Breylon and I have a proposal for you to take back to the
Warhawk and his Council." She tipped her head to one side and waited until, one after
another, the three men sat. "We will send scholars and enchanters from the Stronghold
and from Wynystrys to settle in Moerta. They will study the places where star-metal
lands and discern the difference between the star-metal that falls on Moerta and what
falls on Lygroes.
    "It could be that the difference is not in the star-metal, but in the land itself.
Something in our soil might act as amethyst in a cup of wine, to nullify the poison. When
we know what that difference is, we will try to duplicate it in Moerta and give your land
back to you."
    "That is most generous, Lady," the Warhawk's brother said, standing to give her
a deep, respectful bow.
    For the next hour, Le'esha conferred with the Warhawk's brother, Lyon, over
the details of the plan. Mrillis watched the first man, who stayed silent, and considered
his accusations.
    When Ceera woke up, Mrillis turned most of his attention to entertaining the
little girl and keeping her quiet. Besides, the talk of numbers and provisions and
arrangements for sailing from Wynystrys to Moerta bored him. He had one question,
and asked it as soon as the visitors left and Le'esha called the children out of their