Circles of Stone. Ian Johnstone

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СКАЧАТЬ also in two parts.” Paiscion opened his hands and grinned admiringly. “It is a message intended to reveal the way ahead. It speaks to us in this very moment!”

      The Say-So erupted once again in excited murmurings and whisperings, followed by scores of hushes and calls for quiet. Everyone wanted to hear what Paiscion would say next.

      “The inscription,” he continued, “is simply this …”

      He cleared his throat.

      “In blood it began. In blood it must end.”

      The gathering was silent long enough for Paiscion’s words to echo from the cliffs and then the whispers began again – whispers filled with fear. Worried looks were exchanged, faces paled, heads were shaken in foreboding.

      But the frightened murmurings fell away almost as soon as they had begun.

      The Magruman was smiling.

      He was standing with his arms crossed, waiting, with a broad grin on his face.

      “Forgive me, Paiscion,” protested Kaspertak, “but what is there to smile about? What can this be but a terrible prophecy?”

      “It is a clue!” cried Paiscion. “A clue written by Merisu himself, for who but he forged the Merisi Band? And if it is a clue written by Merisu, where should it lead us but to the book he himself began all those centuries ago.” He pointed across the gardens. “It leads us to the Samarok!”

      Suddenly the entire Say-So was focused eagerly on Sylas and the book he held before him.

      “I have just looked through the Samarok myself,” continued Paiscion. “Using the Ravel Runes, I have searched for that same phrase. References to blood lead to many entries, but blood and beginnings lead to only one. An entry deep in the ancient histories – an entry I have never seen before. Sisters and brothers, it contains the exact message we have found on the Merisi Band!” He paused to allow more excited chatter to die away. “Now, Sylas, as the rightful bearer of the Samarok, perhaps you could read the whole entry to us?”

      Sylas closed his eyes to overcome his nerves and to clear his mind. Finally he opened them and focused on the runes at the top of the page. Instantly they started to work their magic, changing from a nonsensical scrawl into intricate Ravel Runes, revealing their true meaning.

      He read the first words: “The Song of Isia.”

      “Speak up, please!” shouted someone high on the cliff.

      Sylas cleared his throat. “It’s a song!” he shouted. “The Song of Isia!”

      There was a new surge of excitement, with animated chatter, knowing nods and cries of, “Isia, of course!”

      “Quiet, everyone!” shouted Filimaya, clapping her hands. “Let Sylas finish!”

      Sylas turned his eyes back to the page, mastered his thoughts and read on:

       “She sings from the skies,

       Through earth and the sea;

       She sings through the lies

       To both parts of me.

       She tells of old lore,

       Of dark and the light;

       She tells of a war

       Two children must fight.”

      Suddenly the gardens were filled with more excited whispers. Sylas waited for them to calm before continuing.

       “She sings of two lands,

       Though one we can see;

       She tells of twin bands,

       To set us all free.

       She sings of the lines

       Of glove and the hand,

       She tells of a time

       For one final stand.

       But this time of sun

       Will end all too soon.

       Our hope quickly won,

       Will die in one moon.

       She sings from the skies,

       Through bare root and tree;

       She sings through the lies

       To both parts of me.

       In this her sad song

       A message she sends:

       In blood it began,

       In blood it must end.”

      He felt a slight shiver as he read the final lines, then looked up from the page to see hundreds of faces staring back. Paiscion was the only one who moved. He nodded quietly to himself, a smile growing on his lips.

      “And so there it is,” he said, almost to himself, his eyes bright behind his glasses, “our past, our present and our future!”

      There were murmurings from the crowd, then someone cried out: “But I don’t understand!”

      Paiscion threw his arms wide. “The song tells us all we need to know!” he cried. “That all is coming to pass just as the great Merisu foretold! That Sylas and Naeo, these two children wearing twin bands, are destined to fight a great war for freedom! A battle to vanquish the lies that have divided our two worlds! Our two selves!”

      “You see!” shouted someone by the river. “They are here to fight for us!”

      Paiscion shook his head. “Not to fight for the Suhl,” he corrected, “but for all humankind. For the freedom of all. For our right to be whole! The Suhl may be part of this war, but it will not be fought for us.”

      There were some whispers, but when no one spoke up, Paiscion turned back to the gathering.

      “But the song tells us more than that. It tells us that there is no time to lose, that hope will die in one moon, which can only mean the moon that brought Sylas to us.”

      “But it’s only just over two weeks before the new moon!” cried Glubitch, shaking his red locks. “It’s full tomorrow. Surely there’s no time for—”

      “It seems that’s all the time we have,” said Paiscion firmly. “We will just have to use it well. Which brings us to the true purpose of the song: to tell us what must be done next.”

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