"I've lost two Sunstones," Tal said mournfully.
But at least he had the whistle. That was the key to gaining the Codex and saving Gref. That was all he could think about now. The rest about the Veil and Aenir was too much.
Use the whistle. Get the Codex. Return to the Dark World. Find and save Gref.
It was like a light chant that Tal said over and over in his mind.
"The whistle is essential," said Zicka, indicating the bone instrument. "It is the device that will make the mountain move. As long as it continues to sound, the mountain will arch its back. While it does, Tal, you and Milla must rush under its belly and bring the Codex out."
"A Storm Shepherd would be faster," said Milla. She was thinking as she would for a hunt or a battle. "And stronger. How heavy is the Codex?"
Zicka's tongue flicked out in a Kurshken negative. Realizing that this meant nothing to the others, he quickly said, "No. The Codex cannot be touched by any creature of Aenir. That is part of its protection. As to its size, I believe that it can shrink and grow at will, within certain limits. But its weight remains the same.
"Which is?" asked Milla.
"Fairly heavy," said the Kurshken. "I do not know your measurements of weight. But perhaps the same as Tal."
Tal shook his head. He didn't feel up to walking fifty stretches, let alone running under a lifting mountain to bring out something that weighed as much as he did.
"How far will we have to go?" asked Milla. "And how long can Odris… or Adras… blow the whistle?"
"I believe about five ship lengths," said Zicka, indicating the distance from stern to bow with his arms. "And I do not know how long the whistle can be sounded."
Odris peered down at the bone whistle. "Days, I should think," she said. "Unless it's magical."
"It is magical," Tal said wearily. "Otherwise it wouldn't move a mountain."
"Let me try it now," said Odris.
She took the whistle, and raised it to her mouth. But no sound came out when she blew. Her cheeks bulged out farther and farther until she looked rather like a Gorblag. But still no sound came from the whistle.
"It has been made for a single purpose and can only be used near the mountain," said Tal with confidence. Aenir was full of magical items that only worked in certain circumstances or particular places. "Though I hope you can blow it there. Maybe Adras should do it. He can probably hold his breath longer."
"No he can't!" said Odris.
"Yes I can!" growled Adras. "Let's have a competition."
Both started to suck in air, requiring Tal, Milla, and Zicka to move sternward to avoid being pulled over.
Tal started to sit down with his back to the mast, but Milla jerked him back up.
"Don't! You'll get the deck wet!"
Tal angrily shrugged her hand off. Milla stepped back and Tal saw the familiar spread of her fingers that meant she was about to reach for her sword.
"I'm tired!" he yelled. "I've just been almost drowned! All I want to do is sit down. Cut my throat if you like, but that'll make even more of a mess of your precious boat!"
He sat down. Milla clenched her teeth and drew her fist back as if she had taken Tal seriously and was going to hit him with that instead of a weapon, so as not to make him bleed. But Zicka plucked at her wrist.
"Do not fight!" the Kurshken asked. "Roquollollollahahinanahbek has had wet and muddy decks, even bloody ones, before - and will again. She is a working ship, not a relic of the past."
Milla scowled and turned away.
"Thanks," said Tal. "But if this is your boat, why is Milla so upset?"
"This ship," Zicka corrected, "once belonged to the most famous ancestress of Milla Asteyr, who with Ramellan ended the war between the worlds."
"Who?" asked Tal. "What war?"
"Ask your Codex," replied Zicka. "Since you will doubt whatever I tell you."
"I will." Tal hesitated and then added, "Whose boat did you say this was?"
"Asteyr's," said Zicka.
"And what was the other name you mentioned? You said Asteyr and someone else ended some war?"
"Ramellan. Do you recognize the name?"
Once again, Tal didn't answer. He did recognize the name now. Ramellan was some sort of important Chosen from the dim past. He couldn't remember exactly why he was important. He was some sort of Emperor before the Chosen had Emperors, Tal thought. A name mentioned in passing in a history lesson, and nothing more.
Zicka stood by as if expecting Tal to ask more questions, but the Chosen boy was saved by a sudden shout from Milla.
"The Mountain! Dead ahead!"
Tal wearily stood up and looked ahead. Sure enough, there was a gray mountain rising out of the many channels and islands ahead of them. It was still some distance away, a few hours sailing at least.
"So, there it is," said Tal. "Do you know if the mountain is guarded?"
"No," replied Zicka. "I know only what the Codex has chosen to share with my forebrain." "Your what?"
"Forebrain," said Zicka, tapping the lump between his rather poppy eyes. "We Kurshken have two brains. The forebrain is the animal mind, but we also have the `rorquialosschurr,' or afterbrain. The Codex can project its thought into my forebrain and I can communicate with it from my after-brain, or let the Codex use my forebrain to control my voice."
Tal tried to suppress a shudder. He didn't like the idea of having two brains. What if one of them didn't agree with the other one?
"So there could be guards," Tal said. "Though I suppose whoever put the Codex there wouldn't expect anyone to get the whistle from Hazror."
"Whether there are guards there now or not, all of Aenir will soon know if Cold Stone Mountain moves," said Zicka. "You must be prepared to flee as soon as you have the Codex."
"We'll take it back to the Castle," agreed Tal. "But I'll have to find somewhere I know to make the crossing safe. Where is the Chosen Enclave from here?"
"South," said Zicka. "A few days' travel, walking. Do you have to go there?"
Tal shook his head.
"No.
But I have to be somewhere I know. If the Enclave is a few days south, does that mean the Sunken Stone Circle is somewhere near here?"
"Yes. Southeast. You could probably reach there by sundown, at a brisk pace. But that ring of stones is no place to be after dark."
"Yes," Tal agreed. "But I have been to the Sunken Stone Circle several times before, so I know it well enough to use it as a crossing point."
He looked up at the bow to where Milla was standing, shading her eyes to watch the river and the mountain ahead. Despite the sun, she cast no shadow.
"I'd better… I'd better make my peace with Milla," Tal said, as he stared at the sunshine on the deck. He felt sick at what he'd done to her now, but he would never admit that.
He approached her slowly, all too aware of the Merwin-horn sword at her side and her acute reflexes. When he was four or five stretches away, and possibly out of reach of a sudden lunge, he stopped.
After a moment, Milla turned to face him. He saw hatred in her eyes, and flinched.
"Milla," he said, unconscious that he was holding his hands out to the Icecarl, as if he begged something from her. "I… wanted to say…"
"Your words are nothing," said Milla. "They are the mist that is parted by the ship, the ice chips under my skates, the blood that drips from day-old Selski meat."
Tal gulped. This was even harder than he thought. He couldn't believe he was trying to apologize to someone who was so alien to him. He felt strangely inferior standing here before her. She seemed taller somehow, the Sunstone ring on her finger flaming in the sunlight, the Merwin-horn sword bright, too. More like a Chosen of legend than anything else.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Tal said. He was shaking as he spoke, and there were tears glistening in his eyes, tears that were made as much of anger and guilt as they were of sorrow. "I didn't know… I just had to do it… My father told me I had to look after the family, that I had to do whatever it took to keep them safe.
Whatever it took, and what it was was my shadow and your shadow, too, and I didn't even think what it would mean to you. And it was my fault that Gref climbed after me and got taken, and I