Arion shook her head. “No, you don’t spin the string. Just as you’re doing now, you always start with a loop. Artists can’t create anything new; they merely make connections from what exists. But we are also part of what exists, so we are the web itself, individual strands in our own string pattern. As you alter the patterns in that string, you are also altering the world around you, and because you are part of this world, you are altering yourself. If you can see this, then you can see the truth. The string you weave is really yourself, and the pattern you make is your own life.”
“Every time I hear you talk about the Art it seems less appealing.”
Arion smiled. “Tell me the truth. Just before I sat down, you were thinking that your beloved string game isn’t anywhere near as much fun as it used to be, weren’t you?”
“We don’t like her anymore, do we, Minna?”
The wolf lay on her side, a long tongue lying on the dirt as she panted.
Suri scowled. “You ruined my game, and now look what you’ve done to Minna. Must be someone else you can—”
Persephone came out of the dark, trailed by Brin and the little people, who jingled wherever they went. “Sorry,” Persephone said to them both. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Please interrupt,” Suri said.
Persephone looked puzzled for a moment. Then she said, “I need to speak with Arion.”
“About what?” Arion asked.
Persephone looked at the Miralyith, surprised. “You’re learning our language so quickly.”
“No, she’s not,” Suri said. “If you’re going to talk about anything important, speak in Fhrey. She has a terrible habit of nodding as if she understands. You’ll jabber on for an hour, and she’ll nod and nod, smiling all along, but she won’t understand a thing. Look, she’s doing it right now. Do you have any idea what I just said?”
Arion bit her lip. “You are speaking about me,” she said each word precisely, deliberately. “Something bad. Something…” Frustrated, she finished in Fhrey, “…insulting.”
“Maybe you are getting better,” Suri retorted.
“I’ll stick to Fhrey,” Persephone said. “Are you aware of the meetings in the lodge?”
Arion nodded. “You and the other Rhune chieftains are selecting a leader. Planning for war.”
Persephone nodded. “Not going well.”
“Can’t decide on a leader?”
“No, but that’s only one problem. We need supplies. Weapons. Without them, our people will be…how do you say…?” She made a cutting motion across her neck.
“Killed,” Suri provided.
“Slaughtered,” Arion said.
Persephone nodded, pointing at Arion.
“And they will supply you with weapons?” Arion asked, nodding toward the little people who’d followed silently behind Persephone. All three were there. The two long-bearded ones watched the conversation intently, while Rain, the one with the big pickax, knelt to pet Minna.
“That’s the plan—in exchange for a favor.”
“Nyphron’s idea?”
“No. In a way, it was Raithe’s. He refuses to be keenig because without better weapons we don’t have a chance.”
“He’s right. This war isn’t feasible. I have a better idea. A more reasonable way to mend the break between our peoples.”
“Feasible? Reasonable? A break?” Persephone’s brows rose as her hands reached for her hips. “Thousands have been massacred. I think that counts as a bit more than a mere ‘break between our peoples.’ I don’t think it’s unreasonable to—”
“To what? Kill thousands more? What good will that do? Why in Ferrol’s name would I…would anyone…want that? We need to find a way to co-exist. Waging war won’t bring that about.”
“And exactly what will?” Persephone asked, throwing up her hands in frustration.
“Her,” Arion said in Rhunic, and pointed at Suri.
Suri had only been peripherally listening to the conversation. She was more interested in introducing the one named Rain to Minna. He bent down to join Brin and together they discovered what Suri had known for years, that Minna loved being scratched behind her ears. But there was no mistaking that last part. “Me?” she asked.
Arion nodded. “My people think Rhunes are animals, mindless beasts. They feel no guilt about killing your kind. Just like you don’t consider it wrong to kill a deer. I know. I thought the same way before I met you. We need to prove to my fane…to all the Fhrey…that you are worthy of life and deserve respect, dignity, and sovereignty. If they can see we are more similar than they think, they’ll see their mistake.”
She turned to Persephone. “You want to save your people, and so do I, but not at the expense of my own. Both our people can live together peacefully, and Suri is the key. She’s not Fhrey, but she can use the Art even without training. I’m not sure you can appreciate what an amazing discovery that is. Artists, true Artists, aren’t common even among the Fhrey. If my fane could see that the Rhunes can use the Art, it will prove that the things that divide us are fewer than the many things we have in common.”
“So that’s why you have been pushing so hard,” Suri said.
Arion frowned. “You’re special, Suri. I can feel it the same way I sense the seasons. It’s not merely that you can use the Art. It’s you, yourself. I’m certain you’re the key to everything. You need to prove to the fane that Rhunes are just as wonderful, as important, and as deserving of life as the Fhrey. If you can do that, they will see their mistake and change their minds. But this can only happen if you accept who you are. Only then can you change the world.”
Persephone didn’t say anything for a long while. Her brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she said, “I wish it could be that easy, but the reality is that my people are vulnerable. As long as we can’t defend ourselves, we’re helpless. Obtaining weapons is crucial to our survival. Suri, what do you think?”
“I think summers should last longer than winters. I think dandelion wine isn’t nearly as good as Tura said it was. I think Minna is the wisest of all wolves, and she sees several problems with Arion’s plan. Don’t you, Minna?”
“Such as?” Arion asked.
“First, I’m not an Artist. Yes, I can light a fire, but I don’t think that is very impressive, and your fane wouldn’t think so, either. The only other time I used magic it ended in disaster, remember? That giant paid for my mistake with his life.”
“You killed the giant? The one from the rol?” Frost asked, his astonishment unmistakable.
Suri was equally surprised—she didn’t know the Dherg knew the Fhrey language well enough to follow the conversation.
“Yes, but I was trying to free him.” She turned her attention back to Arion and continued. “And second, I’m not likely to meet the fane. Am I? He sent giants and lightning to kill you, so you probably won’t be able to return home at all, let alone with me tagging along.”
“It’s definitely more difficult than it once was. If Gryndal hadn’t been killed, it would’ve been easy, but now things are more complicated.”