5.Death of Chaos
CXXX
WE RODE NORTHWARD beyond the wall, toward Wandernaught, where we could rest before pushing on. A light rain continued to fall. My legs ached, and so did my arms, and my thighs. I could feel that Krystal's did, too, and we both knew it, and kept riding. It was better than walking. I didn't want to think about crossing the new Feyn Strait, or whatever they'd call it someday, but we'd find a way, somehow.
“When will it ever end?” said Krystal, turning in the saddle and speaking slowly so that I could see her lips.
After two repetitions I answered, “Never.”
She winced at my efforts to read her lips, because when I had to concentrate it hurt. Darkness! Even my pain for my efforts was passed on to her. I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, Weldein was talking.
“You... stopped the Emperor... won't send another fleet.” Weldein rode on Krystal's right, so that I could see them both, and I thought that was what he said. Tamra rode beside him.
I shook my head. “Not for a few years, but unless things change in Recluce and Candar, this will happen again.”
Krystal nodded, surprisingly, while Tamra stopped her mount.
“Wait a moment. Explain that,” Tamra demanded. “All this, and it was for nothing? All this?” Again, Krystal had to help get the question across to me, because Tamra still couldn't see and wasn't looking in my direction.
My eyes hurt, from both squinting and trying to see, and I could sense Krystal's discomfort. So I stopped and closed my eyes. It felt good not to have everything I looked at hurt, and not to have to move for a bit. The horse whuffed, and I patted his neck, and then wiped my face to clear away some of the wetness from the rain. Krystal touched my arm, and I got the sense that I should explain.
I opened my eyes and tried. “This can't happen again. Not for a long time. I had to release all the order in the iron beneath Recluce and the Eastern Ocean, maybe even as far as Candar and Nordla-I'm not sure. There's so much order that every bit of chaos...” I shook my head, and that hurt, too. “That's not quite right. What we-what I-did was break apart order and chaos into little tiny bits, tiny bits, and somehow, twisted them all together in tiny bits-that's what created all the heat. Order and chaos are linked together, in things, not by themselves, so that they can't join together. There won't ever be-not for a long, long time-much free chaos, or any chaos-masters. No order-masters, either.”
Tamra's mouth dropped open. “Justen... your father... knew... the death of chaos meant the death of order... ?” She said more, but I couldn't make out the words, even through Krystal.
I swallowed and nodded. It was getting hard to speak.
“...and Dayala?”
“It was easier for her, I think. She never thought they ought to be separate.” My throat was thick, and I didn't want to say any more.
Tamra looked down at the cold hard stones of the High Road.
Weldein rode up beside her and touched her shoulder. She began to sob.
At that moment, I wished I could cry or sob, or something, but I had cried all I could, and my guts were still knotted tight inside me. Krystal took my hand.
“Why?” I asked helplessly, knowing the answer, but having to say something.
She knew the answer, and knew I had to speak the words. So I did. “Justen and my father weakened chaos enough that metalworking could improve with steel. Chaos could no longer tear apart machines. Dorrin saw that problem a long time ago, but he must have felt that the machines would be limited by chaos-and they were. When Justen and my father reduced the power of chaos, they made possible the growth of machines, not ones based on ordered black iron, the way Dorrin did it, but ones built like a crafter builds a table or a desk.”
“... no order magic or chaos magic... again?” When she touched my skin and talked, understanding was easier for me, and for her, because I didn't have to strain to see her lips so much.
I had to laugh, but it was a bitter laugh. “Not for a long time. But chaos always has a tendency to separate out, and order has to be maintained, and the extra order in the world will slowly dissipate, and the chaos will grow and separate, and all the twists and hooks we established will fray...”
“... back where Creslin started...” asked Krystal.
“Not in a long time... maybe by the time of people's children's children's children's children-or longer.”
She reached over and squeezed my shoulder.
I shrugged. “The Brotherhood didn't understand-and neither did the Emperor-not until later, anyway, that concentrating the free order and chaos in Candar and Recluce made it possible for Hamor to build its ships and machines. One way or another, order-mastery and chaos-mastery were on the way out-for a while-after the fall of Fairhaven.”
“... a big wheel... turning... sometimes magic works... sometimes... doesn't?”
I caught enough of her words to answer. “I suppose so, in a way, except it always works on some level. Right now, Candar, and what's left of Recluce, have a chance to build their own ships and machines before Hamor regains its power.”
“That's not all.”
“No. The smaller countries in Candar will have to unite, somehow, or Hamor will still take them over.”
“More wars.” Krystal shaped her words carefully, and I understood.
“Sooner or later,” I admitted. “Everything seems to lead that way. At least I haven't found anything that doesn't. Only strength stops war, and nothing changes that, and I hate it, but it doesn't matter.”
“Now... you know.” Krystal smiled faintly, and squeezed my hand.
I knew what she meant, perhaps really for the first time, knew what carrying a blade meant when you were as good as she was.
We looked at the gray sky. Before long, it would clear, at least for a while. Behind us, Tamra held Weldein's hand, their mounts linked by their closeness, but she had stopped sobbing.
Krystal held my hand, but the knots in my guts didn't feel as if they would be leaving soon, nor would the knives in my eyes, and who knew when I'd be able to hear again. Closing my eyes, I thought about the dragons in my pack. Dragons-though I had never seen one-they would hold a chest together. Maybe in the end crafting was all that held anything together.