Page 185 of The Cradle of Ice

Steps away, Frell and Pratik had cornered Tykhan, likely trying to pry more information out of that bronze lockbox, but from their looks of frustration, they were making no headway. Aalia had also returned to her couch with Tazar and Althea, their heads bowed together.

Kanthe crossed to Tykhan, interrupting some inquiry from Frell about the arkada, the crystal books found shattered in the storehouse beneath the Northern Henge.

“A question,” Kanthe interjected without any preamble, confronting Tykhan. “You stated earlier that your bridle-song was weak, but your communication skills were robust. That was the word you used. What did you mean by that?”

Tykhan looked mildly peeved, as if this were a line of inquiry that he’d rather not talk about. Still, he relented. “The ta’wyn, even a Root like myself, have the ability to speak to one another from afar. A necessary skill to coordinate and facilitate our work.”

Frell quickly understood the goal of this line of questioning. “Does that mean you can communicate to Shiya?”

“I can,” Tykhan admitted.

Frell, Pratik, and Kanthe shared hopeful glances.

Tykhan dashed them. “But I won’t.”

“Why?” Kanthe pleaded.

“As I said, we can communicate, but if I do, it will expose my location to all ta’wyn. They might not be able to discern the content of such a discourse, but they will know where it came from.”

“So, it would expose you to the enemy,” Pratik said.

Tykhan nodded. “They’re still out there, hidden and in unknown numbers. I survived their first attack, but I would not likely do so again. Since leaving my eyran, I’ve stifled any emanations of mine to remain concealed. Even my synmeld is too weak for anyone to register unless they were in the same room.”

Kanthe’s stomach clenched with a frightening realization. He pictured Shiya and Nyx casting forth with bridle-song.

Frell realized the danger, too. “Shiya … she’s not been silent.”

“She has not. After emerging from her eyran, she was basically a newborn. And it’s not just her synmeld that can be detected. A part of her is constantly calling out. She moves through the Crown like a leaking sieve. I’ve listened to her cross the Crown and out into the Wastes. She leaves a glowing trail in her wake. It’s how the Hálendii forces are tracking your friends.” His bronze brows wrinkled. “Though I don’t know precisely how they’re accomplishing such a feat. It’s worrisome and centers on something I’ve feared for centuries.”

Kanthe sensed Tykhan was skirting off the subject, but Kanthe was not ready to let it go.

“If Shiya is leaking and you’ve been tracking her, where is she? Did she and the others reach the site in the Wastes?”

Tykhan paused as if questioning whether to reveal something.

“What is it?” Frell asked.

“Where they’re headed,” he eventually said, “I know what’s out there.”

“What?” Kanthe asked.

“One of our creators’ great machines, what the ta’wyn built for them.”

Frell nodded, as if this made sense to him. “But what exactly is it?”

Tykhan shook his head. “I don’t know. That knowledge was either taken from me, or as a Root, I wasn’t high enough in status to be privy to it.”

Kanthe returned to his earlier question. “Did Shiya and the others reach there?”

“They are close—but where they’ve settled at the moment is confusing. There’s much interference. Something strange is happening there.”

“If so, then that’s all the more reason to reach out to them.” Kanthe looked to Frell and Pratik for support. They both nodded in agreement. “If Shiya has been leaking all this time and drawn no enemies, then surely a brief message to her is a small risk for a great reward.”

“I have to concur,” Frell said.

Tykhan shrugged. “I won’t do it.”

Kanthe formed a fist, but he knew if he punched that mass of bronze, he’d only bruise his knuckles. “I don’t understand why—”