Page 287 of The Cradle of Ice

Frell shook his head, still clearly frustrated. “But why did Eligor forbid anyone from destroying the turubya?”

“As I said, the ta’wyn could thrive on a barren rock—but not one shattered to pieces. Destroying a turubya risked that happening. Likewise, it remains too early to know how devastating moonfall will be to the Urth. Eligor wanted the turubya preserved in case he needed to intervene should moonfall prove too risky to the planet’s fundamental structure.”

Aalia stared hard at Tykhan, suspecting he was still hiding something. “That’s not the only reason Eligor wanted the turubya preserved, was it?” she challenged him. “It must have something to do with that third task you said we needed to accomplish.”

Tykhan smiled. “I chose my empress well.”

Aalia scowled. “What is it that we’re supposed to do?”

“I mentioned before, at the end of the war, Eligor was defeated, and his broken body whisked away by a handful of Revn-kree survivors. The end of this story bears on both parties in the months ahead. Those survivors were led by Eligor’s second-in-command, an Axis like Shiya. I believe he, and possibly other Revn-kree, guard the second turubya within the Barrens. That Axis will be far more dangerous than a half-crazed Root.”

Everyone fell silent, knowing how close they had come to defeat in the Wastes. If an Axis and a small army were entrenched in the Barrens, what hope was there for the world?

Still, Aalia refused to bow to despair. “This tale of yours … how does it impact us in the Crown?”

“When the Revn-kree fled with Eligor’s body, there was a piece missing, an important piece.” He stared around the table. “The head of Eligor.”

Kanthe guessed at the implication. “And that head must be in Hálendii. That’s why you want us to invade. To find and destroy the last of him.”

“First, it will not require much searching,” Tykhan said. “I know exactly where the head of Eligor is hidden.”

Kanthe frowned. “Where?”

“Deep in the Shrivenkeep. Preserved in a great instrument of the Iflelen.”

Kanthe looked aghast. “How long have they had it?”

“For many centuries.”

“Then why haven’t you already stolen it?” Frell asked. “You could have destroyed it long ago.”

“Because I don’t want it destroyed. And the Iflelen have done a masterful job of protecting and preserving it. I saw no reason to intercede until now.”

Frell scowled. “I don’t understand. Why did you want it preserved? Why don’t you want it destroyed?”

“The head alone is harmless. But within that bronze skull is a buried secret. One that will take the ingenuity of a kingdom and an empire to dig out.”

“What secret?” Pratik asked.

“When Eligor betrayed us, he stole a component that is necessary to engage and direct the turubya. While those two massive spheres will power the turning of the Urth, what he stole controls them both.”

“That’s why he forbade the turubya from being destroyed,” Aalia realized aloud. “He wants mastery over them. A power that could rip the world apart as easily as saving it.”

Tykhan gave her a small bow of his head. “Now you understand. For any hope of stopping moonfall, we must secure the kingdom and that head—then discover where Eligor hid what he stole.”

“What did he actually take?” Pratik asked. “What does it look like?”

Tykhan shrugged. “I do not know. Such knowledge is well beyond the scope of a menial Root. All I know is that it must be found. Or all is doomed.”

Silence settled over the room. Aalia could only imagine how those in the Wastes were handling all of this.

Tykhan lifted a palm. “I will end our communications with the others here. We each know what we must do. To extend this conversation any longer is too great of a risk.”

After a long stretch, talk slowly resumed around the table. Aalia remained standing, staring over at Tykhan. She came to another realization and crossed over to keep her words with the Augury private.

“You are no longer open to the others?” she asked.

“Correct.”