52: Metal and Magic

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“The plan,” Smon explains, “is to build a Rayjo Tau, which is our version of a communication tower, on the Northern side of the mountain range, overlooking the ocean.”

“That won’t work,” one of the men, who had introduced himself as Keton, protests. “Not only will the mountain range block your communication, but the wingsong stream is dead on that side, anyway. You could probably find an active stream if you looked hard enough, but it wouldn’t carry anywhere useful, unless you want to talk to the water.”

“Talking to the water is exactly what I want to do. Many of my hivemates would have landed to the North, and I believe that many of them will still be alive. The lack of wingsong stream doesn’t matter; the Rayjo does not use wingsong. Rayjos talk to each other by flashing invisible light.”

“You know,” one of the other men says, somewhat uncomfortably, “for someone who claims not to be a star, you sure use a lot of light magic.”

Smon shrugs. “And to me, your glow pools and incredibly strong fired mortar look like deep and powerful earth magic. Such are the differences between us. But when the wingsong stream settles back down, communicating with my hivemates on the continent will not be a problem; I’m not concerned for them. It’s the ones out of wingsong stream contact that I need to reach, so that we can gather and build our hive.”

“And you want to gather them here,” another woman, Yar, says. “You want to flood our territory with strange people and build a strange hive on lands that are rightfully ours.”

The general mood of the whole room changes at this insinuation. It’s not a good change.

Smon raises her hands in a pacifying gesture that the hiveheart have no context to understand, and takes a step back. “No, not necessarily. There is no reason for us to get into your way. Look at my body; we do not burrow. We do not fly. We can settle somewhere up in the mountains, somewhere that you deem acceptable; out of the way, but close enough to trade – ”

“Trade?” Keton asks, and the whole hiveheart perks up once more. “You will share your light magic with us?”

“Well… no. I can’t trade that, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?”

“It’s very powerful; it could throw off the whole trade balance with the other hives — ”

“And are the other hives ceding their own precious territory to a new hive?” Yar cuts in.

Smon has taken another step back, and is close to the back wall of the room. She reaches a hand out to touch the smooth, black stone behind her. “What do you call this type of rock?”

“Obsidian?”

“Obsidian.” Smon nods. “A fire-rock. All of these walls are fire-rocks. This mountain was born in fire spewed from deep within the earth, a long time ago. About sixty per cent of the gems decorating your hive’s entrance are gems formed in fire rocks; you have deep networks of tunnels through these mountains. About thirty per cent of the gems are from earth and life rocks; these would have come from seastone on the coast, I think, meaning that your tunnels burrow through to the other side of the fireborn core of this mountain and into the seastone. But tunnellers though your people may be, digging through stone is not like digging through dirt. You need tools to help, don’t you? Metal tools, I would guess.”

“What of it?”

“I haven’t seen a lot of your hive yet, but I didn’t see any metal in the entrance hall. I’m guessing that you don’t have a whole lot to spare. And yet, the walls of your home are rich with it. To the far East, the Redstone River spawns from lands so metal-rich that it colours the very water, and while there is clearly less metal than that in this part of the range, there is plenty to spare.” She touches another piece of black stone, of ‘obsidian’, and shines her lightstone onto it, pointing out little speckles within. “These are spots where the the obsidian is stained with metal. Impossible to extract and use, but indicative of its presence in the environment. My guess is that you find small deposits of solid metal as you mine.”

“You know a lot of mountains,” Keton says, a new respect in his tone.

“I am a lorekeeper among my hive. The lore that I focus on is that of stones and earth. This is my suggestion: we set aside the question of where to permanently establish a hive, for now. You allow me to build the Rayjo Tau and gather my people, and then we can discuss where to settle. We can move outside your territory if you wish, but after the tower is built.

“To build this tower, I will need a lot of metal. I can’t dig it out myself, but I can use my magic to find it. I will find metal deposits for you, and in return, I will get one third of the metal you dig up on my advice for my communication tower.”

“One fifth,” Keton says immediately.

“That is reasonable,” Smon agrees.

After a brief pause, Mal speaks up. “We have lived in these mountains a long time. We know their song, we know their bones. Do you believe that you, an outsider, and self-admittedly not a tunneller, can find metals that we cannot?”

“I am a mere lorekeeper,” Smon says, “and an outsider as you say, not familiar with these specific mountains. It is true that there are things known and sensed by only those who actually dig, whose life is exploring the mountain rather than merely keeping lore. It is also true that living in a place for generations can give you a deep understanding of it that no amount of learned lore can provide. I have no doubt that there are many things, including metals, within this mountain that you can find, and I could not. However, they are not relevant to this discussion – you will find them whether or not you have my help. There are metals that I believe that I can help you find, that you would not find on your own, or at least not find so easily, for though I lack history here, I do bring one advantage.” She raises her hand, and shines light from the magic stone on her wrist. “Magic.”

The hiveheart stare.

“You can divine the presence of metals with your magic?” Keton asks.

“I can. When we landed here, we did not know that there were already people here. We did know that we would need a lot of metal to survive. We brought with us tools for finding it. The best and strongest ones are very heavy and cumbersome; I couldn’t bring them with me from Redstone River. I can bargain with traders to get them brought up, but it will take a long time. For now, though, I do have smaller tools that can give me senses that you do not have. I can use magic to see through stone and make the metal within sing to me.”

Another thoughtful pause. The hiveheart all exchange head-tilts and wing-flicks.

“We will discuss this proposal,” Mal says shortly, and just like that, the travellers are dismissed.

Outside the room, their escort has been changed for a young truesibling pair, the man’s wings only barely full-coloured, and Tyk notices that they are distant half-cousins of hers; the colours of Kepol’s grandfather and half-grandfather shine on the man’s wings. Since Ketyk’s wings aren’t coloured yet and there’s no wingsong stream for Redstone River to tell Glittergem who she is, the relationship has to be a coincidence; Tyk decides to take it as a sign of good luck. The woman has some carvings up her sides despite her youth, but not particularly complicated ones; Tyk doesn’t know anything about Glittergem shell carvings, and isn’t sure what they mean. Both of them look incredibly nervous of Smon, and Tyk wonders if Smon’s about to explain to them that she isn’t a star right there in the entrance hall. (Not that ‘traveller from a previously-unheard-of second Earth, by the way let me upend your entire cosmology really quick’ has ever made anybody more comfortable around her, but whatever.)

She doesn’t. She formally introduces herself, and Tyk formally introduces herself and Ketyk, and the pair nervously dip horns and wings and the woman says, “W-we are honoured to receive you as our guests. My name is Mia.”

“And I am Kemia,” her truebrother adds, no less nervously. “We are honoured to serve as your liaisons during your stay.”

“W-we have, um. We weren’t sure about your specific needs? So we have several accommodation options available, if a residential burrow is insufficient. Or if it isn’t, we have that!”

“I would like to stay close to the cart I arrived with, if possible,” Smon says. “Do you have a trader burrow available?”

“Yes! Your cart will be safe there! B-but you can’t, I mean, we have so much nicer… surely a more comfortable and dignified…”

“We just came up the trade road alone in the middle of the wet season,” Smon points out as gently as she can. “I assure you, a trader burrow is perfectly sufficient. I’d rather keep an eye on my cart; it’s extremely important.”

“R-right, yes; we can arrange that. Tyk, Ketyk, we have a very nice burrow that you can — ”

“We’d prefer to stay with Smon, if that’s alright,” Tyk says.

“Yes. O-of course. I can, uh, show you to the trader burrow, then.” She leads them back towards the entrance. Kemia flies off, probably to inform whoever was responsible for actually organising things about the change in residential arrangements.

“We’ll make it nicer,” Mia says apologetically as she leads them to the trader burrow, a short way away from the hive proper.

“It’s beautiful,” Smon says. “Thank you.” Her tone, captured by the echo stone with its accompanying words, doesn’t portray her mood; Tyk knows her well enough to see that she’s distracted, and barely looking at the burrow. She heads right over to her farm to check on it.

Tyk does look around the trader burrow, and it’s surprisingly beautiful. It’s built into the earth, not the stone mountain, and looks much like the burrow she’s used to at Redstone River, and like the one at Green Hills – a large dome of fired mortar, with a flat floor and wide entrance to allow trader carts to be pulled in and out easily. (Presently empty, except for their own possessions.) The inside of the dome is carved into a map, to help traders orient themselves and plan their journeys. There are two things that make the Glittergem dome map stand apart – first, the Glittergem hive is not at the very top in the centre of the map, as a hive usually is. It’s about two thirds of the way down the back wall. A moment’s thought clears up that mystery; not far below Glittergem (that is, to the North on the map) is the coast. Putting it right up the top would mean that half of the dome would just be ocean; a waste of perfectly good mapping space.

The other major difference is the gems.

Generally, the maps in these domes are simply carved into the mortar before firing. One does not waste elaborate ornamentation on such a thing. In Glittergem, the feeling is apparently different, as every hive, every landmark is bejewelled, sparkling where sunlight can reach through the door and sitting smooth and dark like a facet of colourful shell betraying a hiding crab where it can’t. The river gleams in specks of orange and scarlet, depicted in all its high wet season glory, even though for most of the year it doesn’t look like that. A chip of green marks the Green Hills Hive, and further South the Redstone River Hive, and following the Northern coast West from Glittergem, another one marks the Seastone Bay Hive, where Sakeya and Kekeya’s doomed friends were from.

The only hive not marked in green is Glittergem Hive itself, which is instead denoted by a multicoloured stone. Black, mostly, but flecked with all colours of the rainbow that seem to shift and dance as Tyk moves to get a better view.

“I’ll get you some food,” Mia says. “Ah, what… what sort of foods…?”

Smon is too distracted by her farm to notice the question right away, so Tyk answers. “Smon needs high energy foods,” she says. “She has a process to make them into foods that she can eat.” It’s not strictly true – Smon’s gotten by feeding the farm random grasses and roots just fine – but the less energy in them, the more she needs and the less she gets out of the farm, and even Tyk knows that she hasn’t been getting enough on the road. Besides, Mia seems to get more and more distressed the less demanding they are. Letting her demonstrate the hive’s grand hospitality through bringing them the best food is probably harmless.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Mia says, and she does sound relieved at being given high standards for something. “I shall return soon!” She scampers off.

Smon, apparently satisfied that nobody’s tampered with her farm, sits on the floor and leans back against it, heaving a deep sigh. “She thinks I’m a god still, doesn’t she.”

“Nobody’s really had any opportunity to explain otherwise.”

“Should I have?”

“Probably not. I imagine that the hiveheart will want to do a big announcement.”

“You’re right. Showing up like this when they’ve been working for so long on false information has given us an enemy I wasn’t expecting to fight, and one I might not be able to defeat.”

“An enemy?”

“Yes. One found on every Earth, I expect.” She screws up her face. “The pride of powerful people.”

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