Back on Opaline the three expedition leaders conferred. Arlen experimented and found he could manufacture glass at will from the beach, or even from the seabed. Suddenly he had the ability to make crude windows for everyone. He could also make jars and stone-stoppered vials and fill those up with Sachin's medicine or the glittering blue dye. He asked to use it on a local weaver's palm-fiber cloth, then delivered samples to the sailors' settlement while traveling with the weaver.

The sailors laughed. "That man's dressed like a noble!" The cloth maker had a sash freshly stained with blue.

Arlen said, "Good. It seems we'll all be well dressed by your standards. And you'll be rich, so long as we get along."

The trouble, as the Opaline chief pointed out, was that some of the riches depended on Arlen personally. The islanders had no idea how to produce the dye normally. Without him, the trade was going to have to depend on products like fish, tourism, a port for Mariv's further naval exploration, and oddities like rare bird feathers. He wanted the place to be strong enough to defend itself and rich enough to encourage peaceful trade.

It was time to gather all the chiefs to figure out what came next.

#

He set sail from Opaline days later after messengers went out to all the isles. With the plague under control and the outsiders busy counting coins before earning them, there was a chance to make plans.

The priest Alfons came along as a guest, with the understanding that he wouldn't be in on the discussion. He wanted to see the spirits of Gull Crater again, now that he was more aware of the situation with the Builders' lost projects. Boats converged on the mountainous shore. Voz had arrived first to greet everyone. The foreign priest stayed behind.

The clouds hung low and dark; they'd been gathering all day. The chief of Stormhowl said, "It's familiar to me, but not here. Maybe the spirits are angry about everything we've stirred up." He looked toward Arlen.

"I'll try to reason with them."

The man from Newshore was actually elected, a new thing in the isles. Arlen had encouraged it. The voters had been all the adult men (there was only so much Arlen could change quickly) and had selected a tall warrior with a good smile and amazing hair. That man said, "Maybe what we need is to calm things down. Get the sailors out of here, finish cleaning up the stray ghosts, and seek the spirits' favor."

The new Opaline chief looked grim. She was a relative of the old one, felled by the plague. "I'm not sure we can expel them now. Peacefully, anyway. Arlen, can you topple their ships?"

"If I have to. Let's see if there's an alternative."

Rain fell, gradually strengthening. Decim's local chief said, "Arlen is the biggest outsider here of us all! He made himself overlord and it's been chaos ever since."

Arlen knelt before Voz and said, "You are the high chief. Tell me to get on the Mariv ships and never return, and I'll obey."

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Voz sighed, then looked at the other chiefs. "Do you see? He's one of us now, and he's done plenty for the islands. It's been difficult but we're stronger for it. We will consult the spirits and learn their desire."

They all marched uphill, through the rain. Voz's magic provided partial cover that made the water fall away to either side.

They reached the crater rim after a long walk. Right away, the pit before them boiled and seethed. The chorus of voices spoke. "Treachery! They seek to steal our power!"

"How?" said Voz.

"The outsiders came to the Catacomb. They sniffed around the Mire. They reached their covetous hands toward Newshore. They would take from us on purpose, just as Arlen did through ignorance."

"Is it true that I took the power of the Roaring Storm, then? The same power that you had used to trap everyone here?"

"To protect them!"

"But the wind and rain blow now. Do you have power over this weather right here?"

"Not enough, not enough!" howled the spirits. The other chiefs stepped back in fright, seeming not to understand the conversation.

One of the spirit voices said, "We were wrong to empower Voz. We should have husbanded our strength against the true threat, the Marivs."

But another of the chorus said, "We could have struck their ships right away. Too slow, and they could have fled."

"It would have worked!"

Voz stamped the ground. "You're supposed to be our guardians! I've been using my power to help the islanders. What have you done with it lately?"

Sulfurous smoke answered him.

Arlen said, "You said you're somewhat aware of what's on Newshore. How do we stop that pillar from doing anything else?"

"Give it to us," said the spirits in rare harmony. "It contains another shard of magic that should be ours."

"Were you stronger before it was built?"

"Yes!"

"When did you realize the human outsiders were harming you?"

"They were tricky, sneaky. But we saw through them quickly, with the tainting of the Mire's land and the building of Catacomb and other things."

They were talking about before, when the old Builders arrived.

Voz asked the follow-up question. "Then you were so strong, you could create a permanent raging storm even after your power was sapped by that undeath pillar. And at the time, you knew the Builders were weakening you. So why didn't you drive them away at the time?"

No answer.

The assembled chiefs were fearful. "Voz, Arlen. What does this mean? Why are you questioning them?"

Arlen said, "I think Voz and I are on the same track toward understanding what's really going on here. The storm, the Catacomb, the poison workshop, and the pillar of ghosts are all related, all wonders established by the Builders. So..."

He turned back toward the crater. "Give us a sign, spirits. The chiefs have assembled, but they do not hear you clearly. Do you wish us to drive the outsiders away?"

The spirits hissed and sizzled among themselves. Overlapping voices made themselves heard: "Banish them! Kill them!"

Arlen raised his arms. "Then let this mountain tremble and give forth seething lava to show your displeasure for everyone, even the foreign priest who waits on the shore. Let them see the glow of fire at this peak and know their doom, and your might!"

Voz was wide-eyed. "Arlen, I wouldn't ask for that!"

"I can protect us with stone, and you with water. We don't need an explosion, only a clear sign that the whole island can see."

The crater spoke. "You know our will, war-chief and peace-chief. That is enough."

"But the people must unite against the intruder, and not trust just a handful of chiefs."

Voz began to understand, too. "Yes, oh spirits. Give forth the lava!"

"We choose not to." Meanwhile, the storm grew all around them.

Arlen exchanged a grim look with Voz, and then began reshaping the stone ground to slope downward as a staircase. Into the crater.

The chiefs said, "Are you mad? What are you doing?"

Arlen ignored the outrage of the voices below. They fumed and steamed, but there was no killing heat, no poisonous smoke. He said, "I will go to the home of the spirits to learn one more answer. Come if you want to learn, too."