A rope hit her shoulder.
“Up,” said Raziya.
Madoka wiped her katana and dagger, sheathed both, then stuffed the crystal inside her blouse. It nestled against her belly just above her belt. She grabbed the rope and climbed out of the pit, then staggered over to one of the buckets used for watering the horses. She hoisted the full bucket up and dumped it over her head. The water rinsed away at least some of the filth. Danna pressed a cloth into her hand. Madoka scrubbed her face clean, then stared around her.
“Where’s that lying prick of a Comyn?”
“Gayla and Anja have him tied up across a saddle.” Danna looked around. “Where’s the one you chased?”
“Dead.”
“You killed him?” Raziya asked.
“The kirian killed him.”
“Did you get any of those answers?”
“I got more than that.”
The cool night air had begun to clear Madoka’s head. She brought out the crystal. Deep inside, a spark glimmered. More appeared, gathering into ribbons of light. They twined and danced, drawing her inward, lighting up the cold darkness that filled her spirit. Down in the depths, something like a sparkflower bloomed.
Madoka’s guts roiled, doubling her over. Dizziness made the night spin around her. Voices in her head. Not her thoughts. Raziya, angry at Gavin, ready to bury both him and the crystal in the same deep hole. Danna, angry about Gayla getting wounded. Pain tore through Madoka, pushing up and out of her in a shriek.
“Madoka!” Raziya grabbed her by the shoulders. “What is wrong with you? Everything living thing in the Hellers must have heard that!”
Danna caught Raziya by the arm. “It’s that crystal she’s holding. Look at it glow!”
Colored lights danced around Madoka. She tried to grab one.
“We have to get her to a Tower,” Raziya said. “Only Keepers know what to do with crystals that size.”
~o0o~
Four days’ hard riding took them south from Sain Scarp over Scaravel Pass and southeast to Neskaya. Between the nausea and the hallucinations, Madoka clung to the reins and did her best to stay in the saddle. The world kept turning gray. Pinpricks of light flashed everywhere around her. Sleep left her writhing in a world of mists and whispers. By the third day Raziya had to buy the biggest horse they could find and mount up with Madoka sitting in front of her. Only the Amazon’s arms on either side of her kept Madoka from tumbling out of the saddle.
~o0o~
“Peace, mestra. All will be well.”
Madoka opened her eyes. A girl sat beside her, thin and pretty with long red hair. She dabbed at Madoka’s sweaty face with a cool cloth, then held a porcelain cup to her lips. “Drink a little, mestra. You are quite weak.”
Madoka took a sip of tea. Her belly heaved. She rolled away from the girl and retched, bringing up nothing but bile. The glittering pinpricks appeared again, filling the air. Madoka fell back against her pillow.
“Raziya?”
“Here.” A hand clasped her right hand and held it tight. “Can you sit up?”
Strong arms lifted her. Someone else stuffed pillows behind her back.
“Mestra,” another voice said. “I am Linora Aillard, Keeper of this Tower. You show every symptom of threshold sickness. I am here to help you recover.”
Madoka stared up at the figure bending over her. Red robes. Red veil hiding the face, if there was a face. Another hallucination? A Keeper. A Tower. Not Nevarsin, unless they were in the guest house. Not Arilinn. Too far away. Neskaya?
“Where’s the magic rock?”
“You’re still holding it,” Raziya said.
Madoka became aware of the ache in her left hand. Her fingers gripped the blue crystal so tightly the ache extended halfway up her forearm.
“Be at peace, mestra,” the Keeper said. “Listen to my voice. I shall guide you.”
Alarm bells clanged in Madoka’s mind. Red robes. Danger. Keepers. Keep your hands off. Touching a Keeper was punishable by death. Keepers knew all about matrix technology. Ribbons of blue light fell across the Keeper’s red robes, striping them in purple. Purple in Japanese was murasaki. Lady Murasaki Shikibu wrote The Tale of Genji about a prince who wandered around seducing noblewomen. Charming but faithless.
“Dom Gavin,” Madoka said. “Where is he?”
“Here, Mestra Nakatomi.” He stood at the foot of her bed, looking remarkably civil. “I am so relieved to see you awake and alert. Threshold sickness often occurs when Comyn coming into puberty experience the awakening of their laran.”
“I am not Comyn.”
“We are in your debt, Mestra Nakatomi,” the Keeper said. “You stumbled upon the secret of Dom Anndra’s journey north.”
Madoka glared at Gavin. “And how much of this secret did you already know?”
“The Towers had picked up a brief signal from the Tramontana region,” Gavin said. “A burst of matrix crystal energy without any signature belonging to a known Comyn.”
“Why would a Ridenow go looking for that kind of trouble?”
“Our exact question,” Gavin said. “Anndra was an empath. The Ridenow Gift wouldn’t be of much use at such a distance.”
“And yet he found the crystal and brought it back over the Hellers.” Madoka frowned. “What I really want to know is why the magic rock decided I’m its favorite person.”
“Let go, mestra,” said the Keeper. “All that you love, all that you fear. All that binds the crystal to you.”
Binding. Attachment. The First Noble Truth: Everyone suffers. Attachment leads to suffering. Was Madoka too attached to something? The crystal, but she hadn’t chosen that. The crystal was outside. What lay inside? What held Madoka with chains so mighty she was slave to the attachment?
Madoka shut her eyes, fighting her way past the pain echoing through every nerve in her body. There were rules about matrix crystals. Every Comyn had his or her own little one. Once they got their crystal, nobody else touched it. If they did, it could cripple or even kill them. Ridenow must have known how to prevent the crystal from choosing someone before he arrived at his destination.
“Once upon a time,” she said, “a Comyn and a Terran joined forces to stop a bandit king from stealing the power of a matrix crystal.” Madoka nodded to herself. “The Terran had been captured by the bandit king who thought the Terran was a Comyn heir able to make use of the crystal. Does this story sound at all familiar, Dom Gavin?”
“Ancient history. Irrelevant.”
“Quite relevant. Your ancestor, Kennard Alton, and the Terran Larry Montray decided it was better to destroy the crystal than risk the devastation it could cause.” Madoka smiled. “Collateral damage: Kennard Alton’s crystal was destroyed.”
“What’s your point, mestra?”
“You can’t kill me. You can’t separate me from the crystal. And you sure as hell can’t let me just walk out of here with it.” On familiar ground again, Madoka felt stronger. “Whatever happens next, my cooperation is essential. How much is that worth to you?”
“Curing your threshold sickness. Making sure you don’t lose your mind before you can recover. And above all, not telling the Comyn Council you murdered Anndra Ridenow.”
“I didn’t kill him. You shot him up with kirian. You made him too weak and disoriented to walk a straight line. He fell into the latrine pit and drowned.”
“So you say. Have you any witnesses?”
“I have witnesses to you jumping Anndra Ridenow from behind, injecting him with kirian, then trying to read his mind by force.”
“Only a Comyn is qualified to bring such charges.”
“I’m guessing if it comes down to your word against mine, they’ll believe the person holding the magic rock.”
“The crystal has taken possession of something deep within you,” the Keeper said. “You know this to be true. All Comyn wear their crystals around their necks.”
“Slave collars,” Madoka muttered. So tired. Tired of fighting
all the time. “I’m nobody’s slave!”
“Let go. Let go of the cause of your pain, your sorrow, source of the chains that bind you to the crystal.”
Pain. Madoka fell down a well of memory, back to a time when her mother was still alive, when Madoka was very small. Her mother loved her, brushing her hair, bringing her little toys, always smiling. Her father.... Never more than a nod to acknowledge a birthday or a perfect score or even just a greeting.
When her brother Tomohiro arrived to ruin Madoka’s world, their father filled the house with lucky bamboo and showered their mother with jade. Every one of Tomohiro’s birthdays meant feasts and treats and celebrations. Madoka’s birthdays brought one red envelope, perhaps a new doll. Tomohiro. Spoiled, lazy, stupid and clumsy and arrogant. He got away with anything and everything, blaming all his faults on Madoka. Her good grades, her judo skills, any achievement great or small was dismissed in order to spare Tomohiro’s feelings.
“Your father refused to love you, Madoka,” the Keeper murmured. “Why? You were the best at any subject you chose.”
“Never enough.” Hot tears ran down Madoka’s cheeks. “Never good enough.”
“Your search has led you here, to Darkover. To a crystal from the Ages of Chaos. You yearn to prove how worthy of love you truly are. The crystal knows this.”
All those years of pain and rage and disappointment. All the punishments she’d suffered for Tomohiro’s bad behavior. She won the Samarra World Kendo Championship. Her father complained about the expense of sending her to that city, paying her lodging, shipping the trophy home again. Tomohiro began growing illegal herbs in a garden shed and selling them to his friends, turning them into addicts and dealers. He put the whole family in danger of arrest and prosecution. When Madoka discovered the plants and told their mother, nothing happened. The shed disappeared one night, and their father set Tomohiro up in his own landscaping business.
“You’ve done great things, Madoka,” the Keeper said. “Time to rest. Time to heal. Release the past. Break the chains that bind you to this crystal, this symbol of all your father has withheld from you.”
The crystal. Madoka raised her left hand. In the shifting gray mists, the blue crystal shone, its glow stabbing through the murk. The ribbons of light inside it rippled like the silks of her mother’s antique kimono.
“Are you my enemy?” Madoka asked.
I am yours. Friend or enemy, that choice is also yours.
“Let go,” the Keeper insisted. “You are not meant to carry such a burden. Leave that duty to us.”
Duty. Loyalty.
“Raziya?” Madoka closed her right hand. Raziya no longer held it. “Raziya? Where are you?”
“Fight!” The faint sound of Raziya’s voice reached Madoka through the mists. “Fight!”
In a world of gray uncertainty, Madoka reached for what she knew. The crystal in her hand flared, sending out a long shaft of blue light. It revealed five figures, two on each side of her and one right in front.
“Hands off the Amazon!” Madoka bellowed. “I’ll gut every one of you!”
Searing pain shot through Madoka’s head, ripping at her concentration.
“Worthless creature!” The Keeper’s voice now rang with scorn. “Unworthy. Unwanted. Unloved. Yield the crystal to those meant to possess it!”
Madoka stared at the katana she held, a sword forged of pure blue light. The gray mists surrounding her resolved into her room in her father’s house on Samarra. Tatami mats. A futon. Her books and clothing and trophies and everything that made her world bearable when she was still in school. She’d just come home from winning the Championship. There on her desk sat a handmade pawlonia wood case, long enough to hold only one particular object. Madoka opened the case to discover an antique katana. Not just some souvenir from a trip to the old country. This was an actual weapon of war.
“Do you like it, Doki-chan?”
In the doorway stood her father, dressed in a somber gray yukata with an obi striped in black and white wrapped around his thin waist. The use of her childhood nickname didn’t shock Madoka half so much as her father’s smile. An actual smile.
“You thought this came from your mother, didn’t you?”
“Hai, Oto-san.”
“That was for the best. Tomo-kun would have seen only its material worth and thrown a tantrum.”
“I—don’t understand.”
“I know. You are so strong, my daughter. No fear, even in the cradle. No matter what the challenge, you were determined to succeed.”
Was that pride in her father’s voice? Now she knew she was hallucinating.
“Doki-chan, I could leave you on your own because you didn’t need me. Tomohiro got most of my attention because he is weak. I had to keep watch over him to prevent even greater acts of shameful self-indulgence.”
Old pain brought the sting of tears. “I worked so hard. My hands bled. I broke my arm in kendo practice! You never said a word.”
“You did not need my praise, child. The whole world could see your strength and your skill.”
“I did need it. I needed it so much!”
“Words fade.” Her father extended one hand toward the katana. “Better to give you the gift that would prove my confidence in you as the rightful heir to our family’s history.”
Madoka took hold of the hilt, lifting the katana into the light. Perfect balance. As she studied it, she sucked in a painful gasp.
“A Sukezane! Oh, Papa, a real Sukezane!”
“Hai. There are older katana to be had, but this one seemed the best for you.”
At once all the shattered pieces of Madoka’s heart came back together in a sudden fusion of light and love and peace.
“Domo arigato gozaimasu, Oto-san.” She bowed. “I will do my best to be worthy of your confidence.”
“I know you will, my daughter. Should you wish to come home, even for just a visit, know that you will be more than welcome.”
The scene faded, leaving Madoka standing in the gray mist, holding the katana of light.
“Father!” she shouted. “See me now! See Nakatomi Madoka fight as our ancestors fought!”
She lunged, skewering the figure to her left. Pivot. Slash. A scream, to her right. Hot spikes pierced her bones. Ice crystals clogged her lungs. She held tight to the hilt of the katana, dismissing the illusions. The blue blade flashed and stabbed and burned its way through the gray mists.
“Too much!” The Keeper’s voice. “She’s too strong!”
“We’ve got to get that crystal,” said Dom Gavin.
“I am Nakatomi Madoka, daughter of fifty generations of samurai! Know me, and know that I will not be defeated!”
The Keeper screamed. The power of her will faded.
“Madoka!” Raziya’s voice. “Stop!”
Madoka opened her eyes to find herself on her feet. The cot where she’d lain had been knocked over. Bodies lay slumped on the floor. Two on her left, two on her right. At her feet lay the red-haired girl, the one who brought tea and cool cloths. Madoka stared around her at the wreckage of the room. In her hands she held only the crystal. Her father’s katana hung in its scabbard from a hook on the wall.
“What have I done?”
“You saved us.” Raziya leaned against one wall. At her feet lay two of the Tower guards. She limped over to Madoka. The Amazon’s clothing was torn. Blood stained one pant leg. A bruise darkened her cheek. “They tried to take the crystal from you.”
“What did I do?”
“You fought them. In that place where Tower sorcerers work their magic.”
Madoka knelt beside the girl and brushed aside the silky red hair that covered her face.
“Dom Gavin abandoned this child to a danger the Keeper herself refused to face?” She stood up. “Where have they gone?”
“Comyn Castle in Thendara. They mean to alert all Comyn.”
“Then we ride for Thendara.” Madoka stuffed the crystal down inside her blouse. She slung h
er father’s katana across her back. “They need to know Dom Gavin and his pet Keeper are traitors.”
~o0o~
Madoka reined in outside the tower that housed the Crystal Chamber, meeting place of the Comyn Council. Getting inside the gates of Comyn Castle had been easy. She wore a black leather jerkin over a burgundy tunic and black leggings with high black boots. Between her cover story and the power of the crystal itself, no one got in her way. Raziya and Danna pulled up on either side of her.
Madoka dismounted and adjusted the hang of her katana across her back. It now lay rolled inside a small decorative wall-hanging, scabbard and all. A length of parchment ornamented with patterns of maple leaves further disguised the sheathed katana. Madoka had bought the cheap piece of art at a shop near Thendara House while Raziya took Gayla and Anja inside to receive the medical care they needed. They could have gone to the Guildhouse in Neskaya, but they wanted to go home. Madoka knew that feeling all too well. While she’d been busy shopping, Danna stitched together a pouch from the length of oiled silk Madoka used to wrap up her throwing stars. Tan silk, patterned with green turtles, those symbols of longevity.
Now the pouch protected the crystal. Madoka touched the crystal where it nestled once again inside her tunic. She felt a kinship with turtles. When danger threatened, they could withdraw into their shells. Most enemies would give up and hunt some easier prey. Madoka sought her prey inside the Crystal Chamber itself. Gavin Alton would not escape her by hiding within its walls.
The House Guard in their uniforms of green and black stepped forward as Madoka approached the tower doors.
“What brings two Free Amazons and you, mestra, to Comyn Castle?”
“I have business with Dom Gavin Alton,” Madoka said. “He asked me to meet him here, him and the Keeper from Neskaya Tower.”
The guard in the more elaborate uniform looked her over. “Have you any proof of this?”
Madoka smiled, flexing her will and feeling a corresponding surge of power from the crystal. “How could I know which Tower the Keeper is from had not Dom Gavin himself told me?”
“What’s that on your back, mestra?”
“A scroll.”
“A message, then? That big?”
Citadels of Darkover Page 11
