Heartlight

by T.A. Barron

  “How do you explain that?” questioned Ariella. “That doesn’t sound right.”

  Her mother’s crystalline body, fully twice as tall as Kate, shook with anger. “It isn’t right,” she declared. “The Voice does not wish to preserve the True Music of Trethoniel. No! The True Music is made of mortal voices, a chorus of Celethoes and crystals and creatures of all kinds, whose music is made wiser and deeper by their very mortality. The music of the Voice, which it longs to preserve, is utterly different. It is a thin and artificial verse that could stretch on forever, oblivious to the pain of death or the tragedy of transformation. Only by understanding the unity of life and death have we given birth to wisdom and hope. The music of the Voice is immortal, but dead; the True Music of Trethoniel is mortal, but ever alive.”

  The two young beings sat silently, absorbing her words. At last, Kate spoke again.

  “What is the Voice, really? Where does it come from?”

  The Nurse Crystal did not reply.

  “Please tell us.”

  “The Voice is part of the star,” the great crystal said at last, “just as the True Music is part of the star. Like the music, the Voice is the sum of many individuals, but those individuals fear death so greatly they would sacrifice everything wise and beautiful just to stay alive.”

  “They are very bad,” observed Ariella.

  “No, they are not bad individually. They are only bad collectively, when they have grown too strong—as they have in the realm of Trethoniel. Every living being, young and old, has an echo of the Voice somewhere in itself. That is the call of self-preservation, of survival. It is a good and healthy thing, unless it grows too powerful.”

  “As it has here.”

  “I fear so,” the crystalline creature said sadly. “As the collective heartlight of Trethoniel grew more selfish, the Voice grew in power. We who should have known better allowed it to grow too strong.”

  “But how could you?” demanded Kate. “How could you ever let such a thing happen?”

  “Because it happened very, very slowly, and at first it seemed to be more good than bad. As Trethoniel grew and evolved, propelled partly by its desire to survive, much great beauty was wrought. Crystals blossomed like never before, Celethoes multiplied, starlight flourished, and healing warmth flowed throughout the heavens. Trethoniel became one of the loveliest stars in the universe.”

  Just then the darkened sky above Broé San Sauria rumbled with thunder. The Nurse Crystal wrinkled her face in concentration, as if she were straining to hear something. Finally, the deep silver pools of her eyes fell directly on Kate. “Someone you love is in very serious trouble.”

  “Grandfather!” exclaimed Kate. “What is happening to him? Is he safe?”

  “No,” answered the Nurse Crystal. “He is in the greatest danger that can befall any mortal being.”

  “Then I must warn him!” Kate tried to stand, but dizziness descended on her like a torrential rain, and she fell to her knees. “How can I warn him if I can’t even get to my feet?” she wailed.

  The Nurse Crystal reached a glittering arm to touch her brow. “Soon you will feel better. Your strength is returning faster than I had ever expected.” Then a new thought twinkled in her eyes. “I wonder if Nolora …”

  She looked at Kate lovingly. “You will be on your feet soon.”

  “Soon isn’t good enough! I want to help him now.”

  “First you must listen.”

  Again, Kate tried to stand, and again the dizziness drove her back. “All right,” she said resignedly. “I’m listening.”

  The eyes of the Nurse Crystal filled with the pain of some distant memory. “Slowly, inevitably, the Voice’s lust for immortality overcame all the good works. Before those of us who understood the deeper truths could rouse ourselves, the Great Trouble was upon us. The Voice had grown very powerful—so powerful that we could not stop it from expanding the star beyond its true size. We could not even stop it from destroying the planets nearest to Trethoniel as it grew larger and hotter.”

  A sudden revelation struck Kate. “So that’s how the Bottomless Blue turned into a big desert.”

  “Sadly, yes,” agreed the Nurse Crystal, her moist eyes glistening. “As the star has swelled, it has burned away Nel Sauria’s once-glorious ocean. At the same time, it has softened our snows, killed our crops, and warmed our side of the planet beyond a sustainable temperature. The Great Trouble grows worse by the hour. Never again will those wondrous waves embrace our snowy shores; never again will the wisest of the Nurse Crystals pilgrimage to the High Waterfall to meditate upon those infinite blue waters.”

  “The waterfall!” exclaimed Kate. “Did the Nurse Crystals build a trail to the top of this waterfall?”

  “Long, long ago,” replied Ariella’s mother, “in the days when even the Sage of Sauria was young.”

  “Why didn’t you explain all this to me before?” asked Ariella.

  The Nurse Crystal touched her lightly on her arm. “Because you are so young, my child. I was hoping to wait for a better time, a more peaceful time.”

  “Why haven’t you tried to stop the Voice?” questioned Kate. “Why haven’t you fought against it?”

  “We have!” the Nurse Crystal answered. “We have fought with every ounce of our strength—every ounce of our heartlight—just to prevent the Voice from achieving its goal.”

  “Which is?”

  “To live forever.”

  “But,” protested Kate, “that doesn’t sound so bad. I mean, lots of people want to live forever.”

  “Indeed,” the Nurse Crystal said wistfully. “Most mortal beings would love to live forever. But they cannot, because that would destroy the Pattern.”

  “Why?” asked Ariella.

  “Because the Pattern is an endless thread that ties everything in the universe to everything else. If any being tries to go on living forever, then it must steal its energy from someone else who deserves to live. This star has a time to die, just as I do. And if the Pattern is intact, a being who dies doesn’t totally disappear from the universe. It merely changes form.”

  Ariella spun to her mother’s side and looked up at her with doubting eyes. “Do you really believe that? Do you really believe we just change our form when we die?”

  “Yes, my child, I do.”

  “Then why don’t I believe it?” the small snow crystal objected. “Death seems so very final—so very sad. Please don’t ever die! I don’t want you to die!”

  “I know,” said the Nurse Crystal, as she stroked the delicate arms of her child. Her silvery eyes glowed softly. “You are right that death is sad. Perhaps one day you will understand it is also something more. I pray you will be given the chance.”

  “I’ve got to warn Grandfather now,” said Kate with determination. “I’ve got to warn him about the Voice!”

  “That will be very dangerous,” cautioned the Nurse Crystal. “Remember what happened before! Are you certain you are really ready?”

  Kate frowned. “Could the Voice really have destroyed me completely if you hadn’t come to my rescue?”

  “No,” answered the Nurse Crystal. “Its powers are not yet that great. At least some of your heartlight would have survived.” Her round eyes opened to their widest. “But for you, being extinguished might have been a kinder end. Any elements of your heartlight that survived would have been utterly mutilated, beyond any recognition. You would have been afflicted with permanent pain and undying agony. You would not have remembered your grandfather, and he would not have recognized you.”

  A shudder ran through Kate. She turned to scan the sky above the green dome. The darkness had lifted somewhat, and a pale red light sifted through the clouds.

  “I’ve got to try again,” she declared, struggling to raise herself.

  The great crystal reached down and lifted her gently to her feet. “Then lean on me until you have regained your balance.”

  The dizziness had disappeared, but Kate still felt
very wobbly. She rested for a moment against the broad body of the Nurse Crystal, not yet daring to stand alone.

  “If the Voice is so powerful, why is it so afraid of me? I’m nothing more than a tiny flea, compared to a giant elephant. And what does it want with Grandfather?”

  “Only you can answer the first question. But as to the second question, the answer is clear. The Voice is not yet immortal. It is almost there, but not quite. The future of this star now hangs on the thinnest of threads.”

  The Nurse Crystal paused, her intricately carved arms glistening in the dim light. “The Voice has been held in check by an alliance of many beings, great and small, near and far. We prefer music to thunder; we prefer the living universe to a living body; and we prefer even death to eternal stagnation. We have mustered all our strength, as has the Voice, and we have wrestled with each other until we have finally arrived at a complete and absolute stalemate. If only one additional drop of heartlight joins with the Voice, it will tilt the scales enough to destroy the Pattern. But the heartlight must be given by a being with free will, or it cannot change the balance.”

  Kate was thunderstruck. “So that’s why the Voice wants Grandfather! It’s going to ask him for his heartlight!”

  “It has already asked,” corrected the Nurse Crystal as she cast a worried glance skyward. “And your grandfather has very nearly accepted.”

  “No!” objected Kate, taking a few halting steps. She turned to face the crystalline creature. “He wouldn’t do that. He knows too much!”

  “He knows many facts. But his great knowledge may obscure his own wisdom. He may not realize that if he sides with the Voice, he will destroy the Pattern. And something more. He will also destroy his own heartlight.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  The Nurse Crystal bent lower so that her hexagonal face was almost touching Kate’s. “Once heartlight is given, it can never be returned.”

  Kate stepped backward. “That means—that means he would die.”

  “No, Kate. It means something much worse. His heartlight would be lost. It would pass out of the universe … forever.”

  “But I thought heartlight could never be lost!”

  “It can be lost if the Pattern is broken.”

  “No,” Kate protested. “We must stop him!”

  “The Voice must move swiftly if it is to succeed. If it does not cross the edge into immortality very soon, it cannot sustain itself much longer. The natural forces of the universe—the workings of the Pattern—will eventually win out. If, however, it can manage to swallow one more modicum of heartlight, then it would break the bonds of mortality and the Pattern as well. It would become a gluttonous monster squeezing the heartlight out of every living thing in its path. Already, just to sustain itself until it gets the heartlight it needs, it is consuming more pure condensed light than even the Celethoes can produce. So it has started to siphon the pure condensed light away from other stars.”

  “The Sun!” exclaimed Kate in horror. “Is that what’s happening to the Sun?”

  “Yes. The star you call the Sun is one of those whose energy is being stolen.”

  “And Morpheus and Orpheus. The Voice stole their light, too?”

  “No doubt. But while light can be stolen, heartlight cannot. It must be given freely. And if your Grandfather is not stopped, I fear that is what he will do. Then the Voice will have won, and the Pattern itself will begin to unravel. The Voice will continue to grow like a deadly cancer until it has, finally, consumed or destroyed every drop of heartlight in the universe.”

  “We must reach him. You’ve got to help me reach him!”

  The Nurse Crystal’s eyes darkened. “If you try to reach him, Kate, you will have to do it alone. We crystals lost whatever powers might have been useful in our battle to save you. We are powerless now to do anything more than to keep our own heartlights aligned with the True Music. I’m afraid there is nothing more we can do.”

  “Then there’s no hope at all.”

  “Kate,” whispered the small voice of Ariella, who was tugging on her hand. “I won’t let the Voice do anything to hurt you.”

  But Kate felt no comfort. “I want to do something,” she whispered. “But what? I can’t fly to him without Morpheus. I can’t reach him with my thoughts—he’s too far away. And you’re right: Look what happened the last time I got in the Voice’s way. It almost finished me for good.”

  An air of despair crept over Kate like a heavy fog. She felt small, powerless, and alone. Glancing at her butterfly ring, she saw that it had continued to deteriorate, despite having lost its luster. Now only a quarter of one wing remained! Soon, she realized, the ring would vanish entirely—and with it would vanish any slim chance she might have ever to see the Earth again.

  “Are you sure you can’t reach your grandfather with your thoughts?” asked Ariella.

  “Even if I could reach him, what would I say?” She fought back her rising tears. “And he’s so far away behind the clouds! Oh, Ariella, what can I do?”

  A small voice spoke from her feet. “You can love him.”

  The words pierced Kate through. “Yes. I love him. And I would give up anything for him. Even my—”

  “No,” interrupted the Nurse Crystal. “We cannot accept your heartlight.”

  Her face fell. “But you said one drop of heartlight on the side of the Voice would tilt the scales. So if I give my heartlight to the side of the True Music before Grandfather—”

  “We cannot accept it.” The Nurse Crystal’s eyes were deeply loving, but her voice was firm. “Your heartlight is your own, and it does not belong to this star. Our laws will not allow us to take it, even to save Trethoniel.”

  “But the Voice will take Grandfather’s heartlight!” objected Kate.

  “The Voice does not live by our laws,” replied the crystal. “And the laws have an essential purpose. The death and new life we will experience if Trethoniel returns to the Pattern will be far better than the endless life the Voice will experience if it does not.”

  Suddenly Kate recalled the mysterious words of the Sage of Sauria: There are two kinds of death for a star, and they are as different as hope is different from despair.

  A painful realization then struck her. “If we somehow stop the Voice, then Trethoniel and its whole system will die, won’t it?”

  The Nurse Crystal’s voice grew smaller, almost as small as Ariella’s. “Yes. Trethoniel will die instantly.”

  “And everything that’s part of it? This planet? You and the other Nurse Crystals, too?”

  “Everything.”

  “But that’s terrible! That means Ariella …”

  “Yes,” the Nurse Crystal answered, in a tone of voice that reminded Kate of the True Music. “All of us will die.”

  “But how can that be good?” she demanded. “This Pattern is crazy! How is that any different from being swallowed up by The Darkness?”

  “It is totally different. The Darkness is the opposite of the Pattern, a creature made of negative energy that has grown as the Voice has grown. The Voice has used it as a tool, but what it does not know is that The Darkness is really part of itself, just as an arm is part of the body that bears it. And The Darkness contains the seeds of the Voice’s ultimate destruction. Today, it is merely a slave; ultimately, it will grow so powerful that it will consume the Voice itself.”

  “So the Voice will finally end up in a big black hole?”

  “No,” corrected the Nurse Crystal. “A black hole still belongs to the Pattern. It may be unfathomably dark and deep, but it is still part of reality. The Darkness, by contrast, is negating reality. A black hole merely transforms heartlight; The Darkness consumes it.”

  “Isn’t there any other way?”

  The crystalline creature looked at Kate remorsefully. “Not in this universe. No, there is no other way. The Pattern is not crazy. It is only very difficult to accept. I cannot live beyond my time, nor can any other being. Not without robbing
something else of life. Not without upsetting the grand balance. I have lived a full and beautiful life.”

  “And I have lived a beautiful life,” said Ariella bravely. “Just not a full one.”

  “Dear child,” spoke her mother as she plucked her gently from the velvet floor. “I pray your story has some chapters yet to be written.”

  The Nurse Crystal turned again to Kate. “You are fast running out of time, if you still wish to try to stop your grandfather. Even as we speak, he is preparing to give his heartlight to the Voice. Gather all of your strength, Kate, then finally decide whether you truly want to risk such grave danger to yourself. No one would ever fault you if you do not.”

  Nervously, Kate tossed her braid over her shoulder. “If the Voice is really stopped, will that bring the Sun back to health?”

  “We can’t be sure. But if the Voice can be stopped before the Pattern is broken, it is possible—just possible—that all the pure condensed light it has stolen could flow back to its natural home, wherever that home may be.”

  “And that would return the Sun to health?”

  “If my guess is correct, yes.”

  Kate drew a deep breath and stood erect. “I’ve got to try. But what can I do?”

  “You can try to speak to your grandfather,” answered the great crystal. “You can try to reach him, to talk with him, to help him hear his own deepest heart.”

  “But he’s so far away! I can’t hear his thoughts at all any more.” Kate raised her troubled eyes to the dense clouds billowing above them.

  “Perhaps you have not listened hard enough,” suggested the Nurse Crystal.

  “All I really want is to be someplace safe with him again,” said Kate wistfully.

  “I hope you will be one day. Right now, all you can do is try to reach him, if you dare.”

  “I don’t know … I don’t know …” Again she felt the sting of doubt and despair.

  Ariella leaped from her mother’s arms and hung in the air, suspended before Kate’s face. She twinkled and gleamed like a miniature star. For an instant Kate wondered whether there could be microscopic worlds and creatures living on Ariella, creatures as small in relation to the crystal as the crystal was to the star.