The Summon Stone

by Ian Irvine

  He told her how everyone had ended up here and what was going on in the outside world. They went the rest of the way at a slower pace and emerged in the tower at the level of the yard. It was dark outside and still snowing gently. There must have been well over a foot of snow in the yard, for the bodies had been reduced to elongated mounds.

  “What time is it?” said Aviel. “I lost track down there.”

  No stars were visible; there was no way to be sure. “Maybe four in the morning.”

  As they squeezed out through the door into the yard, Wilm saw a bright flare of white light up the far end, not far from the workshop.

  “What was that?” said Aviel.

  The light grew brighter and he made out two figures to one side, Shand and Ussarine. The light appeared to be coming from a hoop-shaped woven structure propped between blocks of stone.

  “Looks like he’s trying to make the trial gate,” said Wilm.

  They crept up the sloping yard, keeping to the shadows. Ussarine was on the left side of the hoop, holding it vertical.

  “What do you think?” she said to Shand.

  “Done as much as I can right now,” he said wearily. “We’ll get a fresh start in the morning. With luck we’ll have a working gate by dark.”

  He walked across in front of the hoop, staring at it.

  Suddenly the ground shook, then crimson light fountained up through the stone directly under the hoop. Ussarine yelled and leaped aside. The white light outlining the hoop went pink, then a brilliant red. Shand brandished a fist and it turned white again, but the whiteness only lasted a second before it became red once more. Then, in an instant the hoop became a gate, a whirling tunnel like the one that had taken Karan and Llian to Alcifer.

  “Look out!” roared Shand.

  He turned to run but the gate lifted him off his feet and sucked him through. Ussarine cried out but she could not resist its pull either. They vanished.

  “Did the summon stone do that?” said Wilm.

  “I’d say it opened the gate before Shand was ready, to get rid of him.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “We can’t break the stone by ourselves. We should go to the gate.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “It can hardly be less safe than here.”

  They ran hand in hand for the gate, but it turned white again, bounced them off their feet and faded away, leaving them all alone in one of the most dangerous places in the world.

  “Ah!” gasped Aviel.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Twisted my ankle.”

  Wilm picked her up and this time she made no complaint. “We’ve got to go.”

  He carried her down the yard and through the tower to the front doors of Carcharon. There he stopped, contemplating the steep and icy path. It would be incredibly dangerous in the dark; they would literally have to feel their way. But it was not as dangerous as remaining here.

  “Ready?” said Wilm.

  “No,” said Aviel.

  “Why not?”

  “Wherever Shand’s gone, I don’t think he’ll come back. He’s got Snoat’s army to deal with. It’s up to us now.”

  “But you just said we can’t affect the summon stone.”

  “If the Merdrun come through, it’ll be the end of the world, Wilm.”

  “You’re right. It was Llian’s job to smash the stone but he’s gone. It’s up to us now.”

  “We’ve got to find a way. No one else can.”

  PART FOUR

  SYZYGY

  77

  NOT YOUR FINEST HOUR

  If there was one thing Karan knew about gates, they seldom took you where you wanted to go and usually made things worse.

  Torn away from Llian in the transit, she tumbled through the air, flashed through light and darkness and more light, then plunged into warm deep water. It went up her nose. She gasped, ended up with a mouthful that tasted of sulphur, thrashed and saw the surface a couple of yards above her. The panic eased and she swam up.

  “Llian, Llian?”

  She was in a pool with curving sides, forty yards by twenty, tiled in blue and surrounded by a large expanse of orange and black tessellated tiles. A scalloped roof, unsupported by beams or columns, curved high above.

  Splash!

  “Llian?”

  “Glmpf!”

  His head surfaced ten yards away. Was he in trouble? He kept plunging his head under the water and coming up again, spitting and heaving.

  “Blurrggh!” he gasped. “Gaaah! Yuk!”

  Karan swam to him. “Something the matter?” she said coolly. He had just saved her life but they had a lot of issues to deal with.

  He rubbed the inside of his mouth with his fingers, spat out a mouthful, trod water and eyed her warily.

  “Can’t get the taste of Unick’s leg out of my mouth.”

  “Why did you bite the filthy brute anyway?”

  “Only to stop him killing you.”

  “You’re a bloody idiot,” said Karan.

  “I’ve always thought so,” said Llian.

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “About what?” he said warily.

  Karan wanted to fling herself at him and never let go; she also wanted to whack him. To avoid both temptations she swam away, putting a few yards between them.

  “Let’s see. Voting down the friend you went to Chanthed to help in favour of Snoat’s lackey. Getting yourself framed for murder, then scampering off to live in Snoat’s villa. The processes that go on in your mind beggar belief! Telling Snoat all about the secret of mancery! Then escaping with your girlfriend at the very second we tore Pem-Y-Rum apart to rescue you…” She faltered.

  Llian stared at her. “The burning library, was that you?”

  “With Shand and Lilis, and two others.”

  “Lilis! But—”

  “She’s a grown woman now – and fiercely loyal to you for some odd reason.”

  He managed a smile. “Little Lilis. Is she well?”

  “Very. And we got Tallia out.”

  “Thank you – we looked everywhere for her.” Llian began twisting his fingers back and forth. “Thandiwe hates me, Karan. She’s sworn to do everything in her power to destroy me.”

  Karan sniffed. Six weeks of torment could not be laid aside that easily. Then she noticed Maigraith’s ring again – the ring that, on touching Fiachra’s chain, had formed the gate that had brought them here. It reminded her of her own bad decisions: using hrux on Maigraith, and sending Sulien away with the Whelm. Who was she to judge him when he had always done his best? It was time to mend fences, not pull them down.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she said softly.

  He came closer. “It’s been the worst time of my life, and that’s…”

  “Saying something!” she said fervently.

  “Ever since Sulien’s first nightmare, I’ve felt as though people were queuing up to attack me.”

  He had said a similar thing a long time ago, and suddenly it hit her.

  “They were queuing up. The magiz couldn’t get to you directly because you don’t have a gift for the Secret Art, so she’s been manipu­lating people like Unick and Snoat, and maybe even Thandiwe, to get at you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I… um… saw the magiz boasting about pulling our strings.”

  And all this time Karan had doubted Llian and made light of his problems, thinking only about her own. It was a wonder he had survived at all. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  Llian’s eyes narrowed. “You saw the magiz? When.”

  Oops! “I took some more hrux a week ago. I had to know.”

  He shivered and caught her hand, pulling her through the water towards him.

  “But we’re together again,” said Karan. “That’s what matters.”

  “It’s not all that matters.”

  Karan almost cracked; she only held back the tears by plunging her face
under the water. Llian took her into his arms and they trod water together.

  “It’s been an absolute nightmare,” said Karan.

  “Is Sulien…?”

  He seemed on the verge of saying something important, but stopped as if afraid.

  “I’m afraid to contact her in any way in case…”

  “The magiz attacks her through you?”

  “Or discovers where she is. But I get little moments from time to time. Sendings. Links.”

  “Is she… all right?” said Llian. “Tallia said—”

  “Sulien’s safe, but utterly miserable. The Whelm treat her just like one of their own children – foul food, long hours of hard labour, no kindness.”

  “And daily punishments.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I know what they’re like. But that’s not all, is it?”

  Her arms tightened around his neck, then it exploded out of her. “Idlis keeps saying, ‘You’re one of us now, my little Whelm.’ Sulien is terrified that they’re not going to give her back, and so am I. And I dare not answer her. She must think I don’t care, must think I’ve abandoned her. I can’t bear it!”

  Llian crushed her to him so hard that she lost her breath. Her iron self-control shattered; she howled and heaved and wept a bucket of tears, and did not stop until she realised that her nose was dripping down his back.

  “Sorry!” she said, splashing it off.

  They swam to the side, climbed out onto the warm tiles and lay there. Karan was too emotionally exhausted to sit up.

  “There’s… more,” said Llian.

  “What?”

  “Just before you got to Carcharon, after Wilm and I drove Unick off the first time, I… um… gave in to the drumming.”

  Chills rippled down her back but she tried to make light of it. “You’re still alive, and so is Wilm, so you can’t have done any harm.”

  “I felt a mad delusion that I could destroy the stone with Unick’s Command device. I was about to storm down when… something brought me to my senses. Someone.”

  Her unease deepened. “What? Who?”

  “No, Daddy!” he said in Sulien’s voice.

  Karan lurched to her feet, then dragged him up to face her. “Sulien spoke into your mind?” Her knees shook. “This is bad, Llian. Really bad.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The Merdrun are close to achieving the dream they’ve been working towards for ten thousand years. It’s only weeks away, yet one little thing can stop them. Their secret, fatal weakness, hidden somewhere in Sulien’s subconscious. They’re desperate to find her before we get the secret and ruin their plan.” She gasped for breath. “And when she warned you…”

  Llian had gone white. “You think it may have told them where she is.”

  “I don’t know. But I’m scared. Really scared.”

  “You were right about me and the drumming,” he said bitterly. “I can’t—”

  “Stop that! You’re no more to blame than poor Benie was. The drumming is doing exactly what the enemy intended. Anyway…”

  “What?”

  She had to tell him. “I… I made a terrible mistake, Llian.”

  “Sending Sulien away with the Whelm?”

  “Thus putting the secret beyond our reach. I can’t imagine what I was thinking.”

  “You were trying to protect her,” he said softly. “And Idlis will defend her with his life.”

  “He’s just one man, and I don’t think the other Whelm liked the idea. What if they—?”

  He broke in. “Karan, don’t! We’ve got to focus on what we can do.”

  She swallowed, looked around. “I suppose so. Where are we, anyway?”

  “At a guess, Alcifer. Do you think, if we touched the ring and your chain again, it would take us back?”

  “So you could have a go at destroying the stone?” said Karan.

  “Yes.”

  “No, I don’t. The ring was meant to protect Maigraith, and I think it brought us here because this was the safest place Rulke knew.” She shuddered. “The summon stone is Shand’s job now. If anyone can do it, he can. Who lives here, anyway?”

  “I don’t think anyone does. People have tried to occupy the city from time to time but none lasted long – it’s held to be an unlucky place. And I suspect it was designed to keep people out.”

  “Meaning we could be ejected at any moment.”

  “Not us.” He held up the ring. “I reckon it’s a key to every door in Alcifer.”

  “But you’ve already got a key. ‘Begin in Alcifer,’ Rulke said before he died, and gave you that little silver key.”

  “It’s a different kind of key.”

  “Well, that’s your job now – to find what Rulke knew about the Merdrun and their one fatal weakness.”

  And her job was to protect their daughter. All this time, Karan realised, the magiz had been hurting her to provoke Sulien into revealing where she was. It had failed, but could the magiz locate her through the fleeting link she had made to Llian? It was a troubling thought.

  They wandered the halls and the curving pathways, not talking. Alcifer was unlike any place Karan had ever been. In the first half mile they passed many clusters of slender red or black towers, in groups of three and seven and nine, some only a few levels high but others soaring straight up, without ornamentation, for hundreds of feet.

  And there were domes, some hundreds of yards across and roofed with glass, covering gardens that must have looked after themselves, since they were perfectly ordered. There were sweeping aerial walkways, some in red metal and others in black, running from one cluster of towers to another. There were bowl-shaped lakes set on the tops of towers, and tall, narrow spikes, without windows or stairs, that seemed to have no purpose. Alcifer was beautiful, incomparable, and Karan could not take it in.

  Llian was looking around in wonder and awe, clearly delighted to be here, but the place disturbed her; it felt like yet another threat.

  She remembered a night in the mountains twelve years ago when Llian, dangerously ill with mountain sickness, had told her the great and terrible Tale of Tar Gaarn: the tragedy of Pitlis, the greatest designer and builder of all the Aachim. He had designed Alcifer, a unique and perfect city, on Rulke’s instructions, and Rulke had used it to betray him.

  Alcifer was magnificent, Llian had said that night. A city vain and proud, cruel and predatory, majestic, perfect. So Rulke had made it. But it was also a construct, built for a purpose only he knew.

  She stopped suddenly. “Llian, we’ve got to—”

  “I didn’t have much sleep last night, or the week before that, and I’m so tired I can’t think straight. Let’s start afresh in the morning.”

  Karan looked up. “Isn’t that the pool?”

  All the pathways of Alcifer, local and city-wide, were curved, and they had returned to their starting point. They laid out their food on a little stone table: half a smoked sausage, a slab of dried deer meat, a packet of spicy dried prawns, rather soggy from the pool, two small pieces of cheese, one hard and red, the other yellow and oozing in the warmth. Some pieces of dried gellon, the queen of all fruit, now wet and sticky.

  Llian took his manuscript and journal out of Snoat’s waterproof leather bag, wiped drops of water off the journal cover and wrapped them up again. He ate some sausage, chewing slowly as if he lacked the strength to swallow.

  Karan picked at the cheese. “I’m too tired to eat. Let’s find a place to sleep.”

  They packed the food up and walked around the pool. There were rooms off two sides, though all unfurnished. Further on they came to a small pavilion with a dark green roof held up by six slender columns of silky smooth red jasper.

  Karan hung her damp clothing over a rail and lay on the floor. Llian got down beside her. “This is nice,” she said, snuggling up, and was asleep within a minute.

  She woke to a soft dawn glow. Llian was writing in his journal by the light of a stub of candl
e. She rolled onto her back, watching him. It felt like old times, before Sulien’s first nightmare had changed everything.

  “How long do we have until the invasion?” she asked. She had lost track of time.

  “Two and a half weeks.”

  He told her his story and what he had learned about Mendark’s work, including the scratched writing on the broken slab at Carcharon.

  “We can’t do anything about the stone,” he concluded. “That’s up to Shand now. But we might be able to discover a weakness that can help us fight the Merdrun.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “The Charon fought them for thousands of years; they must know everything about them.”

  “Where are Rulke’s papers?”

  Llian shrugged. “He just told me to begin in Alcifer.”

  “You’d better get started then,” said Karan.

  He slid his belt out of its loops and ran it through his fingers. And froze, staring at the belt’s lower edge.

  “It’s gone!” It was a cry of agony.

  An inch of the stitching had been cut to remove the little key from the secret slit.

  “When did you last check?” said Karan.

  “After Wilm and I buried Dajaes. I remember walking away from the grave and making sure the stitching hadn’t worn through. The hag! The utter cow.”

  “I assume you’re referring to Thandiwe?”

  “Who else could it be? She must have taken it the day she pinched the gold and the horses. I wondered why she wanted three spare horses.”

  “Why did she?”

  “It’s a hell of a ride from the megaliths to here. A hundred and fifty leagues, at least.”

  “Why would she want to come here?”

  “She lost everything when—”

  “You voted Basible Norp Master of the College, instead of her,” said Karan. “Not your finest hour.”

  “You picked a fool, Karan.”

  “I knew that within a minute of meeting you. ‘My name’s Llian. I’ve come to save you,’ you said so very pompously, then fell down the steps and knocked yourself out at my feet.” She giggled.

  “Thandiwe burns for her own Great Tale. She’s been pursuing Mendark’s story, but she must have realised I had secret information about him that could invalidate parts of her tale, so she switched to an even better one – Rulke’s.”