by Diane Duane
Saash promptly hit him.
"Thank you," Rhiow said softly, and kept walking.
"Oh. Well, can I tell the one about the—"
" No," Rhiow said.
Arhu watched this with some bemusement; so did Ith. "Don't get him started," Saash said. "He makes puns. Terrible ones."
"Oh, no," Arhu said. "I wish we were down…"
"But we are," Ith said, sounding a little bemused.
Arhu stared. "He's right."
And so it was. All of them blinked as Arhu ran on down past them and to what seemed, mercifully, a flat area.
Did you see that? Saash said. He wished… and it was so. This place may be a lot more malleable than we thought. But it makes sense. If the laws of wizardry are being changed, if things are in flux down here…
Rhiow swallowed at that thought, and as she came down the last of the steps into the flat area, looked quickly into the workspace in the back of her mind.
A great circle lay there, almost complete— dark patches filling themselves in almost as she watched.
The spell the Whisperer's still working on, she thought. That's what Arhu said.
She stopped, breathed in and out, tried to center herself, and looked around her. They stood at the edge of a broad, dark plain, not smooth; here for the first time there was some sense of texture. Great outcroppings and stanchions of stone, blocks upthrust from the floor, stood all about: a little stone forest. And thrusting up out of the middle of it…
Rhiow had to simply sit down and look from one side to the other, to try to take it all in. Roots… huge roots, each one of which was the size of a skyscraper, an Empire State Building… spreading practically from one side of vision to the other: gnarled, tremendous, brown-barked, reaching up into a single mighty column that towered up and up out of sight. This is what it's like when you try to perceive an archetype, Rhiow thought, looking left toward what would have been a horizon in the real world, and right… and seeing nothing but the massive union of roots, reaching upward, lost in the vast darkness.
It was the Tree: the roots of the Tree, sunk deep in the Mountain… the stone of the Mountain's inmost cavern now rearing up, thrusting up around the separate roots as if trying somehow to bind them. From older trees in the park, Rhiow knew that in any such contest between tree and stone, the tree always won eventually. But here it seemed to have been fought to a draw: the stone seemed to be closing in.
Before it, between them and the Tree, the River of Fire spilled down the last of its steps and out into a broad channel… the final barrier. It looked more like the archetypal River now: inimical, a fire that would burn cold rather than hot, one in which nothing could survive— certainly not memory, maybe not even the passing soul. By the light of that river, Rhiow could make out that something else was wound about the Tree, among the stones, resting on them in some places: a long shining form, dark as everything else was here— but the light of the River caught its scales coldly, glinted black fire back. That form lapped the Tree in coil upon immense coil; the mind wanted to refuse the sight of it. Taking it all in, the trunk of the Tree, the roots of the Tree, the coiled shape, was like trying to take in a whole mountain in a glimpse from up close, as well as the river of fire that wound about its feet, and the other river of darkly glittering light, which wound about it higher up: a river with eyes.
And under the spot where eyes lay brooding in a gigantic skull, where the massive jaw rested, at the top of one mighty root, Rhiow saw a great deep jagged gouge, gnawed into the Tree. The gouge bled pale light, too pale to illumine much. The gouge was deep— perhaps a third of the way through the whole trunk, on that side. And the old, dark, wise, amused eyes looked at them, and smiled.
Rhiow threw an almost panicked glance at Arhu, for it was in his voice that she had first heard the warning. Claw your way to the Root. The Tree totters… And did the trunk have just the slightest leftward slant? As if it were thinking about falling?
What else will fall with it?
They all stood there, in that massive, archaic silence, and looked at those dark eyes. Rhiow felt those eyes on her and felt ineffably ephemeral, helpless, small. Beside her, Saash was staring, silent. Beside her, Arhu looked once, and looked away as if burned. Ith— Ith crouched down to the stony ground in what even to Rhiow was plainly a gesture of reverence.
It was not entirely misplaced, Rhiow knew. She took a step forward, sat down, curled her tail about her feet, looked the Old Serpent in the eye, though she trembled all over, and said as clearly as she could, "Eldest, Fairest, and Fallen… greeting; and defiance."
Things began to shake. A long rumble, a roar, as of many voices, fading away… laughter. A long soft laugh, fading, as if the earthquake laughed.
Rhiow saw Arhu shudder all over at the sound. She was not in much better state herself. She was going to have to cope, though. Off to one side she caught a movement. Urruah, heading for the River—
She opened her mouth to shout at him to stop— and found herself muzzled: those dark eyes were concentrating particularly on her, and the pressure made speech impossible for the moment. But Urruah kept going. He would probably have ignored me anyway. Urruah!!
Straight out over the deadly River he went, as casually as if he were walking across Seventy-eighth Street, heading for his Dumpster. He passed the River, unhurt, though Rhiow thought she caught a scent of scorching fur. Urruah sauntered slowly over to the nearest root of the Tree where it sank among the tumbled stones, a massive gnarled pillar, and looked it over; then reared up on his hind legs, and began, thoughtfully, insolently, to sharpen his claws on it.
Rhiow stared at him open-jawed, filled with disbelief, indignation, and a kind of crooked admiration. She had leisure to indulge herself in the feelings, for Urruah didn't hurry any more than he might have rushed himself while working on some badly fenced-in sapling on a city street. Finally Urruah was done. He dropped to all fours again and strolled back over the river, back to the team: a tom finished marking just one more piece of territory.
Only you would pull a stunt like that, Rhiow said to him as he came.
Possibly that's why I'm here, he said, and smiled, then turned back to face their enemy. But sometimes you can be a little too formal. If we're going to play hauissh… let's play hauissh.
I'm surprised you didn't spray it, Saash said.
Hey, yeah, I forgot. He started to get up, and Rhiow put a big heavy paw down on his tail, without the claws… for the moment. Urruah looked over his shoulder at her, then grinned and sat down again.
Is it the Fight? Arhu said silently. The one you and Yafh were showing me?
If not the original, Urruah said, close enough. Keep your tactics in mind. Find your position and don't be moved off it. Half of a good fight is bluff, so yell as loud as you can, break your throat if you have to: it heals faster than broken claws. Don't waste your time with ears: no one breathes through their ears. Throats are the target—
What is this, the pregame show? Rhiow said silently, annoyed, but still amused. How am I supposed to make a mission statement with this going on? Save it for later.
She stood up. "Well, Lone One," she said, "you've been working on something a little less obvious down here, it seems. Often enough You've tried striking directly at individual wizards, with mixed results at best. But here, now, obviously it's suited You to strike at the Gates by undermining the Tree, and enslaving the poor saurians down here, that You tricked so long ago. Well, the Queen has noticed You… and She and the Powers have a little surprise for You as a result. The first saurian wizard…"
That laughter, like the earthquake, rumbled again. And when it faded to silence, a voice spoke.
"There is another?" It said, amused.
From out of the shadows stepped a tall shape. Arhu looked up and growled in his throat.
It was a tyrannosaur: slate-blue, striped gaudily in red. It looked down at them all with an expression that stretched into a mocking grin, and flexed all its twelve claw
s.
"You again," Arhu said.
"You're a bit older than when I saw you last," said the tyrannosaur… in the Speech. "But you won't get much older than you are now,… never fear."
"This is the one I saw the first night," Arhu said. "After the rats."
"Haath," Rhiow said. "The Great One's 'sixth claw.' "
"Feline mammal," Haath said, and grinned at her in her turn. "I will not say 'well met on the errand'; it will not be so, for you."
Rhiow's heart sank. Surprise, she thought, furious with herself for being so blind, for the Lone Power had been way ahead of her. Here, in the heart of this place where the structure of wizardry itself was being deranged and perverted, It had been able to cause wizardry to present itself to a saurian of Its choice, without involving any of the other Powers That Be. It had taught the wizard everything It wanted him to know, and pushed him through an Ordeal that had probably been a parody of the real thing, but real enough to produce the result: a wizard who walked the entropic side, who killed casually or for pleasure, who changed the life around him without reason, who knew nothing of preservation or slowing down the heat-death… who probably knew nothing but his Master's will. At the mere thought of such perversion of the Art, Rhiow hissed and spat, fluffing up.
"Now now," said Haath, much amused, "bad kitty," and swept a claw at her.
Rhiow said the word that would activate the shield-spell she had been carrying— and the bolt that caught her struck straight through the shield and threw her on her back, burning in her bones so that she could do little but lie on the ground and writhe in pain. "Indeed," Haath said, "you see that my Lord has taught me well. He wrested the power for me from those who would have kept it jealously for themselves and their chosen puppets. I am his chosen one, His Sixth Claw. And as for this—" He looked scornfully at Ith. "He knows his master in me. He has no power. I have passed my Ordeal: he barely knows what his was supposed to be. Not that he will have a chance to find out. I am my People's wizard. There will be no other."
The pain was wearing off enough now for Rhiow to stagger to her feet again, licking her nose. This is why Ith was sent to us, she thought. And Arhu to him… to prepare him for this competition. This is his opposite number. There's always someone else to argue the opposite side of a Choice, for no Choice would be valid without it.
"This is a kinship of individuals!" Rhiow shouted, putting her shield back in place. "Not a monopoly! Not a tyranny of power! There's always room for more wizards."
"Not in this world," Haath said, "and not in the new world to be, which we will bring. There will shortly be something new under the Sun."
Ith was still crouched on the black floor, head down, foreclaws clenched on the stone, as if unable to stand, even, let alone to make any Choice for his whole people. Do something, Rhiow whispered into his mind. Do something! Try!
But he could not hear her. All he could hear was Haath, that voice curling into his brain and shutting everything else out, shutting him away from his power.
"And why should he hear anything else?" Haath said, stepping closer, leaning over Ith and grinning dreadfully. "I am his Lord, I am his Leader! I would have brought him up into the light, into the Sun, in my good time… but now it is too late. Coming down here in company with you, he has enacted rebellion. It is too late for him: none of our people are allowed to do such a thing. He must suffer the fate that he has brought upon himself, and later, his name and his fate will be used to frighten hatchlings. His hide will be hung from some high spot, to show what happens to those who defy the Great One's will." He bowed to the mountainous shape coiled around the trunk of the Tree.
Rhiow, her tail lashing, looked at Haath, then turned away, turned her attention back toward the freezing cold eyes in that beautiful, gleaming-dark head. "Fairest and Fallen," she said, "Lone Power, Old Serpent, and sa'Rráhh among our People: from the Powers That Be, and from the One, I bring you this word. Leave this place and this universe, or be displaced by force."
It simply looked at her, not even bothering to laugh now. Rhiow stood her ground, and tried not to look as if she were bluffing. She knew of no wizardry sufficient to move the Lone One from a place it had invested in such power.
I know a spell, Saash said.
I would prefer not destroying a whole species if we can avoid it! Rhiow said.
If we can avoid it. But there are a couple of other possibilities I want to explore.
You do that. Meanwhile— Ith! Rhiow said silently. Ith! Get off your tail and do something! This is your chance— stand up and tell him so! You have power— try to use it!
He is the Lord of our people, Ith said with great difficulty. Till now, I never saw him, but— now— I thought that perhaps, but— his power— it is too great, I cannot—
Rhiow's hackles rose. I'd hoped Arhu would have him ready for whatever he has to do, she thought. But he's not going to rise to the occasion. I'm just going to have to lead by example.
She took a stride forward, opened her mouth to speak—
"All right," Arhu said, walking forward stifflegged. "That's enough. You think I don't feel you in his head, hurting him? Taking his thoughts away? He can't stop you, but I think I can. Get out of his head, Haath! I remember when you tried to do that to me. I couldn't stop you myself, lizard-face, not the first time; when you found you couldn't completely fry my brains, you sent in the rats to get rid of me the easy way. But it didn't work." He was stalking closer, lips wrinkled back, fangs showing. "And when the gates opened, and you showed up on my turf, I showed you a little something. I've killed you before. I'll do it again, and I'll keep on doing it until I get it right."
"You will never get it right," Haath said, backing just a little, starting to circle. "I can never die. It is my Gift from the Great One."
"Yeah, I bet it is," Arhu said. "He's just full of little presents, isn't He? Let's find out how yours stands up to a little wear and tear."
He launched himself at Haath.
Down they went together, kicking and rolling. Rhiow was surprised to see nothing more wizardly being used at first, but a second later she thought she knew why: there was a spell-damper all around Haath— not quite a shield, but a place where spells would not work… and Haath had not counted on Arhu wanting to go paw-to-claw with him. Arhu, though, had probably known: the Eye had its uses. And he may have seen something else as well: something Rhiow saw only now, when she turned—
—Saash crouching down by the catenary, leaning down over the "bank"… and dabbling one paw down into the ravening white fire.
What in Iau's name are you—!
Don't ask, It'll hear, Saash said. Here goes nothing—
Abruptly the white flame running in the conduit streaked up her paw and downreaching foreleg, up around her— not quite running over her hide, but a scant inch above it. Saash was shielded, but the kind of shield she was generating at the moment made Rhiow's look like wet tissue paper by comparison; to judge by the behavior of that white fire, now flowing up and around her more and more quickly, she had a second shield above it, holding it in place, holding it in. Swiftly, almost between one breath and the next, Saash became a shape completely sheathed in burning white: a statue, a library lion with her head up, watching, with one paw hanging down into the catenary, the whiteness of the fire around her growing more intense with every breath. A conduit, Rhiow thought in mixed admiration and horror— and fear. Or a storage battery… or both. How long can she— oh, Saash, don't—
Saash stood up and began slowly, silently, to walk toward where Arhu and Haath were fighting; very carefully she went, like an ehhif carrying a full cup or bucket, intent on not spilling any of the contents. Haath and Arhu were up on their hind legs now, boxing at one another; as Saash paused, Arhu threw himself at Haath again, hard, and took him down, going for the throat, missing. Behind them, very quickly, Saash moved forward in one smooth rush—
"Saash, no!" Arhu screamed. Haath rolled out from underneath Arhu, scrambled to hi
s hind legs, and made a flinging motion at Saash with one claw.
The spell he threw hit her, and her shields collapsed.
"Saash!" Rhiow roared. The white-burning form writhed, leapt in the air, shrieked terribly once—
—and fell. The fire went out, except for small blue tongues of it that danced over what remained for a few seconds. What remained was no longer tortoiseshell, but black, thin, twisted, charred: legs and head burnt to stumps, the head—
Urruah ran to her. Haath straightened, smiled slowly at Rhiow, and then at Arhu. "Nothing," Haath said, "literally."
At the sight of what had become of Saash, Arhu roared, a roar that was almost a scream, and threw himself at the saurian again. He was big and strong in this form, and he had the advantage of knowing what his enemy was about to do before he did it. But every time Arhu tore Haash, the tear healed: every bite sealed over. The best Arhu could achieve was a stalemate, while trying to keep his enemy's teeth out of his own flesh. He was not always succeeding.
Nearby, Urruah bent over Saash's body, touched it with a paw, then left it and began circling toward Arhu and Haath. Half-crippled with rage and a new grief, with the memory of the last look in Saash's eyes, seen through the fire as she leapt up, Rhiow joined Urruah and started to circle in from the other side. The thought of wizardry was not much with her at the moment. Blood was what she wanted to taste: that foul thin pinkish stuff that saurians used. One of them might not be enough to take Haath down, but weren't they a pride? Three may be enough—
Haath, though, was laughing. With one eye he was watching Arhu, keeping him at bay with those slashing claws; and he too circled, watching first Rhiow, then Urruah as they came.
