by Shannah Jay
Quedras scowled at her for a moment or two, then looked away and slashed viciously at a rock with his stick. 'No! I'm not a farmer! Besides, we don't often go to Quequere without being invited - except in emergencies. It's too uncomfortable. We wait until we're summoned. And what would Quequere know of digging in the mud?' The stick broke in two under the violence of his blows and he cast it from him, still muttering. 'Go and consult Quequere, indeed! Where would we be if we went up into the Quoin every other minute? I'll tell you where, you crrazy woman. We'd be old before our time, that's what'd happen! We'd be shivering at every shadow, cowering in corners, that's what!'
'I thought Quequere watched over you. I thought you were Quequere's people.'
'Quequere does! We are! But that's not to say that we enjoy the audiences with Quequere. It's like - it's like
- well, we need the sun, don't we, but if we stand looking up at it, our eyes hurt!' He shook his head, turned and left Herra on her own. She stood there for a while, thoughtful, her eyes hooded. No one approached her after he left until her expression changed back to her usual relaxed smile.
A few days later, thunder boomed from inside the Quoin. People froze where they were, exclaiming in shock and exchanging worried glances. The thunder boomed again, so close that it seemed to be coming from directly over their heads. A sigh went up from the whole group and they turned to look at Quedras.
His expression was grim. 'Quequere calls,' he said quietly, then repeated it and added loudly, 'I hear you, Quequere.'
He went to the back of the cave and started to climb the stone steps which wound upwards around the walls of the main cavern. These led up into the heart of the Quoin, to the hidden place where Quequere lived, watching over the community. People had avoided the steps all winter, behaving as if they didn’t exist. Even small children made no attempt to approach them. Once Quedras had started to climb up them, however, no one looked anywhere else. They stood and watched in silence as he disappeared upwards into the dimness and then, they stood waiting in the same silence until the echo of footsteps announced his return.
He stood above them on the steps and raised his hands for attention. 'Quequere's Summons. This Voice of Quequere is nearing the end of its life.'
There was a frisson of fear, as tangible as a breeze, and the words 'Quequere's Summons' were whispered to and fro. People hugged their children to them and reached out to grasp each other's hands.
'Come up! Answer the Summons!' called Quedras loudly, and the people moved forward obediently, for all their fear.
'What is it?' Herra whispered to the person next to her. 'What's happening?'
Quall answered her very quietly so that she had to strain to catch his words. 'This Voice of Quequere is very ancient. Its body must be nearing the end of its natural life. Another body will be needed. All must present themselves for selection, your squad as well. Every single one of us. Then Quequere will choose. This Voice was chosen when I was small. None has been needed since, but we've not forgotten our duty. Long ago, Quequere carved out the caves which save our lives every winter. Quequere watches over us, warns us of danger, protects us from the deleff. And this is the way we repay Quequere.'
'I don't quite understand.'
'Quequere has no body and must borrow one of ours. Whoever is chosen will give Quequere their body for as long as it is required. No one wants to be chosen, but everyone is willing to do that duty if called.' He shivered at the thought, but continued to move towards the stairs.
Herra frowned. Would her Brother the God allow one of them to be taken? Impossible! There were few enough of them to continue the Quest as it was. No, surely he wouldn’t allow one of the Kindred to be taken away!
Quall turned and jerked his head. 'Come on! Quequere is waiting.'
The Kindred all looked at Herra, who shrugged and followed Quall.
'What about the guards for the entrance?' she asked, as she waited in line to climb the steps.
The woman next to her snorted in amusement. 'Who'd ever risk making a raid when Quequere has called?
Even the Rimrascals know what the sacred thunder means and they head in the opposite direction whenever they hear it. This is the one time when we need no guards.'
The steps led upwards for a long way, circling the wall of the huge main cavern. Eyes grew accustomed to the dimness long before the top was reached. Where the soft glow came from was impossible to tell, but there was always enough light for people to find their way.
At the top, an entrance with massive white marble doors led into an oval cavern so regularly formed that it couldn’t have been created naturally. Around it were tiers of shelf-like seating which could have accommodated twice their number. In the well of the amphitheatre was a raised dais, a square of white marble, polished to a high gloss and showing gleaming threads of gold. The rest of the rock in the cavern was a uniform grey, polished to smoothness, but dull in contrast to that great white stone.
Each squad sat together, and Herra could see that everyone was tense, full of a fear barely kept in control.
Even she felt ill at ease. The babies were mouse-still, as were all the children, taking their cues from the adults or perhaps sensing something in the atmosphere of the cavern. Carryn's little Lerina lay close to her breast like a carved doll. Erlic and Alaran were huddled in their parents' arms, but Erlic was staring around him in a way that made Herra shiver. Usually when he looked like that, she could sense the deleff hovering, but this time there was no sign of them.
The unseen illumination began to increase until the cavern was more clearly lit, then the doors slowly closed of their own accord. There came a long, rolling thunderclap, followed by a flash of lightning whose bolt circled twice round the rocky chamber. They were all temporarily blinded, and when their eyes grew clear again, there was a huddled figure sprawled across the white rock.
' Quequere calls. ' A rasping voice echoed round the chamber, but it didn’t come from the figure on the rock.
'Quequere's people answer,' replied Quedras loudly.
' Quequere calls twice. '
'Quequere's people stand ready to serve.'
' Quequere calls thrice. '
Everyone in the chamber, except for the Kindred, chorused, 'We hear you, Quequere.'
Again the thunder boomed and the lightning flashed, but this time it continued to zip around the amphitheatre, lighting up faces and bodies that were frozen in their places as if in stasis. Even Herra couldn’t move, though she retained enough consciousness to register every detail of what was happening.
The lightning slowed down, but a kind of flickering halo still hovered over the group of Kindred.
No, Herra pleaded inside her head. Ah, Brother, no! We're too few to be able to spare anyone. Please, whoever you are, whatever you are, please, Quequere, leave us alone!
The flickering light isolated them from the rest of the community, who sighed in relief and closed their eyes. The Kindred seemed to be wrapped in a cloud of living light, which pulsated and throbbed around them.
' Quequere chooses! ' the disembodied voice intoned the words, and an echo was born, which repeated the word 'chooses' until the cavern was filled with the sound.
Another sigh came from the community.
Herra tried desperately to move and found herself helpless.
The light coalesced around one of their group, but Herra's eyes were so dazzled she couldn’t at first see who it was. Brother, save us!' she prayed, over and over.
Suddenly, everything became clear again and Herra saw that the light had woven itself around Fiana like a living nimbus. Fiana wore a dazed look on her face, which was turned towards the dais. A sob formed in Herra's throat, but she was unable to utter it.
Like an automaton, Fiana rose and began to move in slow motion down the tiers of rock towards the white dais. The light seemed almost to carry her along on a cushion of brilliance. No one in the chamber moved. Herra wondered if she was the only one able to turn her head slightly an
d follow Fiana's progress.
Her companions remained as still as statues. But the head movement was all that even Herra was capable of, that and the release of a couple of tears which seemed to have enough life of their own to roll down her cheeks.
Fiana arrived at the dais and the thunder boomed again. The lightning flashed and when it died down, Herra saw that Fiana had lain down on the gleaming white surface beside the crumpled figure. A final flash of coruscating light and the rock was empty. Only then did Herra find herself able to move, but by then she’d lost the desire to do so. She could only sit staring at the shining square of bare white rock, tears in her eyes.
Why? she asked her Brother. 'Why?'
' It was needed,' came the answer.
Herra stared around, seeking the source of that quiet voice. Had she only imagined the response, or had her Brother really answered her? ' It was needed, Herra. But I'm not your Brother. I am Quequere.'
She sagged back against the rocky ledge, her disappointment intense.
' We shall speak again later, Elder Sister. And fear not - you shall be reunited with your sister again before you leave this cycle of life. '
'Herra? Herra, are you all right?'
She looked up to find Davred leaning over her and she reached out instinctively to clasp his hand, which was warm and comforting. Her own hand was trembling. 'Yes. Yes, I'm all right now, Davred.'
'It took Fiana.'
'Yes.'
'Everyone's leaving. I think we'd better go too.'
'Yes.' She allowed him to help her up and to keep hold of her arm, for she felt quite disoriented, a different sort of disorientation to that caused by communication with the deleff. What was Quequere?
Not until they were back in the main cavern did anyone speak, then Quedras came over to Herra and bowed. 'Your squad has been honoured. All your debts to the community are paid manyfold. Quequere has a Voice again.'
'What's happened to Fiana, Quedras?' asked Herra. 'When will we be able to see her again?'
He shrugged. 'Not for a while, that's for sure. Later on, Quequere may grant you an audience. Who knows when that will be?'
'I don't really understand what happened. Can you explain it to us?'
'No one understands it well. But it seems that Quequere needs a body and from time to time uses the Voice to speak to us, to warn us of danger or guide us through difficulties. Were it not for Quequere's help and the use of these caverns, there would be no community. We show our gratitude for that by providing a body when Quequere needs a new Voice.'
'You already explained that. What I need to know is when Fiana will return. Surely she won't have to spend the rest of her life serving Quequere?'
'We never know. Some serve a year or two, some a decade, others a lifetime.' He coughed and fidgeted, then asked with a voice roughened by sympathy, 'Er - had she been badly hurt by something? I mean, hurt in the - the spirit?'
Herra was surprised. 'Yes. Very badly.' This Sister had suffered greatly at the hands of Sen-Sether, surely the most evil of Those of the Serpent and had been forced to make sacrifice in the Shrine of the Serpent, the only Sister ever to do so. Others had killed themselves rather than deal with the Serpent. Fiana had not had that choice, because other’s lives depended on her.
Quedras nodded. 'Quequere is kind! The Chosen One is frequently a person filled with inner anguish. If that person is allowed to return, then healing will have taken place. The last one stayed with Quequere a lifetime. He had lost his reason after a fever. Quequere called before we could kill him; he was chosen and he never returned.' Quedras looked at Herra with something like triumph in his eyes and added, 'So now you will have to stay here! Now your lost friend binds you to us and you cannot leave!'
She bowed her head and let the God speak through her, for this was a most crucial decision. And the knowledge came to her with utter certainty. 'No, Quedras. Nothing can stop our Quest. If there were only one of us left, then that person would still continue. We'll have to leave Fiana here with you, and hope that one day she'll be able to follow us.'
He scowled at her. 'And this is the way your people care for a comrade?'
She raised a tear-stained face to his and he couldn’t doubt her sorrow. 'This is only one of the many sacrifices the God our Brother has asked of us, and will continue to ask. And each sacrifice, each pain, each trouble overcome, will make us stronger, until one day, Quedras, one day we shall end Discord and set our people's feet back upon the Path of Wisdom.' Her voice rang out clearly and her eyes burned with that other fire, like lambent gold.
He took an involuntary step backwards, awed by the look on her face, the alien tone in her voice.
Cheral, standing nearby, hadn’t hesitated to listen to their exchanges. Memorising what Herra was saying even as the Elder Sister spoke the words, Cheral added this prophecy to the great store of knowledge she carried. One day, she would find paper and set down these words for Kinspeople not yet born to profit from.
Until then, she prayed that her Brother would continue to enhance her memory, so that she might hold the words accurately within her.
There was no singing in the caves that night and the Kindred didn’t even try to gather. Even the babies were quiet and soon fell asleep. It was as if Quequere had drained everyone of energy.
CHAPTER 16 THE HIGH ROCKS
The whole community was subdued for several days after Quequere's Summons, but a break in the weather and the return of some warmth to the early spring sunlight seemed to stir their spirits and fill them with restless energy. People who had been patient in their cramped conditions throughout the winter suddenly became impatient. Children quarrelled, ran in and out, and were scolded for coming inside with muddy feet.
Adults snapped at each other and spent nearly as much time as the children going to the cavern entrance to monitor the thaw's progress. Earnest discussions were held about how soon the community would be able to move out of the Quoin and wagers were made as to the actual day of departure.
As the snow began to melt, the sound of dripping water seemed to echo everywhere in the cavern. Outside there was the louder sound of rushing, gurgling water and the intermittent whining of a capricious wind that tossed flurries of rain at the Quoin before whirling it away to drench the snow on the valley floor. In places, the dark earth was starting to show through the whiteness.
Preparations were set in train for leaving the Quoin and returning to the valley. Each squad began to check its equipment and to pack its possessions. Quedras's voice, loudest of all, punctuated the day, but his quarrels with Querilla declined in number, much to everyone's relief, for the two of them had been even more touchy than usual this winter.
'Not long now,' Quedras told Herra one morning, as he gazed hungrily down at the valleys below them.
'As soon as the ground is clear down there, we'll leave.'
Herra nodded, paused for a moment, then said firmly, 'I'll need to speak to Fiana before I leave. I shan't feel easy until I know she's all right.'
He growled in his throat. 'You won't be able to speak to Fiana. She’s not there any more. I've told you and told you, crrazy woman, that it's Quequere who has her body now. I shouldn't think you'll be able to see her, either. Mostly, we just hear the Voice. And anyway, Quequere doesn't allow audiences unless there's grreat need.'
'There is great need. Besides, Quequere allowed you to seek help for Querilla of your own accord. That's why you were out near the desert when I reached the Rims. I'm sure I'll be allowed to speak to Quequere about Fiana.'
He shrugged. 'I doubt it. And I had to be desperate, to risk making an approach uninvited. I was lucky that Quequere allowed me to ask for help. Some have been thrown back down the stairs. Who can ever tell what Quequere will do?'
'In that case, you'll have no objection to my seeking an audience, will you, since it'll be up to Quequere whether I gain it or not?' She smiled and walked away before he could protest any further. He was left to share his scowls between t
he valley and her erect back, and to mutter to himself about 'crrazy old women who won't listen to rreason'.
A little later, Herra joined Cheral in the storeroom. She waited until there was a lull in the activity and then asked quietly, 'Can you prepare us some packs of provisions and trekking equipment, in case we have to leave suddenly?'
Cheral raised her eyebrows, then shrugged and nodded. 'When are you thinking of setting off, Herra?
Don't you think the babies are still rather young to travel? Lerina's barely three months old.'
'I know.' Herra grinned suddenly. 'Whoever heard of going on a quest with three small babies?'
'Let's hope the babies survive it all!'
Herra's smile faded. 'What choice do we have, Cheral? We must make a start as soon as winter ends, so that we'll have time to get across the mountains before next year's snows. I can't tell you exactly when we'll be leaving, but I think it'll probably be soon, within a few days. And - I think we'll have to leave rather suddenly.
Quedras intends to keep us here.'
'There are worse places to live.'
'Yes. But our Brother calls.'
Cheral sighed. 'I wouldn’t deny him. You know that, Herra.'
Herra patted her arm. 'I know. One day you'll return to a stable life in Temple Tenebrak, Cheral.'
'Will I?'
'Yes.'
'And you?'
'No.'
Now it was Cheral's turn to hug her friend.
'I intend to speak to Quequere before we leave,' said Herra as they drew apart. 'We must be absolutely sure that Fiana is going to be all right.'
