"No more than has already been done," Firekeeper promised.
So Blind Seer stepped forward and shouldered the jaguar a few steps back from the blackened block of silver. Truth did not resist. Perhaps she sensed that the wolf was trying to help her. Firekeeper was glad. A fight between the pair would have been ugly indeed. As soon as she could, Firekeeper slid herself into the narrow space between Blind Seer and the wall.
Deftly, she unbound the blood-sodden rag from about her thigh. It was damp enough to dapple droplets onto the floor, and make the knot hard to untie.
Once Firekeeper had the cloth free, she rubbed the bloody thing against the tarnished silver block. Almost instantly there was a transformation. The blackened metal soaked up the wet blood, seeming to drink it.
Where the rag touched the block it left behind a surface that was not only shining, but rapidly becoming transparent. Then it was not there at all.
A breeze moved the air in the enclosed chamber, carrying with it a form as tenuous as moonlight. It leapt over Blind Seer, and sank into Truth. The jaguar trembled from head to tail, stiffened, then crumpled onto the floor as if her paws could not bear the added weight of her soul.
Firekeeper felt the air around her eddy, then still. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that the opening had closed once more. Only a shining square of silver remained, twisting the reflection of her worried frown into a mocking leer.
As BODY AND SOUL REJOINED, Truth fell into darkness, and in that darkness the mocking-voiced one waited. Yet there was no mockery in his voice now, only a dreadful sincerity that commanded her full attention.
"They are going to ask you about this place," the voice said. 'Tell them what you know."
"I know nothing," Truth said, sulkily. "Who are you?"
"A friend," the other replied. "Haven't I proved it? All I ask is for you to remember what I did for you - consider that later."
"Later?"
"Trust me. You'll know exactly what I mean."
"You ask for a great deal of trust."
"I led you out, didn't I?"
Truth felt her body around her, aware of heartbeat and breath as never before, and was forced to agree.
"Remember," the voice said. "And now, I will let you awaken. Until we meet again, Truth."
"Again?"
"Surely you know all things are possible, O gifted one." The mockery had returned to the voice. "And the omens favor some things more than others."
Truth sensed that the source of the voice was gone. In another breath, she smelled - really smelled - others around her. There were sounds - real sounds - and she knew them for voices. She opened her outer lids, and the light was not too bright.
Opening her inner lids, she pushed up to rest on her paws and breastbone, aware how limp and sore her muscles were, but then - images from her body's memory flooded her mind - she had hardly moved for days now.
"I'm thirsty," she rasped.
PLIK HARDLY KNEW whether he was relieved or not. when Firekeeper emerged from the dark rooms behind the silver door, the limp body of Truth hanging heavily in her arms. For a moment, he thought the jaguar was dead, even though his nose caught none of the staleness of death.
When Truth awoke, and even spoke and drank, Plik felt y and relief, but no abatement in his confusion. Blind Seer's account as to how Truth's spirit had apparently come forth from a silver block did not help much. Plik pressed back confusion by concentrating on immediate problems.
"Can someone," Plik said, "tell me what is behind that silver door other than a room with a silver block set in the wall?"
Firekeeper still stood in the doorway, obviously determined that the silver door would not slam shut without warning.
"We did not see much," the wolf-woman said, "for our attention was on Truth, but the door seems to open into a suite or apartment. I think we might risk another, closer look. Blind Seer and I neither saw nor smelled any stranger."
She looked at Truth for confirmation.
"I think exploring should be safe," the jaguar said, "but let us make certain someone stays to hold the doorway. It does not like being open - and I think opening it again will be difficult, at least until the moon is right."
That reminded Plik of another question. "Firekeeper, what made you think of using blood to finish the opening ritual?"
Firekeeper's dark eyes were troubled. "Remember last year? What Shivadtmon did? What Dantarahma is said to have done? These involved blood, so I thought..."
She shrugged, and obviously did not wish to say more. Knowing her aversion to magic - indeed, sharing it after what he had seen - Plik did not press her further, though every part of him wanted to argue with her rather than be in sympathy. Instead, he looked at the jaguar.
"Truth, how did you come here? I cannot believe it was mere chance."
The jaguar lifted her head. "I was guided here, and before you ask, I have no idea who that guide was, nor for what purpose he took pity on me."
"He?" Firekeeper asked, her husky tones focused and fierce. "Then you saw him?"
"Never," Truth replied. "I heard him - a voice, sweet but mocking. He had the arrogance of an eagle screeching contempt at the land-bound."
Plik heard Rascal - safely above the trench - add, "Or a jaguar in her Year."
Truth did not hear, or if she did she did not choose to comment. "That voice was the one solid thing in ... Do not make me remember where I was when I first heard it. I admit, I am afraid of being drawn back. There was a voice. It called me to it. I followed and found myself in this place, but locked behind the silver block. The voice's owner did not bring me through, but told me that there was a door, and if that door was opened I would be united with myself again."
"And did he name me as the door opener?" Firekeeper asked.
"He might have," Truth said. "Yes. He did. I do not recall asking for you, but I suppose I must have done so, for you are here, and I am free."
Blind Seer growled. Plik thought he did not envy the owner of the voice that had spoken to Truth - no matter who he was or what power he might wield. This voice had earned Blind Seer's enmity, and the blue-eyed wolf would be a deadly opponent.
Something you should remember, Plik reminded himself.
"Could this place be a tomb?" Truth said, so hesitantly that Plik could hardly believe it was the jaguar who spoke. "I remember a little of when it spoke to me. I thought I might be dead and a ghost, and that the Voice was another ghost." 'Tomb?" Firekeeper said. "I know graves, but tombs?" "Those who came here from the Old Country some-ties built houses for their dead," Powerful Tenderness explained. "The tradition is not common anymore, for it Ices much labor, and the modern Liglimom celebrate the living, and remember the dead in their traditional lore, not by sacrifices. I am surprised that those of the Gild-crest lands do not build tombs, for I believe Derian Carter said they worship their ancestors."
"I know little enough about that," Firekeeper said. "They do give them grave offerings, but I don't believe they build them houses. I think the shrines within the homes of the living serve that role."
Blind Seer sniffed at the darkness behind the silver door. "Tomb or something else, we will not know unless we go and look. Who goes with us?"
"I would like to inspect that suite," Plik said. "It and the root cellar into which Rascal fell seem to be the only traces left of what once stood here - and of whoever lured Truth to this place. I see a faint glow. Is there light within?"
"Some, farther in, in rooms to the back," Firekeeper said. "It is the old kind - the glowing blocks, but so dim at it carries not very far. A lantern might be useful - even though your night vision is good. I think you might find things to read."
So there was a delay while lanterns were brought from e camp. Then Firekeeper offered to carry Truth up to a more comfortable place than the trench before the door, but the Wise Jaguar refused.
"I am too weak to walk with you," she said, "but my hearing is very good, and I can follow what happens from h
ere."
"And I," Powerful Tenderness said, suiting action to words, "will be the doorstop. Even if some force beyond what is natural tries to close this door, I think I am strong enough to stop it - at least long enough for you to get out."
Firekeeper looked at Plik. "Blind Seer and I will go with you. Between us three, we should find all there is to find."
Young Rascal did not even ask to cross over the threshold now that he knew his pack mates were safe. Indeed, he seemed quite relieved when Blind Seer set him as sentry above the trench.
The wolves entered first, then Plik, holding the lantern. He had the wick turned low, so as to not spoil his own night vision, and was resolved not to turn it up unless needed. Fire and enclosed spaces were not a good combination.
The dull yellow-red glow provided enough light for Plik to see that he stood in a small entry foyer. Only one at a time might pass through this space, and he wondered at that.
His bare feet touched the rough tiles set in the entry-way. When he looked above, he saw an odd "candelabrum," set with quartz crystals where wax candles should have been.
A sorcerer's light, then, but one from which the power was long gone. Plik wondered at this, too, but passed on, hoping for clarification in the larger rooms.
'There are four chambers," Firekeeper said as Plik came out of the entryway. "One seems to be for sleeping. The other three..."
She shrugged, and Plik was reminded that in the ways of humans Firekeeper might know less than he did for all she looked so much like a human. Certainly, he knew more of the customs of the Liglimom.
"No cooking place?" he asked. "No place to wash? Is there any place that smells as if a body is enshrined there?"
Blind Seer padded in. "One chamber does have fresh water flowing through it. Another chamber holds a faint scent as of food and fire, but there are none of the pots and kettles humans seem to need to make their food. No body, but then bones have little smell once they are dry. It is a very odd place."
Plik had to agree, and the oddity of the place increased when he had made his own quick tour. He did not think the place had been a tomb. There was no urn nor coffin, no sarcophagus nor niche. No statues, paintings, or other aids to remembering the deeds of the deceased as one would expect. He supposed the place must have been an apartment, but if so, it was the strangest he had ever imagined.
The water chamber could have served for bathing and elimination, but other than a large bowl carved from blue-grey slate it lacked the usual fixtures. There was an iron brazier in another chamber, but rather than coals it held chunks of dark reddish stone - another quartz, he thought.
Fire had been made here, but as with the light in the entryway, it had not been a natural fire. Whoever had dwelled in - or had been imprisoned in - this place had been a sorcerer then, and a sorcerer of no mean power if he, or she, had used magic to supply light and heat and possibly, for not even the wolves' keen noses found any larders, food and wine.
Was this a sorcerer's retreat then? Or perhaps a sorcerer's prison?
Plik shared some of his conjectures with his companions, ending by saying: "But I only felt the slightest vibration of active magic here, and that more of the sort stored in amulets. This place is rife with the tools of magic - more so than I have ever seen in one place."
Firekeeper frowned. "But you have seen magical tools in the past."
"A few, like the light stones," Plik said, "but in this land, as in the north, magical artifacts were destroyed following the coming of Divine Retribution. Those we have at Center Island would not still function today except that Sky-Dreaming-Earfh-Bound had some gift for handling energies. Now that he is dead, I suppose they will darken again."
At his words, Plik was pleased to see Blind Seer's hackles smooth - at least a little - and Firekeeper's hand move deliberately from the hilt of her knife. Whether he had soothed the two northerners or merely shamed them, still he felt he had defused a potentially destructive situation.
"There is a secret hidden here," Plik went on. "I am sure of it. There are a few books in this room" - they stood in the first room - "and in the room with the silver block. I could read those ..."
He heard a faint sigh from Firekeeper, and knew he was pressing her patience. He must remember she was not human and that being underground would not be natural for her.
"But the books can be carried away," he went on. "While I pack them, I would like you to inspect whatever else is here for some indication of who this place was made to hold."
"That is my desire also," Blind Seer growled, "for whoever he is, he seems far too interested in my Firekeeper."
FIREKEEPER DID NOT BEGRUDGE PLIK his desire to take the books away. After all, Truth would have remained locked behind the silver door if the maimalo-dalum had not preserved some of the old knowledge. She did rather begrudge the way the raccoon-man took each one and shook it, seeking for things hidden between the leaves, before packing it in a sack that had once contained provisions.
Concerned lest she be asked to join him in his wearisome task, the wolf-woman methodically searched the other rooms. She began with the sleeping room. This was perhaps the most normal room of the four, but even so, there were not the things she had come to expect where humans made their lairs.
Blind Seer came in as she was patting down the mattress, looking for anything that might have been hidden within.
"Phew!" he said, sneezing. "It reeks of human male."
He paused and sniffed again. "And yet, not. There is something strange here."
"Strange?"
"I cannot say. How can one compare something to something when one has met nothing like?"
Firekeeper nodded. "Whoever slept here was clean, at least. No fleas, no lice, no bedbugs. Tell me, Blind Seer, have you noticed what is odd about this place?"
"What is not odd?" the wolf countered.
Firekeeper swatted at him, but went on. "I mean there are none of those little things humans accumulate where they live. Derian had them, so did Elise, even when we traveled. Small things of little use except that they reminded the owner of someone else, somewhere else."
Blind Seer studied the room, his blue eyes intent.
"You are right. There are no mementos here - unless the books may be such. Perhaps this place was like an inn, not the den of one man, but used by many."
Firekeeper frowned. "My nose is not yours, but wherever I have searched there has only been one stranger's scent."
"True."
They passed from the bedchamber to the room through which the water flowed. Unlike the rest of the place, which was still and cold and somehow dead, this place was alive with the chuckling of the running water. The waters were clean and fresh, but in the dim light they appeared shadowed and opaque rather than clear.
Firekeeper felt a sudden knowledge.
"I think whoever lived here - whoever it was who called to Truth - must have loved this room and this stream. I wonder that he did not let the waters carry him away with them."
She plunged one bare arm into the water. "Cold, but not too cold."
Still holding her arm beneath the surface, Firekeeper moved to where the water flowed away near the wall and probed. "Ah, the outlet is small, and a grille has been set over it, as if even the stupid fish were to be kept out. How firmly is it set, I wonder."
She leaned forward. There was a current, but not so powerful that she need fear it would drag her under. She located the bottom edge of the grille, found it set as firmly in the stone as the silver block had been in the wall. Her fingers found something else, too: pieces of something hard and solid with many oddly shaped edges. They were no larger than her hand and rolled slightly in the current, confirming that they were not anchored.
"Did he leave his cooking things here to be drawn out when they were needed?" she asked.
"Pull out what you have found," Blind Seer replied practically. "Why guess when you can know? Do you think you can reach what is there without going for a swim?"
/>
"I think so. Yes. One ..." Firekeeper closed her fingers around something and set it dripping on the stone. 'Two. Three. A fourth ... I think that is all. What do we have?"
Blind Seer had been sniffing at her find. "Stone. Wet stone. That is all my nose tells me. Let us take them where the light is better."
Firekeeper agreed. She could tell the stone had been worked, but in the dim light little more. Shaking off the worst of the water, she gathered up the four pieces and carried them into the room with the silver block, where the light was best.
Plik's feet slapping against the tiled floor announced
"What have you found?" Firekeeper was rubbing one piece against her tattered loincloth to dry it. "Carved stones. They were hidden under the water."
She inspected her find. "Plik, my eyes do not always see what humans call art, but I think this is a little statue of a woman."
Plik took it from her. "Your eyes see perfectly well. This is a woman. That broken one is a man in the attire of the Liglimom. See the trouser legs gathered at the bottom id the full blouse?"
Firekeeper had no eye for details of dress. She had been inspecting another piece. It was also a woman, but: this time it was a woman she thought she recognized. "Queen Valora!" she said, and heard her voice break in astonishment.
V
QUEEN VALORA?" Plik looked at Firekeeper. The wolf-woman's fingers were curled tightly around the stone figurine. "Is this figure a portrait of someone you know?" Firekeeper nodded slowly. "I have seen Queen Valora. She is not a friend, not precisely an enemy - though I think she would be pleased to do us harm if she could."
Blind Seer had nosed Firekeeper's fingers into uncurling, and was now inspecting the figurine.
"I think I see the resemblance," he said. "Take a look at the base, Firekeeper. Something interesting there."
Firekeeper did so and frowned. "Symbols carved deeply into the stone. Two sets - one is the emblem for the kingdom of Bright Bay. The other, that one also seems familiar, but I am not sure where I have seen it."
Wolf Hunting Page 7
