Immediately, the ring began to glow more brightly and the rune engraved upon it began to expand off of its surface and take shape in the air above it. Thin tendrils of white light inched their way from the now suspended image to the stones, and as each ribbon of light touched a colored stone, the gem burst forth with its own vivid color, sending it back up the thread of light and to the ring in four rapid and intense explosions. The ring was now hovering high above the table, enmeshed in a web of multicolored rays that spun and wove themselves together around it in intricate and delicate geometric patterns. As the movements gained speed, the colors merged and blended, and they began to spin in harmony with one another, where at first they appeared independent and apart. They moved so quickly that Baladar had to fight so as not to become completely mesmerized by the motion.
So I am to be drawn back into the weave after all, he thought with no small amount of excitement. Not since he had called the boy’s teachers to Pardatha and he had cast the spells of protection upon the unconscious heir had the gems reacted so.
Baladar watched closely as the images formed in the air before him. First, a tree appeared. It resembled the young one on the banks of the River of Tears below, but it was distinctly different. It was much larger and older. Its image was as sharp and defined as if he was standing right before it.
An ancestor perhaps, or a glimpse of the future, he speculated as he looked for identifying signs.
The area around it did not look at all familiar to him. He could not see any water in the vicinity, and the trees surrounding the Lalas looked like miniatures in comparison. Then he realized that they were not small at all, but that the other was just so incredibly large! It dwarfed everything nearby. Before he could focus more closely upon it, the image grew blurred and changed.
A city came into focus with towers and spires that rose high into the air, piercing the clouds as they ascended. The stone of the buildings was dark, yet it was quite beautiful to look upon. It too was unfamiliar to him in appearance, but there were flags flying from the tops and he tried desperately to bring them into focus. He saw a black gryphon on an emerald green background on one banner, and then he saw a bolt of white lightening splayed across a dark blue field on another. Others were flying as well beside these two, but each of the images upon them was as unknown to him as the next. His gaze was drawn to the walls and beyond, where he saw thousands upon thousands of people surrounding them in all directions. He was elated by the vision and he felt light and carefree.
He lurched forward in the chair, suddenly staring at dark swirls of smoke rising in thick spirals from a burning ruin as the figures changed once again. All that remained was a charred mass of rubble and thousands of dead and dying bodies strewn everywhere. Weapons lay broken upon the ground and he could hear the sounds of people crying though he could not find them in the devastation. He opened his mouth to scream someone’s name, but no sound ushered forth because he could not recall the name he wished to shout. He watched in sadness as he visually scanned the battlefield, hoping desperately to find the person he sought, though frightfully worried that he had come to some terrible harm and that he would never see him again. Still all the while, he did not know whom he searched for. A cloud of dust rose from the ground, obscuring everything completely, and he fanned the air with his hands in an effort to clear it so that he could continue his hunt.
Once he regained his focus he was looking at a completely different picture than the one he had been viewing only moments before. A piece of paper or parchment was fluttering back and forth in the still air as it slowly descended toward the darkness below. Hulking buildings framed the area, but they were lifeless and in disrepair. Baladar felt great trepidation once again and he wanted to reach out and grab the object before it was lost forever. He could see the glow of many eyes looking on from above and they were motionless and seemed unaffected by the loss. He wanted to warn them, to tell them to save the thing that they calmly watched fall, but he could not. His heart stopped beating as the paper floated silently down, and he had a compelling and unremitting urge to cry.
Mist obscured everything as the images shifted once again. He watched intently trying to peer through it and straining his eyes in the process, hoping for it to lift so that he could see what lay hidden within its billowing thickness. A chill ran over his body and then a feeling of foreboding engulfed him, taking the place of the sadness and sorrow that had previously consumed him. He stared intently despite feeling a strong impulse to avert his eyes. Like a child looking through spread fingers at a grisly scene, he watched as a figure formed in the fog.
A man shrouded in black from head to foot was standing with his back toward him, and Baladar immediately felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Fighting the compulsion to wretch, he kept watching. He could not see the person’s face, but he stared as he raised his arm and reached out for something in front of him. The figure grabbed for what Baladar feared was the parchment, but instead he now clutched in his gloved hand what looked like a branch of a tree. He drew it toward him as he bent down upon one knee.
Suddenly, another figure came into focus beside this other, horribly ominous one. The second one was smaller in stature than the first, and Baladar smiled involuntarily at its appearance. It too was clothed from head to toe in a garment that obscured any identifying features from him, but just seeing it before him generated a feeling of buoyancy and well-being. It too reached out and took hold of a branch from what he could now clearly see was a tree looming in front of him, and this figure too bent down upon one knee before it. He heard chanting and humming everywhere as if some kind of ceremony was taking place. Each of the figures lifted his free hand to his forehead and was about to pull the hood back and reveal himself, when the tree’s branches spread out over them, and partially concealed them from Baladar’s view. Just before the second figure disappeared completely behind the veil of leaves, his fingers clenched the fabric that covered him and he slipped it from his head.
“Davmiran!” he gasped aloud as he saw the boy’s blonde hair fall out from the folds of his cape.
The boy turned to face him an instant before the darkness of the foliage overtook him, and the last thing that Baladar saw was Tomas’ green eyes, swollen with tears, as they stared back at him. His young face was anguished and stricken with sorrow. A loud cracking noise immediately ensued, and the branches upon which the thick foliage hung crumbled to powder all over the kneeling boy, blanketing him and concealing him from Baladar’s view.
He had no time to think or to react. A brilliant white light blinded him from somewhere behind the massive trunk of the tree, and he was forced to cover his own eyes in response. The crackling sound grew louder and louder, assaulting his ears as well. It sounded as if the whole world was coming down around him. A pounding noise like the beating of a very loud drum distinguished itself amidst the cacophony of sounds, and then he heard voices shouting desperately. They were familiar and he cocked his head sideways to listen more closely. He could see nothing now as his eyes were completely besotted by the intensity of the light, but he craned his head in an effort to understand.
The hammering grew louder and more defined, and the noises gradually became more intelligible. He rubbed his eyes and his vision began to slowly clear. The room started to take shape before him once again, and he could see his ring lying beside the gems which were glinting in the sunlight that streamed in from the windows.
“Lord Baladar! Unlock the door. Let me in!” he could hear someone yelling amongst the continual banging upon the thick wooden slab.
Slowly, he rose from his chair, leaned forward and swept the stones back into the suede pouch. He lifted the ring which was still warm and placed it upon his finger. His mind was flooded with the visions from before, and he replayed them so that he could remember as many details as possible, though he knew that some had already faded and were lost forever. He struggled to recall as much as he could. Grogan was worried about him, and it was cruel to del
ay him any longer.
As he walked to the doorway the thought struck him, I must go to the lake! It was almost as if someone had directed him to do so. With a determined look in his eyes, he released the seals and opened the door. Grogan burst in to the room, anticipating trouble.
“My Lord! We have been standing here for quite some time. Is everything all right?” he asked anxiously.
“Yes, quite all right. You have no need to worry. I must have dozed off and I did not hear your entreaty,” Baladar explained. “I am truly sorry to have caused you such concern. It seems that I am more fatigued than I realized. Is anything wrong?” he asked.
“No, Lord Baladar. As long as you are okay, everything else is fine. I only wished to advise you that the guard has been posted as inconspicuously as possible as you so directed,” he said.
“Thank you, Grogan. I do not anticipate any trouble in any event, but you are correct. It is the prudent thing to do under the circumstances,” Baladar replied. “And now, I think that I will go for a ride and mull all of this over. It is difficult to gain perspective when I am holed up in the castle all the time. Our responsibilities have multiplied since the others departed, and I have much to consider.”
“As you wish, my Lord. Do you wish me to accompany you?” he asked.
“No, Grogan. That will not be necessary. I need some time alone. I shall return before nightfall,” Baladar responded.
“As you wish, my Lord,” he said as he bowed his head slightly, though it was clear by his tone of voice that he disapproved of his master’s decision.
Baladar often in the past wandered out into the woods to commune with the spirit of his wife and her Lalas, and Grogan knew how important those moments were to him, though he was always disquieted and vexed until he returned. Fortunately, it had been a long time since he had done so, much to the relief of the Master at Arms.
“Shall I have your horse saddled and readied?”
“No, thank you. I will do that myself. I have so little to do these days, it will be my pleasure,” he said.
“With the crowds gathering daily around the young tree, you may one day recall these moments of leisure more fondly than you do so now, my Lord,” Grogan said with a wry smile.
“That may be, Sir. If so, you must remind me of my words so that I do not complain and sound foolish,” he replied warmly.
“That is a promise, my Lord,” Grogan said with a smile.
“Good. I will hold you to that!” Baladar replied as he ushered him out of the room. “Meet me here at sundown and we will discuss the more permanent arrangements we must make regarding the future of the tree.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Grogan replied, bowed and left the room.
Chapter Thirty-one
The passageway opened abruptly into a cavernous space. It was illuminated by strips of light that were suspended in mid-air all around. Neither Tamara nor Angeline were able to determine what these bright bands were made of. Every strip was about three feet in length, and they hung high above their heads in symmetrical rows. As they walked into the chamber and looked up, each one virtually disappeared. From beneath, they were invisible, yet as soon as they gazed at any one of them from an angle, it became visible again.
“These are fascinating!” Tamara commented as she stared all around. “How is it that they seem only to have substance when looked upon from certain directions?” she asked Etuah.
“What you see is an illusion,” she replied simply. “Behold!” Etuah said, waving her long arms back and forth.
As she did so, the lights that were so geometrical seconds before and seemed so fixed in space, broke up into thousands of swirling, luminous pinpoints that flew in all directions, caught in the whirligigs created by the Drue’s hand motions. They floated high and low, and as the gusts of air reached further into the chamber, more of the objects that had appeared to be stationary and solid, disintegrated instantaneously and flew randomly and directionless around the room, while they sent clouds of light of different intensities everywhere.
“We try to create order where we can,” Etuah explained. “Though there is no real need, it still comforts us.”
As they walked deeper into the cavern, the Drue moved her arms again, and the pinpoints of light reassembled in what appeared now to be torch-like shapes that began to adhere to the walls all around them.
“Are you more at ease with these?” she asked the sisters.
“I was not uncomfortable before,” Tamara said, wide-eyed. “However, whatever you choose is fine.”
“I thought the other lights were just beautiful, but it really does not matter,” Angeline agreed as they continued moving across the flat, hard floor.
“Our time together is limited. We must begin as soon as possible,” Etuah said, changing the subject a moment later.
Tamara looked at Angeline before speaking once again to their host.
“You have said that we cannot stay here, that we do not have time. And you say we must begin. You know so much about us. It is not as if I do not trust you, Etuah,” Tamara said to the Drue, “I truly do, believe me! But, you are confusing me. Who told you we would be arriving here? You said that the Lalas know, and therefore, so do you. But did they also tell you about the map?” she asked bluntly.
Etuah had stopped walking and turned to face the two sisters. When she stood sideways she was practically invisible, much like the lights that they saw before. Now, as she stood before them, they could see her clearly. Her garments trailed out behind her like streamers or filaments in the wind, though not even the slightest of breezes wafted through the cavern. Her skin was so pale and her limbs were so thin that she appeared waif-like despite the fact that she was taller than either of the other two women. The glow that engulfed her came from within her body, as if the blood that flowed through her veins was itself iridescent.
“You cannot stay here,” she began to explain. “A part of you will die if you stay here. The hollows cannot sustain you for long. There is no life here, and if you remain between you will never be able to leave. The hollows claim those eternally who abide here longer than they should, or who cannot withstand the intrusion upon their souls,” she said.
“How long do we have?” Angeline asked.
“That depends upon each of you somewhat,” Etuah answered. “I do not know your strengths yet,” she replied, and she eyed them both closely.
“A day? A Week?” Tamara continued to press her.
“Perhaps a few days. It is uncertain,” Etuah said, avoiding a more definite response. “Perhaps less. I told you before that the Lalas advised us of your arrival. It was an unusual communication. We do not confer with the trees; we share things sometimes. And even that is sad for us as well as for them. We arrive when they are no more.” Etuah opened her bulbous eyes even wider than usual as she stared hard at Tamara. “It was necessary this time,” she said.
“If the trees are guiding us and protecting us , why need we fear?” Angeline asked in a voice that sounded more ethereal than usual.
Tamara turned to her friend and looked her directly in the eyes. Before she had an opportunity to question her, the Drue spoke again.
“The Dark One seeks the map as well,” Etuah replied simply. “And more…”
“How could he have known that we had taken it out of Parth? Was he even aware that it was in the Tower to begin with?” Tamara asked.
“Somehow he became aware,” the Drue woman replied.
Both Tamara and Angeline gasped at her words. Neither of them quite understood the full implications of them, but they were quick witted enough to realize what she meant.
“One of the sisters told him? That cannot be possible,” Tamara declared.
“Absolutely impossible!” Angeline agreed.
“He was advised nonetheless,” Etuah said. “It was not a coincidence that lead one of the Possessed to your trail. The options for betrayal are few.”
Tamara pondered her words for a moment.
“Though Parth harbored the parchment for hundreds of tiels, that fact was almost as well kept a secret as the location of the First itself,” the Drue said.
“Yet this betrayal led us to you!” Tamara reasoned. “We would never have found you had we not been forced to seek shelter.”
“The fabric weaves of its own will,” Etuah replied.
“Often, yes,” Tamara agreed. “But this time?” she questioned.
“What are you saying, Tamara?” Angeline asked her friend, confused.
“I do not know for sure, sister. I am bewildered as well. Etuah tells us that we were deceived. She tells us that perhaps one of our own trusted sisters told Colton of our journey. That seems unlikely to me. But, surely someone gave us away. The Lady Margot did not simply stumble upon us in the hills. That was not the first time she and I had met, but she had no reason to track me, sister!” Tamara said. “And we ended up here, in a place we would never have found otherwise. So whoever betrayed us, regardless of their intention, assisted us enormously, it now seems!”
“Assisted us? She almost killed us!” Angeline replied.
“But she did not, sister. And now we are here, sound, though perhaps not altogether safe,” Tamara said. “Etuah tells us that we can journey to Odelot through the hollows,” Tamara continued to think out loud. “So, despite Margot’s efforts, and despite the fact that she was sent by someone to intercept us, it is still possible that the betrayer helped us instead!” the stout sister concluded.
The Shards Page 31
