by Andre Norton
Again there was a silent pause, broken this time by a stir of those in the company, though there was no change in the position of the one fronting her.
Then came an answer in part:
“This one is Gosel of the Hassitti, those who were to wait.”
Kadiya acknowledged this with a courteous nod.
“Those who were to wait,” Gosel repeated, “for so was the bond laid upon us when the Shining Ones departed for their own place. Dreams have been sent us, many dreams through the seasons, and in them each we saw again what had been and received that promise of what would be: that we should not be alone, even though we could not follow their road which was not meant for our kind. We have waited for the coming of the promised one—but it has been long and lone …”
If thought could vanish in a sigh, then this did. Kadiya felt a little of a vast need long unfulfilled.
“I am not one of those who left you.” She must drive that truth home. She must destroy at once any hope these might have that she was one of the city people come again.
“You are one brought to us,” Gosel returned stubbornly. “Surely you came by the will of the Great Ones or you would not be here. Therefore the Hassitti are to be again dwellers of the courtyards, heart-friends, even as was.”
“Friends, I will gladly claim you,” Kadiya answered. She held out her hand across the table as if in guest-welcome.
So their hands met palm to palm. Instantly Kadiya was aware of a flood of warmth, of welcome and good feeling such as she had seldom known. There was something about these Hassitti which was disarming, which drew her even as she had always been drawn to the Oddlings and the swamplands, yet this was even more intense.
“We have kept all which we could, safe held for your coming,” Gosel said with the eagerness of a child who wished to please an elder. “Come with us, Noble One, to see how the Hassitti have striven to follow all the needs of duty.”
So she was escorted from that room of feasting by Gosel, the one who carried the crystal bells, and now a host of lamp bearers. In company they went from chamber to chamber.
There were the remains of rich furnishings, skeletons of chairs and tables, fashioned in a greater size than those she had always known, even as Gosel’s table had been lower. The walls were painted. Some showed scenes she longed to study closer, but her guides impatiently pressed her on. One chamber was fitted with many shelves and on those were stacked boxes of metal, some touched by rust.
At Gosel’s direction several of these were opened and their contents displayed. It was a strange mixture of objects. There were more of such gems as lay in the fountain basin or used to adorn the rags the Hassitti wore. Also there were rods with bulbous encrustations on their sides, and rolls of what she thought might be the cured skin such as was used for the inscribing of formal documents among her own people. Again she was given no time for touching or lengthy examination.
Several rooms were so crammed with things that one could only look in from the doorway. The lamplight did not stretch far enough to let her see what objects this clutter might conceal—save that many pieces were big and bulky.
Kadiya began to believe that either those who had once dwelt here, or perhaps the Hassitti in a desire to preserve all that was left, had emptied other buildings to transport their contents here. It would take her days to make sense of it all, if that could ever be done. Still curiosity bred excitement and she felt that stir of blood which made feverish the hunter of treasure. Here was such a find as the Ruwendians had never known existed.
They came at last through the maze of rooms and hallways into a courtyard. Here was another fountain in play and the fresh air of the outer world.
For the first time she could view clearly all those who had accompanied her. Most of them wore some kind of drapery, scarves heavy with bits of jewelry, or a few long tattered robes. Their own scaled skins gave off an irradiance similar to some of the jewels they wore, glinting green, blue, red, orange in the daylight. They were all of a size, standing just to the height of her shoulder. There were no smaller ones suggesting offspring among them.
Now those who had carried lamps blew them out. They broke apart from the tight escort group, some pressing forward to bend heads and protrude their long tongues to suck up the fountain water.
Though there was no sun overhead, Kadiya was suddenly aware of the passing of time. Jagun would have wakened, found her gone, be seeking her. The hunter had skills which would aid him to follow her through the city, since she had not tried to conceal her passage. But there were dangers such as the vine which had attacked her, and certainly she must not allow Jagun to remain in anxiety about her.
She could identify Gosel by scarf ornaments and now she went to the Speaker, striving quickly to form a mind picture of the Nyssomu hunter.
“My battle comrade—he will be seeking me.”
“Already the swamp paddler has come,” Gosel replied calmly. “He is safe caught in the maze. Is it your will that he be free?”
Were the Hassitti and the Oddlings enemies? Kadiya remembered Jagun’s reaction to the wall drawings. Had he known of the Hassitti but for some reason wished to keep them secret?
“He is my good friend! Let me go to him!” There was the sharpness of an order in her voice.
5
How much danger did Jagun face? Again her impetuous lack of thought had drawn another into trouble. Would she ever learn? Though the Hassitti could scuttle at a swift pace, Kadiya was impatiently pulling ahead of Gosel, needing at last to slow to allow the smaller creature to catch up with her.
They were followed again by a stream of Hassitti. The cackle of their speech was echoed from the larger walls as they went—not reentering the building in the direction from which they had come but along a lengthy corridor, the roof of which had been inset with transparent squares yielding a dim, greenish light.
The passage curved and Kadiya was sure they were angling back toward that outer square where she had found the fountain of jewels. But they did not emerge there. Rather the curving hall became a ramp slanting downward. The lighted patches on the roof disappeared.
Though shadowy dusk crowded in, it did not seem to affect any of the Hassitti. None of them carried lamps yet went confidently ahead. However, Kadiya was uneasy and her own pace slowed. Her companions had shown her only good will but their welcome might have been a sham. They had admitted that Jagun was somehow captive. Had they so easily also ensnared her because of her recklessness?
The down slope ceased and the pavement underfoot ran straight. Kadiya stumbled, for the dark was almost complete, and she knocked against one of the Hassitti. Her free hand was caught in a grip of rough-coated claws. For a moment she tried to free herself but a hard jerk availed her nothing.
“Great One—we take you. It is safe—”
Kadiya felt herself flush in vexation. She had so quickly and easily betrayed her unease. One faced the unknown with at least a shell of composure.
Still there were no lamps. Now she strode hand in hand with this scaled alien through a blackness so solid to her sight that it was as if a pocket of tangible darkness had entrapped her.
Her guide pulled her toward the left leaving her no recourse but to follow. The chittering speech of the others had ended, but the girl heard the constant scrape of clawed feet on stone.
Then—light ahead, such a burst of it that Kadiya’s eyes could not take the explosion of raw color. She put her hands up to shade her eyes and tried to peer between the shelter of fingers at what waited ahead.
A giant fire might be filling a space as great as that audience hall which must now lie far above. Yet the shooting flames were not vertical but horizontal, sweeping from left to right in constant movement. Also they were not just red and yellow. There were crackling passes of blue, purple, green, and brilliant eye-punishing white. They would flicker, leap, hold steady for a moment and then be gone.
The Hassitti had drawn her out on what seemed to be a ledge, as fa
r as her light-dazzled eyes could tell. Before them those lightning strikes of violent color skimmed, leaped, swung above some huge space which was below the level on which they stood. Though many times one of the spears of that strange conflagration would soar into the air, none of them approached, or struck near the ledge. Nor did Kadiya feel any sensation of heat.
“It is the maze.” Gosel’s explanation formed in her mind.
There was no pattern to that furious play of light beams. Were not mazes supposed to be a collection of pathways which led into one another, or into dead ends, unless one knew the secret? Sheltering her eyes as well as she could Kadiya strove to distinguish such pathways. There was only that light in constant searing motion.
She turned on Gosel. “Where is my comrade? What have you done with him?”
The Hassitti made a gesture at the place of colors.
“He is there.”
Caught in that? Kadiya’s hot anger brought her two steps nearer to the edge of the ledge. But how could she find him?
“Get him out!” She snapped an order.
Gosel’s hands moved in a gesture which plainly suggested helplessness. The Hassitti was looking at her oddly. Now it dropped forward, the scarf swathed head turning at what must be a painful angle in order to still see the girl.
“Great One, there is no way—”
That light burnt away sight instead of flesh. Jagun, whose people were bred in the murky swamplands where frequent mists curtained much of the land, what must be his present torment? If she suffered now from those lightning-like flashes, how much worse it must be for him.
“There must be a way!” Kadiya said to herself and her bared teeth aimed the comment also to the Hassitti.
“Great One,” Gosel answered, “the ways are closed save to those with the Power.”
Power? Her hand went to the amulet at her throat. She thought of the orbed sword. Two powers—keys to this?
But first she must know, be sure that Jagun was here, gain some idea of the direction in which she must search. Kadiya opened the pouch at her belt and rolled into the palm of her hand a hollow reed slightly over finger length. It had been made for Nyssomu use, but she had employed it successfully before. She would do so again. The girl handled it delicately as it was so small. Lips about the one end, fingertips just so on certain patterned holes along the length.
Kadiya blew a series of notes not unlike the tinkle of the crystals which the Hassitti used. There was no roaring from the flames which laced the space before her. Could that call intended to alert another hunter carry to Jagun?
She sounded the flute again and varied the sound with notes which increased the summons. There was silence from the Hassitti. Were they sure that she had failed?
For the third time she blew the call.
Faint—Yes, she was sure! There was an answer.
She had already discarded her first plan for venturing into that maze. Could it not be that she could draw Jagun out this way, bring him to her even as one hunter called another to join on a fresh game trail? They had done this during the past fighting, gathering in squads of Oddlings to join a central force when it was necessary.
Kadiya held that call steady, resenting the need to halt now and then to flip the moisture from the tube. But she was sure that each time an answer came it was louder.
Again the summons sounded. Her eyes smarted from the constant assault of the raw color before her, but she could not shade them now. Tears gathered as she strove to look into that maelstrom, to hunt for a glimpse of Jagun.
The flute notes rose and fell. How long had she called? Her fingers had stiffened into the pattern of the holes. Now, deep breath. Once again—
Out of a band of scorching orange staggered a black figure which did not belong in that sea.
Kadiya thrust the flute into her purse and threw herself belly down on the ledge. The Oddling was below, weaving back and forth as one drained of blood or so wearied that his body resisted his will. Kadiya wriggled forward until her head and shoulders projected over the edge. She felt a heavy weight on her legs and glanced back to see through the mist of her strained sight: two of the Hassitti had stationed themselves to hold her body safe against the stone.
“Jagun!” Kadiya raised her voice and reached down.
He was reeling, his head hunched forward so that he stared at his feet, perhaps his only protection against the clash of color.
“Jagun!”
He half fell, to come up against the barrier which formed the foundation for the ledge. He raised his head and looked up to her. His eyes were mere slits and from them dribbled thick drops of mucus. His hands raised to link fingers about her wrists, while her grip tightened in turn. Now she began to edge back giving all her strength to drawing the Oddling up and out of that trap. Claw hands had seized upon her, were aiding her efforts.
She was well back from the edge now and Jagun’s head and shoulders were rising into view. Hassitti scuttled forward, grabbing at the Oddling. Kadiya felt the strain end as they pulled the hunter to safety.
Jagun lay unmoving, facedown, and she hurried to roll him over. His mouth gaped open and he moved limp in her grasp. Fear struck Kadiya. Somehow she hoisted him up, both of their backs to that swirling maelstrom, his head resting against her shoulder. She was not even sure he was breathing now. What torment he had undergone in that maze she could not guess—Oddlings might even find it fatal.
“You—” She looked to Gosel. “What have you done?”
The Hassitti was at her side, muzzle pointed down toward the Oddling as if sniffing.
Did the creature even understand? Kadiya strove to find a pulse in the Oddling’s neck as she steadied him against her. There was the sharp scent given off by his kind at the height of fear.
“Get him out!” The order was more for herself than the Hassitti. But how? Though Jagun was smaller than she, he was no lightweight and the long passage they had followed to come here was more than she dared attempt while carrying him. Carefully she laid him back upon the pavement and then turned and grabbed at one of the trailing shawls worn by a nearby Hassitti, jerking it from the creature’s shoulders.
Kadiya flapped that down on the pavement. Her own eyes burned and smarted, but she was able to do this much. Spreading out the shawl she lifted Jagun onto it. The length of material was thicker in her hand than it looked. She had reversed it so that the many fastened ornaments were now on the bottom side and she was able to move Jagun onto a fairly smooth surface. Taking her own belt she made the hunter fast, pulling the shawl around him as far as it would go and then securing it. That done she gathered up the end of the length she had left loose.
There was not enough of the stretch to allow her to stand upright. However, what she could do she would. Only now claw hands caught that drag for the improvised travois she had made and Gosel mind-spoke:
“We will take the swamper—”
“You have done this to him!” Kadiya flashed. That warmness of feeling which had been with her since she had first seen the Hassitti had vanished. Trust them with him now? Not while she still held hope he was alive.
“He came without peace words. He is Oddling, not Noble One, and the maze was made to catch comers who are not of this place,” Gosel returned. “We can help him—if the Noble One wants this swamper, we will aid.”
Four of them had fallen in about the wrapped hunter and now their claws caught in the shawl roll and lifted. Kadiya retreated a step. They were swinging him up off the ground in a way she could not have managed, and they had already moved toward that opening through which they had come into this place. Now she felt the scrape of rough scaled skin on her own wrist. Gosel was beside her, urging her on. She followed, but kept her still punished eyes as well as she could on Jagun and his bearers.
The journey back was long. Some of the Hassitti left to scurry on at a faster pace. But the rest remained, for Jagun’s bearers changed at intervals. During each halt, Kadiya tried to find some sign of life in t
heir charge. At the second such test there was a faint stir of breath against her hand.
“Jagun?” She mind-sought as she had done with the Hassitti.
A whirl of color, punishing pain—and through that something else which bit sharply at her. He had been concerned for her. It was fear for her which had brought him into this.
Kadiya fought now to reach his scattered thoughts. “It is well, warrior. I am here, there is no danger …”
That might not be the truth but she was going to hold to that as long as she could. Then she heard the scrape of feet and two more Hassitti joined them. One of them had lengths of what looked like large, half pulped leaves, and the other carried a flask.
These burdens the girl could see clearly for another trailed them with a lamp which swung on chains. Once more their fellows made room around Jagun. Kadiya refused to give way, kneeling beside the Oddling. He was visibly breathing, but his eyes were closed, seemingly caked with a yellowish discharge.
The Hassitti carrying the leaf lengths laid them carefully beside Jagun as the one with the lamp leaned forward to give better light. Their companion snapped up the cover on the flask.
Into the underground musty smell of this deep way spread something Kadiya knew well. This was the very breath of the garden—that perfect place of serenity and peace. Claw fingers doubled and scooped, bringing up a greenish jelly, and the scent of healthy growing things was strengthened.
Dropping to the floor, the flask bearer swept those burdened claws back and forth across the shortest of the leaf lengths, coating it thoroughly and thickly.
It was the first of the newcomers who took command of the operation now. This one was so shawl-bedecked that the creature seemed at first to have some trouble in freeing its hands as it reached for the laden leaf.
