Golden Trillium

by Andre Norton

  That these did not come was almost a matter for fear. She could not believe that the creatures had abandoned their perch above, were not ready to deal again with any of the party daring to return.

  She crawled onward. Then she was in the open, hunching in upon herself as if such a clear target could somehow be made invisible. She grabbed the sword so quickly from her mouth that there was a sharp pain and a trickle of blood marked her chin.

  They had cleared the grill when they had found it. Now the Hassitti, who had beaten her to this goal, was running claws about the meeting of stone and metal, plainly striving to find some crevice.

  “Back!” Kadiya’s thought was a sharp order. The Hassitti—it was Quave she saw now—obeyed.

  A clatter sounded above: a stone coming. Kadiya cowered. If it was going to hit—She flopped over on her side and saw the thing strike.

  It was close enough to send grit and dust puffing into her face. But she saw something else: Jagun and Smail climbing up the walls. Around both of them thickened a strange and quivering envelope of dull green into which they disappeared from sight more and more. It was also turning grayish, fading into the stone behind it. Power—but whose? Kadiya had no time to wonder.

  She turned again and held out the sword, striving to banish everything from her mind save what must be done—to feed into the weapon she held the utmost strength she could summon.

  The sword heated still more, the pain in her hands was a rising torment. Now the three eyes blazed down on that grid. She shifted the focus so the light moved slowly back and forth across the metal. Pain was rising to the point where she could have screamed and she fought it bitterly. This must be done!

  There was a shimmer on the grid—or was that her eyes betraying her? No, even when she moved the sword there remained a glow across the metal. With all her remaining strength Kadiya continued to lace that plate even as Lamaril had laced the door below. But this was not to seal a barrier. It was a key to open one—if all the forces of Light would will it so!

  The Power was so draining! A second Hassitti had joined the first. That the grid was glowing with heat did not appear to trouble them at all as they clawed in and around those shimmering metal bars.

  A harsh ripping sound—The Hassitti, working together, had suddenly thrust downward and the grid had given!

  What the aperture had sealed was now a dark hole. Kadiya crawled forward once more. She had no time to waste.

  Trying not to think of crashing rocks though wondering for a second why those had not come, she sat up and held the sword over the hole. The eyes were near closed. They gave no light to see. The amulet! Would that serve instead? Kadiya clawed the chain from around her neck and dangled it down. As the amber passed the surface where that barrier had been it did indeed give light. At least enough to show a large space below, and that the drop to the floor was not beyond her powers.

  Her mouth hurt too much for her to grip the sword again. She managed to anchor it to her belt where it could be quickly to hand. Then Kadiya swung over to let herself drop, moving away just in time as two of the Uisgu followed, and then a third.

  The chamber which they entered thusly was not a rough cave. Its walls had been smoothed; they reflected a little the gleam of the amulet. Piled about those walls were coffers of metal such as Kadiya had seen in Yatlan.

  There was nothing else. But as she turned slowly, the amulet in hand, she glimpsed a dark patch on the far wall which was so much in shadow she could hardly distinguish it.

  Toward that she hurried, the Uisgu after her. They had been joined by Salin, as well as the Hassitti who had scrambled through the hole to drop what was a much longer distance for them.

  As she approached the far wall Kadiya could see a door there—or rather an opening across which there appeared no barrier. Yet, as she stepped toward it, she came up against a wall she could not see, though it was firm under the hands she put out to feel across that invisible surface.

  There was only one key she knew of, one which had served her faithfully in the past. She unloosed the sword and held it vertically to face the unknown.

  From the pommel streamed a light indeed, but very faint—from one eye only, that which resembled her own. Back and forth she swept it, as she had cleared away the grid.

  Kadiya felt with her other hand. The way had opened, yet she could not see what lay beyond. The amulet’s gleam appeared almost as if it were thrown back upon itself.

  Nevertheless the girl moved on, the others close on her heels. And once beyond that portal the light did indeed wax—enough so that she did not stumble on two steps leading downward into what was a space her poor light could not reveal in its entirety.

  Sword ready in one hand and amulet in the other Kadiya moved cautiously. Under her worn boots the flooring was smooth. Thick dust lay there and it was disturbed enough by their passing to set them all coughing.

  Then the dim light caught on something looming out of that dust. Kadiya saw another coffer but this was as long as one of the Sindona was tall. The sides were of the blue-green metal of which their race had made so much use. However, the top gave back, even from so pale a light as the amulet emitted, glints of brilliance. As the girl came up beside it she saw that the whole of the lid seemed to be one massive slab in which crystals were embedded, point-up.

  Salin joined her.

  “A sleeper,” the wisewoman answered Kadiya’s unasked question.

  The Hassitti who had left the circle of amulet light now scuttled forward. “Three more which are sealed—one broken by fire,” Quave reported.

  Kadiya went to see for herself. The Hassitti was right. The crystal encrusted lid of the farthest coffer had been broken and blackened as if from fire. In fact most of it lay in jagged pieces on the floor.

  From the interior arose a fetid odor which reminded Kadiya strongly of the plague scent.

  “Do not go near it,” she warned quickly as she turned back to view the other coffers.

  If those Sindona who held the ledge had failed, if—if Lamaril was gone, then what these held would be summoned forth to do the will of the Dark. And, she thought grimly, they would do it well. Perhaps they would spread the plague to rot the mires still more. The peril would reach across Ruwenda to send death across all the lands she knew, and perhaps even beyond.

  These who slept here … there could be only one answer. They must not wake!

  “Salin, Quave.” She sought the wisewoman, the dreamer. They had Power of a sort; she had more. But might those strands be woven together to do what must be done? They must! And it would be a race against time. Their skills had locked the outer door, but the Dark Power lay now both over and under their spelling—two sides might well crush the middle! And the Sindona might be even now falling just as she had seen Lamaril go down.

  The short Uisgu, the even smaller Hassitti, now flanked her one on either side.

  Kadiya pointed to that coffer next to the one which had been broken open. “What lies within must not awaken.”

  “Kill!” The Hassitti’s demand was swift.

  “King’s Daughter, we have not the Power to keep it sealed. The little one is right—the sleeper must be destroyed.”

  “But first we must open this.” Kadiya doubtfully eyed the lid with its coating of jagged crystals.

  Those Uisgu warriors who had followed her were closing in now. They looked frail and small against that coffer, but one was already feeling along the top edge, seeking some lock or fastening. Then three of them moved in together and Kadiya joined them. There was enough of an overhang of that lid to give them finger room for a grip and now they all exerted strength to lift.

  The solid weight or perhaps a restraining spell was against them.

  Kadiya strove to insert the pointless end of the sword—but with no result. Then Salin drew her hands along that sealed line between top and sides.

  “There is a Power-lock,” the wisewoman reported.

  One set by the Vanished Ones long ago, Kad
iya wondered, or one placed by that dealer of death who fought without, to protect his kind until he returned? Either could be beyond her hope of breaking.

  She had only the sword—But not to try was to admit failure, and that Kadiya could not do.

  Once more she turned to Salin. “Will you link—you, and Quave also—” What inner strength the Hassitti dreamer might be able to summon the girl had no way of measuring, but surely there was Power behind those dreams.

  Salin moved closer. Her hand touched Kadiya’s shoulder, and the Hassitti was quick to link by touch in turn with the wisewoman. Kadiya drew a deep breath and called upon the sword, aiming the now open eyes at the edge of the coffer.

  The light beam answered. She saw the light center on the edge between lid and side. Then, though her hand did not move by any will of her own, the sword tilted so that the spear of light now moved across the top of the lid, waking to fiery light the many points of crystal with bursts of brilliance strong enough to be nearly blinding.

  Those points of crystal took on the full fury of flames. Kadiya thought she could see them outlined in a haze as if they were really burning. Back and forth the light swung—she was now subject to whatever had taken control of her weapon.

  She was dimly aware of a disturbance at her back, that the Uisgu warriors had gone in that direction, but she held to complete concentration as best she could.

  There came a shattering noise. Bits of the crystals exploded outward. Kadiya flinched as a line of pain split one cheek from edge of helm mask to chin. The lid broke in a frenzy, throwing parts in all directions. Draining energy had drawn her some steps forward and now those splinters of glass flew so that she threw one arm across her face, a moment later feeling pain as if many Oddling darts had pierced her skin.

  When Kadiya dared to look she saw that the lid had broken across. Parts of it were missing, either thrown outward by the force of that breaking, or fallen within the cavity which had been concealed.

  The sword was dimming. For all the extra energy had added to her own strength, it was still plainly near exhaustion. Kadiya realized that her own will was spinning.

  She was wet with sweat from the effort, worn but still able to keep to her feet. Now, with her free hand, she caught at some of those loose chunks, jerking them free to hurl to the floor. Salin and Quave joined at the work.

  For the first time Kadiya was mindful of something else: a high, ear-tormenting keening. She looked over her shoulder toward the wall.

  There, even as she had seen it on the ledge outside, showed the outline of a doorway—but not marked in the golden of the Sindona searching, rather in the sullen red controlled by Varm’s liegeman.

  Setting her teeth Kadiya turned back to her own task. The Uisgu warriors were waiting, blow pipes in hand facing that wall. That they could hold when the Sindona had gone down she doubted. But that door was as yet closed.

  She looked down into the coffer. There was a misty veiling there, as if the box were filled with sluggishly moving liquid. Still, she could see the outlines of a humanoid form within, one as tall as the Sindona.

  That any dart, any spear, could put an end to what slept here, she doubted. The moving swirl about it was rising, and from it puffed the foul odor of the plague, so foul that she felt some offal had been thrust into her bleeding face.

  Sword fire had defeated the traces of the plague, sword fire was all she could summon now. Kadiya felt once more the touch of Salin, and an added small but steady surge of Power which must have been from Quave.

  Kadiya raised the sword horizontally over what lay in that muck. There was light, but not from the large orb which crowned the three—rather it fed from the two beneath. And it was only a thread compared to what she had earlier been able to summon.

  Yet she stood as steady as she might, sending that double beam down into the mass within.

  The light hit the surface of whatever coated the sleeper, spread outward. There was a small flickering—not quite fire, but still something which moved. Then, as might a fire when blown upon, it flared up and coated all the length of the sleeper, blasting outward with the stench of death.

  Deep in her mind Kadiya heard a thin, anguished cry. Did she or did she not see that shrouded form beneath the fire writhe?

  The sword eyes closed. She must accept that what they had to offer had been given. However, they had cleansed but one of those coffers. Only one!

  Desperately she regarded the three which remained. She could not do it, but she must! Leaning against the edge of the one wherein the fire was smouldering, she glanced back apprehensively at the outline of the door.

  It was more than just an outline now; the wall within those lines had begun to glow. Yet it seemed to her that the dull red was not so dark, that it had in some way been diluted, lessened. Perhaps the Sindona’s fire had sapped the Power of the enemy. Yet Kadiya was certain that, even in a weakened state, what that other could command far surpassed anything she might summon.

  She stood away from that coffer they had plundered and wavered on to the next. Salin had reached the side of that before her, and Quave’s arm about Kadiya’s waist was supporting her with a strength she would not have thought possible in the smaller Hassitti.

  “Power of the mire,” Salin said, “Power of your kind, King’s Daughter. Perhaps only Power of the Old Ones does not hold here. If it is Power of the mire—”

  Now instead of just touching Kadiya she reached out and covered the girl’s sword hand with her own, while Quave stood between them, a paw on each.

  “Now!” Salin made that word a call to battle.

  With an effort Kadiya lifted the sword. She willed—There was a stronger surge of force into that blade than she had felt earlier. Now she knew what to do, and, with the Uisgu helping to hold the weapon, she traced a pattern across the crystal back and forth as quickly as she could.

  Once more that shattering—and Kadiya saw from the corner of her eye a bloody line open on Salin’s shoulder, felt a peppering of broken crystal against her mail. Again the light from the two eyes alone ate at what lay within.

  Kadiya kept her feet with difficulty. Her sword arm was growing so heavy she feared she could not hold it aloft again. She did not wait to see the fire finish the second sleeper. Instead she staggered with Salin and the Hassitti to the next coffer. Two more—could they do it?

  The door on the wall was fully aglow, heating so that the Uisgu guard were forced back. But now it bore a golden tinge. The Sindona? Could it be that they were not totally vanquished? Lamaril—thought flinched from her memory of him. She thrust his image away from her, buried it. Only one thing mattered now—those two coffers yet to be emptied.

  Salin tottered beside her. Once more they linked, and, with the Hassitti feeding them, they wrought against the crystal. This time she was cut along the throat by the flying shards, though luckily the helm kept her eyes from danger. Again the light brought fire and an ending to what lay beneath.

  They turned to the last of the coffers. Kadiya was doubtful if she could keep her feet long enough to reach it.

  Sound—not the shattering of crystal which they had not yet attacked, but a deep rusty note. Before their eyes the lid of the last coffer began slowly to rise.

  25

  The thing which emerged moved slowly as if with great effort. From it the form-shrouding liquid rolled away reluctantly; it was viscid, like the heavy slime of a bog snail. The thing flung out both arms, hands curled about the edges of the coffer to pull itself upward.

  Now its half shrouded head turned. Kadiya saw only the eyes in that face, eyes which held the dark fire of Varm’s burning.

  Instinctively she retreated, her companions with her. She swung the sword up between them and that thing levering itself out of its age-old bed.

  Greenish liquid which was like a distillation of rot splashed on the rock as it gained its feet. One arm swung out and droplets of that stuff spattered near them. A long leg swung over the side now and the thing was a
lmost free of its bed.

  The sword—There was no gleam from the top orb. That was glassy, lifeless. But from the other two broke pencils of light, joined to form a line hardly thicker than a reed-net thread.

  Kadiya aimed, knowing even as she did so that she might have made a fatal mistake in gauging the weakest point of this sleeper. However, she centered that lesser beam at its rounded ball of head from which the slime was still sloughing. It struck full on and the creature jerked back, flung up one arm in an attempt to deflect the beam.

  At the point where that light struck grew a spark of fire, as if a single small twig had been ignited. This new fire was neither the red of Varm, nor the golden radiance the Sindona commanded. It was green, the fresh green of newly sprouted river reeds.

  It struck and seemed to root, and from it sprung tendrils of even finer girth which writhed around the head. The creature’s cry was not for the ears, but rather a raw pain in Kadiya’s mind. She might have reeled back but the Hassitti, with a surprising show of strength in his small body, steadied her.

  The head of the awakened sleeper was now fast being enclosed in a green net. Its second cry came from the throat—a scream in which rage sounded even greater than pain. It threw itself forward, hands outstretched as if to embrace all three in one swoop of attack.

  Death! Like its fellow, it carried death in its touch. The opened coffer behind her was now a wall against which Kadiya half cowered, knowing that there was no escape from that vindictive attack.

  On her breast the amulet was an orb of fire in itself. It swung from side to side though she was not willing that movement. And there was a shrill din in her ears, a crying as if a hundred, a thousand voices of the mire, Oddlings, all manner of creatures—perhaps even plants—were uttering battle shouts, standing steady in defense.

  The head of the sleeper was now completely enfolded by the winding of the light save where those coals of eyes showed. It might be that the hate blazing within was what preserved its sight, that it might bring down its enemies.

  Both arms raised higher, dripping the foul moisture in which it had been immersed. It tottered on. In Kadiya’s hands the sword hung heavy. All three orbs were now glassily inert.