The Price of Wisdom

by Shannah Jay

  'It's what we should all strive for.' It was what the Sisterhood had believed for all the long centuries during which they had been guiding the people of the Twelve Claims - though there had only been one claim in the beginning - Tenebron. Lately Herra had begun to feel that she was getting ready not only

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  to move on to her next life, but to move to the next Level of Life, for she knew deep within her that she had lived many times before, lived and gained in wisdom.

  Purvlin nodded solemnly, and she was pleased to see that her words had brought him some small comfort.

  There was silence for a moment or two, then, 'I always knew I would serve our Brother in some way, though not how,' Jiran said softly. 'I, too, would never have dared hope to be chosen to join the Kindred.' He blinked tears of joy from his eyes.

  Herra clasped his hand in hers briefly. 'At present we are walking in darkness in more ways than one and none of us knows how best to serve our Brother.'

  'Not even you?' asked Purvlin, amazed.

  'Not even the oldest Sister in the Twelve Claims,' she replied with a wry smile. 'Though I'm honoured that our Brother whispers in my ear from time to time to show me the best turn to take in our difficult path, and I'm honoured that he has given me so many Gifts to help me lead my Kindred.'

  'What will our Gifts be?' wondered Daranna.

  'Who can tell, child? They'll develop slowly as you grow into full womanhood. No one can tell so soon after a Choosing, not even a Novice Mistress.' Though there were hints in the very nature of the children chosen.

  They sat there in silence for a moment or two, then, 'First we must win our way out of these caverns,' said Purvlin. 'Do you know where these passages lead, Daranna?'

  She shook her head. 'No. We didn't have time to explore them all. There must be another way out of the mountain, though, because the air in the tunnels always remains fresh, and sometimes you can feel it stirring against your cheek as if it's blowing in from somewhere. But we were only starting to explore when all this happened.'

  Herra stood up. 'Time to move on, then. Take us to the end of where you had gone before, Daranna, then we shall let our Brother lead us where he will. You will all learn to listen for your Brother's voice. It is a joy when he whispers in your ear.'

  When they reached the end of the girls' explorations, they simply pressed on, for there were no side tunnels here. With only one torch burning near the middle and another near the end of the straggling line of people, most of them were walking in a permanent dusk, stumbling along and helping one another. None of the children complained or cried when they fell or bumped themselves, Herra noticed, and they all helped one another quite instinctively. They were already a well-seasoned bunch, used to a hard world and its vicissitudes. But they were survivors.

  She began to wonder how many other fugitives there were in the hills and forests outside the major settlements, people who had run away rather than live under the Serpent's harsh rule. Perhaps some of the fugitives had pressed further on, right into the unsettled wildwoods areas that surrounded the Twelve Claims.

  The Sisters' Archives said that the population of their world had grown slowly over the centuries.

  Even before the Forebears arrived on Sunrise, legend said that their people had known how to control their own fertility, so that they could limit their families to the number of children for whom they could care properly. The legend was not completely forgotten in the Twelve Claims, though few believed in it nowadays, but it was more than a legend in the Sisterhood, for the tale of the founding of Temple Tenebrak, first of all the great temples, had been written down in considerable detail by Niam, first Keeper of the temple's Archives.

  When folk went out to found new settlements in the wildwoods, however, they started having larger families, because they needed more hands to work the land. Then, once a settlement was established, folk seemed instinctively to want fewer children again. And the Sisterhood's Healers were trained to help them in that, for they knew of herbs and their uses to aid healing and in the enhancement of health. As they would help people again, she told herself firmly, once the Serpent was defeated.

  Only under that evil cult had men started to father huge families quite indiscriminately, wearing out their women with a child each year - maybe that was because, with so many people were being killed, they knew that half their children would not survive. She let out her breath in long slow sigh, realised that she had let her ball of light grow dim and snapped her fingers again to concentrate her will and increase the glow at the end of the stick.

  Ivo had chosen to bring up the rear. 'The children don't like to be last in line,' he whispered to Herra when they stopped to eat some of their meagre supplies. 'They're forever peering over their shoulders and jumping in fright if someone kicks a piece of rock by accident. I'll talk at the end, shall I?

  I think they'll feel safer that way.'

  She nodded, smiling. Trust Ivo to think of that. He was a huge man, but so tender of others.

  'I'll walk with you if you like,' said Alaran.

  Ivo nodded. 'I'd welcome your company, but I think we should walk silently, and a little behind the others, so that we'll hear if we're being pursued.'

  So it was Alaran and Ivo who were the first to glimpse the man following them, a wild-looking fellow, dressed only in rags, with a tangled beard and long hair straggling down his back - and the marks of fetters on his ankles and wrists.

  When Ivo stopped and turned round, the man slipped back into the shadows. When Ivo moved on, he could see from the corner of his eye the man starting to follow them again.

  'Go and fetch Herra,' he said to Alaran in a low voice. 'She may be able to convince that fellow to come and speak to us. If he lives down here, surely he must know the way out.'

  'He isn't of the Serpent,' Alaran said. 'You can sense the evil in Those of the Serpent. But,' he frowned, 'he's strange. I don't think I've ever sensed anyone quite like him before.'

  When Herra joined them, she wasted no time, but stilled the stranger. Before she removed the Compulsion, she sent the others ahead a little so as not to alarm him, then she sat down alone beside him, waiting for him to recover fully. A seated person was much less threatening than one standing over you.

  From her he did not shrink, or even try to run away. 'Are you the one?' he demanded, sitting up and pushing his bearded face forward towards her, eyes staring wildly. 'Are you really the one?'

  'Which one is that, my friend?'

  'She who carries light inside her, she who can move rocks, she who will free The Prisoners of the Mountain.' He intoned the words, swaying to and fro as he did so. 'I've dreamed of her often, but I could never see her face. Are you the one?'

  'I may be. Our Brother will decide.'

  'You carry the light inside you. I saw you using it on your staff to guide you, but the real light is

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  there behind your eyes.' He stared at her, his own eyes blinking a little, as if something were dazzling him.

  She had made only a soft glow at the end of her stick, but he was looking at her eyes as if he could see the light which seemed since Enhancement to fill her. Cheral said it spilled forth sometimes, making her eyes glow. Herra could not help that. It was part of her now. She sat on in silence, waiting to see what the man would do, not wanting to frighten him. His wits were clearly muddled, but there was no evil in him.

  'I think,' he said, rocking to and fro furiously, 'I think - ' he suddenly keeled over, and lay there breathing stertorously.

  She would have gone to help him, used her Healer's powers to see what was wrong, but she held back, for something else was present in the tunnel, something she could not see or even sense very clearly. What was it? She had never encountered anything that felt like this before.

  'Dissler is our voice, our eyes, our feet,' that something whispered, using the man's mouth, though he was still unconscious. 'Only through him can we see
your body, Herra of Tenebrak. But we can sense your spirit without any help, for it glows as brightly as a thousand torches.'

  When the voice paused, she asked, 'Who are you, my friend?'

  'We are the souls of the mountains, those who live within the rocks. We are different to you, very different indeed.'

  'Do you have a name for yourselves?'

  'We are the Petrigeist, a unity of souls.'

  'I don't understand what you mean by a "unity".'

  'All linked. Like - like a mesh within the rock itself.'

  'Do you know Quequere?'

  'What is Quequere?'

  'He is a crystalline being. He came here from another world. He lives in the rocks of the Sandrims, in the great Quoin there. But he can communicate across the Twelve Claims through the rocks under the ground.'

  'Aah. We must seek him, then, seek him.' The air around Herra seemed to thicken for a moment, then to clear again. She sat waiting, with that infinite patience developed during the long years of her life. She was astonished by the encounter and trying to understand what these Petrigeist were. It was so hard for the different species to understand one another. How could they be 'souls of the mountain'?

  Would they be able to explain themselves to her? Would they even want to explain what they were?

  And, most importantly of all, in her present predicament, would they be able to help her and her companions?

  Silence stretched around her. The air seemed to be clearing a little now, but she would give the Petrigeist more time. You could not hurry at such an important moment.

  Her mind wove its own patterns as she sat there, thoughts and questions tumbling one across the other. How many more life forms were there on this world of hers? After their escape from Temple Tenebrak, the deleff had taken them far to the west of the wildwoods, and there in the fabled Lands of Nowhere they had met the SS'Habi, creatures like giant spiders who served the older deleff, the ones who had done with travelling the Twelve Claims. Later the Kindred had encountered the great sentient trees in the Tanglewoods, trees which could grow new limbs in seconds and which had caused three babies to grow into young adults overnight.

  Davred and his people had come to Sunrise from other worlds far across the skies, and who knew what lay out there. And so had the crystalline creature, Quequere, who lived on the Sandrims. How many more beings were there living on Sunrise, unaware of each other? How had that happened? What had drawn them here? For she was very sure that it could not have happened by chance. Was there something special about her world?

  There was silence for so long that she wondered whether she might inadvertently have offended the Petrigeist. 'If we have invaded your home, my friends, then I ask your pardon, but we're fleeing from evil and we needed to take refuge in the caves below the mountain.'

  'Aah!' Another long-drawn-out sigh that seemed to echo round the cavern, echo and re-echo.

  The last echo faded into the shadows. The man stretched before her on the ground did not move, except for his mouth, which continued to form the words of the Petrigeist.

  'You are indeed the one,' the words whispered and echoed through the dark tunnels, for all they were so softly spoken. 'And you are the only one who has ever apologised to us for trespassing in our domain. Others come and rip out the rocks, with no heed to what they are doing. Yes, yes, you are the one. You walk delicately among us, treading with care. Even Dissler did not apologise when he fled to us.'

  Again there was a pause while the echoes of the voice - or was it echoes of the Petrigeist's thoughts inside her head? - lost themselves in the distance, then Dissler stirred, sat up and looked at Herra. 'I am to guide you. That's why I'm here. To guide you.'

  'Can you show us the way out of the caves?'

  He shook his head. 'No. Not yet. Only the Petrigeist can make you a way out through the stone barriers. And anyway, first we must set the others free. Yes. Set them all free. Every last one. Their pain hurts the Petrigeist.'

  'What others?'

  But he could not, or would not answer, just stood there, with his head moving slightly from side to side and his eyes fixed on some inner visions she could not share with him.

  As they walked on, they occasionally heard the rock groaning and grinding around them. The first time, the children called out in fear, thinking they were about to be crushed under a landslide.

  'There's no danger,' Dissler said. 'No danger here.'

  'What's the noise then, my friend?' Herra asked.

  'The Petrigeist are moving, changing things, seeking things.' He waved one hand. 'They're all around us as we walk, watching that we don't do any harm.'

  But he would not say more or explain anything he had said. It was so tantalising, Herra thought, to get a glimpse of another species. She wished times were better, so that she could really explore her own world. Then she remembered the many explorers, whose tales were told in the temple Archives, who had gone out into the wildwoods with just that purpose and been turned back by something strange and unseen just beyond the borders of the Twelve Claims.

  Once in a while the boundaries would shift and the next generation of explorers would find

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  themselves able to travel a little further into the wildwoods, able to found new settlements. But never, throughout the long years during which the Sisterhood had been keeping records, had people been able to explore their world fully. Was that because of the deleff? Or was there something else, something whose powers went far beyond those of the deleff? Not her Brother the God, but some unseen power.

  She was beginning to think so.

  By nightfall, or what would have been dusk if they had been outside, they were all feeling tired. The darkness seemed to weigh down on everyone, making them feel wearier than they would normally have been. Even Herra felt it.

  'Come a little further,' Dissler said, taking hold of her arm and pulling her forward. 'They've prepared a cavern where you can spend the night. We'll go and set the others free tomorrow. They're in sore trouble. Oh, yes, sore trouble. And those who keep them here are hurting the peace of the mountain. But one night more of captivity will make little difference. Come.' And after that he would not speak, only beckon her to follow. In her turn, she beckoned her young companions, smiling at them encouragingly. 'Not much further. Be patient.'

  The cavern to which Dissler led them was large enough for everyone to lie down, and had a sandy floor with a small spring welling in one corner. It was almost as if it had been made for them. They measured out some more of their dwindling provisions, ate them and then lay down. Herra noticed that Purvil and Jiran seemed to have forgotten their animosity, and that they and Daranna stayed mostly together. She noticed that the other children lay close to one another, some holding hands, even as they slept, as if desperately afraid. Some of them were as young as five or six, young enough to need such comfort sorely.

  Dissler woke Herra by shaking her shoulder. 'It's nearly morning, lady. Time to set off again.'

  'Give us a few moments to wake the children and feed them.'

  He drew in a breath, rocked to and fro a little, then said, 'Don't take long. Hurry, please! The others are in trouble. More bad things happened in the night. You're needed now. This is the day. And you are the one. Oh, yes. The one who carries light within her.'

  This time Herra asked Ivo to join her and Davred at the head of the file of children, leaving Alaran, Soo and Jiran at the rear. If they ran into trouble, she wanted the strongest people to meet it with her and help protect the children. Dissler led the way, seeming to need no light to find his path through the darkness. As they moved, she began to sense something. She shuddered. Something evil lay ahead of them. Those of the Serpent again. And as always, there were spreading pain and terror. A great deal of pain. For the Serpent god fed and grew stronger on pain and fear. She exchanged glances with Davred.

  'I sense it, too,' he whispered.

  She looked at Purvlin, who had brought a cu
dgel with him into the caves, though where he had found it, she could not think. 'There's trouble ahead.' She didn't tell him to stay back. He was a sturdy lad. He might be needed.

  He nodded. 'It could be those who work in the mines.' He hesitated, then added, 'My father might still be among them. And my uncle and cousin, too.'

  She held up one hand to halt the others. 'You didn't tell us about this before, Purvlin.'

  'I didn't think we'd be going so far into the mountains, but who knows where we'll come out after such a long walk? There are mines in the next valley to ours. Those of the Serpent force people to work in them. And they keep people locked up in the caves the rest of the time. That's why a lot of us ran away. You don't live long, if you work in the mines, especially the children. It's not like it was in the old days. My grandfather was proud to be a miner once.'

  'What do they mine?'

  'Iron. People used to use it for cooking pots, knives and nails, but Those of the Serpent want it mostly for weapons. The mines in Kelandra don't produce nearly enough for their needs now and there's a rich lode in these hills. It's deeper than the iron in Kelandra, my father says, running back into the hillside, but it's good iron and they roll the ore down the hillside on tracks.'

  Herra looked thoughtful. If she and her companions could cut off the source of the iron that had helped in the past to make the Lords Claimant of Setheron rich, then they might also strike at Sen-Sether's fighting capacity. 'Pass the word back to the children to be ready to fight, would you, Purvlin?

  The bigger ones should come to the front.'

  'They could pick up bits of rock to throw,' he offered. 'Even the little children could carry pieces and pass them forward if needed.'

  How strange to hear one chosen to join the Kindred speaking so easily of fighting! she thought.

  Perhaps that was Purvlin's Gift. If so, it was a new type of Gift, and was probably needed. New Gifts often developed in times of need. In the past the Sisterhood had been too weak, too permissive, and had eschewed fighting. The Kindred must deal with the Serpent from a position of strength - but they should never use violence first. Of that she was quite certain. Nor should they ever relish violence and fighting.