by Alison Baird
“That is Elmera’s world,” the apparition said. “It escaped the cataclysm that laid my Numia waste. Thou seest now how my lands once appeared. But the enemy of the Light dispatched Azarah to bring discord to the heavens. It sent the comets flying toward the inner worlds, and this my satellite realm was destroyed, and Mera came near to utter destruction. It may not so escape again. And Arainia too is in peril.” A vision filled Ailia’s mind. She saw all the world of Mera turned to burned and blackened desert under Numia’s glow—lifeless as the moon above it. Then Arainia and its moon also came under the siege, and she recoiled in horror from the images she beheld: the forests withering, the oceans turning to ice, under a sky reddened with dust and fumes that shut away the sun.
Was the being warning her to keep on fighting? That if she did not go on with this war, Mera—and Arainia—could end as Numia had? And these worlds were not alone in their peril, for she saw now in her mind the tree-cities of the dryads, the age-old bark and fresh greenery of their living roofs and walls alight with wildfire. She saw a world of blending blue and purple hues of hanging mists and still waters: the world of the Tarnawyn, and it too was overrun. The beautiful creatures bounded through the woods, tearing the vapors asunder with their horns while the mist drops flew from their white coats like scattered diamonds. Barguests—huge black dogs with red eyes—pursued the unicorns while jubilant goblin-hunters followed. Then Ailia beheld a place of strange high mounds and columnar shapes all riddled with holes, thousands of holes set close together, so that the red-brown, rock-hard stuff of which the mounds were made resembled a honeycomb: and in and out of these openings there came and went in torrents hundreds of six-legged creatures like ants. She might have thought they were ants indeed, for she could get no sense of scale; but she saw the strange, furred heads that were more feline than insectlike, and knew these to be myrmecoleons, ant-lions, each bigger than an ox. They were swarming out of their mounds to attack an oncoming army of goblins and ogres and great trolls. The queen, a majestic creature twice the size of her drones, stood looking out of the highest opening atop the nearest mound. The armies were fighting to protect her, but they had no weapons apart from their claws and jaws. “These are not glimpses of the future,” the apparition’s voice said to her as the last image faded, “but things that are happening now. Those beings pledged their allegiance unto thee, and now they suffer for it. Do not fail them!”
Ailia bowed her head. “I understand,” she said.
The scene swam before Ailia’s eyes, dissolved into a mass of blended color that wavered and faded away. She blinked. She still sat the throne, but the pearly light was gone: the palace was once more a bone-white shell hung with gray gloom. She had actually wandered in body as well as in spirit into the old Archon ruin. Elnumia—if it were truly she—was gone. But a whispering voice lingered on the dusty air. Seek thou the lands of Elarainia in her sphere. She will give thee power to defeat thy foes.
Slowly Ailia climbed down from the throne and walked out the great door.
ARKURION’S SURFACE WAS LIKE A cauldron of molten metal, harshly brilliant, semiliquid and seething, all a rich yellow in color. Auron’s and Lorelyn’s ethereal forms skimmed over luteous flats and bubbling lakes of lava. The light of the huge white-hot sun shrieked out of the blazing sky.
If we were here in the flesh, Auron said, and without any shielding magic, we would swiftly die of the fumes. And the glare would burn your eyes out.
Why is everything so yellow? asked Lorelyn.
It is all made of sulfur. It rains acid instead of water here too—most unpleasant. But the salamanders like it. Their bodies are thickly plated to keep out the acid and the burning rays of the sun.
Why do they bear wool, then? Doesn’t it make them warmer?
No, the wool has a cooling effect, in fact. The sun strikes only its upper surface, and does not penetrate down to the lower layer of the fleece, thus keeping the heat away from the body.
As they flew by one caldera it erupted, spraying a geyser of caustic liquid into the livid clouds. The world’s entire landscape was a molten mass of yellow sulfur flats and reeking pools. The cones of the volcanoes would soon collapse and new ones form: the surface of Arkurion was perpetually shifting and reshaping itself. Lorelyn wondered what it would be like to inhabit such a place—a landscape with no permanent points of reference, where nothing ever lasted. What effect might that have on the salamandrine mind? Suddenly the steaming lake nearest them began to froth and churn in one spot. Out of the surface a yellow snout appeared, and a wet glistening back; and then the whole creature hauled itself ashore. The salamander was about twelve feet long and lizardlike in appearance, with a squat build and tapering tail, four stumpy legs, and a long narrow head. Lorelyn noted the thick fleece of what looked exactly like sodden wool on its back.
The creature spoke in a hissing voice, and in their heads Auron and Lorelyn heard the words: Who are you? Why do you project your image here, Loänan? And why do you bring a human with you?
Friend, we have need of your aid, Auron said. Mera and Arainia are in danger. Valdur’s servants threaten them.
The outer planets—ugh! So far from the sun, so chill and inhospitable! Though it is said they have some very pleasant regions deep down, near their molten cores. The salamander glared at the human with round dark eyes like hemispheres of smoked glass. So do their peoples flee here? Will we now have to compete with humans for living space?
Lorelyn shook her insubstantial head. Oh, no. I can promise you that.
Are you certain? Who could resist such a lovely world as ours—the warm and fragrant air—the beautiful lakes?
Lorelyn, trying hard not to laugh, assured the creature that the humans would not colonize the sulfur planet. We couldn’t live here. We only came to ask you for your help.
Still the salamander seemed suspicious. You would draw us into this war? We are not fighters, and will not ever leave our world. Indeed we cannot live anywhere else. We would perish of the cold.
We don’t ask you to fight. But once before you shared your wonderful wool and silk with us, and your cast-off scales. We need to fight the firedrakes that are besieging our worlds, and not all our warriors are Nemerei.
My world is not threatened. The salamander moved toward its fuming pool again. The fates of yours do not concern our people. Your battles have never affected us, for humans and goblins and dragons cannot dwell in Arkurion and have no use for it. And so it is even now. No comet is aimed at us. This is not our war.
Auron said, Can you be so sure? The Valei may yet find a use for your people, and enslave them. Firedrakes could survive in this world. You do not know the Darklings as I do.
You cannot say for certain that they will enslave us. What is certain is that if we give you aid, then we will be the enemies of your enemies. They will have reason to harm us. You have heard of the fate that befell the sylphs, after their queen allied herself with your Tryna Lia? The burnings and killings in that world and others were meant as a warning to all the rest of us. Only if we keep to ourselves will we be safe. The salamander began to submerge.
Lorelyn wished Ailia were there: her skills of diplomacy were sorely needed. Lorelyn was accustomed to fighting with weapons not words. She tried to think what Ailia would say. But we need your help. If your world were in danger, we would give you whatever aid you asked.
You would? The creature’s voice was skeptical.
Yes, truly. That was the whole reason for Talmirennia—the Old Ones didn’t want all the worlds to be isolated and separated, but part of a larger whole. So we would come to one another’s aid in times of need.
The salamander lay still with its head just above the surface, like a crocodile. There was a long pause as it considered. Then it said, I will speak to the others, and see what they say. We have no rulers, such as you humans have. But I will tell my kindred what you have said. We will let you know our decision in a few days. It dived into the bubbling pool and was gone.
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br /> Auron and Lorelyn looked at each other. You have done all you could, said Auron.
She nodded. I suppose so. There are some who’d say we should take their wool and silk by force, because the need is so great. I am sure the Nemerei would find a way to come here, and fight them.
You are right in that. Sorcery makes all things possible.
But I don’t feel right about it. And I know Ailia wouldn’t approve. Still . . . whatever will we do if they don’t help us?
Continue the fight without their aid, said Auron, and hope that they see our cause is just, and relent. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. First we must wait and see what the salamanders decide. Let us return to our bodies, and offer what help we can to our friends in the meantime.
8
The Country in the Clouds
“WHY? WHY DOES SHE RETREAT?” Mandrake roared in his dragon’s voice. “The fate of Mera lies yet in the balance. The Emperor is too weak to defend his realm and title. Now is the time for her to accept the throne he offered. Why then has she retreated to her own world, and to the wilderness? I have been to those lands: there is nothing there.”
The red dragon stood on the frozen face of the largest comet, protected from the bitter void about him by an enchanted bubble of air and warmth. Above him Arainia shone, suspended over an icy cliff and limning it with the light of her rings and her blue orb. The dark forms of firedrakes circled in the black sky, scarcely visible save when they eclipsed the stars or scudded across the planet’s gleaming disc. With Mandrake stood a small company of his rebel Loänan, including the monarch of the earth-dragons, Torok. Elazar and Elombar were also present in ethereal form, drifting before his face.
The latter said, “Our spies say that she has gone to seek the Archons of that world—her mother in particular.”
The dragon gazed up at the ringed world. Might there be Archons living still? Even I have not seen all that there is in the cosmos . . . But no, I have seen all there is to be seen in Arainia. Had there been any Archons dwelling there I would have found them. “No, she knows the Old Ones are gone from Arainia. And her mother perished while delivering her to Mera. What could be of greater importance to Ailia than fighting on in Mera, or seeking and claiming the Imperial throne? I should go to Arainia myself and see.”
“What would be the use?” said Elazar. “Lord Prince, it is to Ombar that you must go, to take the throne of Valdur. Then you must seek for Orbion, to seize the Dragon Throne. You cannot fight the Tryna Lia on her own ground.”
“Hear him, Mandrake!” growled Torok, stretching his scarlet-scaled neck toward the Dragon King. “His counsel is good. Let the Tryna Lia cower in her own world if she wishes. We can take all of Talmirennia for ourselves meanwhile.”
“Not yet. First I want to see what my adversary is about. She knows that I can take the Dragon Throne, yet it does not seem to trouble her. Of course, the safety of her world and people means more to her than any throne—and she can always fight me for it later. Yet she seems to feel that she can defend Arainia even without her army and her Nemerei, whom she has sent to liberate Mera. Why? What is it she hopes to find in Arainia that gives her so much confidence? Perhaps she has learned of some relic or talisman that might aid her in the battle to come?” The dragon paused, and then turned to the two demons. “Should your plan fail, may I suggest another? I am sure you would enjoy smashing Arainia into oblivion, but what would you say if its virgin forests and fine cities were instead to become home to your goblins and the other Valei? Would it not be an even greater triumph than mere obliteration, if the Elei were to see their beloved world overrun by the enemy? Why should we not take that world for our own?”
Elazar answered, “You do not understand. The powers in Arainia will be ranged against us, should we go there. The Archons—”
“Not again,” said Mandrake. “Powers there are in that world, without a doubt, but I do not believe them to be Archons. They are Nemerei, many of them great ones, but none a match for me, and the armies you have given me. Whatever Ailia’s hope may be, it is in vain. She will not drive me away a second time.”
“But Arainia is the seat of Ailia’s strength,” the demon countered. “That is why she has gone there.”
“All the more reason to deal with it first, and its ruler too. Cut off the head and you have little to fear from the body. Come, are you afraid? Let us go to the moon at least, to Miria. It will be a better base for our ships and our firedrakes than this airless mass of ice. From that point of vantage we can commence a siege of Arainia.”
AILIA STOOD GAZING ON Hyelanthia, the Country in the Clouds. The table mountains that made up this fabled Arainian land were so huge and high that they blended into the sky itself, swathed about with cumuli that looked hard and heavy as marble—more solid, indeed, than the distant summits they enfolded. The largest plateau was enveloped in a single cloud, its heights invisible. The Place of the Mother, the Elei called it—where the goddess Elarainia was believed to have held her mystical court. And held it still, according to some. The Queen of the World reigned in spirit, they said, with her divine court about her. Was this, Ailia wondered, merely a local myth? Well might the early Arainians imagine that cloud-clad height to be the earthly home of a deity. Or had an Archon ruled there long ago—the very same Archon who became Ailia’s mother? The “gods” of this world had been real, after all, living beings of flesh and blood who had practiced long-forgotten sorceries, altered their forms and toyed with the stuff of life itself.
It was good, at least, to be in her home world once more and in a warmer clime. She had exchanged her heavy clothing for a thin white gown with short sleeves, and her hair was bound in two braids that were snailed and pinned at the sides of her head, leaving her neck bare. The air was languid and sultry, with only the mildest of breezes blowing in off the sea; the sun was eastering in the deep blue sky above, where the Arch of Heaven hung like a visible celestial equator. High overhead hung a great comet, one of those sent by the enemy. It had not yet been turned, for it was well guarded. Inside its icy recesses Mandrake’s most dangerous servants waited, preparing to strike at the world. Rumor said that Mandrake himself was there, and so the Arainians feared the comet, calling it the “dragon-star.” Seeing it, Ailia felt her resolve strengthen.
“I must go to Arainia at once,” she had told her guardians on Numia. “The vision I had was true, and I must follow it. But I will not go to the city. Wherever I am, there the brunt of the assault will come. I can draw on Arainia’s power as easily in the wild places. I will go to Hyelanthia.”
“But Highness—you will be in great danger,” Taleera had objected.
“No greater danger awaits me there than in any other place,” said Ailia. “And there are Elei living near the forest of Ardana. It is my mother’s country.”
“You must take the Wingwatch with you—” her father began.
“No, the Wingwatch must stay here, to turn the comets. I will take only a few friends with me. And I will have other allies there, I think.”
“The Talmir,” said Falaar. “The Great Powers.”
“Perhaps,” said Ailia. “Or it may be that the Fairfolk will reveal some inborn skills we never guessed at. I will certainly not be alone.” Despite her determined words she had felt depression and fatigue like a poison seeping into her body, and she saw everything filtered through a veil of weariness. Everyone, she knew, was looking to her for inspiration, comfort and strength. They took life from her like plants seeking the sun. If only there were someone to fill her with strength!
She now returned her attention to the heights of Hyelanthia. Somewhere, in the midst of those concealing clouds, the Archons had planted forests, where nothing should have been able to grow: ambrosia trees and others unique to those impossible elevations. The cloud-forests had long since died, but traces of them remained to this day. The Elei in this land had shown to Ailia a piece of amber carried down to the lowlands by a waterfall. It was of a rare, crystal-clear
variety, which the finder had carved into a perfect globe. In its depths a fossil flower of elder days bloomed eternally, pale petals still spread to the light. That blossom had grown in the gardens of the gods, they said, when the Old Ones were still in Arainia—when the dragons were just beginning to fly between the stars—when her own race had not yet arisen. All of human history had yet to unfold when it first opened and breathed forth its unknown, lost fragrance. What other wonders had that long-ago land held, that myths knew nothing of? Ailia craned her neck, staring up at the plateau of the goddess. As she gazed, the cloaking clouds parted in one place, and she saw a lone pinnacle of rock: on it there gleamed in the sunlight, like inverted icicles, what looked like several towers or obelisks of adamant. Then the vaporous rift closed once more upon the pinnacle, and the crystalline shapes were lost to sight once more.
The goddess . . . Elarainia . . . My mother . . . How to separate the lore from the flesh-and-blood woman? Had she truly been an Archon, and if so, did she live still? Had she returned to this place where she had once lived in human form? In the southern face of the easternmost plateau there was a cave screened by a wide waterfall, and behind its cool curtain lay a floor of soft moss: Elarainia’s old dwelling place. But it was abandoned still, and Ailia had found nothing there belonging to her mother, save a little pile of stones and seashells that might or might not have been left by her long ago. Some of the Elei here remembered her, but they had little more to tell Ailia than she already knew: that Elarainia had lived alone, that she had been accompanied more often by animals than by her human beings, that she knew all there was to be known about the wild plants of the forest and their various properties. Though Ailia had never been to this place, still she felt that she belonged here.
