Above the Veil

by Garth Nix

  "We have to time this bit carefully," said Gill. "Wait for the backflow."

  "Backflow of what?" asked Tal.

  "The crystal," said Gill. "This is forge country."

  "Close it, Gill, and see whose shift is on and how long till the backflow," Crow ordered suddenly.

  Gill sniffed and edged up to the corner. As soon as she stuck her head around, her skin was bathed in the yellow-blue light, so she seemed to have changed color. She looked for a minute and then ducked back.

  "It's the Thrower and his gang," Gill reported.

  "I reckon the backflow's not far away. The crystal's already changing color."

  Her mention of the Thrower's name was met by groans from the other Freefolk, except for Crow. He simply frowned slightly and kept looking at the spill of light around the corner.

  "Who is this 'Thrower'?" Milla asked. "Is he an enemy?"

  "Not exactly," explained Clovil. "He's a Fatalist, like most of them--"

  "Close it!" snapped Crow.

  "Close it yourself!" Clovil snapped back. "Like I said, he's a Fatalist, what you call an Underfolk. They think we're all meant to work for the Chosen, that's the way life is meant to be--"

  Crow made a threatening move toward Clovil, who immediately closed his mouth with a grimace. He opened it again once Crow had stepped back.

  "We call him the Thrower because he throws liquid crystal at anyone who interferes with the work."

  "Liquid crystal?" asked Tal. "What's that?"

  "You'll see!" Crow announced. "It's going green. Get ready to run, everyone. Tal and Milla, stay exactly behind us. Don't leave the path."

  The light ahead was changing, going from the yellow-orange into a cooler green. When only a few flickers of color remained and the light was nearly all green, Crow shouted, "Backflow!"

  Clovil and Ferek suddenly leapt forward and rounded the corner at a run, the others close behind.

  They burst out into a huge cavern. Tal had only a moment to take it all in before he had to concentrate on following the Freefolk.

  A narrow, meandering path was appearing in the center of a huge sea of molten green crystal that was ebbing back toward the sides of the giant cavern. Heat rolled off the crystal in shimmering waves, but it was bearable. Tal couldn't work out why they hadn't all been incinerated immediately, as surely such a lake of molten crystal would have set their clothes alight at least. Then he saw the enormous, ancient Sunstones in the ceiling and the light that they projected.

  The Sunstones were melting the crystal liquid at each side of the cavern, but they were also cooling this central path. Other Sunstones were projecting lines of blue force that stirred the crystal, creating eddies and currents.

  There were other safe paths appearing as the liquid ebbed, paths that formed around deep pools of crystal. Underfolk clad in heavy protective robes and boots, hurried out along the paths to scoop molten crystal from the deeper pools with long-handled ladles. Once their ladle was brimming with liquid crystal, they ran back to one of the three raised islands that were permanently safe from the molten mass. On the island, they poured the liquid crystal into a waiting mold and then ran back out for more.

  Tal was busy looking at what the Underfolk were doing and didn't realize he'd fallen behind until he heard Gill scream at him, "Hurry up!"

  At the same time, he felt one of the Sunstones above switch off. Without its beneficial blue light the temperature shot up until it was searing. Tal jumped forward and sprinted to catch up with the others, who were just climbing onto the third island. As he landed, his leg spasmed and he half fell, half sat down. He pushed his thumbs into the muscle, grimacing in pain.

  "Let me do that," said Adras, reaching his huge, puffy shadow-fingers down. Tal hastily pulled his leg away.

  "No! No! You'd probably break my leg."

  "This is halfway. We have to wait here for the next backflow," said Gill. "Let's hope the Thrower leaves us alone."

  Tal kept massaging his leg and looked out across the cavern. Molten crystal was flowing back across the path, and the light was once again growing more intense. It was cool enough on the island, but Tal could tell that this was totally dependent on a single, very old Sunstone. Looking around, he saw charred, corroded lumps of high ground. There had once been more than three islands, but their Sunstones had failed.

  "So this is where all the cups and plates are made," Tal said as he watched the Underfolk on the closest island turn the molds over and tap them to remove the highly durable crystal cups, plates, and other utensils he was so familiar with. "I had no idea."

  "You wouldn't," said Crow. "The robes and boots those people are wearing are nearly as old as the Sunstones in the ceiling. Do you know how many people burn to death here every year, just so some Chosen can have plates of different colors?"

  Behind him, Gill held up her thumb and forefinger to show "zero." Crow must have seen some hint of that in Tal's eyes, because he whirled around angrily. Gill's hand dropped instantly and she looked away. She was clearly afraid of Crow.

  "Dark take it," swore Clovil. "It's the Thrower."

  He pointed. Through the distorting heat haze above the steadily spreading crystal, now once again mostly a fierce yellow tipped with blue, Tal saw someone wading through the molten mass.

  "How's he--" Tal started to say, before he saw more clearly. The man was wearing the same sort of heavy suit that Tal had seen on the other Underfolk workers, but this one had active Sunstones worked into it. They were wreathing the figure in cool blue light.

  "The only armor that still works," said Clovil nervously. "I hope we get the backflow before he gets close enough to throw."

  It was slow going through the molten crystal. There were currents and deep holes that had to be waded around. But the Thrower knew them all, and he kept on coming. He carried one of the long-handled ladles over his shoulder.

  "Maybe he'll only warn us," said Ferek. He was twitching again.

  "He warned us last time," said Clovil. "He'll burn us for sure."

  "No he won't," said Crow. "Use your head." He gestured scornfully at Tal and Milla.

  "As soon as he sees these two with their Sunstones and Spiritshadows, he'll be licking their hands and wanting to show them around."

  Ferek sighed with relief and relaxed. But Clovil kept watching the approaching Underfolk. As the

  Thrower drew closer, he took the ladle off his shoulder and started scooping and throwing big globs of molten crystal in their general direction.

  "I don't think the Thrower can see too well," Clovil announced as one of the lumps of crystal splashed down twenty or thirty stretches short of the island. "He's pretty old and he's got a hood and goggles on."

  Another superhot glob of crystal hurled through the air, landing even closer.

  "I don't think he can see the Spiritshadows or the Sunstones at all," said Clovil, his voice growing more anxious as they all edged to the farthest point of the island. "How long to the backflow?"

  "A couple of minutes," said Crow calmly, looking at the color of the crystal.

  Even as he spoke, a lump of molten crystal crashed down on the other end of the island, exploding into sparks and spraying superhot fragments in all directions. Some came within a few stretches of the group. In response they all pressed up against one another on the far end.

  "Adras," Tal commanded, "you and Odris go out and tell this Thrower to stop. Stay above the crystal, and don't get hit if you can help it. Whatever you do, don't try to catch the crystal or bat it away. Since it's infused with Sunstone light it might be able to hurt you."

  "Really?" asked Odris. "We're better off staying here, then."

  Adras had already started to glide out, but she reached out one billowing shadow-hand and pulled him back by the ear.

  "Ow!" exclaimed Adras.

  The Thrower paused again to scoop up liquid crystal and then expertly hurled it. This time it splashed down to the left of the huddled group, off the island. They were struck wi
th tiny, falling sparks and specks of molten crystal.

  Everyone except Milla and Crow jumped and swatted at the burning specks, trying to get them off their clothes before they burned through to the skin.

  "Hurry up, Odris," snapped Milla. The Thrower was scooping up crystal again. "You're fast enough to avoid getting hit."

  "Oh, all right," grumbled Odris. "I know you just want to get rid of me, anyway."

  She launched herself up into the air, arms and legs losing definition to become more cloudlike. The cavern was so bright that her shadowflesh was well defined. She looked almost like she had back in Aenir, as a jet-black storm cloud.

  Adras followed her, but had to put one foot down on the island and give himself a boost to get into the air. Tal sighed as he saw the clumsy maneuver. Disobedient, not too clever, and clumsy--that was his Spiritshadow.

  The two Spiritshadows floated out toward the Thrower. He had the ladle out of the crystal and was twisting his body to start flinging when he saw the Spiritshadows coming his way.

  Surprised, he kept swinging the ladle back, until he lost his balance. He dropped the ladle, his arms flailed at the air, and then he fell backward--into the molten crystal. There was a huge splash, a hand clawed above the surface, and then he was gone.

  There was only the flowing crystal, color already changing to blue, and the heat haze shimmering above it.

  "He's dead for sure," said Clovil as he stared where only seconds ago there had been a man. "Even with the suit."

  The Spiritshadows returned and grew their legs down to walk on the island once more.

  "We didn't do anything," said Odris anxiously. "He just fell over."

  "He was throwing molten crystal at us," said Gill, without much conviction. For a supposedly blood-thirsty rebel, she seemed greatly shocked by this sudden accident.

  "Almost backflow," said Crow. He was the only one who seemed unconcerned. "Get ready. We have to get across the rest of the cavern this time."

  But everyone was still watching the point where the Thrower had fallen into the crystal. It was cooling now, turning blue-green, and the liquid was ebbing back. No one spoke, but obviously everyone was hoping that the Thrower would have somehow survived, that he would stand up.

  The molten crystal continued to flow back to the sides, and the paths started to appear. The Thrower's body became visible, a motionless lump, a tiny island.

  "The Sunstones are still working in his suit," said Tal, noting the blue glow. "Maybe we should help him up. He might be all right."

  "We haven't got time." Crow pointed to the path that was slowly appearing as the crystal retreated. "It's backflow now!"

  He started off to the far side of the cavern. The other Freefolk hesitated, then took off after him. Milla grabbed Tal by the arm and pulled him to follow.

  "There's no time," she said. "He was an enemy. The guards are still after us, remember. Come on!"

  Tal followed her. He couldn't work out why he felt so upset. The Thrower was only an Underfolk, and Underfolk died all the time. But it was all so sudden. One second he was alive, and then he was drowning in molten crystal…

  Perhaps he would still get up, after they'd gone. Perhaps his armor was good enough to keep him alive while he recovered his strength…

  Tal's leg started hurting again then, and he had to focus his mind on running. It was a good two hundred stretches to the far side of the cavern, and the others were well ahead. Except for Adras, who kept pausing to look back.

  Once again, Tal felt the protective rays of the ceiling Sunstones begin to fade. The others were already climbing a steep stair that led out of the cavern. Suddenly the molten crystal began flowing back. Tal was fifty stretches short, and he had a moment of panic as a sudden surge of crystal flowed across the path. But it was narrow, and he managed to jump it and land without his leg giving way. Even so, he felt the heat, a sudden flash that would have been dangerous if it lasted for more than a split second.

  When he gained the steps, Crow looked down at him with a sneer.

  "Too much eating and not enough exercising," he said. "Typical Chosen."

  "Tal is wounded," explained Milla in a matter-of-fact tone. "A Waspwyrm sting to the leg."

  "A what?" asked Clovil.

  "Waspwyrm," said Tal. "In the spirit world, Aenir."

  "Aenir?" Clovil looked confused. "But I thought the Chosen's bodies stayed behind when they go to Aenir."

  "They do," said Tal. "But whatever happens there affects your body here."

  "Does it work the other way, too?" asked Crow, with a sudden intensity. "If a Chosen's body is hurt here when they're in Aenir, do they hurt there?"

  Tal looked at the glitter in Crow's eyes. It was clear that he really hated the Chosen.

  "Their bodies are guarded by their Spiritshadows here," Tal said shortly, not really answering the question.

  "But what if they weren't protected?" Crow continued. "Say I stabbed a Chosen's body, would he or she die in Aenir?"

  "They are guarded by Spiritshadows, so who knows?" replied Tal.

  "Maybe I'll find out one day," Crow taunted menacingly.

  "Enough talk," commanded Milla. "We can talk later. We need to find Ebbitt."

  Crow nodded and jerked his head at Clovil and Ferek, indicating that they should lead off again.

  The stair continued up almost to the top of the cavern, where it ended in a set of very large metal doors. They were slightly ajar, just enough for people to slip between, though someone as fat as Sushin would have trouble.

  Milla paused at the doors, brushing the dust from a small patch. As she'd thought, the doors were made of the same dull golden metal as the Icecarls' Ruin Ship, and Asteyr's Orskir, in the spirit world. Further evidence of the connection between the Icecarls and the Chosen, way back in distant times.

  Tal paused, too, but it was to look down at the forge country's molten sea. Even this high up, he could feel the heat coming off the crystal, and the counterbalancing cool of the Sunstones set in the ceiling, which was still higher than the top of the stair.

  He scanned the area near the central island, hoping to see some sign of the Thrower. But there was no one there. There were only Underfolk on the other islands, busy at their work.

  It was possible that the Thrower had gotten up and made it back to one of those other islands as they climbed the stairs. But it was unlikely.

  "Tal."

  It was Milla calling. She waved her hand, telling him to hurry.

  Tal kept looking. Adras was next to him, looking down as well.

  "Pretty colors," said Adras. "Like rainbows."

  Tal couldn't see anything pretty in the molten crystal. Just the memory of a human hand clawing for support, desperate for help, the last action of a dying man as he sank beneath the burning surface.

  "Tal!"

  "I've never seen anyone die," whispered Tal. "Not like that. So suddenly."

  Milla came back, frowning. But it was not a frown of anger.

  "Death is the end of a song," she explained quietly. "But it is not the end of all songs. Here, a man has died. Somewhere, in your castle or out upon the ice, a child has been born. One song ends, another begins."

  Tal looked at Milla. She had surprised him again.

  "Did you just make that up?"

  "No," replied Milla. "I learned it, long ago. Hurry up!"

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Freefolk led them through another maze of narrow passages, all of them dark. Some were partially flooded, requiring wading. Others were packed with long-forgotten boxes and barrels, rotting away in the darkness. Occasionally bright patches of luminous mold shone like pale beacons, and once a Sunstone flickered high on a wall, a stone in its dying days.

  They saw no other Underfolk and it was clear that the paths Crow chose were rarely used by anyone. More than once, Clovil and Ferek hesitated before a choice of ways, and there was a quick conference with Crow before they moved off again.

  After several hours, t
hey climbed down a switch-backed series of rough-hewn steps, to enter a large cavern with a sandy floor. Crow led them to the center and declared they would take a rest.

  "We don't need a rest," said Milla. "We need to meet with Ebbitt. Then I have to go on."

  Tal didn't say anything. He needed a rest. His leg was aching and he wanted to take the pain away with some healing light. He gratefully sat down on one of the stones Crow had indicated in the center of -the cavern and stretched out his leg.

  The others kept standing, a few stretches away. Adras slid over and copied Tal, stretching out his puffy leg.

  "My leg hurts, too," he announced.

  Odris came over to look at it, while Tal focused on his Sunstone to summon a Blue Glow of Healing. It wasn't as powerful as the full Blue Ray, but at least it would take the pain away.

  Concentrating on the light magic, Tal didn't really pay attention to what the others were doing. Milla was arguing with Crow about the delay, and the other Freefolk had drifted over to stand behind him, except for Inkie, who had wandered over to the far side of the cavern and appeared to be looking at the rock wall.

  Tal was unprepared when, in midsentence, Crow leapt forward and pushed Milla as hard as he could. She flew back, turning into a flip as she fell. She landed on her feet, knife suddenly in her hand.

  Before she could do anything, Crow shouted, "Now!"

  Even before he shouted, Inkie pulled a concealed lever in the wall.

  The floor below Tal suddenly opened, sand cascading down. Tal yelled and tried to jump up and across, but it was too late.

  The whole center of the cavern was a trapdoor. Tal went down with the cascading sand, Adras following him with an excited shout.

  Milla was quicker. As the floor shifted, she threw herself forward and got a handhold on the lip of the huge trapdoor--but she had to drop her knife. Odris flew up behind her, and gripped her around the waist, easily lifting her onto solid ground.

  Crow charged her immediately, with Clovil and Gill coming on each side. Ferek ran around the outside, yelling excitedly.

  Milla met Crow's charge with a flurry of punches and kicks. Crow surprised her by blocking or dodging most of them, until she got a lock on his arm and used it to swing him around to collect a blow from Clovil.