“It’s a city!” he blurted aloud.
“Carved into solid rock,” Kirin agreed in an awed voice.
Terrell gazed around with dawning understanding. “Aha. This must be the Stone City that was ally to Azerin during the Twins War. The stories say it was destroyed when God raised the Scarp, but evidently only the road disappeared.”
Jina the fortune teller smiled at them. “Welcome to Artep, home and heart of the People—we who you Silbaris call Duermus. You know us only as minstrels and corpse carriers and shepherds.” She raised her head proudly.
The old man led them into a little plaza tucked into a bay in the canyon wall, then through an arch in a high wall and up a flight of stairs. A roofless room at the top held two men and two women sitting on a curving stone bench raised on a dais. Behind them the towering canyon wall had been carved into a huge bas-relief of the many-armed swirl that signified the One God. The old man joined the waiting elders and Terrell found himself the target of five pairs of eyes.
Not one of them smiled.
Terrell shared the sensation when Kirin’s stomach went queasy as the realization struck him. *Dung on a stick! Terrell, we’re standing on a stage!* Kirin’s left hand flicked out in a gesture at the five watchers. *And this is the toughest crowd I’ve ever seen!*
*Do they expect us to perform somehow?* hazarded Terrell, examining the elders as they conferred with the old man. Their language sounded almost familiar, yet he couldn’t understand it.
*I don’t think my juggling tricks are going to be enough.* Kirin commented ruefully as he moved a little closer to Terrell. *You got any idea what the lines of this play are supposed to be?*
Terrell frowned. The old man had said the elders were going to make a decision, but he hadn’t offered them a chance to speak yet. *Not enough clues to say.*
Kirin gulped. *So we improvise? I hate that.*
*You’ve done pretty good at it so far,* Terrell pointed out, realizing as he spoke how true it was. *Found your way to Silbariki, got me out of shackles, fought off Fenman and his man, saved us both from a flood and then from being murdered by Herrip. If this is how you improvise, I want to see something you’ve actually planned.*
Kirin shrugged. *I had to do those. You’re the only way I can save my father.*
Terrell sensed the reticence behind that declaration. Truth—but not all of it. Then again, I’d be a fool to expect more. He’s still a peasant and I’m a noble, and he knows it.
Herrip had approached the Elders, gone down to one knee and spoke to them in a ringing voice. The words sounded like Silbari but Terrell still couldn’t understand most of them. It has to be a different dialect. After a moment Herrip got up again, bowed, and went to stand against the left wall of the room beyond Kirin. Jina took his place, again an incomprehensible conference, then she also rose, bowed, and moved to the right wall.
Terrell glanced from her to the elders, who still spoke among themselves. How close were they to settling his fate? Should I interrupt? But that could offend them when I can least afford it. Still, I can’t passively wait here!
“I am not your enemy,” Terrell told the five elders, breaking their conversation and drawing their eyes to him again. “You fear loss of your people’s freedom, and loss of this too-small oasis of comfort that you tend so carefully. I want neither. Instead I offer the same just lordship to you that I pledge to all of the realm. Slavery will remain banned in Silbar, your people shall not be carried off by Gwythlo or Klinto slavers any more, and I will punish any that try. Your lands will remain your own, and the only tribute I demand is that you defend both yourselves and the other peoples of Silbar against the enemies of us all. You are not mighty enough to stand against Silbar’s millions, but you can stand with them and share their might as your own.”
“Promises,” remarked a male elder. “Such have been made to us before—and broken.”
The woman on the end of the row had not been participating in the discussion, but watching Terrell and Kirin instead. Before he could respond, she frowned and said accusingly, “It is as Jina claims. They speak to each other mind-to-mind, as did the two who ruined us.” A murmur went through the five elders and their gazes became, if anything, sharper.
Terrell’s skin prickled. If the fortune teller is the one who told them, then either she’s very observant, or she knows through arcane means, or she can hear us. “Oh wise woman of the Duermu,” he dared to ask, “Who are these two that you mention?”
“The twin princes,” the old woman answered, staring at him rather like an owl. Which Terrell remembered was also a predator.
The conversation among the others intensified and she leaned over to join it.
*Who?* Kirin asked, baffled.
*She has to mean Azerin and Zablock,* Terrell sent. *The Stone City of legend was caught in their war and it went badly for them, as it did for everybody. They must have been promised aid in recovering, aid that never came.*
*But the past isn’t our fault!* Kirin answered indignantly. *Besides, I’m no prince!*
*Two good points. I wonder. Jina,* Terrell thought directly at her, *Can you hear our thoughts? Can the Elders?*
He waited a moment but neither she nor they responded, or even seemed to notice.
*That’s a relief,* Kirin mentally muttered.
*We’ve been careless,* Terrell thought at him. *We have both been making gestures as we would when talking aloud.*
*And Jina told the old woman to watch for that? Damnation, these people are too clever for a bunch of goat herders. Highness, I’m swimming out of my depth.*
At that moment the conference ended and the five sat up straight on the bench. Kirin sent nervously, *I think that’s your cue.*
The old man stared at Terrell. “Is it that device amidst your yellow hair that speaks thus mind to mind?”
“Not as you think.” Terrell gestured to the spider, careful not to actually touch it. “This is but a wicked tool of a mage who sought to enslave me and usurp my position. I have escaped his control with the aid of my companion, and I would remove his device if I dared. But that would leave a possibly fatal hole in my head. I need a skilled Healer to help me take it off.”
“Can it spy upon us?” Another elder demanded in heavily accented Silbari.
Terrell hesitated. “I do not believe so. I am using it to hear the orders he gives in my absence; if he knew I could do that, I do not think he would speak as freely as he does.” He hoped they found that more reassuring than he did.
Evidently not, from the consternation on their faces. Herrip smiled.
Terrell hurriedly cleared his throat and said, “Wise ones of the Duermu, my companion and I are at a disadvantage. You appear to have been told quite a bit about us, but we do not know how complete, or accurate, it may be. May we know what Herrip and Jina have told you?”
The fortune teller received a permissive gesture from the old man and turned to plant herself in front of him. “Herrip climbed the Skyrock and claims to have had a vision of a day to come when the Duermu are free of the Silbari Crown, as he thinks we were a thousand years ago. A vision which will only happen if neither of you,” her eyes flicked between Terrell and Kirin, “Takes Silbar’s throne. Should any of the rest of the Twenty become the next King, Emperor Osrick will crush the world in war, and he thinks we will own the ruins.”
Terrell frowned at her. “Skyrock? I’ve heard—wait. Neither of us?”
She nodded calmly. “One of you must become King for there to be peace.”
Terrell saw Kirin gape at her. “That’s crazy! I’m not even noble, never mind one of the Twenty!”
Herrip laughed. “I have Seen you at the Stone Throne with the Silbari crown in your hands, Black Eyes. What does that make you? And I have Seen the days that splay forward from that moment like blood spilled on stone if someone else becomes King. The Pale Seraphs will be well fed! Then we Duermu will finally stand free once more, as the God meant us to be.” He strode closer, stare
d hungrily into Kirin’s face. “Your deaths will make us great again.”
“No, you simply wish destruction on Silbar,” Jina contradicted angrily, stepping between Herrip and Terrell to his carefully-hidden relief. “And thus, you betray the gift of Sight that the God has given you.”
“No! I—have—Seen!” Herrip seized Kirin’s hand.
Terrell saw how Kirin jerked his arm back, but his hand couldn’t escape the Duermu’s fierce grip. The acrobat stiffened for a moment and then sagged as if the strength had been drained from his body. Terrell caught Kirin’s free arm to help him stay upright—and then sagged himself, as Herrip’s vision cascaded through Kirin into his own mind.
The Stone Throne blazing as if it were a lantern made of purple and gold. Kirin holding Silbar’s Crown aloft while strips of Shadow clothed him like a corpse-wrapping. Then Terrell himself holding it, purple light wreathing him too. Next someone else wearing the Crown without the purple light, a mélange of his Mother’s kin melting from one to another all through the Twenty as the Throne’s light faded through the spectrum toward a sullen red. Silbar’s purple-clad armies fighting soldiers in Imperial red on fields heaped with dead. Aretzo in flames, Gwythlo Castle broken and smoking, ships burning and cities and countryside laid waste across the length and breadth of the Empire and beyond. Duermus picking over heaped bones before gutted homes where orange trees withered in desolation. Many of the dying trunks had pitifully small skulls nailed to them.
“Not the only path,” Jina said as she grasped Terrell’s other hand. “See.”
Terrell’s vision changed. Armies dissolved like mist, Aretzo stood whole while children played and ships sailed in and out of her harbor. Atop the Hill of Sight Kirin and Terrell faced each other across the opalescent Throne, the Crown silver and purple on the seat between them. Shadow and Light, staring at each other.
“And then what?” Herrip sneered tauntingly. “He must still be your enemy, Black Eyes, as you must be his. Only one of you can rule.”
“Get away from me!” Kirin demanded, jerking his hand free.
His revulsion at the fanatic’s touch echoed in Terrell’s head, as did Kirin’s visualization of the things he might do if he were King, and could give anything in the world to his infant son.
He is tempted, Terrell realized, and felt a little colder.
“Do you want to live?” Herrip asked forebodingly. “Sooner or later he must move against you. Do you think you will survive if he is King?” In a cunning voice he added, “If a mage has enslaved him once, it may happen again. He must be a weak reed, to be so easily taken. Let us kill him now and your own path to the Silbari throne is clear!”
“No!” Kirin shoved the Duermu away. Terrell thought he was the only one present who understood the guilt in the acrobat’s voice as Kirin shouted, “You don’t know me, you don’t know him! This is moon-addled madness! I’m not one of the Twenty!”
Terrell resisted the temptation to agree. A tiny voice in the back of his mind clamored for attention that he didn’t dare spare. “You are wrong about both us and the One God,” he told Herrip, hoping the words were true. “Men are not pawns on a board. God grants us the power and right of learning and acting on our own. Visions only give us warnings, they don’t turn us into puppets.”
“Deny all you want,” Herrip answered serenely. He turned to the gathered elders. “Before us stand the two who will doom us to more years of subjugation. Jina denies the truth of my Seeing and counsels a timid caution in the face of God-sent opportunity. What say you, Elders of the Duermu? May I kill at least the yellow-haired Prince, who may be a spy for an unseen enemy behind him?”
From the looks on their faces at least two of the Elders leaned toward exactly that. Terrell tensed, wondering if he and Kirin could possibly fight their way out of this city. Relief swamped him when the other three shook their heads. Herrip smoothly continued, “Better still is to kill them both and launch our people on the path that will exalt us once more.”
“Or destroy us,” Jina said. “If we take their choice away from these two, usurp their fate solely to advance ourselves, it will be the One God’s ire that we draw, not Herrip’s imagined bliss. His vision will die stillborn along with our people. The only freedom we will gain is that of the grave. Resist the temptation to believe that murder solves all and ushers in our heart’s delight, for the blood guilt will instead curse us.”
The five Elders put their heads together. Herrip and Jina each retired to their respective sides of the room, leaving Kirin and Terrell alone in the middle again.
*Arrogant bunch,* Terrell grumbled silently, trying to choose the right words to speak next. Having to admit to the spider’s effect had surely weakened his already scant chances. He wanted to know if that Skyrock place was indeed—
*Herrip’s mad!* Kirin insisted defensively. *You know I can’t become King; the crown would kill me for trying. It has to be you.*
*But he had such a clear vision,* Terrell fretted, juggling several thoughts in his mind at once. *Why does he think you could take the crown? Is your shadow power stronger than the Stone Throne?* That idea alarmed him in a way that the mere threat of death had not.
Kirin shook his head. *I don’t think it can be. My Shadow’s afraid of the Throne, or at least, it leans away from it when I’m near the Hill.* Kirin’s mind again touched on things he’d do if he were King; hire a nursemaid for his son, free Pieter and all the mine slaves, execute Ap Marn, give all the Bazaar spaces back to their dispossessed tenants. Terrell could tell the acrobat strained to sound certain as he sent, *This is crazy talk.*
Or maybe it’s not, Terrell thought uneasily. *His vision showed the Throne glowing purple for both of us, the highest degree of approval.* Terrell chased a stray thought but could not quite catch it.
Kirin sent back incomprehension; the young acrobat had no idea how the Stone Throne operated.
Before Terrell could formulate an explanation, the Elders finished their talking. The old man they’d met at the pond pointed at both of them and said, “We have decided. Ordinarily we would kill any Silbari or Gwythlo who came into our valley uninvited as you did. But the God’s plans are not to be trifled with by mortals, so we will take the great risk of freeing you both. We forbid either of you to be slain, and we require of you no oaths or promises in return.”
Herrip’s face went completely expressionless, but his hands clenched into fists before he relaxed into leopard-like waiting. Jina smiled. Terrell knew relief, then thought but? I can hear a ‘but’ in there.
The old man continued, “By your actions alone will we see if this decision be wisdom or folly. Know only that the curse of the People will follow you both if either of you prove false to Yellowhair’s words. Meanwhile you two cannot stay here, where your mere presence will sow further division. You may choose a destination and we will order you taken to the edge of our lands nearest to it; but you must choose now.” He clapped his hands three times.
Herrip bowed to the elders and stalked out. Jina came over to Terrell and beckoned him and Kirin to follow her. They left by the same stair they entered, only now the courtyard outside had been filled by tribesmen who seemed to favor Jina. Terrell noted the way Herrip and his men filed into a different cavelike dwelling with more than a few sharp glances back at him.
Kirin let out a relieved breath as his pack and their weapons were returned. “So that’s it? We can just go?”
Jina’s smile faded and she nodded her head. “I will guide you out.”
“Can you show us the quickest route to Sulmona?” Kirin asked urgently.
“Wait,” Terrell interrupted. “This Skyrock place, is it a sharp mountain with a Node inside it?” Kirin frowned at him for an instant, then listened.
“A node; that is what you Silbaris call a well of magic?” Jina answered. “Yes, the roots of Skyrock drink from the eternal springs under the Skin of the World. We Duermus have woven much magic from that well.”
“That’s whe
re we need to go,” Terrell told her firmly. “Also, is there a Healer that I could beg help from, to get this cursed thing off my head?” He made a gesture to the metal spider.
“Not here, and there is no time to fetch one.” She glanced back at the cave where Herrip had gone. “The elders want you gone and Herrip schemes. You must follow me now.”
“Ah.” Terrell nodded, swallowing his disappointment and matching her pace as she began walking. “Herrip has lost a battle but not a war?”
“Yes. We must get you out of here before he chooses his next attack. He will not disobey the Elders openly, but that does not make you safe. And two at least will not mourn if you die after all.”
Their way out of the hidden city lead up a narrow stair through another gate and then down a different canyon that twisted like a snake. Terrell guessed they had walked two miles down it when they paused at a dripping spring in a side alcove, all hung with green moss. While they all refilled water bags, Kirin’s mind flung questions at him.
“Terrell, what is this Skyrock place? Why are we going there?” The acrobat asked, striding along like a tiger lashing its tail. “Shouldn’t we head straight for Sulmona?”
“The legends I have heard say it’s a powerful node out here somewhere in the desert,” Terrell explained. “Inside a tall spire of rock.” He added a silent codicil. *If I can use it, I can summon aid that will get us to Sulmona in hours instead of days, and with a lot less walking.*
Terrell felt Kirin’s mind withdraw into uncertain acquiescence, and saved his breath for the walk. Jina set a fast pace, with occasional glances behind that showed just how much she feared Herrip.
Less than another mile later the twisty canyon opened into a vast basin. Terrell and Kirin shaded their eyes and squinted across the miles of sand. Out there loomed an immense pier of dark stone.
“Skyrock,” Jina confirmed before either could ask. “We must move quickly, the day already fades.”
Shadow and Light Page 49
