She replied without pause. ‘I have several. Many men want me, because of what I am. I choose who I desire.’
‘Will it always be that way?’ Shan said. ‘Will you ever settle down with one man, one day? What about children?’
‘Our people do not marry,’ she said. ‘It is against our beliefs. Marriage seems a selfish thing to us. But one day, yes, I will have children. I want a daughter to take my place here. That’s my little bit of selfishness. I don’t want another woman’s child to have this privilege.’ She smiled. ‘I can tell you this because you’re a stranger. I will never see you again.’ With these words, she swam to the water’s edge and climbed out, flinging her wet hair over one shoulder.
Shan followed her. He found Merlan lying flat out on a rock, his eyes closed, his mouth set into a smile. He no longer seemed debilitated. Shan poked him and he opened his eyes. ‘If only all spiritual lessons were like this,’ he said. ‘You, however, seemed to have been the chosen one here.’
Niree nudged him with her foot. ‘Don’t be jealous, sir. I’m quite sure Lileeka made your self-love delightful.’
‘It was a singular experience,’ Merlan said. ‘I saw her in the water, more animal than human. She swam around me, chittering with laughter.’
‘I’m not the chosen one,’ Shan said soberly. ‘Not exactly. Where are Taropat and Tayven?’
Merlan half sat up and twisted round. He glanced back at Shan, an eyebrow raised. ‘Healing waters?’
‘It would seem so. We’ll have to wait for them. Oh, for a good meal now!’
‘I don’t believe in abstinence,’ Niree said. ‘Everyone who makes it this far on the quest is always obsessed with it. It seems a needless martyrdom. Come back to Spelt with me. I’m due to dine with my father tonight. He is an excellent cook and would be happy for you to join us.’
‘You are certainly the temptress,’ Shan said. ‘Much as we’d love to, we can’t. We’ve made a promise to one another to abstain from food, and we’ve already broken it once. Now we should stick to it. Also, Taropat wants us to reach the fifth lake by tonight.’
‘Please yourself,’ Niree said. She wriggled into her dress. ‘Well, I must go or I will be late for dinner.’ She leaned down and kissed both Merlan and Shan on the mouth. ‘It was a pleasure meeting you. Good luck on your journey. I promise you, these will be the last pleasurable moments you’ll have for a while.’
With a careless wave, she climbed nimbly up to one the rock paths and disappeared, before Shan could even utter a goodbye.
‘Was she real?’ Merlan said.
Shan exhaled slowly. ‘Very much so. Come on, we’d better dress.’
‘I don’t feel that hungry now,’ Merlan said as he pulled on his trousers. ‘It’s strange, almost as if my body has moved beyond it.’
‘I hope I soon share your enlightenment,’ Shan said dryly. ‘At the moment, I could eat a rock.’
Merlan and Shan dozed beside the lake for a while, until they were awoken by voices. Shan saw that the shadows had lengthened considerably. It was late afternoon. Tayven and Taropat stood over them. ‘Sleeping?’ Taropat said, although his tone was light. ‘You are weak creatures, easily seduced.’
‘We dropped off waiting for you,’ Shan said. ‘Therefore it has to be your fault.’
‘We had some talking to do,’ Tayven said.
‘Is that what it was?’ Merlan remarked.
‘Of all of us, Uspelter’s lesson was for me particularly,’ Taropat said. ‘It was a lesson I should have been courageous enough to learn years ago.’
‘And have you learned it now?’ Shan asked.
He smiled reflectively. ‘Perhaps.’
Chapter Twenty-Two: In the Dark of the Weir
The playful mood of Uspelter stayed with them as they journeyed to the fifth lake, Malarena. Twilight fell as they climbed a wide path between ranks of lofty evergreens. Taropat lit a torch to illuminate the way. Softly, a different atmosphere insinuated itself among the group; tension. The jokes ceased, and all that could be heard was laboured breathing from the steep climb. They appeared to be walking into a waiting darkness; the forest clustered thickly at the crest of the path. Hunger gnawed at Shan’s stomach, and even Merlan, who earlier had professed to have conquered his pangs, complained of being starved.
‘Yes, we feel weaker,’ Taropat said, ‘for we’ve used a lot of energy, but our minds have entered into an altered state. We are more open to non-corporeal influences.’
Tayven, who was leading the group, suddenly halted in his steps. ‘Is that music?’
‘It sounds like wind chimes,’ Shan said, ‘wooden chimes.’
‘I can hear water too,’ Merlan said.
‘We are close.’ Tayven’s face looked strangely pale in the twilight. ‘The next two lakes are trials. We should be prepared for it.’
At the top of the incline the path levelled out. The woodland around them was dusty, the trees surrounded by bracken, both this year’s lush growth and the last year’s rusty remains.
‘This isn’t the landscape I expected to find here,’ Merlan said. ‘It’s so bleak. Surely the blue ray is that of creativity, even emotion.’
‘It is,’ Taropat answered, ‘but here the waters will be turbulent.’
As they approached Malarena, they found that many of the trees had been hung with long wooden chimes that clunked and tocked in the breeze. ‘Perhaps the guardian put them there,’ Shan said, ‘or pilgrims. Could that be the offering to Malarena?’
‘I doubt it,’ Taropat said.
‘Almorante and I didn’t give offerings at all before,’ Tayven said.
‘So what did happen here, then?’ Merlan asked.
Tayven shrugged. ‘The same as with the other lakes. Almorante invoked the water spirits. He asked for the essence of Malarena to enter into me.’
‘You must have felt something,’ Shan said.
Tayven nodded. ‘Yes, I felt the atmosphere here to be very dark. It is not joyous emotion like the earth site of Uspelter.’
They emerged from the trees by the lakeside. Malarena was surrounded by tall bull-rushes. Its surface appeared calm, but they could hear the rushing of a weir to the left. The shadowy shapes of rotting jetties poked out into the lake, but the only boats they saw were dilapidated, half sunk in the water.
‘It feels desolate,’ Shan said. ‘Dank. I don’t sense the presence of anyone near.’
‘Neither do I,’ Taropat said softly. He handed the torch to Shan, then walked along the lake shore and stood staring down into the weir. The others remained where they were, close to the forest path.
‘I don’t relish a night here,’ Merlan said. ‘I can imagine being taken in our sleep by hideous ghouls.’
‘That’s the next site,’ Tayven said gloomily. ‘Rubezal, the lake of spirit.’
‘Isn’t spirit the last lake, the seventh?’ Shan said.
‘No, Pancanara has no element specifically. It is the combination of all the others.’
‘Why should emotion and spirit be so bad?’ Shan asked. ‘I’d have thought that the further we travelled, the more spiritual the sites would become.’
‘We are human,’ Tayven answered shortly. ‘The deeper within ourselves we travel, the darker the experience. What we are seeking is transformation.’
‘You must be feeling pleased with yourself about the transformation at the last site,’ Merlan said.
Tayven lifted his upper lip into a sneer. ‘You are crude,’ he said. ‘Have you no care for your brother? Uspelter gave him a kind of peace, an understanding of his fears. We didn’t rush off into the undergrowth to rut like savages. If you must know, all that happened was that we went somewhere to talk, as I told you.’
‘But the offering to the lake,’ Shan said, as curious as Merlan was. ‘Didn’t you make one?’
‘Yes, but it was a spontaneous reaction to the emanations of pure love and joy that the lake imparts. We didn
’t create it together like you and Niree did.’
‘Right,’ said Merlan. He rolled his eyes at Shan. ‘If you want to put a spiritual gloss on it, that’s your prerogative.’
‘Funny, I thought we were here for spiritual reasons,’ Tayven said. ‘Clearly, we have different motives for this trip.’
‘Your motive is obvious,’ Merlan snapped.
Shan was wondering whether he should intervene to prevent another argument, when Taropat hurried back to them. ‘Look over there,’ he said in a low urgent voice, ‘on the other side of the lake. Can you see anything, or am I picking up an etheric image?’
The others all looked in the direction Taropat had indicated. At first Shan saw nothing, then he perceived a tall still figure in black, or was it only a dead tree? The shape was a mere shadow against the night.
‘There seems to be someone standing there,’ Merlan said, ‘but I can’t be sure.’
‘A hooded figure,’ Tayven said.
‘I don’t feel that’s the physical guardian,’ Shan said. ‘Do you, Taropat?’
Taropat shook his head slowly. ‘I don’t know. Whatever, or whoever, it is, it appears to be watching us.’
‘Shall we perform the opening meditation as normal?’ Tayven said. ‘If that is the guardian, perhaps it will approach us when it feels reassured we’re genuine seekers.’
Taropat nodded. ‘I was about to suggest that. Shan, stick the torch in the ground.’
The spiritual landscape of Malarena was, like that of Uspelter, very similar to its actual form. Taropat described a brooding calm beneath which great turbulence churned. ‘The lake is not just what we perceive with our eyes,’ he said. ‘We must extend our senses beneath its surface, see the activity that is taking place there. It is a metaphor for human emotion: chaos and muddy uncertainty. In the darkness are specks of sparkling blue radiance, which are creative thoughts coming into being, directed down from the indigo ray of Rubezal.’
Shan was oppressed by the imagery he saw. Around the lake, shadowy figures moved among the trees like predators. He was relieved to open his eyes and find no physical manifestations before him like at Ninatala.
‘The hooded figure hasn’t moved,’ Shan said. ‘It must be a tree or an hallucination.’
But even as he spoke, the creature or individual lifted one arm and pointed directly at them.
‘I don’t like the look of that,’ Merlan said.
The figure drew back its arm and appeared to fling something towards them. A dark blot shot from its hand or the sleeve of its robe. Halfway across the lake this missile extended wide ragged wings and uttered a loud caw. The group was forced to duck as an immense raven swooped upon them. They felt the wind of its passing, but it did not attack.
‘What in Madragore’s name was that about?’ Merlan snapped.
‘It’s gone to the weir,’ Taropat said.
The bird had alighted upon a rotten tree stump that poked out of the water. It stood with its head to one side, regarding them through an unblinking yellow eye.
Taropat stared back at the raven, tapping his lips with one forefinger. Then he made an emphatic gesture. ‘Yes, I think I understand. This is an extension of Uspelter, the same but different. Here, too, we must immerse ourselves in the water of the soul, but it will be no playful, joyful exercise. We must jump into the weir in the dark. We must put our trust and our faith in fate.’
‘That would be very dangerous,’ Shan said cautiously. ‘We have no idea what’s down there. Our limbs could get tangled in weeds and what about the underwater currents? We could drown.’
‘That’s the risk,’ Taropat said. ‘That’s the lesson. The overcoming of the fear of death.’
‘We don’t know for sure,’ Merlan said. ‘We haven’t exactly met a guardian yet. Perhaps we should wait.’
‘No,’ Taropat said. ‘The guardian stands on the opposite shore. He has given us the message. The spiritual guardian is the raven, who waits for us to act. The offering here is ourselves. We must give ourselves to the waters and trust we will survive.’
‘He’s right,’ Tayven said. ‘Perhaps the reason Almorante failed here is because he’d never think of doing anything so reckless.’
‘Isn’t starving us enough?’ Merlan said, with what sounded like forced humour. ‘Do we have to drown as well?’
Taropat ignored the remark. ‘It is not yet fully dark. We should wait until it is before we attempt the trial. Drink from the flasks we filled at Uspelter. We’ll need that energy to sustain us.’
Darkness came quickly. The sky was clear and blistered with stars, and the moon rose full and round above the forest. A wan spectral light illuminated the scene, turning the surface of the lake to milky pearl.
Taropat stood up and began to undress himself. ‘We must do this in our own time,’ he said, ‘We must be on our own.’
‘I have a strong desire to run away,’ Merlan muttered to Shan. ‘I hope Tayven was right to endorse Taropat’s idea.’
‘He has become Taropat for you now, then,’ Shan murmured back.
Merlan shook his head, as if in perplexity. ‘Khaster would never, in all eternity, have suggested a thing such as this!’ He paused, then stood up. ‘Well, might as well get it over with. I hope we’re destined to finish this quest alive.’
The four of them stood naked and vulnerable at the water’s edge, their torch flickering nearby. Shan could already sense the powerful churning current beneath the surface. From where he stood, he could see nothing but blackness beneath. The moonlight could not fight through the thick branches of the trees to illuminate the waters of the weir. Taropat was breathing slowly and deeply, as if summoning strength and courage. When would he find it and jump? Shan had already decided to wait until someone else dived in before he did so himself. He was hoping the sight of that would free his body of the rigour that gripped it. It wasn’t just physical fear, but a gut-deep instinct that what he was about to do was dangerous in more than the obvious ways. Overcome it, he told himself, but still his feet were rooted to the spot. He felt like a lamb at the door of the butcher’s shed, smelling blood and death, aware of gore-streaked metal in the ochre gloom. He glanced at Merlan who looked back at him, his face expressionless. Tayven was frowning in concentration, while Taropat stood straight and tall, his eyes screwed shut. No one could do it.
We can’t fail, Shan thought. I am the warrior. I must be their mettle and their courage. We can’t fail.
Shan closed his eyes, took a deep breath and uttered an ear-splitting scream. Then, without thinking he jumped into the water. It engulfed him in icy cold and immediately he felt himself being dragged down. Strong weeds whipped at his legs: muscular tentacles that would bind him until he drowned. Something buffeted him painfully in the side, which he realised was someone else’s kicking limb. His body bumped off submerged detritus that could have been fallen trees or boulders. It happened too quickly to tell. Sharp objects cut into his flesh. The boiling currents threw him against every obstacle. He was afraid his bones would break. All he could see was swirling blackness, utter chaos. Rise! he told himself. Reach for the air. It was like trying to pull himself out of chains. He would die. Involuntarily, he gripped the Dragon’s Claw, which still hung around his neck, and willed it to give him the strength of the warrior.
A voice whispered through his mind: Sinaclara’s. ‘It is within you, not the artefact. Energy flows where intention goes. Remember it. Remember it and focus.’
Yes, that was the way. Clear the mind. Concentrate. With great effort, Shan visualised pushing the primal fear from his mind. It was an obscuring cloud that must be banished. He concentrated his physical energy into his solar plexus, forcing all his will into the thought of rising to the surface. This he fed with the energy of his will. He clove the water with his arms. His legs kicked against the current. His were the limbs of a god, unstoppable. As if pushed from beneath, his body arrowed upwards. He had conquered the fear. He wa
s free.
Shan broke the surface, gasping for air, and swam quickly, painfully, to the bank, where he pulled himself out of the water. His whole body was tingling, and for some moments he could only lie face down on the cold earth, breathing heavily. Then he forced himself to sit up. Where were the others? He called their names, but as far as he could see the surface of the weir was still. He got shakily to his feet, wondering whether he had the strength to dive back in and find them, but then a head broke the surface, followed by another. Tayven and Taropat swam towards him, bearing Merlan between them.
‘Is he all right?’ Shan called.
Tayven clambered out slowly, shaking so much he could barely control his limbs. Taropat had a deep gash on his forehead, which was bleeding heavily. In the torchlight, the blood looked black. ‘I think Merlan took a knock to the head,’ he said. ‘Help us, Shan.’
Shan took hold of Merlan’s arms and dragged him onto the bank. He was relieved to hear him groan, but what would they do if Merlan was badly injured? How could they continue? Taropat dragged himself out of the water, wiped his face of blood.
‘Are you all right?’ Shan asked.
‘Yes. It’s not much. What about Merlan?’
Tayven squatted down and ran his hands over Merlan’s limbs, then carefully examined his body. ‘Don’t think there’s anything broken,’ he said. ‘There are no open wounds on his head.’
‘One of his hands is curled up,’ Shan said. ‘He’s got something. Take it, Tay.’
Tayven prised open the fingers of Merlan’s left hand. A spherical object rolled out onto the ground, emitting a faint glow.
‘The Eye,’ Taropat said.
‘Did you give it to him?’ Tayven asked.
Taropat shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Why did he take it?’ Shan said.
‘Let’s trust we’ll be able to ask him later,’ Taropat said, picking up the Dragon’s Eye. ‘Cover him with a blanket, Tayven. Quickly.’
Tayven stumbled as he groped his way to their luggage.
The Crown of Silence Page 39
