Gladdic nodded once. "Even if Shan did see everything that he claimed, that is no proof of its historical veracity. One achieves Glimpses through profound expenditure of imagination. One might work oneself into such a fanciful mental state that one visits a delusion upon oneself in the form of a 'Glimpse.'"
"In other words, Shan might have imagined the whole thing while genuinely believing he was seeing our long-lost past."
Their discussion had generated a sprinkle of the stream. Ara waved at the flecks, looking simultaneously annoyed yet amused. "No one since Shan has been as talented as he was. We've never been able to go as far back as he did. But some of us have caught Glimpses of the more recent past. What we've seen matches up with his story."
Dante leaned forward in the grass. "What about the great cities he claimed to see? The castles and towers? Why aren't there any ruins around?"
"Most were annihilated in the cataclysm. The rest were eroded over the long passage of years—along with all memory of what had happened. Time annihilates us more totally than we know, priest of the eleven-and-one gods. It annihilates us more than we want to know."
The night was still warm, but a shudder passed over his body. The Hell-Painted Hills were a black sprawl of spiked and gnarled rock. The starkness of the land seemed to threaten that some day, everything would be just as empty as it was.
"I don't know whether what you've told us is true," Dante decided. "But I'm glad to have heard it."
"Absolutely," Blays said. "Nothing beats being yanked out of bed in the middle of the night and forced to consider the aching void of eternity and your pathetic insignificance within it. Why torture us—I mean, gift us—with this story, anyway? We still haven't heard a peep about the lich mounting another assault."
Ara pulled the collar of her robe tight across her neck. "I have a feeling that won't be true for much longer."
"Don't tell me you can Glimpse the future, too. If so, please don't tell me how I die. I'm really looking forward to being surprised by it."
"The Odo Sein can't see the future any better than anyone else can. But I am very cynical, which makes me more accurate than most of you."
"Bel Ara," Gladdic said. "I must ask—"
"No. No more questions. I've told you as much as you deserve. Get back to your beds. And don't talk about this again."
Dante fell back asleep more easily than he thought he would. When he dreamed, it was of walking through a grassy field where all people and animals had long since died, and the only voice left was that of the wind.
~
"Lord Galand." Jona's voice, typically musing and slow-paced, was taut and forced. "I have a new report for you, sir."
Dante was alone for once, out in the fields taking a walk to clear his head. "Go on, Jona."
"The people of Ura Gall were evacuated as ordered. They headed north. Fast as they could. For some miles, the lich and his army kept after them. But then the enemy broke south."
"To make for Aris Osis."
"I'm not paid to decide such things as that, lord."
"How long ago was this?"
"It was half a day before we heard from the scouts. I've kept as close to the front as I dared."
Dante did some quick mental math. "We have to leave now. Otherwise, if he is headed for Aris Osis, we won't have time to get there before he sacks the city. Is there anything else?"
"Not yet, sir."
"Then I have to go prepare to leave. Tell me at once if circumstances change."
He dashed back toward the seven columns that made up the Silent Spires. As he entered the plaza between the buildings, he called out to a servant to help him find Bel Ara. Hearing Dante shout her name, she appeared on a balcony in her tower.
Dante cupped his hands to his mouth. "The lich is coming to Aris Osis. We have to get moving!"
For a moment, Ara looked bleak. Then she smiled, as mean as a falling rock. "Then I'd better help you stick a blade through the Eiden Rane's blue heart. Wait there."
She disappeared from the balcony. Dante instructed the servant to inform the others they needed to get ready to go at once. The servant jogged off at a speed that was fast enough to indicate respect but slow enough to indicate that Dante wasn't his master.
The door to the tower banged open, spraying servants into the plaza. They dashed off at full tilt—because Ara was right behind them, striding down the steps as her light robes fluttered behind her.
She stopped above Dante. "How soon do you mean to leave?"
"Immediately. We'll barely make it to Aris Osis ahead of the lich. We'll need every spare second to prepare the city."
"I thought you'd say that. I imagine your entire life consists of racing from one place to another at full tilt. Trying to save it all. That's why you're here, isn't it?"
"Not exactly."
"Oh? Then how did you come to be traveling about in a country where foreigners aren't allowed outside of the port, putting your life on the line to save us from a monster who's one of our own people?"
"A liar on an island pretended to be my dead dad."
Ara burst into unguarded laughter. "I'm deeply regretful that we didn't have time for you to tell me that story."
"It's a strange one. And probably longer than it's worth. But if we make it out of this alive, I'll be happy to tell you the tale."
"I might like that." She descended two more steps to stand beside him. "You actually think you can kill him, don't you?"
"So far, I haven't met anyone that I couldn't."
"I'll be honest with you, because it'll be funny. When you first came here, I thought you and your friends were a joke. That you'd exaggerated your encounters with the lich and would be pulverized by him if you met him again."
"You're right, that's hilarious. If you had no faith in us, why did you agree to train us?"
"You made a very good argument."
"And that was enough to convince you to waste our time and your own?"
She looked at him, then away. "There are some things that can't be discovered through reason. Maybe I wanted to help you because even though I didn't believe you could do it, I wanted to think that that you could."
Blays strolled into the square, waving at them. Out of deference, he hadn't been carrying his swords around the Silent Spires, but he was wearing them now. "Hello! Are we off to participate in something horrible?"
"It's about time, isn't it?" Dante said. "I don't think we've committed any war crimes in weeks."
Volo and Gladdic arrived soon after. Dante filled them in. As he spoke, servants showed up with tightly-packed bundles of provisions, blankets, and tools. It looked like more than they needed. As Dante was about to object that it would slow them down, hooves clopped into the plaza. Dante turned in confusion—he hadn't seen any signs of horses the whole time they'd been at the Spires—and was utterly baffled by the team of dappled animals brought forth. They were the size of ponies, but they had the horns of goats. And the beards of goats. And the snouts, ears, and eyes of goats.
Dante wrinkled his brow. "What on earth are those?"
"What do they look like?" Ara said.
"Goats. Really big ones."
"Congratulations, you didn't need to ask me after all. You should apply this lesson to more of your questions in the future."
"But what are the really big goats for? Eating your really big piles of trash?"
Ara sighed. "What does it look like?"
"They're…wearing saddles. With stirrups. Lyle's balls, we're supposed to ride them?"
"I'm guessing you'll find that much more comfortable than letting them ride you."
Gladdic wandered forward, waving his left hand about before him. "I had wondered how your knights were able to cross the Hell-Painted Hills without dying. How fast can these beasts travel?"
"Would you rather I tell you? Or would you rather experience the joy of finding out for yourself?"
"Don't tell us!" Volo jogged over to a black goat with white ears and chin
. "This one's mine. What are they called?"
"Lan haba. 'Strong-foot,' to you worthless barbarians."
Blays approached one of the animals, a brown-furred giant dappled with white spots. It gave him a sideways glance. "Any trick to riding them?"
"Sure," Ara said. "Don't fall off." She moved next to one of the lan haba and patted its well-groomed flank. "Given the circumstances, and the fact you've already felt the impact of the Hills for yourselves, I doubt I need to tell you not to delay. Fortunately, the animals are as strong as they look."
Dante turned to regard the fiery patterns splattered across the Hills. "They turn you into Blighted, don't they?"
"Not a pleasant fate. And not easy to come back from. Much easier to kill you." She flashed a grin. "Like I said. Don't delay."
The servants were already loading the beasts with provisions. There were eight lan haba in all: four for them, two for their guides, and two spares. As Dante waited for the final preparations, he gave thought to creating a loon linked to himself and Ara—both to keep her apprised of what was happening, and to continue their training as they traveled—but there were two problems there. First, even at a time like they presently faced, he didn't want to spread the loons to anyone he didn't have complete faith in. Not when they could be used by warlords and corrupt kings to do such harm.
And second, making a loon required parts of a dead animal. There were no animals in the Silent Spires, aside from the lan haba, which he was confident the Odo Sein would never let him kill. Although there wasn't any reason that a newly-killed human couldn't be used to make a loon, was there? Dante found his gaze resting on one of the older servants as the man shuffled across the plaza. Judging from the short, stuttery steps the man was taking, he wouldn't be useful for much longer anyway. Then why not—
Dante shook his head hard.
As soon as the animals were ready, Blays jumped into the saddle like he'd been riding giant goats his entire life. Dante brought himself beside one of the beasts, letting it accept his presence. He stuck his foot through the stirrup, pushed off, and swung into the saddle. The lan haba was a little lower to the ground than a typical riding horse but thicker through the middle. It smelled thoroughly goaty.
Ara moved to stand across from them. "Remember our deal. Even if you kill the lich, if you don't come back to found the library of the Silent Spires, we'll make you wish the Eiden Rane had stuck you on his spear instead."
Dante laughed. "Is that right? You can't even leave this place. How do you think you'd come find us?"
"Our knights would."
"Yes, I bet they'd turn against the people who finally killed the monster who was bent on destroying your entire nation. Be seeing you, Bel Ara."
He nudged the lan haba's flanks. As the animal turned away, Dante spotted a smile on Ara's face.
Their two guides were a man and a woman dressed in airy white robes with masks that could be drawn over their mouths and noses in case the winds got too dusty. Both of them had the stoic and silent bearing of those whose duties endanger their lives on a regular basis. They brought the four outsiders to the southeast perimeter and stepped from the living oasis into the blasted slag of the wasteland.
The goats stepped from rock to rock with total surety. They weren't half as fast as a galloping horse, but the ride was much smoother. And compared to how slow Dante and the others had been on their way to the Spires—struggling up inclines, worried about their footing at all times—they were racing along.
"This won't take us a full day," he said in mild wonder. "According to what Jona told me, even if the White Lich pushes as fast as he can, we'll beat him to Aris Osis by as much as a day and a half."
Blays put his fist to his mouth and yawned. "What kind of defenses are we looking at mounting?"
"Jona thinks the Tanarians can field at least three thousand half-decent soldiers. Maybe as many as a thousand more, if they can arm some of the people who've been trickling in from the swamps. We'll still be outnumbered—two-fold, if not three—but the core of Aris Osis is nothing but towers. They'd need ten times as many to dislodge us."
"Unless, say, they had the help of the world's most powerful sorcerer to act as a siege engine."
"If he comes close enough to start knocking down towers, he'll be close enough for the knight to shut him down. Then it's just a matter of breaking through to the prime body."
"Think he'll bring it to a protracted siege instead?"
"I don't think he has a choice. But I'll send in my little flying spies before he's within twenty miles of the city. If he leaves the prime body behind, we'll find it."
This was the last significant conversation they had for several hours. Dante kept watch on himself and the others for signs of oncoming Blight, but the way the lan haba were steadily stepping forward, he doubted whether they'd feel any ill effects before they were out of the Hills.
The direct sunlight was brutal, but it turned out the servants had packed extra traveling robes. As to why they hadn't informed Dante and the others about that to begin with, he could only guess that it came down to the Spires' pervasive obsession with making everyone figure everything out for themselves.
The guides pushed onward into twilight. When Dante raised concerns about the beasts tripping, the woman grunted something about the lan habas' superior ability to see in the dark. They didn't call a halt until full darkness lay upon them. They camped in a valley that was deep enough to protect them from the wind but not so steep to have to worry about rocks falling on them in the night.
Sleeping in the Hills was never easy, but at least they had proper blankets. Even so, everyone was up before the sun. The guides had them on their way while the eastern crags were still turning gray. Dante passed the time fiddling with the stream. When this grew tiresome, he thought for a long time about the story Ara had told them about the founding of the Odo Sein. He was halfway through blurting out a question about it to Gladdic when he remembered Ara had sworn them to secrecy and they were in the presence of two Odo Sein soldiers with absolutely nothing to do except listen to every word the outsiders said. The thought that he'd almost exposed Ara made his back stiffen.
With the sun nearing eleven o'clock, they topped a ridge and looked down on a sprawl of green-black trees. Ribbons of water glimmered from the gaps in the canopy. Descending to the boundary, the smell of plants and half-stagnant water enveloped them like a mist.
"There it is!" Volo pointed downhill to where her canoe rested upside-down on the grass. "I was sure someone would take it. I'd steal it if I saw it lying around like that."
The guides brought them down to the swamp's edge, crossing into the grass of the living land; they would remain there for a day in order to let the corruption of the Hills fade from their bodies before returning to the Silent Spires. Dante thanked them. They nodded, saying nothing.
The four outsiders loaded up the canoe and got on their way, heading southeast toward the coast and Aris Osis.
With Volo paddling, Blays turned for a last look at the Hills. "That was a surprisingly uneventful trip, considering that it kills everyone else who passes through it, and your death can only be avoided with the aid of magical giant goats."
"There was nothing magic about them," Dante said.
"But they were pretty giant."
The canoe coasted along through the trees. Dante felt a fly land on him and smashed it with a scowl. "Gladdic, I never had the chance to ask you. What's your take on the story Ara told us about the founding of the Odo Sein?"
"I believe," the priest said, "that the Odo Sein have created a grand history for themselves. One which can be used to explain why they are special, and hence why they are justified in committing whatever crimes the Drakebane commands them to enact against his own people."
"I was actually wondering if you thought Shan could be right about the stream but wrong about the past, but I suppose that's also an answer."
"It is not a criticism unique to the Odo Sein. All of those w
ho proclaim that only they know the truth are guilty of the same sinister motives."
"Including you and me?"
"If not, then we would be exceptional indeed."
"Do you need to turn yourself into the Mallish authorities? Because you're starting to sound like you don't believe in the gods at all."
"I believe," Gladdic said. "But I begin to wonder if I should."
"You know what's interesting? If you think about it, their story doesn't preclude ours from also being true. The gods could have created the world just as the Cycle—or your Ban Naden—says they did. And then the nethermancers might have enslaved four-fifths of the populace, leading to a revolt against them which they tried to stop with a weapon that destroyed all human culture. And then a long, long time later, after civilization returned, the mortals in the Cycle did all the things it says they did."
"That is logically possible. But it seems more likely that you're deluding yourself. If Shan's story is correct, and everything was destroyed—all knowledge, all records—then how do we still know of the gods?"
"Easy. The gods told their story to our ancestors, inspiring them to write the Cycle. If you'd created the entire world for people to live in, wouldn't you want them to know about that? I would. And I wouldn't let them stop them from knowing just because a group of morons screwed everything up tens of thousands of years ago."
"Yet the gods never correct us when we are wrong about them today."
Dante swatted at another fly. "Maybe it's enough that the story is known by some people."
"And maybe you rationalize, because it is more comfortable to be swaddled in lies than to face the cold truth with naked skin."
"That's enough," Blays said. "Of all the atrocious things you've done, by far the worst is making me imagine you naked."
Dante frowned. Now that the Silent Spires were behind them, Ara's claims felt flimsier, less authoritative. Yet something about the story of the Odo Sein remained compelling. Specifically, the idea that it could have happened, or at least that the history of the world could be so ancient, and they'd have no way to know it. Dante knew firsthand how much could be destroyed within a single century. With a thousand years of erosion, entire peoples and disasters were washed from the shores of time.
The Light of Life Page 30
