by Brandon Fox
Ander recoiled from the beast’s fury. At first he thought they were in a fiery cavern of some kind, but as his eyes adjusted to the ruddy light, he realized they were in the underground temple’s cylindrical chamber. A single flame flickered in midair twenty feet overhead and was reflected in the numberless glass tiles covering the walls. Dark slits marked the distant entrance and exit.
The creature leaned over him and snapped its beak within an inch of his nose. The stench of carrion was overwhelming. “No, I’ll rip out your liver first. You’ll live long enough to watch me eat it.”
Ander rolled to the side, his heart pounding. He scrambled to his feet, trembling with sick dread. The door was fifty feet away, and the creature looked fast. He started backing slowly toward the entrance.
The birdman tilted its head back and shrieked. The sound echoed around the chamber and sounded like a whole flock of vultures descending on helpless prey. It raised an arm and slashed its talons through the air. Dried blood stained the razor-like fingers.
The urge to run made him quiver, but he stood fast. What would Thane do? He wouldn’t panic, that’s for certain. Though he felt like a mouse waiting for the slash of an owl’s beak, he stood up straight and met the enraged creature’s gaze.
“We… we meant no harm. We thought this place was abandoned. We didn’t—”
“Liar! You woke the Sentinel! It warned you to leave, yet you did not!”
“The sentinel? I don’t—”
The creature hissed like a lizard, mucus spraying from nostril slits in its beak. It raised an arm overhead and made a complex gesture with its talons. The upper part of the cylindrical chamber filled with an image of the hub-and-spoke apparition that brooded over the valley.
“You were told!” it screamed. “Even vermin can understand the Sentinel’s warning.” It drew the sword from its scabbard and advanced toward Ander.
His mind clamored with the urge to run. But even if he escaped into the subterranean labyrinth, his friends would be vulnerable.
Instead of running or preparing to fight, Ander bowed his head and held his arms out, palms up. “I beg forgiveness. We didn’t know we were intruding on someone’s home. We only wanted to learn.”
The birdman towered over Ander with sword uplifted, but the blow did not fall.
Ander looked up, hoping he had won a reprieve. What he saw left him gaping.
The avian nightmare had vanished. In its place stood a man who appeared little more than Dannel’s age and of normal size. He wore cream-colored leathers and a tunic that looked like thousands of green fish scales sewn together with black silk. The elegant hauberk glistened like butterfly wings. Golden hair fell to his waist. Though his features were youthful, his silver eyes held preternatural wisdom and his stern expression made him seem older. A rosy aura surrounded him, glittering with silver sparks, as though his body was formed out of the kei itself. He shed power the way men throw away spent breath.
Ander slowly lowered his arms. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice shaky. “What are you?”
The man returned his sword to its scabbard and stepped back. His eyes never left Ander’s. “An inquisitive one. Not a common thief, I think.” He frowned. “What should I do with you?” His deep voice had a lilting quality, rising and falling almost like music. The words were unlike any tongue Ander had heard during his years working at Lady Tayanita’s brothel, yet he understood their meaning.
“Your pardon, sir. But what happened to the, um, the one who was here before? The one with feathers?”
The man’s frown faded, and he examined Ander more closely. “Curious. Before, men have always run. But you had the courage to accept responsibility and master your fear. A virtue. And you ask questions.” He dipped his head in a slight acknowledgment, though his expression remained grave. “I am Pallaton. What are you called?”
“Ander, sir. Thank you for coming. I was in danger, and you seem to have banished it. I’m indebted to you.”
Pallaton shook his head, his severe dignity unwavering. “You are in danger only when I decide it. Only I have been with you. What you saw before was illusion, a test. I am as you see me now.”
A test? Ander’s mind bubbled with questions, but Pallaton’s haughty manner restrained him. It was clear he was no ordinary man or even an ordinary mage. No hint of blood magic tinged the air, but the erotic tingle Ander associated with Thane’s art was also absent.
Pallaton circled Ander, examining him like a bug stuck in amber. Suddenly he stopped and fixed Ander with an accusing stare. “Several scrolls are missing from my library. Part of a collection that must remain intact. Who took them?” The last question was low and soft, filled with menace.
Ander gulped. If punishment is required, let Thane be spared. “I… I did,” he answered. “I’ll gladly return them. I only wanted to study them.”
Pallaton was watching him through narrowed eyes. Time stretched painfully, and Ander started to sweat. He began to doubt his ability to conceal anything from this creature.
At last Pallaton took a step backward. “You are a clumsy liar.”
Ander went white, expecting the worst.
Pallaton looked at him sternly. “Skill in lying is not a virtue, Ander. And you were trying to protect your friends. Loyalty is a virtue.”
Ander felt faint. “Do you know everything?” he asked in a weak voice. “Are you just toying with me?”
“I am deciding what to do with you. Death is the usual fate for those foolish enough to intrude. But I will take a look at you before deciding. Seasons change; spring returns after a long winter. Perhaps you carry the seeds of a new beginning.”
“I don’t understand,” Ander said, at a loss as to how to guess what Pallaton was seeking. Despite the threats, he sensed a yearning. He could have killed me easily, if that’s what he wanted. He’s searching for something else. But what? The precariousness of his situation was painfully clear, but he felt a current of opportunity as well.
Remembering his lover’s fearless determination when discovery beckoned, he trusted his instincts and plunged ahead. “Maybe… if you’d talk with my friend Thane, he could tell you what you need to know. He has far more knowledge than I do about—”
“You will serve my purposes. You and your friends can tell me nothing. I will see for myself what fate you deserve. This time no stalking beasts can interrupt my inspection, and my judgment will be final.”
Ander felt faint but resolved to make the best of the situation. He bowed his head submissively.
“If I can be of service, I offer myself. I would make amends for our offense if you permit it.”
Pallaton appeared pleased by the offer. He stepped close and put a hand under Ander’s chin, tilting his head so their eyes met. His symmetrical features were princely, an effect strengthened by his functional yet elegant clothing.
Ander’s pulse quickened, wondering if the gleam in Pallaton’s eyes sprang from the same desires as the smoldering gazes he had received from enamored visitors at Lady Tayanita’s house of companionship.
“One more test,” Pallaton said, leaning even closer. “There is virtue here, more than I have found before among your kind. That alone doesn’t separate you from the beasts. I need to know if you have a clear enough mind to see beyond the veil.”
As Pallaton studied him, Ander realized the next test had nothing to do with the erotic. Whatever Pallaton was, he wasn’t truly human. Ander felt the presence of a massive intellect, probing yet gentle, touching his mind without the benefit of bonds such as those he had formed with Thane and other initiates. What touched his spirit now moved on a deeper level and with infinitely greater power. His knees felt weak, but he found it impossible to move. Pallaton’s hand released his chin and brushed his cheek, then moved to the back of his head.
“I seek balance,” Pallaton said. “Creatures of the mountain and the plain have a virtue of their own, but they see only the surface of things. They cannot even imagine that something lies
deeper. Some men can imagine higher truths, but they lack the balance to live in harmony. Perhaps enough time has passed for man to change. I intend to find out.”
“How old are you?” Ander managed to ask. Pallaton’s touch was having a strange effect on him, as if he were drugged. He felt helpless yet at the same time relaxed. Somewhere deep inside, his mind protested and tried to raise an alarm. His body paid no heed. His fate was in Pallaton’s hands, and no amount of worrying would change it.
“Save your questions,” Pallaton said. “I have a task for you. Tell me what you sense, if anything.”
Ander’s vision clouded. In moments he seemed to stand in the middle of a howling blizzard. Swirling whiteness surrounded him like wind-driven snow. He could no longer feel the floor under his feet or Pallaton’s hand at the back of his head. Disorientation threatened to spin into panic. Then the blizzard’s voice changed, becoming unified and pure. A line of music composed of eight notes floated through his mind with crystal clarity.
“Music,” Ander said. “I hear music.”
“Good.” Pallaton’s voice whispered through the white void as if it bubbled up from deep under water. “Those who can see beyond the veil perceive what lies there in different ways. What is important is that you perceive it at all. Now, do something with it.”
Trepidation filled him, but there was no turning back. The melody repeated, like a challenge. Ander took the theme and sang it in his mind. The notes sounded a third time in his ears. This time the sound had a different quality, warmer and more full-bodied. The effect filled him with wonder and delight. He added another five notes to the theme, then inverted it so that notes went up where they had previously gone down and down where they had gone up.
“So, your mind can speak as well as hear.” A sense of grudging approval tinged the words. “But we are only beginning. Show me more.”
An instant later the music Ander had constructed was repeated, but this time a countersubject answered the theme and completely changed the music’s direction. The two voices danced around each other with delicate precision.
Ander felt himself irresistibly drawn to the music. His skill with intricate counterpoint had taken years to develop and had earned a well-deserved reputation throughout Pella. He merged the inverted theme with the original theme, offsetting them by four notes to create a fugue.
If he had thought in the first few moments that Pallaton’s final test would be easy, he soon learned otherwise. They took turns adding to the musical construction. Augmentations, inversions, modulations, and additional subjects grew from the original melody like an ornate temple growing from its keystone. He forgot everything else as music filled his mind. Complexity beyond anything he had imagined threatened to overwhelm him, and the beauty of the growing creation tugged for his attention like a siren.
Ander managed to keep up with the challenge until Pallaton’s turn came again and he added a fourth subject to a fugue that had already reached the limits of what Ander thought was possible. The fourth theme fit together with the rest like a key in a lock, bringing harmonies and rhythms together in a way that made Ander want to weep with joy. He surrendered to the experience, leaving Pallaton to work out the inconceivable intricacies. He could only marvel as revelations of infinite beauty spread before him.
The improvisation came to a towering conclusion that seemed to fill the universe. As the sound faded, Ander grasped at the memory. But it was like waking from a dream, impossible to hold. His vision cleared, and he found himself supported in Pallaton’s arms. He ached with loss.
Pallaton waited until Ander’s dazed expression faded before effortlessly easing him to his feet. Then he stepped back and put a hand on the hilt of his sword.
Ander gulped, remembering that he hadn’t been able to keep up. He had failed. His stomach knotted, and hot disappointment filled him.
“There is hope for your kind after all,” Pallaton said at last. “I had begun to doubt. But now I see an infant has been born at last. Wonders await you, if you survive.”
Ander felt tears in his eyes, and a welter of emotions too tangled to sort out. Have I failed? Is he going to let us live? Pallaton’s cryptic verdict left him confused and frustrated, and despite it all he still felt a desperate yearning for the beauty he had seen. Most of all, he wished Thane were with him.
Pallaton saw his confusion, and for the first time, a hint of sympathy softened his regal expression. “Many have come before you,” he said. “Only a few had strong enough spirits to awaken the Sentinel and summon me. And none before have opened the passage to the library. That is why I put you to a test. I was not disappointed.”
“Does… does that mean you’ll pardon us?” Ander could imagine Thane’s frustration at the mysteries they would have to leave unsolved, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Escaping with their lives would be boon enough.
“I have seen enough of your spirit to believe you meant no harm in coming here. Even to hope your kind might someday join the great venture on the other side of the veil.”
Now that their continued survival seemed assured, Ander’s fear faded and curiosity roared back to life. “You keep speaking of my kind,” he ventured. “If you’ll pardon my asking, what do you mean by that?”
Pallaton regarded him thoughtfully, then seemed to reach a decision. “Knowledge can be a dangerous thing. But an inquiring mind joined with a gentle spirit should be nurtured. If you have the balance to live wisely, knowledge could help you find the right path. So I will tell you this much.” He extended his right hand and touched his thumb to the middle finger.
Ander felt a moment of vertigo and blinked with surprise. They no longer stood in the cylindrical chamber of mirrors. The towering walls of the gallery inside the Aerehoth Gate soared above them on both sides. The glyphs sparkled with light and shifted shape as if they had come alive. Pallaton indicated them with a sweeping gesture.
“These tell the story,” he said. “What you have been told of the past is wrong. The world is far older than you know. There were uncounted eons when it was a speck of dust surrounded by vastness you cannot imagine. Life finally emerged from chaos. Plants and beasts filled it for more ages, but none of them could see beyond the surface of the world.”
Ander heard the absolute certainty in Pallaton’s words. “I always thought the priests’ stories sounded like moonshine. The tales are all different depending on what cult you listen to, even though there’s no way more than one could be true. So I doubted all of them.”
Pallaton nodded. “I judged you right. But the story is just begun. After the beasts came man. Men began to suspect there was a veil and that something might lie beyond it. But they lacked the balance to understand what was under the surface. Greed and fear twisted their spirits and clouded their minds.”
“That’s still the same,” Ander said. “Well, mostly. Thane’s not like that at all.”
“As I said, things change. It is the nature of the world. Mankind grew powerful, became obsessed with machines. Men and women gained more power than their weak nature could control.”
“Machines? Like clocks? How could that be dangerous?”
Pallaton shook his head. “You still do not understand. How could you, when you know so little? When I say the world is old, I mean truly ancient. The age of machines is more than a thousand millennia past. All traces of it have vanished. They were destroyed.”
“A thousand millennia?” Ander tried to think how many generations would pass over such a time and quickly decided the question was futile. “If the machines were so powerful, who destroyed them?”
“Such a simple question, but there is no simple answer. History was lost in the war that ended man’s dominion. But this much we know. Man sprang from the beasts of the field, as a child springs from its parents but is sometimes stronger or wiser. In the same way the Hsien arose from man. Perhaps it was fate, the way man arose by chance. Or it could be, as some think, that men created the first hsien. Perhaps
as a weapon, or because some of them realized their own race was destroying the world. They had the means to do it. Men being what they are, once they had the power, they would not have been able to resist using it.”
Ander felt numb. Pallaton’s story was nothing like the teachings of the mystery cults. But the assurance in his voice and the grim inevitability of what he described carried the ring of truth.
“You said there was war,” Ander said. His voice shook. “What happened?”
Pallaton saw his distress, and his voice softened. “It was for the best. You would not be here now if we hsien had not prevailed. Mankind, with its wars and machines, would have killed everything.”
Ander realized he was shivering, tried to calm himself. “So the hsien fought man and won. Then why are there still men?”
“Does a child kill its parents, even if the parents are mad? We fought to defend ourselves; mankind tried its best to destroy us. When they realized defeat was inevitable, the survivors begged for mercy. We moved them to a vast island in the south and took away their machines. They were glad to live quietly, close to the land. We sealed the place off so they could not leave, then rooted out the machines and poisons that had polluted the world. We built our own cities using powers you call the kei.”
Ander felt as if the lynchpin of everything he believed about the world was working loose. He was sure Pallaton spoke truthfully but still couldn’t make sense of the story.
“But there are men everywhere, and you’re the first hsien I’ve ever seen.” His voice was anguished. “How can what you say be true?”
Pallaton stepped back. He looked amused.
“So young. I wonder how it feels to see the world through such fresh eyes.” His expression softened, and suddenly he looked much less threatening. His scaled armor glinted with twisting reflections of glowing glyphs. “You still have no concept of time, Ander. As I said, man’s dominion ended more than a thousand millennia ago. The history of the hsien is far longer than man’s was. The tales I could tell you! Stories of bravery, laughter, beauty that would make you weep. But the hsien are not immune to change. We have traveled beyond the veil. The portal I guard, in the chamber at the end of the Hall of Avreise, leads to realms deep in the kei. We dismantled our cities and released mankind from its confinement. I remained here to guard this sacred place, waiting in a place outside of time except when the Sentinel summons me, but all the rest have been gone for millennia. Someday your kind might follow. At last I have seen a beginning. I wish you well.”