by David Drake
"Something doesn't want us here," Tenoctris said. She looked out to sea, then at the sky. The sunlight was so faint that Cashel, following her eyes, could pick out constellations from knowing their brightest stars. Cashel spun the quarterstaff again. "That's all right," he said. "Do you know which way we're going, or should we climb that-" He nodded to the corniche. Though barely higher than he could reach, it was what passed for a vantage point in this barren landscape. "-and take a look around?" Tenoctris looked at him. She wasn't angry, but her eyes went all the way to his heart. "We'll see the altar when we reach the angle of the cliff ahead of us," she said calmly. "It's just around the headland and quite obvious." They started along the shore.
A pair of gray-headed gulls had been looking out from the edge of the sea. One, then the other, flapped into the air and circled to gain height. They shrieked at Cashel and Tenoctris, sounding peevish as gulls always did. The black shingle wanted to turn under Cashel's bare feet, but other than that he preferred it to the brick or cobblestone pavements he walked on in cities. These stones were rough, but they didn't have spikes or sharp edges. He glanced at Tenoctris. She wore wooden-soled clogs, though the high uppers were of leather tooled with fashionable designs. She met his eyes, smiled, and said, "Yes, I dressed for what I expected to find." Her expression sobered. "I should've warned you," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm used to you being able to deal with anything." Cashel beamed at her. "Yes ma'am," he said. "I am. Or anyway, I'll try to." He cleared his throat and said,
"I shouldn't 've spoken about you knowing where we were. I knew you did." "You wanted me to get on with our business," Tenoctris said. She wore a faint smile, but he wasn't sure of what was under it. "You were right to remind me of that. We both have things we want to return to."
"Yes, ma'am," Cashel said, thinking of Sharina and feeling warm all the way through. "But I still shouldn't've said it." A crab longer than Cashel's foot came out of the surf ahead of them. Its shell was the dirty yellow-brown color that sulfur gets when you heat it. "Those pinchers could take your finger off," he said, bending to pick up a piece of shingle. He threw it, hard but not trying to hit: his missile cracked into similar stones a hand's breadth from the crab. For choice Cashel didn't kill things, even unpleasant things. Instead of scuttling back into the water, the crab charged them side-on.
Frowning, Cashel stepped forward, putting himself in front of Tenoctris. A double-pace from the ugly creature he shot his quarterstaff out like a spear. The crab hopped in the air, but it wasn't quick enough. The iron butt-cap crushed the edge of its shell and all the legs on that side. The crab landed on its back, scrabbling with its remaining legs to turn over. Cashel stepped closer, judged the angle, and flipped the creature into the water with his staff. He knew crabs. That one's fellows'd make a meal of it before any of the other predators got a chance to. "That was funny," he said to Tenoctris. "I've had'em come for me plenty times before, but not from so far away. Do crabs get rabies, do you think?" A double handful of crabs came out of the sea, all the same ugly color and just as big as the first. Their clawed feet clicked over the stones as they sidled toward Cashel and Tenoctris. "I think we'd better-" Cashel said. More crabs appeared. The sea boiled with them. There were too many crabs to count, piling onto the shore like bubbles of filthy yellow foam. *** The cold bit Garric's hands and ears. He laced his fingers and twisted them to get the blood flowing. He wondered if Kore thought he was nervous. He chuckled. Shin looked back and raised an eyebrow.
"Iam nervous," Garric said over his shoulder. "But that's not why I'm wringing my hands, Mistress Kore." The ogre laughed. The sound that made Garric think of bubbles rising through a swamp. It'd gotten chilly during the night as they crossed the strait in the barge, but since the sun came up only heat had been of concern. It probably wasn'tthat cold here under the ice, but the contrast with the dry wasteland they'd just crossed made it seem a lot worse than it was.
The aegipan paused at a round-topped opening in the side of the rock.
The edges were as smooth as those a cobbler made when he sliced leather. It didn't have a door nor could Garric see any sign that a door'd ever been fitted. "You've reached the resting place of the Yellow King," Shin said. The portal was easily twelve feet high, but through a momentary trick of the light Garric thought the aegipan's slim form was filling it. "Come in, then, Garric." "And I'll come as well," Kore said. "I'm no longer your steed, man thing. We're agreed on that?" Garric looked back at her. Was Kore warning that she was about to attack him? No. And if she did, well, you couldn't live like a human being and still distrust everyone and everything you met. If the Shepherd chose that an ogre Garric trusted should pull his head off from behind, so be it. "Yes, mistress," Garric said. "You've been a good companion and an excellent steed. You're released from your oath. I release you from your oath." "Very well," said the ogre. She set the net of provisions down in the rubble-strewn track. "Then I'm free to become a spectator. I think Master Shin is about to show us wonders." The aegipan laughed. "Wonders indeed," he said as he walked into the mountain with the others following. Garric touched the side of the passage: it was as smooth as glass. There was light all around him, but he couldn't tell the source. It was blue, but a purer, clearer blue than what penetrated the ice outside in the valley. It was wizardlight. And not only the illumination but the passage itself must've been formed by wizardry. "That shouldn't be a surprise, should it, Garric?" said Shin without turning his head. "You knew the Yellow King was a wizard. That's why you came here, isn't it?" Garric's mouth was dry. "I knew the Yellow King was a myth," he said. "That's what I really believed, as you must know. I came because Tenoctris told me to come." He laughed without humor. "I came because Tenoctris gave me an excuse to walk away from the duties of being king, which I hate because I'm afraid I'm going to do the wrong thing and breakeverything . That's why I came, Master Shin." "Well, I don't suppose the reasons matter, do they?" said the aegipan cheerfully. "The important thing is that you came." He stepped into a chamber. Its ceiling rose so high that it was lost in a haze of wizardlight. A helical staircase circled it, rising out of sight. The floor was stone, polished like the walls, and over a hundred feet in diameter. In the center, facing the entrance, was a huge throne on a three-step base. It'd been carved as a whole from the living rock. On its empty seat was a cushion of yellow fabric. There was nothing else in the great room. Carus would've drawn his sword in an instinctive response to a situation he didn't understand. Garric kept his hands in front of him with his fingers tented, buthe certainly didn't understand what was going on either. "Ah, Shin?" he said. "Are we to wait here for the Yellow King's arrival? Or…?" "Oh, as for that…," said the aegipan.
He turned a double cartwheel to the base of the throne, then mounted it. At each step he appeared to grow larger. When he lifted the yellow fabric-it was a folded robe, not a cushion-he was of a size with the throne. Shin smiled and bowed to Garric, then settled onto the stone seat. "I've arrived. More to the point, you've arrived to meet me, Garric." Carus was calculating how to attack the aegipan, but that was Carus. Anything big enough to be dangerous was to him a potential threat. That was a useful trait in a subordinate, but not a good one for the person in charge. Garric was in charge. He cleared his throat.
"Ah, your highness," he said, looking up at the great figure enthroned before him. "I came to ask your assistance in dealing with the Last, the invaders, as you know. I-" The absurdity of the situation struck him. He laughed, knowing that he must sound a little hysterical. "Will you help us, your highness?" he said. "Will you help mankind, now that you've brought me all this way to ask you?" "I've been Shin to you during the journey," the great figure said. "I'll remain Shin to you and Mistress Kore, if you don't mind. Shin has a more interesting life than the Yellow King does." Garric bowed. "I came to like Shin," he said. "I'd be pleased to have him back." The aegipan rose and walked down from the throne again, shrinking at each step just as he'd grown.
At the bottom the neck of the robe sl
ipped over his body. He walked out of the garment. His tongue lolled in a smile. Garric wondered if he were going to cartwheel toward them. "Another time, perhaps," said the aegipan, his hooves clicking on the floor. "The test wasn't of how bold a warrior you were, Garric," Shin went on. "Though you certainly proved that well enough. What I needed to determine was how fit a ruler you'd be for a land in which 'people' means more than members of the human race. You satisfied me ably on that score." And if I hadn't?
Garric thought. He didn't voice the words and Shin didn't answer the unspoken question. "Youknowthe answer, lad," said the ghost in his mind. "This one's as hard as I am, and he has no more reason to love us than he does the Last." "Perhaps a little more, Brother Carus," said Shin with his mocking smile again. "But that's of no concern now since your descendent has succeeded where a more physical ruler would not have. I'll go to my… well, you could call it an altar, on top of this ridge. Those are the steps to it." He gestured toward the staircase circling the room. "There's only one problem," Shin went on.
"The wyvern we saw breaking out of the ice will make for the highest point also. And while Icould deal with him, I can't both deal with the wyvern and accomplish what you've asked me to do. In the time that remains, I mean. In the time that remains for humanity." King Carus began to laugh. His image stood arms-akimbo, looking merrily at the aegipan through Garric's eyes. "I suppose you wouldn't fancy my chances of arriving here the way Garric did, eh, Master Shin?" Carus said. "To tell the truth, I don't fancy them either. I figure it'd have ended in a stable with a dead ogre and my head pulled off my neck." He nodded toward Kore. The ogre squatted with an elbow cocked on her knee to support her chin. She nodded back, as comfortable in dealing with the ghost as she was with the Yellow King. "So fair enough, I wasn't the man for that job," Carus said. The lines of his face hardened, though his smile remained. "But I've fought a wyvern.
You get on with your business, wizard. I and the boy here'll keep the beast busy for you." "You haven't fought a wyvern as big as this one," said Kore. Garric shrugged. He didn't need his ancestor to tell him what to do now. "This is the best way to get to him?" he said, gesturing to the stairs circling the wall. "Far and away the best,"
Shin agreed. "Even if you were a rock climber. I'll follow you up, then." Kore stood and stretched. "Follow me instead, Master Shin," she said. "I think I'll go too." Garric looked at her without speaking.
The ogre grimaced, an amazing expression on her long face. "It's my business what I do, you know," she said. "I'm not your horse any more!" She made a dismissive gesture with her right arm. It looked like a derrick swinging. "Wyvern flesh is quite tasty," she added.
"The young ones are, at any rate. I've never eaten one this big myself, but I'm hopeful." "Right," said Garric quietly. "I'm hopeful too, my friend." He strode to the base of the stairs. He was nervous.
He'd have liked to rush up them, but he was going to need all his strength and wind very shortly. In truth, he and Kore were probably going to need more strength than they had; but they were going to try. *** Ilna could no longer see light when she looked over her shoulder, and the gray glow ahead wasn't strong enough to help her choose her footing. She walked on, her face set and grim; more or less as usual, she supposed. The worst thing that could happen would be for her to fall into a chasm and break her neck, and she wasn't disposed at the moment to consider that a bad result. She'd go on as long as she lived, but life had held no pleasure for her since she'd watched the catmen kill Chalcus and Merota. The light was growing brighter.
She'd heard things scuttling along the floor beside her for some minutes; now she was able to see distorted shadows the size of dogs.
She didn't bother to pretend that theywere dogs. "Oh, she's very strong," whispered a voice. "The Messengers will bow to her," another voice rustled. "Not like us, not poor weak failures like us." The light was stronger. This time she could tell that the speaker was one of the scuttling things. For a moment it stood and she thought itwas a man; but then it hunched again. There was nothing human about it, though there might once have been. Ilna remembered what Temple had said about those who sought the Messengers but didn't have the strength to compel them. Asion and Karpos deserved better of her.
Indeed, there wasn't anyone Ilna could think of whodidn't deserve better, though there were no few she'd met who she'd send to a clean death without scruple or hesitation. But these despicable creatures were here on their own responsibility, not hers. She smiled. She wasn't responsible for anybody's presence save her own. She was descending. Because she'd been in caves before, she expected at least a hint of dampness if not water running along the floor. The air here was as dry as that of the sere grasslands above. And of course the rock was sandstone, not limestone where natural caves appeared. There wasnothing natural about this place. Well, she'd known that. "The Messengers will bow before her!" the little voices chittered. "Oh, what power she has!" When Ilna didn't look at the creatures, their sounds made her think of rats. Even to her eyes, the way they scuttled was ratlike. The walls of the cave were wide near the ceiling but bulged in before spreading again at the bottom. There was plenty of room to walk, but Ilna had the feeling that the walls were reaching for her. She hated rock and she hated this cave; but she hated the catmen more. She expected to pay to get the things she wanted. "What will she demand?" the voices twittered. "Oh, such power! She will rule the Messengers as they rule wretched creatures like us!" The light had no source and no color. It was gray, the gray of the Hell Ilna'd walked in till she surrendered her soul to evil and gained skills no human could have mastered. In the Hell-light Ilna saw deep into the rock, the patterns locked there in crystalline horror: death and doom and chaos, all drawn in detail. Oh, yes. She had power. And soon perhaps she would have the power to kill every Corl there was. The light became fiercer at each step. How deep had she gone? Into the earth, into the mountain? Usually Ilna had a feeling for time-if not for distance the way her brother Cashel did-but the rock confused her.
She'd been buried in this place. She'd buried herself. And she wasn't alone. The creatures scampered when her eyes fell on them, crawled when they thought she wasn't looking. They wore no-colored clothing and she never saw their features. "She'll put out the sun/move the stars from their courses/bring back the age of fire and ice!" The walls of the passage began to sprout spiky nodules like sea urchins.
At first Ilna thought it was lichen, but when she paused for a closer look she found that the growths were crystals extruded from the rock itself. She'd never seen anything like that on sandstone. It was as unexpected as finding maggots in a melon. She continued on, trying not to look to the sides. Her mouth was set in a line of fierce disapproval, and her fingers knotted and picked out patterns in yarn.
She'd done the same things when she stepped into Hell and became lost to the world. She'd done the same things theprevious time she stepped into Hell. Her smile quirked. This time at least she knew the way. The smile faded. Garric wouldn't arrive to save her here, though. That didn't matter. If she destroyed the Coerli as she'd come to do, thennothing else mattered. "She will meet the Messengers!" the voices chirped. The distorted creatures covered the floor of the corridor behind Ilna. Rats the size of dogs, large dogs… "She is meeting the Messengers and they will bow to her! They will bow!" Ilna stepped into a spherical chamber. It was huge, far too big for her to judge its true size. All the buildings and groves and terraces of the palace in Valles could fit into it. In the center hung a spinning pink glow.
It lit the cavern the way the sun did the surface world. Ilna noticed that the sandstone walls were banded as far up as she could see. The markings were more vivid than those she'd seen on the bluffs before she entered the passage, but she must be far beneath the surface of the world she'd left. YOU HAVE COME TO US, said voices in her head, each echoing the other and switching order from syllable to syllable.
The sticky pink light trembled in measure with the words. WHAT DO YOU WISH, WIZARD? Ilna focused on the l
ight with the eyes of her mind just as she would a pattern she intended to weave. The lighthad a pattern.
It shifted as the separate nodes wound around and even through one another. The nodes had shapes, but what Ilna saw of them were the constantly changing parts that they showed to this world for a particular instant. And the lights were speaking. WE ARE THE MESSENGERS, the silent voices said. WE HAVE ALL KNOWLEDGE, WIZARD, AND WE OFFER IT TO YOU. "She is powerful," the gray figures moaned softly.
"Never was there one so powerful as she, or almost never." They spread across the floor of the cavern like mold on rotting fruit, never coming as close to Ilna as her foot would reach if she lashed out.
Their smell was overpowering. It seemed to be compounded of old urine and rancid sweat. How long had wizards been coming here? The squirming mass seemed the size of an army assembled for review; greater than the largest crowds that came to hear Garric speak in the plaza before the palace. "I want you to kill all the Coerli!" Ilna said. She raised her voice, but it still became lost in the chamber's vastness. "I'm told you can do anything. Can you? I want you to kill them all!" WE DO NOT ACT, WIZARD, the voices said. WE CANNOT ACT, FOR WE ARE IMPRISIONED