The Tenth Power

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The Tenth Power Page 13

by Kate Constable


  ‘Have you gone stark mad ?’ Trout’s voice rose to a squeak of outrage. ‘Darrow, tell her! We can’t split up, not in the middle of nowhere!’

  Tonno grabbed Calwyn’s arm. ‘Don’t be daft, lass! Halasaa knows the way. And we need Darrow to push the sleds and play the Clarion, we can’t go on without chantment.’

  ‘You must.’ Calwyn shook him off, and threw Keela and Trout’s packs up onto the second sled.

  ‘We stay together!’ Tonno swung Calwyn around by the shoulders. Calwyn tried to push him away, and they wrestled on the ice, feet sliding from under them, until they both tumbled over. The back of Calwyn’s head banged violently on the ice.

  Stop!

  Halasaa stood, tall and commanding, his arms outspread. One by one they turned to look at him. We must not quarrel, not here. The spirits of the Veiled Lands, the spirits who guard the caverns, feed on anger and fear.

  ‘Primitive nonsense!’ said Keela, with a toss of her head.

  Halasaa wheeled to face her. You must be silent, you above all.You began this. If you will not be silent, I will bind your mouth with my own hands.

  It was so astonishing to hear serene Halasaa threatening violence that Calwyn began to laugh helplessly. Keela gaped, then turned away with a sniff and a flourish of her cloak.

  Shame-faced, Tonno helped Calwyn to her feet and brushed her down. ‘Sorry, lass,’ he mumbled. ‘Don’t know what came over me.’

  And you, my sister – Halasaa’s words sounded privately in Calwyn’s mind. The river flows as it should. Be at peace.

  Calwyn heard Marna’s voice, too: You must learn to listen… There was no further debate. In near silence, almost in embarrassment, they made camp. As they pitched the tents, Darrow touched Calwyn’s hand and smiled. Calwyn lowered her head, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

  Later, Halasaa stood behind Darrow, with his hands on the bowed, fair head. Darrow’s stiff shoulders relaxed as the Power of Becoming flowed into him.

  Halasaa, you must care for yourself, too. Calwyn’s words were for him alone. Do not use all your strength. The Dances of Becoming drew their power from the dancer; if Halasaa over-exerted himself, he too might become ill and weak.

  My homeland is helping me. The forests have given me strength.

  Calwyn was only partly convinced. There are no forests here, my brother.

  We are coming to a place with more power than forests.These caverns are called the Heart of Healing. Perhaps they will help Darrow.

  ‘Stop talking to each other,’ said Darrow suddenly.

  Startled, Calwyn stared at him. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘The look on your faces. It’s worse than whispering in a corner.’

  ‘I – I’m sorry.’

  Darrow smiled; the scar on his eyebrow gave his face the quizzical expression she had come to love. He admitted softly, ‘I wish I could speak to you secretly too.’

  Calwyn flushed. But I can speak to you, she reminded him silently.

  For a few moments, Darrow sat very still, wearing the same absorbed expression as Halasaa as he listened.

  Well done, my sister! Halasaa flashed her a secret grin. You help him more than I ever could.

  Do I? Calwyn was startled. Perhaps she was not quite useless after all.

  CALWYN HAD PICTURED the entrance to the caverns as a high, gaping black hole. But the frozen river dipped through a narrow crack in the rock, a mere sliver of dark, and vanished.

  Darrow’s chantment ceased abruptly, and the sleds slid to a stop.

  ‘The sleds won’t fit through there,’ said Trout flatly.

  Halasaa looked at Darrow. We will need the Clarion’s light.

  Darrow drew out the little trumpet, a fistful of golden radiance, like all the weak winter sunlight compressed into one small, gleaming mass.

  Keela shouted suddenly, ‘Catch me if you can!’ and threw herself onto her stomach, sliding head first through the rift in the rock. Calwyn gasped as her skate-blades flashed, a silver echo of the Clarion’s golden light. Then she was gone.

  ‘Keela!’ shouted Tonno. ‘Come back!’

  ‘I always knew she was crazy,’ said Trout with a certain satisfaction.

  We must follow her. But Halasaa seemed frozen to the spot.

  Calwyn hesitated. Then she, too, flung herself onto the slippery ice and launched herself straight for the crack in the rock. The opening was larger than it looked, and there would be plenty of room for the sleds to pass through. The river dipped sharply as it entered the gap; in summer, there would be rapids here. Holding her breath, Calwyn plunged head first down the icy slope into the pitch black cave. She had never known such darkness, even on moonless nights; she couldn’t tell if her eyes were closed or open.

  Suddenly she was spinning out of control, sliding fast across a polished plain of ice. Desperately she flung out her limbs to slow herself. At last she slid to a halt, fighting for breath. She had no sense of the size of the cavern, no sense of direction. ‘Hello!’ she called aloud. Her voice was very small, and there was no echo.

  She sat up, and groped with outstretched hands. Nothing. ‘Hello? Keela?’ she called again, trying to keep the panic from her voice. She could make out a faint glimmer of light, high up and far off to the side, which must be the entrance. The faint light winked out, then reappeared, as someone else shot down into the cavern.

  Then, to Calwyn’s relief, a shaft of clear light blazed out from the Clarion, impossibly far away. The deep, rich hum of the Clarion’s chantment grew steadily as Darrow played, and the light became brighter and brighter. Calwyn had to turn her eyes away, and she saw the cavern for the first time.

  It was gigantic. The roof arched so high that all the Dwellings of Antaris could have fitted inside. The river widened into a pool that filled the enormous cavern from wall to wall, a floor of smooth black ice that reflected the distant walls and a roof dripping with huge icicles. As Darrow’s breath and the light from the Clarion faltered, Calwyn realised that they weren’t icicles but drips of honey-coloured stone that glowed amber in the fading light. She heard Keela shout, half excited, half terrified, from somewhere on the other side of the cave.

  Darrow’s breath gave out, and the pitch blackness engulfed them for a heartbeat, until another sweet note from the Clarion spread a pool of warm golden light. Calwyn struggled to her feet and struck out across the black ice. Out of the darkness Tonno appeared, drawn to the light like an insect to a flame. Then came Trout, and Halasaa, glancing warily all around.

  Keela glided toward them, smiling. ‘You see, Halasaa? It’s not so bad, is it? Nothing to fear after all!’

  Calwyn said, ‘You should have waited for us, instead of taking off like that.’

  ‘No harm done,’ said Tonno.

  ‘Yet.’ Trout gestured ahead. ‘The sleds are over there. They raced through so fast I thought they’d never stop!’

  ‘Better keep the light going,’ growled Tonno. ‘We’ve no torches, and I don’t want to be caught in the dark. That is, if Darrow … ’ ‘I can manage, if the rest of you take the sleds.’ Darrow’s voice was quiet but insistent.

  Pulling the sleds, they followed Halasaa across the ice, past columns of amber-coloured stone that soared overhead into the dark. At the far end of the cavern were the mouths of several dark tunnels; the black ribbon of the frozen river poured away into the lowest of them.

  ‘Which way?’Tonno squinted over the direction-finder.

  We follow the path of the water. Halasaa sounded calm now, as assured as if he’d travelled through these caves a dozen times. But Calwyn couldn’t shake off the prickling at the back of her neck and the tips of her fingers.

  Halasaa led them through the dazzling network of caves, each more splendid than the last: iridescent with blue and purple like a beetle’s wing, glinting with deep green, or winking with the dark fire of opals.Without the guidance of the sun, it was hard to tell how time passed. The rumbling of Trout’s stomach was their most reliable signal of
midday, and then sunset, but deep below ground it was equally possible that only half a day had gone by, or that they’d skated through the dark for a day and a night without rest.

  They came to a cave carved from pure ruby. Blood-red gleams threw back the Clarion’s light with answering flame, as if they moved through the heart of a fire. And yet it was so cold.

  Calwyn fell back a little from the others.The stone reminded her of the ruby ring that Darrow had worn, the Ring of Lyonssar that belonged to the sorcerers of Merithuros. Suddenly, she felt certain that the ring’s gem had been cut from these very walls. This must be a place of power –

  All at once she laughed aloud. Ever since they’d entered the Veiled Lands, a strange feeling had haunted her. Now she realised it wasn’t fear: it was her sense of magic. It had returned to her here – not as strong as before, a mere glimmer of what it had been. But it was real, and it was hers again. There was power all around them, deep in these caves, and she could feel it, in the tingling of her hands and the hum behind her eyes. If not for the skates, she would have skipped for joy.

  Keela, who was closest to her, turned around. ‘Please, do share the joke, darling!’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ Calwyn wasn’t ready to share her discovery, not even with Halasaa, and especially not with Keela. But what if Halasaa were right, and these caves did hold the deepest secrets of healing? If Darrow could be made well here – if she could recover her powers? As she brushed the flickering wine-red walls with her fingertips, Calwyn almost dared to hope.

  With no sunset to signal the end of the day, they pressed on for longer than usual. But when Keela flung down her tow-rope and declared that she wasn’t going one step further, Calwyn was secretly relieved. Her body was heavy with fatigue, and the others, too, moved sluggishly as they prepared the camp.

  They spread the tents on a wide, dry ledge beside the glassy band of the river, and wrapped themselves in their cloaks and sleeping-furs. Darrow used the Clarion to melt, and then boil, a chunk of ice for roseberry-leaf tea.

  ‘This is the best it’s ever tasted!’ exclaimed Trout.

  ‘Mebbe it’s because we’re so tired,’ grunted Tonno. ‘But I will say, this tastes near as good as my own honey potion tonight.’

  This water is steeped in healing power. Halasaa’s words were reverent. It will restore us.

  Calwyn shot a look at Darrow.Was there more colour in his face? He caught her look, and his grey-green eyes smiled. ‘We will all sleep well tonight.’

  Calwyn sipped at the fragrant tea; its nourishing warmth spread through her whole body.When she lay down close to Darrow’s side, she might have been sinking into a featherbed, curled under a pile of duckdown quilts, rather than lying on layers of canvas on hard rock, in a cold, dark cave, under the weight of a whole mountain, far from fresh air and sunlight.

  And yet she was not afraid; no one was afraid. Calwyn felt the same sense of safety as in Halasaa’s caves, as if Tremaris had curved sheltering arms around them, protecting them from danger.The last thing she knew was the steady sound of Darrow’s breath beside her, the warmth of his body curved into hers, and the weight of his arm flung over her.

  THERE WAS NO sunrise to wake them, yet they all woke together, into the dark. Often on this journey Calwyn had longed for more sleep, and tried to put off the moment when she would have to throw off the warm covers and plunge into the freezing air. But this morning she bounded up, bursting with energy, impatient to resume their journey. The little campsite buzzed with excited talk and laughter.The tents were rolled up and hurled onto the sleds, Tonno joked as he pounded out rounds of flat bread, and Keela was so charming that even Calwyn was bewitched by her. Darrow sharpened all the skate-blades with an easy confidence that allayed any fears that his gift of chantment might be about to ebb away.

  ‘Never thought it’d be so beautiful down here,’ confessed Tonno.

  ‘I think I could stay forever,’ agreed Calwyn. ‘Even if I never saw the moons or sun again.’

  In the middle of that day, they entered the most remarkable cavern of all. Halasaa was in the lead, with Darrow and the Clarion just behind to light the way; the others were at their heels, still talking and joking, their spirits higher than ever. But the murmur of cheerful talk died away as, one by one, they skated into the cavern.

  It was a high, vaulted chamber, almost as large as the amber cave. But as Darrow raised the Clarion high, and swept the light to and fro, they saw that this cave was lined with sparkling white quartz, diamond bright as the snow that carpeted the ground far above. Calwyn shielded her eyes as the brilliant light of the Clarion dazzled back from the walls.

  The black ice of their own river snaked forward and vanished, like a ribbon wound onto a spool, into three frozen whirlpools, cupped in white stone at the centre of the chamber. The edges of the pools overlapped, and coils of ice surged and twisted like petrified rope flung into the air. Each pool was a different colour. One was bright, deep turquoise; the second was the pale, fresh green of new leaves; and the third gleamed red-purple, as if it had been stained with mulberries.

  Calwyn unfastened her skates. She knew instinctively that this was a place of such sacred power that to slide on the ice would defile it. On tiptoe, she crept to the very edge of the turquoise pool.

  Behind her, Trout whispered, ‘When the waters aren’t frozen, there must be a tremendous noise in here.’

  Calwyn hadn’t thought of that. She imagined the deafening din as three whirlpools clashed together, noise reverberating around the chamber. But now it was eerily silent, save for their own breath and the muffled clink of skate-blades.

  ‘Halasaa, what is this place?’ asked Darrow, and though his voice was hushed, his words seemed jarringly loud.

  This is the heart of the Veiled Lands, the most sacred place of the Tree People.

  Darrow nodded. ‘The most sacred place in all Tremaris.’

  More sacred than Spareth? asked Calwyn. They say that Spareth is the breath behind every chantment.

  This place was here, long before the songs of chantment came toTremaris, replied Halasaa soberly.

  Trout shivered. ‘I don’t think we should stay here too long.’ It was unlike Trout to give in to what he called ‘superstition’.

  Darrow took his lips from the Clarion long enough to say, ‘There is a presence in this place. Some spirit, cold toward us.’ ‘Ye-es. I feel it,’ said Calwyn. ‘But it doesn’t seem unfriendly, to me.’

  Tonno grinned, a little uneasily. ‘You’re a Tree Person, ain’t you? You and Halasaa, you’re allowed to be here. But the rest of us, we don’t belong.’

  ‘Tonno’s right.We must go on.’ Darrow picked up a towrope to drag one of the sleds onto the rocky ledge that ran around the edge of the cavern, clear of the three knotted pools. ‘Where to now, Halasaa?’

  Halasaa glanced around. Their own river flowed into the interconnected pools; other streams swirled into and out of them, leaving the cavern through half a dozen separate tunnels. For once, Halasaa looked nonplussed. I do not know.

  Tonno and Trout bent over the which-way. ‘Blessed needle won’t keep still!’ growled Tonno. ‘Swinging around like a flag in a gale.’

  ‘Maybe we’re too far underground.’Trout frowned.

  All this time Keela was silent. She had hung back, shifting from foot to foot. Suddenly, she darted a look at Calwyn: their eyes met.

  A strange expression – cunning, frightened, triumphant – flitted over Keela’s face. ‘Catch me, Calwyn!’ she cried. She spun around on her skates, snatched the still-warm Clarion from Darrow’s hand, and sped away, right across the ice to the centre of the turquoise pool.

  At once the glow of the Clarion began to fade. The dimming light wavered wildly as Keela swung the little horn back and forth, daring Calwyn to grab it back. Calwyn hesitated for a heartbeat, then sprinted after her. Keela twirled to face her, waving the Clarion like a challenge.

  Darrow cried, ‘Give it back!’The yells and urgent footfal
ls of the others boomed around the cavern.

  Calwyn leapt at Keela, and they crashed to the ice in a tangle of skates and cloaks. Calwyn felt Keela’s small, strong hand pushing her away, and a sudden agonising pain as Keela kicked her shins with sharp skate-blades. Something smashed into Calwyn’s knuckles: the Clarion. Keela’s nails raked Calwyn’s face, and she gasped, groping for the Clarion. Keela scrambled free and pushed herself backward; as she fled, she hurled the Clarion away as hard as she could, right into the middle of the interlocking pools, the ridged and knotted heart of the ice.

  Like a burning coal on a slab of butter, the Clarion cut a neat hole in the thick crust of ice. A brief glow of gold lit up the ice of the three pools as the little horn sank, and Calwyn and Keela were suspended on a floating floor of gold.Then, in perfect silence, the ice dissolved, melting outward from the spot where the Clarion had disappeared. The ice beneath Calwyn gave way, then Keela screamed as she, too, tumbled into the water. At that moment, the light went out, and the whole cavern plunged into darkness.

  This is how it feels to die, thought Calwyn. The water was so cold that her heart stopped beating. She was in a void of freezing blackness. It stopped her ears, blinded her eyes, filled her mouth. Everything was gone, snatched out of existence: the cavern, Keela, the ice, the Clarion. Her hands, her feet, churned the water, but there was nothing to grasp, nothing to save her.

  There was time to feel regret, for Darrow, for Halasaa, for her quarrel with Mica. There was time to grieve for the very last breath that bubbled from her lungs. She was moving, carried sideways by the water. She felt her hair wrap across her face, and the tug of the silver chain at her throat. The whirlpools were not frozen after all. Under the crust of ice that had seemed so thick, the waters surged and clashed as fiercely as ever.

  Down in the depths, very far away, there was a faint greenish light, as dim as the stars when the moons were full, so dim it was hardly visible. Calwyn fixed her gaze on that faint starlight, and as she sank toward it, the light grew brighter. The Clarion was inside the light, a speck of gold, calling to her. Stars were falling around her like snow. And the blue-green light was singing, singing to her, and she had never wanted anything so much as to be wrapped in that radiant song.

 

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