The Myst Reader

by Rand; Robyn Miller; David Wingrove

  That last made a strange and sudden sense to her. So they were inside. And the water. Of course…Something must be in the water to make it glow like that.

  As the boat glided out onto the lake itself, Anna took in for the first time the sheer scale of the cavern.

  “It’s magnificent,” she said quietly, awed by it.

  The captain turned, glancing at her, surprised by her words. Then, as if conceding something to her, he pointed to his right.

  “There. That is where we are headed. See? Just beyond the bluff. It will come into sight in a moment.”

  There was a pillar of some kind—a lighthouse maybe, or a monument—just beyond the great heap of rock that lay directly to their right, the top of it jutting up above the bluff. Yet as they rounded the headland, she saw, with astonishment, that the pillar was not as close as she had presumed. Indeed, it lay a good two or three miles distant.

  “But it’s…”

  “Over three hundred and fifty spans high.”

  Anna stared at the great column of twisted rock that lay at the center of the glowing lake. Three hundred and fifty spans! That was over a mile by her own measure! Somehow it didn’t seem natural. The rock looked as if it had been shaped by some giant hand. Looking at it, she wasn’t sure whether it was hideous or beautiful; her eyes were not trained to appreciate so alien an aesthetic.

  “What is it called?”

  “The ancients called it Ae’Gura,” he answered. “but we simply call it The Island. The city is beyond it, to its right.”

  “The city?”

  But it was clear that he felt he had said too much already. He looked away, falling silent once again, only the swish of the oars in the water and the creak of the boat as it moved across the lake breaking the eerie silence.

  §

  Veovis sat in the corridor outside Lord Eneah’s study, waiting, while, beyond the door, the elders finished their discussion.

  He had been summoned at a moment’s notice, brought here in the Great Lord’s own sedan. That alone said much. Something must have happened—something that the elders wished urgently to consult him about.

  Veovis smiled. He had known these men since childhood. He had seen them often with his father, in both formal and informal settings. They ate little and spoke only when a matter of some importance needed uttering. Most of what was “said” between them was a matter of eye contact and bodily gesture, for they had known each other now two centuries and more, and there was little they did not know of each other. He, on the other hand, represented a more youthful, vigorous strain of D’ni thinking. He was, as they put it, “in touch” with the living pulse of D’ni culture.

  Veovis knew that and accepted it. indeed, he saw it as his role to act as a bridge between the Five and the younger members of the Council, to reconcile their oft-differing opinions and come up with solutions that were satisfactory to all. Like many of his class, Veovis did not like, nor welcome, conflict, for conflict meant change and change was anathema to him. The Five had long recognized that and had often called on him to help defuse potentially difficult situations before push came to shove.

  And so now, unless he was mistaken.

  As the door eased open, Veovis got to his feet. Lord Eneah himself stood there, framed in the brightly lit doorway, looking out at him.

  “Veovis. Come.”

  He bowed, his respect genuine. “Lord Eneah.”

  Stepping into the room, he looked about him, bowing to each of the Great Lords in turn, his own father last of all. It was exactly as he had expected; only the Five were here. All others were excluded from this conversation.

  As Eneah sat again, in the big chair behind his desk, Veovis stood, feet slightly apart, waiting.

  “It is about the intruder,” Eneah said without preamble.

  “It seems she is ready,” Lord Nehir of the Stone-Masons, seated to Veovis’s right, added.

  “Ready, my Lords?”

  “Yes, Veovis,” Eneah said, his eyes glancing from one to another of his fellows, as if checking that what he was about to say had their full approval. “Far more ready, in fact, than we had anticipated.”

  “How so, my Lord?”

  “She speaks D’ni,” Lord R’hira of the Maintainers answered.

  Veovis felt a shock wave pass through him. “I beg your pardon, Lord R’hira?”

  But R’hira merely stared at him. “Think of it, Veovis. Think what that means.”

  But Veovis could not think. The very idea was impossible. It had to be some kind of joke. A test of him, perhaps. Why, his father had said nothing to him of this!

  “I…”

  “Grand Master Gihran of the Guild of Linguists visited us earlier today,” Lord Eneah said, leaning forward slightly. “His report makes quite remarkable reading. We were aware, of course, that some progress was being made, but just how much took us all by surprise. It would appear that our guest is ready to face a Hearing.”

  Veovis frowned. “I do not understand…”

  “It is very simple,” Lord Nehir said, his soft voice breaking in. “We must decide what is to be done. Whether we should allow the young woman to speak openly before the whole Council, or whether she should be heard behind closed doors, by those who might be trusted to keep what is heard to themselves.”

  “The High Council?”

  His father, Lord Rakeri, laughed gruffly. “No, Veovis. We mean the Five.”

  Veovis went to speak then stopped, understanding suddenly what they wanted of him.

  Lord Eneah, watching his face closely, nodded. “That is right, Veovis. We want you to make soundings for us. This is a delicate matter, after all. It might, of course, be safe to let the girl speak openly. On the other hand, who knows what she might say? As the custodians of D’ni, it is our duty to assess the risk.”

  Veovis nodded, then, “Might I suggest something, my Lords?”

  Eneah looked about him. “Go on.”

  “Might we not float the idea of two separate Hearings? The first before the Five, and then a second—possibly—once you have had the opportunity to judge things for yourselves?”

  “You mean, promise something that we might not ultimately grant?”

  “The second Hearing would be dependent on the success of the first. That way you have safeguards. And if things go wrong…”

  Eneah was smiling now, a wintry smile. “Excellent,” he said. “Then we shall leave it to you, Veovis. Report back to us within three days. If all is well, we shall see the girl a week from now.”

  Veovis bowed low. “As you wish, my Lords.”

  He was about to turn and leave, when his father, Rakeri, called him back. “Veovis?”

  “Yes, father?”

  “Your friend, Aitrus.”

  “What of him, father?”

  “Recruit him if you can. He’s a useful fellow, and well liked among the new members. With him on your side things should prove much easier.”

  Veovis smiled, then bowed again. “As you wish, father.” Then, with a final nod to each of them in turn, he left.

  §

  Eneah sat at his desk long after they had gone, staring at the open sketch pad and the charcoal image of his face. It was some time since he had stared at himself so long or seen himself so clearly, and the thought of what he had become, of the way that time and event had carved his once familiar features, troubled him.

  He was, by nature, a thoughtful man; even so, his thoughts were normally directed outward, at that tiny, social world embedded in the rock about him. Seldom did he stop to consider the greater world within himself. But the girl’s drawing had reminded him. He could see now how hope and loss, ambition and disappointment, idealism and the longer, more abiding pressures of responsibility, had marked his flesh. He had thought his face a kind of mask, a stone lid upon the years, but he had been wrong: It was all there, engraved in the pale stone of his skin, as on a tablet, for all who wished to read.

  If she is typical…

  Th
e uncompleted thought, like the drawing, disturbed him deeply. When he had agreed to the Hearings, he had thought, as they had all thought, that the matter was a straightforward one. The savage would be brought before them, and questioned, and afterward disposed of—humanely, to a Prison Age—and then, in time, forgotten. But the girl was not a simple savage.

  Eneah closed the sketch pad, then sighed wearily.

  “If she is typical…”

  §

  “Veovis?”

  Veovis looked up, no sign of his normal cheeriness in his face. He looked tired, as if he had not slept.

  “Ah, Aitrus. I’m glad you’ve come.”

  Veovis gestured to the chair facing him. They were in the great Common Room in the Writers Guild Hall. The huge, square room was filled with big, tall-backed armchairs. It was a favorite place for guildsmen to come and talk, but few of the chairs were filled at this early hour of the day.

  Veovis smiled faintly, then looked at him. “Lord Eneah summoned me last night.”

  “And?”

  Veovis lowered his voice. “And they want me to help them.”

  “In what way?”

  “They want to cancel the Hearings.”

  Aitrus sat forward. “But Lord Eneah announced the Hearings before the full Council. He cannot simply cancel them!”

  “Exactly. And that is why he hopes I can persuade individual members to let the matter drop.”

  “Is that why I am here? To be persuaded?”

  “No, old friend. You will decide as you decide. But my father wanted me to speak to you, and so here you are.”

  “I don’t follow you, Veovis.”

  “He wants you to help me. He thinks you might.”

  “And what did you say to him?”

  “I said I would speak to you. No more.”

  Aitrus laughed. “Come now. No games. Do you want my help or don’t you?”

  Veovis smiled. “I’d welcome it. If you’d give it.”

  “Then you had better tell me everything.”

  §

  That evening Aitrus did not return to his rooms in the Guild Hall, but went back to the family home in the Jaren District, which was in the upper northeast of the city, overlooking the Park of the Ages. His mother was delighted to see him, but it was his father, Kahlis, he had come to see.

  Stepping back from her embrace, Aitrus looked toward the polished stone stairway that led up to the second floor.

  “Is Father in his study?”

  “He is, but he is very busy, Aitrus. He has a report to finish for the morning.”

  Kahlis looked up as Aitrus entered the big, book-lined room, and smiled wearily at him from behind a great stack of papers he was working on. “Ah, Aitrus. How are you?”

  “Can I speak with you, Father?”

  Kahlis glanced at the paper before him, then, setting his pen back in the inkstand, sat back.

  “It is important, I take it?”

  Aitrus stepped across and took a seat, facing him. “This matter with the intruder bothers me.”

  “How so?”

  “I went to see Veovis early this morning. He asked me to call on him at his Guild Hall. His mood was…strange. I asked him what it was, and he said he had been asked to undertake a task, on behalf of the Five, and that he needed my help.”

  “And you promised you would help him?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what exactly is the problem?”

  “I do not like what I am doing, Father. I gave my word before I understood what was involved.”

  “That is most unlike you, Aitrus.”

  “Perhaps. But Veovis is my friend. To refuse him would have been difficult.”

  “I understand. But what exactly is it that you find so difficult about the ‘task’ the Five have given you?”

  Aitrus stared at his father. “You have heard nothing, then?”

  “What ought I to have heard?”

  “That the girl now speaks fluent D’ni.”

  Kahlis laughed. “You jest with me, Aitrus. Word was she could barely grunt her own name!”

  “Then word was wrong.”

  Kahlis took that in, his expression sober suddenly. “I see. Then the Hearings will be soon, I take it.”

  “That is just it,” Aitrus said. “The Five no longer want to hold such hearings—not before the full Council, anyway. They want the sessions to be held in private, with only themselves in attendance. And they have charged Veovis and myself with the job of persuading members of the Council to that viewpoint.”

  Kahlis stared at him. “I am glad you came to me, Aitrus, before any damage could be done. Lord Eneah made a promise to the full Council, and that promise must be upheld.”

  Kahlis stood and came around his desk. Aitrus also stood, turning to face his father. “So what will you do?”

  “I will go and see Lord Eneah, now, before this matter goes any further. I will tell him that I have heard rumors and that I want his confirmation that they are untrue.”

  “Then you will say nothing of my part in this?”

  “Of course.” Kahlis held his son’s arms briefly. “Do not worry, Aitrus. I understand the delicacy of your predicament. If Veovis thinks you came to me, he will blame you for whatever trouble follows. But I shall make sure that Lord Eneah does not get that impression.”

  “Yet he might guess…”

  Kahlis smiled. “Between guessing and knowing is a long dark tunnel. I know it is not in your nature to deceive, Aitrus, but it might be kinder on your friend—yes, and on yourself—if you kept this meeting with me to yourself.”

  Aitrus bowed. “I had best go, then.”

  “Yes. And Aitrus, thank you. You did the right thing.”

  §

  Lord Eneah was already in bed when his servant knocked on the door.

  “Yes, Jedur, what is it?”

  A face only a degree or two less ancient than his own poked around the door and stared at him.

  “It is Grand Master Kahlis, my Lord. He knows the hour is late, but he begs a meeting. He says it is of the gravest importance.”

  Eneah sighed, then slowly sat up. “Ask Master Kahlis to allow me a moment to refresh myself, then I shall come and speak with him.”

  “My Lord.” The wizened face disappeared.

  Eneah slid his legs around and, throwing back the single cotton cover, put his feet down on the cold stone of the floor. There had been a time when he had enjoyed the luxuries his post had brought him, but nowadays he embraced simplicity in everything.

  He walked across to the washstand in the corner of his spartanly-furnished bedroom and, pouring water from a jug into a bowl, washed his face and hands, drying himself with a small cloth.

  His cloak of office hung on a peg behind the door. He took it down and pulled it on, buttoning it to the neck.

  “There!” he said, smoothing one hand over what remained of his ash white hair, staring at his face in the small mirror he had had placed on the wall only two days ago. “Now let us see what Master Kahlis wants.”

  Kahlis was waiting in the study. As Lord Eneah entered the room, he stood hastily, bowing low.

  “Forgive me, Lord Eneah…”

  Eheah waved the apology away. “What is it, Kahlis? Has it to do with the plans for the new cavern?”

  He knew it wasn’t. Kahlis would hardly have got him from his bed for such a matter. No. He knew already what it was. In fact, he had half expected one or other of them to come to see him. The only surprise was that it was so soon.

  As Eneah sat, Kahlis stepped forward, standing at the edge of his desk.

  “No, my Lord, it has nothing to do with the plans for the new cavern. Rather, it is to do with certain rumors that have been circulating throughout the day.”

  “Rumors?” For a moment longer he played innocent, staring back at Kahlis hawkishly. “You wake me to talk of rumors, Master Kahlis?”

  “I would not have bothered you with such, Lord Eneah, were they not concerned with
a matter of the gravest importance.”

  “And what matter would this be?”

  “The matter of the hearings.” Kahlis hesitated, then. “Word is that the Five wish to hold the hearings in secret, behind locked doors. Is that so, my Lord?”

  For the first time, Eneah smiled. “It is so.”

  Kahlis, who had clearly steeled himself for a denial, blinked. Then, “Might I ask why, my Lord?”

  Eneah gestured to a chair. “Take a seat, Master Kahlis, and I shall try to explain. It might indeed help us were you to understand our thinking on this matter.”

  §

  Aitrus was seated at his desk in the corner of his study, trying to catch up on his work before he left for the Guild House, when there was a sharp rapping on his door. He stood, then went across and opened it. It was Veovis. Brushing past him, Veovis stormed across and threw himself down on the padded bench, his face dark with suppressed anger.

  “Have you heard?”

  “Heard? Heard what?”

  “The Hearings. They are to go ahead, after all. The Five have changed their minds. They will take place a week from now.”

  “Before full Council?”

  Veovis nodded, but he was not looking at Aitrus; he was staring straight ahead of him, as if recalling the meeting he had just come from. “It is a mistake. I told Lord Eneah it was a mistake. And they will rue it. But he was adamant. A promise is a promise, he said. Well, I would not argue with that, yet circumstances change.”

  “You think it might be dangerous, then, to let the girl speak?”

  Veovis glanced at him. “Is there any doubt? No, the more I think of it, the more certain I am. The girl has a natural cunning. It is that, more than anything, that has allowed her to master our tongue.”

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, I know it. And I fear that she will use that same native cunning to try to manipulate the Council. Why, I have heard that she has beguiled several of those who were sent to study her, weedling information from them when they least suspected it. And her audacity!”