§
The months passed swiftly. Things quickly returned to normal. For young Gehn these were strangely happy times—strange, because he had never dared hope to thrive away from his mother’s side.
In his eighth year, on the last day of his first term at the GuildCollege, his father and mother visited him. It was an Open Day, and most of the students’ parents were to be there, but for Gehn it was a very special occasion, for he had been chosen to represent the College and read out a passage from the great history of his guild that spoke of the long tradition of the Guild of Books.
The days of illness, of bullying in the night, and tearful homesickness were long behind Gehn. He had become a strong child, surprisingly tall for his age, and confident in all he did, if never outspoken. Yet he was strangely distant with his mother, as if some part of him had never forgiven her for sending him away. It was thus that he greeted her on this special day, with a respectful distance that might have been expected from any other student meeting the great Ti’ana, but not, perhaps, from her only son.
He bowed formally. “Mother. I am glad you came.”
Anna smiled and briefly held him, but she, too, sensed how things were between them. As she stepped back, Aitrus embraced Gehn.
“Well done, Gehn!” he said, grinning down at his son. “I hear nothing but good from your Guild Masters! I am very proud of you boy. We both are!”
Gehn glanced at his mother. He could see that she was indeed proud of him, yet strangely that mattered very little beside the praise of his father. After all, his father was D’ni—of the blood—and a Council member, too. To have his praise was something. Yet he did not say this openly.
“I try to do my best,” he said, lowering his head with the modesty that was drilled into all students.
“Guild Master Rijahna says you have a promising future, Gehn,” Anna said, her smiled more guarded than his father’s. “Indeed, he has talked to your father of private tuition.”
This was the first Gehn had heard of this. He looked to his father wide-eyed.
“Is that true?”
Aitrus nodded. “If you want it.”
Gehn beamed. “Of course I want it! Who would not? Oh, I ache to be like them, Father! Like the Masters, I mean. To know what they know. To be as they are!”
Aitrus laughed. “I understand that feeling, Gehn, but you must be patient, too.”
Gehn lowered his head again. “Of course.” He calmed, matching his demeanor to a more somber mood. “Thank you. Thank you both. I shall make you proud of me.”
Anna smiled and reached out, ruffling his hair. “We are already proud of you, Gehn. More proud than you could ever imagine.”
§
As Gehn finished the oration, Anna felt the tightness in her stomach vanish, her anxiety replaced by a great uprush of pride. To think he had nearly died—and not once but several times! And now here he was, standing confidently before his peers and Masters—yes, and before a great hall full of parents, too—speaking with real feeling and pride of the great tradition into which he had been born.
She glanced at Aitrus and saw the great beam of a smile on her husband’s face and knew he shared all she felt.
My son.
Oh, it was difficult sometimes. Gehn could be cold and distant, but she put that down to his age, yes, and to other things. It had not been easy for him being of mixed blood. Yet he had come through it all triumphantly.
As Guild Master Rijahna stepped up to the podium, he gave a little bow to Gehn. There was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, a trace that vanished as he turned to face the audience.
“And now, guildsmen, ladies, if you would like to come through to the refectory…”
But Master Rijahna had barely formed the word when the whole building shook. He looked up, surprised, as if he had imagined it, but from the murmur in the audience, from the way a number of the guildsmen and their ladies had risen to their feet, he was not alone in experiencing that tremor.
It came again, stronger this time, and with it a low rumbling noise. Dust fell from overhead.
Outside, the great bell of D’ni was sounding.
And there were only two reasons for that bell to sound: the death of one of the Five, or a threat to D’ni itself.
Rijahna swallowed back his momentary fear and leaned upon the podium.
“Ladies, guildsmen. Please remain calm.”
He turned, looking to his fellow Masters and to the young pupils, who stared back at him, silent yet clearly afraid.
“It will be all right,” he said quietly, his voice offering them a reassurance he did not feel. “Be calm and follow me outside and all will be well, I promise you. All will be well…”
§
Anna saw it at once as she emerged from the Guild Hall, there on the far side of the great cavern. A great crack had opened in the wall of the cave, and from it spewed a dark cloud of gas.
She looked to Aitrus, as if he might explain it, but from the expression on his face he seemed as dumbfounded as anyone.
“What is it?” she asked, trying not to succumb to the panic that seemed to be spreading among the people all about her. At the sight of the dark cloud some of the women had started screaming and wailing.
“I do not know,” he said, unable to tear his eyes from it, “but it might be best to link away from here, until more is known.”
“But you will be needed, Aitrus…”
He looked to her. “I did not mean myself. You and Gehn. You should take him home, to the mansion, then go to Gemedet. At once. There are provisions there.”
“And you?” she asked, fearing for him suddenly.
He smiled, then kissed her. “I shall come when I can, Ti’ana. But take Gehn straightaway. And look after him.”
“All right. But take care, my love. And come when you can.”
“I shall,” he said, then, turning, he hastened away, heading for the Guild House.
Anna hesitated a moment, watching Aitrus go, an awful feeling filling her at the sight of him making his way through the crowd; then, determined to do as he had asked, she turned, beginning to make her way back up the steps, anxious to find Gehn.
§
Slowly the dark cloud spread, like a mighty veil being drawn across the far side of the cavern. Inch by inch it crept across the lake, edging toward D’ni, and where it touched the surface of the lake, the light from the lake was extinguished.
The light-giving algae were dying, by the look of it; poisoned by the noxious fumes of the cloud.
And it that cloud were to reach out its fingers to D’ni city?
Then they would also die.
The city below was in turmoil. The shrieks of terror and wailing of the desperate were dreadful to hear. There were great queues now at all of the Common Libraries, as people made their way to the safety of the common Ages.
Anna stared across the cavern for a moment longer, horrified, then hurried on, taking Gehn’s hand and pulling him along behind her. There was not far to go now and she was beginning to think about what she would need to pack—journals and books and the like—when the third tremor struck.
It was by far the largest of the three tremors and threw them both from their feet, showering them with dust and debris.
Walls were crumbling now. Buildings were crashing to the ground. Just up ahead of them, the front of one of their neighbors’ mansions tumbled into the alleyway, throwing up a great cloud of dust.
As the tremor faded, Anna lifted herself onto her hands and knees and turned anxiously. But Gehn was fine: He had a small cut on his brow, but it was almost nothing.
“Come on,” she said, getting to her feet then taking his hand again, “before the next one hits.”
But they had barely gone a dozen paces when the whole cavern seemed to resound like a struck gong.
They clung to each other, waiting for the great ceiling to come down on them or the earth to open up beneath them, but despite the mighty roar of falling
masonry and cracking walls, they came through untouched.
Indoors, Tasera was waiting for them anxiously.
“Thank the Maker you are here,” she said, relieved to see at least two of her family home safe. “But where is Aitrus?”
“He has gone to the Guild House,” Anna said, more calmly than she felt. “He will come when he can.”
Tasera gave a nod of resignation. “Kahlis went, too, as soon as the first tremor struck. No doubt they will return together.”
Anna nodded, then said, “I need to get one or two things from the study. Take Gehn and link through. I will follow you just as soon as I can. Aitrus said we were to link to Gemedet.”
“Gemedet? But surely Ko’ah would be safer?”
“It was what he said.”
Tasera bowed her head, for once giving in to her daughter-in-law. “Then go quickly, Ti’ana. I shall see you in Gemedet.”
§
Anna slipped the knapsack onto her back, then went out into the corridor. Time was pressing now, but she could not go until she had taken one final look at things. Climbing the stairs, she emerged onto the balcony then hurried over to the rail.
The great city was stretched out below where she stood, layer after layer of ancient stone streets and houses, reaching down to the great circle of the harbor and Kerath’s massive arch. Though it was day, lights burned in most of the houses, for a strange twilight was falling over D’ni as the great cloud spread, its poisonous fumes dousing the lake’s soft glow.
The dark cloud now filled almost half of the cavern, its color now discernible as a filthy brown. The edges of it drifted slowly, in a dreamlike fashion, more like a sluggish liquid than a gas. Even as she watched, wispy brown tendrils of the gas extended about Kerath’s Arch and slowly curled across the surface of the harbor.
And where the gas touched, the algae faded, the bright glow dying like sputtering embers.
The sight of it chilled her.
Where are you, Aitrus? she wondered, looking across to the left, where the Guild House stood, its massive, tiered roof dominating the surrounding Halls. Are you safe, my love?
As if voicing the fear she felt at that moment, a great noise of wailing drifted up from the lower city. Many were safe now, but there were still some—hundreds, maybe more—who had not made it to the Common Libraries and the safety of the Ages. It was they who now faced the coming of the great cloud as it slowly filled the harbor with its roiling darkness, then spilled into the narrow lanes and alleyways that led up from the waterfront.
The Maker help them…
Yet even as she thought it, she caught a glimpse of a guildsmen hurriedly ascending the main street that led between the gates, his cloak streaming behind him as he ran. He was carrying something odd, some kind of cylinder, yet she knew at once who it was.
“Aitrus!” she yelled, waving frantically at him.
He slowed, his head turning, and then he waved back at her, hurrying on again, disappearing briefly behind a row of houses, while far below him, like the breath of fate itself, the dark gas slowly climbed the levels, destroying any living thing it touched.
§
It was raining on Gemedet, a fresh, pure rain that, after the nightmare of the cavern, seemed to wash all stain of it from them as they walked down the slope toward the encampment.
Seeing them step out from among the trees, Gehn stood then ran toward them, hugging his father fiercely. The boy’s hair was slicked back, his clothes soaked, but he seemed not to mind.
Picking him up, Aitrus carried Gehn down the rest of the slope and into the shelter of the cabin. Tasera looked up as they entered, a great beam of a smile lighting her face at the sight of Aitrus. Then, seeing only Anna enter behind him, she frowned.
“Where is your father, Aitrus?”
“In D’ni,” Aitrus answered somberly, slipping the cylinder from his back and balancing it in the corner.
“He stayed?”
“He agreed to. Along with the Five and all the other Grand Masters. It was their plan to go to one of the Guild worlds and there to debate things further.”
“Then he is safe,” she said, relieved.
“For a time,” Aitrus answered, taking the mask from his cloak pocket and placing it on top of the cylinder, the end of it dangling from the great silver nozzle.
“What do you mean?”
Aitrus shrugged. “I mean only that none of us knows yet what has really happened or where the gas is coming from. As for the tremors, there were no early signs in the rock, nor is there any history of such local disturbances.”
“So what are we to do? Stay here?”
“For a time, yes. Until things blow over. I have been ordered to remain here for ten days. At the end of that I am to return to D’ni, wearing the mask and cylinder. Others will return at the same time. If all is well, we shall bring the people back to D’ni.”
“And if it is not?” Tasera asked, her face gaunt.
Aitrus sighed. “Then we stay here…for a time. Until we can make things well again in D’ni.”
§
The air was a horrible, sickly yellow-brown, choking the ancient streets and alleyways, as though a wintry fog had descended upon the great tiered city in the cave. Silent it was, and dark, though not as dark now as at first.
Here and there, at crossroads and at gates, lamps had been set on the top of poles. Huge fire-marbles the size of fists glowed red, or blue, or green behind the thick glass panes of the lamps; yet their lights burned dimly, as though through depths of dark and murky water.
Silent it was, yet in that silence the creaking of a cart could now be heard, along with the shuffle of two men, making their slow way through that subterranean place.
As they came into a pool of dark red light, one could see the airtight masks that encased their heads, linked by strong hoses to the air tanks on their backs. They wore long leather boots and thick gloves that reached to their elbows.
Their cart was loaded high, pale hands and feet jutting lifelessly from the midst of that macabre bundle of rags and bones. Leaning forward, they pushed in silence, sharing the weight without complaint. Ahead, just beyond the lamp, was their destination.
Coming to the foot of the steps, they set the handles of the cart down, then began to unload, taking each body by its wrists and ankles and carrying it up into the semi-darkness of the entrance hall.
Here, too, they had placed lamps, lighting the way into the great Book Room.
It was not their first journey, nor would it be their last. For a full week now they had gone about their task, patiently, unendingly, collecting in the harvest of their sowing.
So many bodies, there were. So much illness and death. It was hard to credit that the gas had undone so many. And then the quakes.
While one held the body propped against the podium, the other took its hand and placed it over the glowing panel of the Book, moving his own hand back as the link was made.
The body shimmered for an instant and was gone.
And so on, endlessly, it seemed. A thousand corpses, maybe more: their dead hands, filled yet with living cells, linking into the Ages; their bodies wracked with illness; rife with the contagion that had swept these mortuary streets.
Looking through their masks at one another, the two men smiled grimly.
“Another, Philosopher?”
“Oh, another, my Lord. Most certainly another.”
The two men laughed; a dark and bitter laughter. And then they returned, to bring another body from the cart. To send another of their dark seeds through into the Ages. Destroying the sanctuaries one at a time: finishing the work they had begun.
§
It was the evening of the ninth day. Tomorrow Aitrus would return to D’ni. As the day ended, they sat on a platform of rock just above the falls, just Anna and Aitrus, looking out over the little world they had made.
The sun, behind them, cast their shadows long across the lush greens of the valley. For a long time they we
re silent, then Anna spoke.
“What do you think you will find?”
Aitrus plucked a stem of grass and put it to his mouth. Now that it was evening, he had pushed his glasses up onto his brow, but where they had sat about his eyes, his pale flesh was marked with thin red furrows. He shrugged. “Who knows? Yet I fear the worst. I had hoped some message would have come through earlier than this. Or my father…”
Anna reached out, laying her hand softly against his neck. He feared for his father, more than for himself. So it was with Aitrus. It was always others before himself. And that was why, ultimately, she loved him: for that selflessness in him.
“How long will you be?”
Aitrus turned slightly, looking at her. “As long as I am needed.”
“And if you do not return?”
“Then you will stay here.”
She began to shake her head, but he was insistent. “No, Ti’ana. You must do this for me. For me, and for Gehn.”
The mention of Gehn stilled her objections. Aitrus was right. Gehn was still only eight. Losing one parent would be bad enough, but to lose both could prove devastating, even though Tasera would still be here.
She gave the barest nod.
“Good,” Aitrus said, “then let us go back to the encampment. I have much to prepare before I leave.”
§
It was early when Aitrus set off. All farewells had been said; now, as Anna looked on, Gehn cuddled against her, Aitrus pulled on the cylinder, checked it was working properly, then slipped the airtight mask down over his head.
Seeing him thus, Anna felt her stomach tighten with anxiety.
The Myst Reader Page 59