“Thank you,” Tejohn said. “Tell me about The Blessing. How did it arrive at first?”
“It started with voices.”
“What kind of voices?”
“They were normal voices, but no one was there to speak. We can tell if someone is near, and I knew I was alone the first time I heard it. But the voices told me to meet at the…”
Something about this part of the story piqued Cazia’s memory. Where had she heard about disembodied voices before? Could Dhe be talking about the Tilkilit queen? “To meet where?” she asked, annoyed by his delay.
“It is a place that is forbidden to talk about, even among my own people. The name of the place is not important, and this was not the time of year to perform our holy rituals there.”
“Describe the place for me,” Tejohn said.
Dhe looked as though he wanted to refuse. “Sand and water meet. An ocean. There are buildings, too. It is holy.”
“Did you go to meet there?” Tejohn asked.
“I did. So did many of my neighbors. It was strange to see them again so soon after the turning of the year, but we were all there. And so were they.” For a moment, Cazia thought he was going to pause again, but it was only a moment before he recovered and continued with his story. “They were little fanged creatures. Black and red fur. Four legs. Long tails.” He shuddered. “Fangs. We do not have killing animals in our lands any longer.”
“None?” Tejohn asked. “We know what happens if you take hunting animals out of a forest: the beasts they prey on grow too numerous, destroy the forest, and starve themselves.”
“That’s because you do not know how to control them,” Dhe said. “It’s not my task to do so, but in our lands, beasts breed at just the correct rate to replace their numbers. They don’t have to overbreed to feed predators. We have changed them to make them more comfortable and to fit better with the world.”
We have changed them. The hairs on the back of Cazia’s neck stood straight up. Transformation War, Kelvijinian had said. Were the Evening People planning to change and control humans, too?
“A few of us were bitten as we fled,” Dhe continued. “I was one of them. I returned to my home convinced that I had escaped the worst of it, but I was wrong. The beasts had not intended to devour us, merely to spread the curse. I transformed beside the hearthstone of my own home, and I remember nothing more until I woke in the storeroom beside you, in your lands.”
Tejohn’s voice was grave. “You are far from home.”
“But there is a portal, yes?” A note of hope had crept into his voice. “A way for me to return to my home and my forest?”
“Not at the moment.” Tejohn glanced at Cazia as if expecting her to contradict him. “The portal to your home won’t open again for another twenty-three years.”
Dhe closed his eyes, then opened them. “As my magic returns to me, I can sense that your days and years are longer than those of my home. Still, it is a short time for someone who lives as long as I do. It is rare for one of my caste to be allowed to travel. Perhaps I will have a chance to study the local flora.”
Tejohn strained to be casual when he spoke next, but Cazia could sense the tension in him. “Where were you bitten? Show me.”
Dhe shrugged and lifted the hem of his borrowed robe. There was a scar on his right calf, a long puffy line of daffodil yellow that stood out strongly against his golden skin. Tejohn and Cazia both examined it closely.
“No purple hair,” Cazia muttered.
“No,” Dhe said. “As I said, the anti-magic stone expunged all traces of The Great Way from me—”
Cazia laid her hand on Tejohn’s forearm to forestall the question he was about to ask. “What do you mean, expunged The Great Way?”
“The stones,” Dhe said, as though describing sunlight to someone enjoying a sunny day. “They drive The Great Way out of us for a time. That is why they are deadly to my people; we can not survive when cut off from our gods. But that is also why they cure The Blessing.”
“Are you saying,” Cazia asked carefully, “that The Blessing comes from The Great Way?”
Dhe’s expression became serene and condescending. “All magic does. Is this not obvious to you? Have you never been taught about the source of your magic?”
The Scholars’ Guild keeps its secrets. “I wish we had. Magic and spells come from the gods?”
“Not all of the gods,” Dhe corrected. “The Great Way. When you clear your mind, through mental and physical preparations, you are touching the varied and colossal mind of The Great Way. You are inviting it into you so it may act upon the world for you. If you overuse magic, you may find the god difficult to exorcise. It is a holy thing. Sacred. But like many holy things, it is extremely dangerous.”
Cazia glanced at Tejohn to see if he was as shocked as she was, and saw a much more complex expression on his face than simple surprise. Fire and Fury, but that presence within her, with its detached curiosity and desire to be renowned--which had driven Tejohn to kill Doctor Rexler--was her god? The actual presence of the most powerful god in existence? The one she prayed to regularly?
Had she thought to pray after she’d gone hollow? It occurred to her that she might have spoken directly to her god. She might have… What could she have done? Turned over her life to him? Devoutly entreated him to leave her? Asked him to share some sort of revelation?
Cazia clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling. A Tilkilit stone—she didn’t want to call them with the name of her friend, not now that she knew this—had driven her god away. Was that blasphemy? Would she be permitted to remain on The Way now that she had the knowledge that came with becoming a wizard but without the presence of that Other that was so dangerous?
Unliving but intelligent. Fire and Fury, her magic came from The Great Way, the embodiment of every aspect of a natural life, and when it entered into her, the Tilkilit had driven it out.
Just as she had done to Prince Ghoron.
Cazia realized that she was breathing hard and that sweat was running down her forehead. She took a deep breath. Had she blasphemed against her most powerful god by freeing Ghoron Italga from his celestial influence? Maybe so. Still, if The Great Way wanted to remain inside the man, he should have made him take a bath once in a while. Or clean his tower. If he wanted the man to stay hollow, he should have made going hollow seem less like madness.
“Anyway,” she said aloud, mostly to herself, “the deed is done. Tell me, Dhe: is it blasphemy to drive out the presence of The Great Way?”
“Not to us,” he answered simply. “I don’t know how the gods feel about it.”
“I’ve gone hollow,” Cazia said. When Dhe looked confused, she took a deep breath and composed her thoughts. “I’ve overused magic. I’ve felt the presence of The Great Way within me. It was… It was awful.” God is not supposed to be awful. “I wanted to take things apart to learn about them, and I wanted to do great things that would make me famous. Well, no, it wasn’t me that wanted to do those things, it was…” Unliving but intelligent.
“The presence,” Dhe finished for her. Cazia nodded, and the Evening Person continued. “Those are two sides of the same thing, don’t you see? The Great Way wants to know and to be known. It’s made out of us. Out of travelers. It is part of the world but only connected through the portals. It—”
“Portals?” Tejohn interrupted. Cazia wanted to slap him on the shoulder for interrupting.
“Yes.” Dhe shifted on his bench slightly. “The Great Way is the portal. The single portal that exists in my places and times. There’s only one Great Way, only one not-space not-moment, filled with everyone who has ever passed through. But! That single not-space not-moment opens into many places in many distant lands. You have an unusually high number of them here. Our theologians believe that our god is searching all the lands of distance and patience for something, but we do not know what it could be.”
The Door in the Mountain. And not just the Door in the Moun
tain, but the portal The Blessing had come through, and however many more were out there in the world. “You said you can sense things,” Cazia said. “Can you sense the portals?”
“Oh, yes, there are several within a day’s flight in one of your carts.”
Tejohn bolted off the bench in surprise. “Tell me where they are.”
Dhe flinched as though he expected to be struck, then shrugged and continued reasonably. “There is one in the sky, west of here, above the mountain range. It’s one of the stable portals.”
“Could we--” Tejohn licked his lips and sat on the bench again. “Could we simply fly through it?”
“Not in the carts you have now,” Dhe answered. “Your vehicle could not withstand these winds at their source.”
“Source? What source is this?” Tejohn asked, the tone of surprise gone from his voice. Cazia had the uneasy feeling that he was asking to confirm something he already suspected.
“The world this stable portal connects to,” Dhe said. “In that place, the air is very dense. It flows through the portal like water from a leaking bucket.”
Cazia jumped up and peered through the mouth of the cave. The Sweeps wind… “That’s why this wind in the Sweeps never stops, and why it smells odd. It’s coming from another land.”
Dhe nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
“Old Iskol was right,” Tejohn said for some reason.
“There are others, too. One is buried deep in the stone and has borne few living things through. Others are high in the mountains here, bringing salty sea water from other places into your land.” Dhe touched the bench beside him. A seashell had been carved into it. “Others lie below the surface of the waters, connecting your shores with places of terrible blood and venom. And…more.”
The Great Way allowed The Blessing to invade Kal-Maddum.
No. No, it couldn’t be true. Cazia shut her eyes. The Blessing had killed and cursed helpless children and…and The Great Way had simply allowed it? And the Tilkilit, Mother and her people, spiders, dragons…giant eels and sea giants, perhaps? There was so much blood and pain and terror; was The Great Way indifferent to it all, or were those murdered children part of some great plan?
“All magic comes from these portals,” Tejohn said.
“True.”
“So…” Tejohn rubbed his hands together. “So. So. The Blessing? It’s just a scholar’s spell?”
Cazia looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Is he blaming us?
“Actually, no.” Dhe looked down at the bowl in his lap as though it held him in place. Cazia felt a rush of annoyance with him; if he didn’t want it any more, why didn’t he set it on the bench beside him? “It’s a sort of magic that my people have never learned. At least, I don’t think we know it. I’m not part of the high councils.”
“If it’s not a spell, what is it?”
“It’s something that I didn’t think was possible. It’s a fragment of The Great Way. It’s a piece of its power and conscience, but twisted and corrupted. It’s a foul thing, and I’m sorry that your companions have not been completely cleansed. If you allow them to keep the…” He paused as though he almost said a word he shouldn’t. “…stones, have them covered with metal. Formerly living tissue like cloth or cut wood might transmit the effect, but stone or metal won’t.”
“Why didn’t it affect me when I touched Ivy’s leather bracer?” Dhe quirked his head in confusion. “You saw me do it just now. Ivy took the bracer out of the clamshell, put it on her wrist. I helped her tie it but it didn’t affect me. I can’t figure out why.”
Dhe stared at her a moment. “They’re poison to my kind. One touch would kill me. I was taught how to protect myself, but I never thought I would need it.”
“Of course,” Cazia said. It was probably best to let it go. “Er, if you can sense portals, can you sense The Blessing, too? Are there any near?”
The Evening Person closed his eyes. “I have never tried. I don’t know, but I will attempt to teach myself.”
Cazia wasn’t sure what to say. “Thank you.”
“Dhe,” Tejohn said with a note of finality, “what spells do you know?”
“They aren’t spells to us,” he answered, “but the only magic I can do is to make growing things grow faster without ruining the soil. I’m…not renowned.”
“We don’t need renown. We need stout wooden staves to cure your people and mine of The Blessing.”
“I can do that. I can help with the crops, too.”
Tejohn nodded. “Is there anything you need from us to make that happen?”
Dhe raised the bowl. “An increase in my rations? I would also like to never again be in the presence of those stones you are making.”
Tejohn stood. “I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll ask Esselba to have extra meals delivered to you. Cazia, we should go.”
She followed him out of the cave, her head buzzing with everything they’d learned. At the top of the stairs, Tejohn paused. “What do you think?”
The Great Way allowed this invasion to happen. “I believe him,” she said immediately. “I think we need to rescue more of his people. There’s a lot we could learn.”
“I believe him, too, but we are past the time for more rescues and interrogations. No more holding back, marshaling our strength, or planning. It’s time for a counterattack. We need to get these weapons out into the world before we’re the only ones left to wield them. Ghoron can create a flying cart, can’t he?”
“Er, I think he can put a flying spell onto a cart someone else has made.”
“Yes,” Tejohn said, “that’s what I meant, not that he could hammer one together. Well, we need more.”
“We only have two people who can fly them.”
“What about Kinz?”
Cazia shook her head. “It will take time.”
Tejohn turned to the cliff wall and laid his hand on the rock as though he wanted to take out his frustration on it. Then he turned toward the valley. Cazia stood beside him. The terraced rice paddies and mini-orchards of the unnamed village lay below them, then there was the broad expanse of Lake Windmark. To the east, it narrowed to a finger, but at this end of the Sweeps, it took up almost all of the valley below. Beyond that, the stones of the Southern Barrier rose nearly straight up, while to the east, the land rose gently out of the water, yellow green with marsh grass.
All of it scoured by the Sweeps wind. The grasses bent. The water rippled. How many of the seeds growing out there had blown through the little hole in the sky?
She peered up into the sky in the hopes of seeing it for herself, but it was too far, assuming it existed at all. Fire and Fury, why pretend to have doubts? She did believe it existed. She was sure.
“We’ll need several more days to prepare,” Tejohn said. “You need to make as many kinzchu stones as you can without going hollow. The village folk will have to hammer together a second cart for Ghoron to enchant. The princess will need it when we send her east with weapons for her people.”
“Oh, good.” Cazia’s relief was so palpable, she nearly sat down right there on the stone stairs. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear you say that. Will I be going with her?” The question surprised her; she hadn’t realized that she’d already ceded leadership to him, but she had. Until he made a terrible mistake, of course. Looking at him now, she didn’t expect to do that anytime soon. It’s time for a counterattack.
“No,” he answered. “The Indregai will be receiving many gifts from us: the princess, the weapons, and Dhe. If all goes according to plan, Kal-Maddum will soon be crowded with Evening People, so it’s just a goodwill gesture. You will be flying the other cart. I need you to drop me off at Salt Pass so I can convert Doctor Twofin to our side and mobilize their spears. If they still have them.”
“Drop you off?” Cazia said uncertainly. “On the way to where?”
“To see your father.”
Chapter 20
Tejohn had expected more of a reaction to his plan, bu
t aside from a brief expression of surprise, Cazia seemed to think it was a good idea. The only thing she said was “You know that I’m only fifteen, right?”
“I’m not likely to forget.”
Even before Tejohn had arrived at Tempest Pass, he explained, Tyr Simblin had lost all contact with the rest of the empire. Possibly they had been overrun by sea giants, a fate they had forestalled with bow and catapult for years. Perhaps he had been assassinated. Perhaps anything. All Tejohn could be sure of was that Simblin lands had become a blank space on the map.
That left a single tyr in the westernmost part of Kal-Maddum, Tyr Cwainzik Freewell, her father. Of everyone in this village, Cazia was the only person he was unlikely to execute on sight.
Assuming his holdfast was still secure. Assuming the same about Twofin’s. If both those places were overrun, there might be no one left but the Durdric, and he knew all too well how the Holy Sons felt about Peradaini soldiers.
Cazia looked up at him. “Do you think there are any human beings left in the world besides us?”
Laoni. “If not, there will be soon.”
Preparations went quickly under Winstul’s direction. Tejohn began training some of the local folk to use the kinzchu spears. Another cart was constructed; it was smaller than the first, but it also had less groan and wobble in it. Tejohn wished it could be his, but no. Indrega was far; Dhe and the princess needed a sturdy vehicle.
The cart was large enough to hold three hundred slender spears in a rack on the bottom and twenty more on each side. It was not a lot of weapons to secure an entire peninsula, but it was what they had.
On the morning they were to leave, Dhe climbed into the cart before any weapons were loaded. He stood at the back of the cart stiffly, his eyes wide. Tejohn thought he looked like a rat in a kennel.
The princess made a point of directing the kinzchu spears and maces be loaded with the stones as far from the driver’s position as possible. She was clearly putting on a little show for Dhe, for all the comfort it brought him.
When Kinz announced that she intended to return to Indregai with them, there was a chorus of dismayed voices from the men loading the weapons and provisions. Over the last several days, a half dozen had taken to following her from job to job, making excuses to be near her, even grabbing hold of her arm to prevent her walking away.
The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way Page 23