The Myst Reader

by Robyn Miller

  Veovis turned back to the copy statement, then pushed it away from him. It was no use. There was no way he could answer this. It was like grasping at phantoms.

  He even understood it, now that he had had time to reflect upon it.

  How long had Aitrus prepared this? Since he had refused to countenance the wedding, no doubt.

  Veovis stood and stretched. Was that all Aitrus wanted? To bring him down? Or was there more? Was there some further part he could not see?

  Veovis crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, beside the pile of clothes. He felt weary now and in need of sleep. Too much had happened much too quickly.

  He reached out and picked up the pile of clothes, meaning to move it so that he could stretch out on the bed, but the pile was heavier than he expected. Strangely heavy, in fact. He put it down, then began to sort through it, his brows knitted.

  There! Halfway down the pile his fingers closed on something hard. A book! A leather-covered Book! He drew it out and stared at it, amazed. There was no mistaking it—It was a Linking Book. He opened it. There, on the right-hand page, the tiny panel glowed invitingly.

  It was a trap. It had to be, or a test of some kind. He closed the Book and set it down.

  A trap. Of course it was.

  But what if it was not. What if this was his father’s doing? Veovis stood, then closed his eyes, wracked by indecision. This was his chance to prove himself an honest man. If he handed in the Book …

  He groaned, then sat once more. Who was he fooling? They would find him guilty whatever. The evidence was too strong against him. And what then? Two hundred years, he’d spend, trapped on some hideous, tiny island on a Prison Age, watched every second of the day and night.

  The thought was unbearable. Opening the Book again, he placed his hand against the panel … and linked.

  LORD R’HIRA STEPPED INTO THE EMPTY CELL and looked about him. The Linking Book lay on the bed where Veovis had left it only a moment before. He stared at it, then shook his head. A while later he heard a shout from farther down the hallway—a curse that turned into a groan.

  So now you know, R’hira thought sadly. And what will that knowledge do to you, Veovis?

  The Book had linked to an enclosed room on a different Age, in which was a table. On that table was a second Linking Book and a tank of acid. It was a classic escape maneuver, and Veovis, naturally, had seen exactly what to do.

  But that second Book linked right back to D’ni—to the interrogation cell at the end of the hallway, wherein sat Master Jadaris and his guards.

  R’hira sighed. Had Veovis known it was a test? Or was this simply some final piece of arrogance on his part?

  He turned. Rakeri was standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with the knowledge of what his son had done.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, but Rakeri shook his head.

  “Do what you must,” the old man said. “I wash my hands of him.”

  AITRUS WOKE, NOT KNOWING WHERE HE WAS. It was bright, too bright to fully open his eyes.

  Gemedet. I must be on Gemedet.

  Squeezing his eyes shut again, he searched about him with his hand until his fingers closed upon his glasses. He pulled them on, then slowly opened his eyes again. The filters in the glass made the brightness bearable.

  It was morning. Or maybe afternoon. How long had he slept?

  Then he remembered.

  “Gehn!”

  He sat up, looking about him anxiously, then relaxed. Gehn lay not three feet away from him, swaddled in a blanket where Aitrus had laid him last night. He lay there silently, his tiny glasses shielding his eyes against the light that shone in a broad band through the window just above them.

  Aitrus shuffled across, then picked up his baby son, cuddling him for a moment, then putting a hand lightly to his brow.

  The fever had passed.

  Gehn stared back at him, curiously, his eyes placid, calm. D’ni eyes, for all the doctors said.

  “You came through,” Aitrus said, smiling at him, proud suddenly of his son. “Look at you, there’s nothing of you, Gehn, yet you came through. You lived!”

  There was a noise outside. Aitrus turned. Was it some forest animal, sniffing about the camp? Then he heard the soft hum of Anna’s voice and smiled.

  He stood, carrying the child out to her. She was standing with her back to him, looking out across the valley and the mist-wreathed waterfall. For a moment he simply stood there, watching her, conscious of how the sunlight formed a shining wreath about her long, flowing hair, then he spoke.

  “Ti’ana?”

  She turned, smiling at him. “I wondered when you would wake.”

  “Look,” he said, holding out Gehn to her. “The fever’s gone.”

  “I know,” she said, coming across and taking Gehn from him. “I came in earlier and saw. I thought I’d let you both sleep.”

  He looked up at the sky. The sun was sinking toward the west. “It’s late,” he said. “How long have we slept?”

  “A full day and more,” she said, smiling broadly at him. “It clearly did you good.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. Then, as if suddenly recalling something, he laughed. “You know, I had a dream last night.”

  “A dream?” She looked at him, intrigued. “What kind of dream? A pleasant one I hope.”

  He smiled. “Oh yes. I dreamed we walked the tunnels to the surface. You and I … and Gehn. And you took us to all of those places you have told me of in the past, even to Tadjinar itself.”

  “And the Lodge?”

  “Yes.” He nodded, staring out past her as if he really saw it. “I dreamed that we stayed there and that I sat there in the window with you, looking out across the desert. There was a full moon above us and the sky was full of stars. And Gehn … I could hear Gehn sleeping in the room behind us.”

  “Maybe it will happen, one day.”

  “You think so?”

  She was quiet a moment, then, “I heard what happened … with Veovis.”

  “Ah …” He nodded, then, “I do not know what to think, Ti’ana. The Veovis I knew would never have acted in such a fashion.”

  “Yet people change.”

  Aitrus looked directly at her. “Do they? I am not so sure, my love. What a man is, he is. Though Veovis is no friend, I would yet trust him above many who call themselves my friend. And do you forget … he brought you home that time.”

  “It was but common courtesy.”

  “Was it? And yet that same man is charged with callously murdering two guildsmen. Do you really think him capable of that?”

  Anna looked down, troubled. “Of course … you have not heard, have you?”

  “Heard what?” Aitrus asked.

  “The Five Lords tested him. Secretly gave him a Linking Book, in his cell on Irrat. He took it and tried to escape. No honest man would do that, would they?”

  Aitrus stared at her a moment, then looked down. “So it is true, after all.”

  “It seems so.”

  “And Lord Rakeri? How has he taken the news?”

  “Badly,” Anna said, rocking Gehn gently. “It appears he has taken to his bed. Some say he is dying.”

  Aitrus looked down, touched deeply by the news. “Then it is an ill day for D’ni,” he said quietly. “An ill day indeed.”

  THE NARROW STREETS LEADING TO THE GREAT Guild House were packed as the carriage carrying Veovis rattled through the gates, drawn by two great oxen.

  After twenty days of evidence, the Council was to give their verdict. Never before had so high a public figure been on trial, and never for such heinous crimes.

  To trade in illicit Books was bad enough, but to kill one’s fellow guildsmen, that was unheard of. And that was why they crowded into the narrow spaces between the great houses of the upper city, straining to get a glimpse of the villain of the piece, Veovis.

  Some saw him as a greedy man, for whom great riches had never been enough. Others commented on his hypocrisy and saw his p
rotestations of innocence in the face of such a weight of fact as a sure sign of his mental instability.

  This was the atmosphere in which Veovis stepped down from the carriage, and, climbing the marble steps of the Guild House, crossed the outer room and entered the great chamber to hear the verdict of his peers.

  A temporary gallery had been built at one end of the chamber especially for the occasion—a temporary affair that seated those few dozen guests who had been invited by the Council to bear witness. Among these were the families of the two dead guildsmen, A’Gaeris, and Aitrus’s wife, Ti’ana.

  Anna was now a D’ni citizen. In a private ceremony, a week earlier, she had become by law what blood nor marriage could make her. It was a precedent, but one the Council approved.

  But now the moment had come. As Veovis stepped out between the great doors, a silence fell over the great, circular chamber. From their seats on the various levels, every member turned to look.

  Veovis had had his hair cut stubble short. He wore a simple one-piece of rust-red cloth. There were iron manacles about his wrists, linked by a short length of chain, and manacles at both ankles, from which two fine steel chains led back into the hands of a Maintainer guard; a big man, capable, it seemed, of holding back a team of horses.

  Even so, Veovis stood there a moment with his head high, his eyes as proud, as unbowed, as an eagle’s, then he began to descend the steps, passing between the great pillars.

  Below Veovis, in the center of the chamber, stood the five great thrones of the Five Lords of D’ni, but today only four of them were filled. As Veovis came to a halt in the space before them, the great Lords stared at him like living statues, their dignity immense.

  There was a moment’s silence, tense, expectant, and then Lord R’hira spoke.

  “Guildsmen. Have you decided?”

  There was a resounding “Aye!” from all sides of the chamber.

  “And your verdict?”

  “Guilty!” 360 voices said as one.

  It was done. Veovis seemed to tremble; yet his head did not waver, nor did his eyes show even a flicker of regret. If anything he seemed even more defiant than before.

  R’hira looked to him, his ancient eyes cold, no trace of compassion in them. “Before I come to your sentence, is there anything you would like to say, Guild Master Veovis?”

  Veovis met the ancient’s eyes, then shook his head.

  “Very well. Then it is the decision of this House that you be stripped of all rank and that from henceforth your membership of the guild be annulled. Further, you will be taken from here and on the seventeenth hour fifteen days hence will be transferred to a suitable Prison Age, to be held there for the remainder of your natural life.”

  All eyes were on Veovis. From her seat in the gallery Anna saw how fine, how dignified he looked in this his final moment and felt the slightest flicker of doubt cross her mind. Yet he was guilty. She had heard and seen enough these past twenty days to know that much. Glancing across, she saw how A’Gaeris was leaning forward. What was that gleam in his eyes? Delight that justice had finally been done? Or was it simple gloating?

  She looked down briefly, a shiver of distaste running through her, then looked back, her eyes seeking out Aitrus where he sat in the first row, just behind Veovis.

  As Veovis turned, preparing to climb the steps again and leave the chamber, he halted briefly, right in front of Aitrus, staring down at his once-friend. Something seemed to be said, then he walked on, his bare, manacled feet climbing the stone, the big Maintainer trailing behind.

  Anna waited, as the great Lords ended the session, then, as the members began to stand, a great murmur of talk rising in the chamber, she hurried quickly down the steps.

  Aitrus was standing in the midst of a tiny group of other members. As she stepped into their circle they broke off their animated discussion, bowing to her respectfully.

  “What did he say?” she asked, looking anxiously to Aitrus.

  He hesitated, conscious of the others listening. “Not here, Ti’ana.”

  She frowned. “Did he threaten you?”

  Aitrus shook his head, but he was awkward now. Looking about him apologetically, he stepped across the circle and, taking Anna’s arm, led her away.

  “Well?” she asked, when they were outside, out of the hearing of the others. “What did he say?”

  Aitrus turned from her, as if he could not face her. He seemed pale now, discomfited. “He blames me.”

  “Is that what he said. That he blames you?”

  Aitrus shook his head.

  “Well, tell me, Aitrus. What did he say?”

  Aitrus turned, looking directly at her. “‘You should have let me fall.’ That’s what he said.”

  “But you are not to blame.”

  “No? I wish I could believe that. At the end there, watching him—even after all that was said and shown—do you know what I thought? I thought he was innocent. That is what I thought. And yet I said ‘Aye’ with all the rest. And sent him to his rock.”

  “Do you want to do something? To say something, perhaps, to the Five?”

  He laughed bitterly. “What could I say? No. I must live with this, Ti’ana. Knowing I might have been wrong. Yes, and knowing that I was the one who set the wheels in motion. Those great wheels of the D’ni state that can crush a man as easily as our great hammers pound the rock.”

  They stood there a moment, silent, staring at each other, and then Anna took his arm and led him out. Yet even as they stepped out beneath the massive arch at the front of the Guild House, the great bell on Ae’Gura began to sound, sending its sonorous tones across the cavern.

  Lord Rakeri was dead.

  PART SIX: THE INK IN THE WELL

  IT WAS THE FOURTH ANNIVERSARY OF GEHN’S naming day and a solemn ceremony was taking place in the family mansion in D’ni. Until today, Gehn had been a child, free to play as a child played, but from this hour onward he would take the first steps toward becoming a guildsman.

  Looking on, Anna felt deeply for her son. Standing amid the guild officials, little Gehn looked terrified. His hair had been cut and he was wearing guild clothes—duplicates of those his father, Aitrus, and his grandfather Kahlis wore as they stood on either side of him. In front of them, behind a special trestle table that had been set up in the room, stood Yteru, the Grand Master of the Guild of Books. It was to his guild that Gehn was to be apprenticed, and the boy would join them in their halls two weeks from now.

  Two days ago, knowing how much her son was dreading the occasion, Anna had gone to Aitrus in his study and asked him if Gehn really did need to join the guild just then. He was sure to miss home dreadfully, but Aitrus was adamant. It was the D’ni way, and if Gehn was to be considered D’ni and make his eventual way in the world, then he must conform to the ways of the guilds.

  And so she was to relinquish him, long before he was ready to be taken from her. It would break his heart and hers, but maybe Aitrus was right. Maybe, in the long run, it would be best for him. Yet she had her doubts.

  As the Grand Master called the boy forward, she found herself praying silently that he would remember the words she had taught him—the words of the guild oath.

  Slowly, stumblingly, Gehn forced them out. As he finished, Master Yteru smiled benevolently down at the child, then, in a slow, sonorous drawl, uttered the words of acceptance.

  And so it was done. Her son was now a guildsman.

  Afterward, she held him, telling him how proud she was, but she could see the fear of separation in his eyes.

  Aitrus had been saying his farewells to the guildsmen; now he came back. He stood in the doorway, looking in at her and Gehn. “Are you angry with me?”

  She nodded.

  He sighed, exasperated. “I am sorry, Ti’ana, but you know how things stand. It is the D’ni way, and we cannot afford to act differently. That would be self-indulgent. You knew that when you became D’ni.”

  “I know,” she said, as angry at hersel
f as at him, “but I did not think it would be so hard.”

  “No. But there is one thing we can do. Before Gehn goes, that is.”

  “You want to go to Gemedet?”

  Aitrus shook his head. “I promised you once. Remember?”

  At first she did not understand; then her eyes widened.

  He nodded.

  “Yes, Ti’ana. It’s time our son saw where his mother came from.”

  THE JOURNEY THROUGH THE TUNNELS TOOK two days. On the morning of the third they came to the cavern where the two great digging machines stood silently. As Anna and Gehn came up beside him, Aitrus turned to them and smiled.

  “We are almost there.” He pointed across at the great red wedge of rock facing them. “There is the seal. The surface must be just above.”

  Anna nodded. “This is where I came in. I remember it vividly. The machines …” She stared at them fondly, then smiled. “Do you know what I thought, Aitrus?”

  “No, tell me.”

  “I thought I had discovered the tomb of a great king. And these … I thought these were the remains of some great civilization, a long-lost race of giants, perhaps, or …” She laughed. “Little did I know.”

  Aitrus looked at her fondly. “I am glad you chose to look, Ti’ana. But for that curiosity of yours, I would have been lost.”

  Anna looked away, a smile on her lips. “Oh, I am sure some young D’ni maiden would have found you.”

  He laughed. “Maybe. But let us press on now. I am impatient to see the surface.”

  Gehn, who had been silent until that moment, now spoke up. “Daddy? Why did we not link to the surface?”

  Aitrus came back and, crouching before his son, began to explain. “If this were a different Age, then we might have linked to it, but the surface is in the same Age as D’ni and one cannot link to a place in the same Age.”