Dirk caught up with her at the dark gaping archway that was the entrance to the Labyrinth. They both stopped and stared up at the alien writing chiseled into the stone.
“What does it say?” Tia asked.
“I don’t know. It’s the same writing as the arches in Bollow, but I couldn’t read that either. Did Neris ever mention what it said?”
“Not that I recall.”
Dirk held the torch out in front of them as they stepped inside. The walls were smooth and slightly curved, etched faintly with symbols Tia did not have time to stop and examine. The darkness was oppressive, the temperature cool after the heat outside. About thirty feet into the tunnel, Tia stumbled into Dirk as they found the remains of a twisted doorway.
“This must have been Neris’s first trap.”
Dirk nodded silently as he helped her up and they stepped over the obstacle. They crossed several more ruined gateways, spaced about fifty feet apart. At one gate, they had to climb carefully over a huge granite slab. Dirk held up the torch and looked up at the hole in the ceiling from where the slab had fallen.
“I hope nobody was under that when it fell,” he remarked.
They walked in silence for a time, the darkness closing in on Tia with smothering intensity as they made their way past the remains of the traps Neris had set in the Labyrinth. As they neared the remains of the seventh trap, they discovered a narrow bridge over the gaping hole in the floor. Tia glanced down as she crossed the rickety structure behind Dirk, wondering how far down it went. She could just see the faint glimmer of sharpened spikes poking up through the gloom.
Once past the collapsed floor, the hall curved, and what little daylight filtered into the tunnel disappeared. Tia unconsciously moved closer to Dirk and the security of the light he carried. She had never realized until this moment that she was afraid of the dark, probably because until now, she had never experienced true darkness.
The twelfth gate was little more than a hole in the wall and gave no hint as to what had been triggered when the Shadowdancers had forced it open. Tia stepped through, her pulse beginning to thump erratically as the darkness of the tunnel closed in on her.
“You know, strictly speaking,” said Dirk, “this isn’t a labyrinth at all.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, suddenly glad that he had spoken. His voice helped drown out the pounding in her ears.
“A true labyrinth is a single path heading toward a goal at the center.”
“Isn’t that what this is?”
“Sort of. But this doesn’t seem curved enough. It has a mouth, like a true labyrinth. But we should be walking a circuit. The walls are supposed to keep you on the path until you reach your goal in the middle of the labyrinth, which is actually only the halfway point, because then you still need to turn around and walk out.”
“Fascinating, I’m sure,” she agreed, rolling her eyes.
“All right,” he admitted. “I’m being pedantic, I’ll grant you that, but even though there’s a bend in it, the path is too straight. This is just a tunnel, really. If it was a true lab— Wow!”
Tia bumped into Dirk as he stopped suddenly and held the torch high. The tunnel stopped abruptly. They were confronted by a solid wall constructed of polished granite, its surface mottled with golden flecks that spidered across the surface of the stone like the veins on an old drunkard’s nose.
“You’re supposed to be the second greatest mind on Ranadon and the best you can do is ‘wow’?” she asked, trying to cover her nervousness with sarcasm.
He walked to the barricade blocking the way forward, holding his torch even higher to get a better view. Into the wall were set six slightly raised blocks, laid out in a circular pattern. Each block was etched with a number, but as Dirk moved the torch along to light the whole wall, she could see no logical sequence to them.
“This is amazing!”
“So is Neris,” she reminded him, reaching out to touch the wall. The granite was cold to the touch, hidden here in the darkness. “Or at least he was.”
“How did he build this?” Dirk asked in awe, running his fingers over the number four hundred etched into one of the raised blocks.
“He didn’t.”
Dirk looked back at her in confusion.
“He designed it, but he didn’t actually slave away for years dressing the stone and sliding every block into position himself. Belagren sent him here to Omaxin, remember. It was her idea to have Neris seal the caverns so that nobody else could discover their secret. She sent him up here with everything he needed— tools, laborers, craftsmen—the works. Do you think we’ll be down here long?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her, looking rather amused. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”
“No ... maybe ...”
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “We’ll light the tunnel better when we come back.” He turned back to stare at the wall. “What happened to the people who constructed the gates, do you suppose? Why didn’t Belagren just ask one of them how to get through?”
“Rumor has it she tortured more than a dozen of them to death before she realized that knowing how to grind a spring doesn’t make you a master clockmaker. Nobody but Neris ever really understood how it worked. Can you open it?”
“I don’t know,” he said, studying the wall closely.
“Well, if you do figure it out, just be damn sure you’ve got it right before you try it. The gate may be booby-trapped, remember. Get it wrong and you die—rather painfully, from what I saw on the way in.”
“That’s what I like about you, Tia. You always look on the bright side. What did Neris tell you about the gates, anyway?”
“Not a great deal.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Did I really bring you all this way because of your expert knowledge of the Labyrinth?”
“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one who assumed I knew something about it.”
“Why do you suppose Paige Halyn sent Neris to Omaxin in the first place?” he asked, turning back to the wall in fascination.
“What do you mean?” But what she really wanted to ask was: “Why can’t we discuss this outside?”
“Why Omaxin?” Dirk mused. “Why not the library in Nova? Or the cellars in Elcast, for that matter? Why these ruins? How did he know Neris would find the answer here?”
Tia shrugged. “Maybe it was a lucky guess. Or an unlucky guess, if you count what happened afterward.”
“No. It doesn’t make sense. The Lord of the Suns sent the only mathematical genius he had to a ruin in the middle of nowhere, when there were a score of other places he could have used his talents better. Belagren and the others were just along for the ride, really. Paige Halyn must have had a reason.”
“Well, why don’t we stop by his place on the way back through Bollow and ask him?” she suggested impatiently. And can we please leave?
“Maybe we should,” he agreed thoughtfully.
Tia glared at his back. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. Can we go now?”
“Look at this.”
With an exasperated curse, Tia stepped up beside him and looked up. He was pointing to an inscription chiseled into the stone above the numbers. It was not written in the ancient script of the ruins, but in the common tongue, which meant Neris had probably put it there.
“ ‘There is an eye that cannot see,’ ” she read in the flickering torchlight. “ ‘This is a place that must not be. But in the order of the making, patterns lurk there for the taking.’ ” She read it again and then glanced at Dirk. “What does it mean?”
“I was hoping you’d have some idea. He’s your father.”
Tia shrugged. “Well the first bit is pretty obvious. ‘There is an eye that cannot see. This is a place that must not be.’ He’s referring to the Eye of the Labyrinth and the fact that Belagren wanted it destroyed.”
“Really?” he asked in mock amazement. “And they say I’m the genius!”
She sl
apped at his arm impatiently. “All right! So even Eryk could have figured that out. But what does he mean by ‘In the order of the making’? Do you think he’s talking about the way the gate was made?”
“I’ve no idea.”
Tia pointed to the numbers chiseled into the raised blocks. “Four, twenty-five, fifty, one fifty, two hundred, four hundred,” she read. “What do you suppose the numbers are for?”
“That’s the mechanism that works the gate, obviously.” He pointed to a faint line running vertically down the center. The doors were fitted together so neatly that she had not even noticed the seam the first time she looked at the wall. The craftsmanship of the stonemasons who had constructed the gate was impressive. “Of course, the trick is going to be finding the right sequence to open it.”
Tia nodded and took the torch from Dirk’s hand. “Then you’d better get to work, hadn’t you? I’m going back outside.”
He seemed amused by her apprehension. “There’s nothing in here that can hurt you, Tia.”
“Fine. You stay here and play Lord of the Shadows. I need sunlight.”
He studied her closely for a moment, perhaps realizing how oppressed by the darkness she was really feeling, and then nodded. “We’ll go back outside for now. I need to get something to write these numbers on anyway.”
“Let’s go, then,” she agreed, turning toward the entrance. When Dirk did not follow her immediately, she turned back to him. “ Now, Dirk! It’ll still be there when you get back.”
With a great deal of reluctance, Dirk turned his back on the gate and, in a surprising show of understanding, he wordlessly offered her his hand.
She took it without question, her fear of the dark outweighing any other feeling she might have for him at that moment and hand in hand, they walked back through the Labyrinth into the light.
Chapter 52
Rather to her surprise, Alenor’s cousin, Jacinta D’Orlon, accepted her invitation to join her at court and arrived from Bryton not long after Alenor wrote to her, on a shabby-looking trader named the Orlando. She arrived without pomp or ceremony, presenting herself at the palace unannounced and demanding to see the queen. Alenor was delighted to see her cousin again.
Jacinta favored the D’Orlon side of the family. She was taller than Alenor, with rich, dark brown hair and eyes that seemed to change color with her mood, framed by thick dark lashes. At nineteen, she was something of a disgrace to the D’Orlon family, in that she had, to Alenor’s knowledge, refused at least five potential husbands presented for her approval. She ran the risk of becoming an old maid if she was not married before she was twenty, a circumstance that appeared not to bother her in the slightest, but was driving her mother to distraction.
Jacinta embraced her warmly, and then held the queen at arm’s length for a moment and examined her critically.
“My, aren’t you all grown up now, little cousin!” she exclaimed with a smile. “Good thing you’re wearing that crown or I’d never have recognized you.”
Alenor self-consciously snatched the crown from her head and dropped it on the side table. “I’ve been with the council,” she explained. “I don’t wear it all the time.”
“I should hope not!” Jacinta laughed. Then she turned to Dorra, who was watching the reunion with interest. “You can go now, my lady. Alenor and I have lots of catching up to do.”
“Your majesty?” Dorra asked, looking at Alenor. She was not going to let Jacinta order her about.
“You may go, Dorra.”
The lady-in-waiting bowed and walked from the room, clearly displeased that she was no longer required.
“Goddess, Allie! This place is crawling with Senetians! Why do you put up with them?”
“I have little choice in the matter, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “But let’s not talk about them. Tell me everything you’ve been up to!”
Jacinta took a seat and smiled at her. “Let me see, what have I been up to? Well, I told my mother that I wouldn’t marry Lord Birkoff from Tolace if he was the last man on Ranadon, which rather upset her plans for a big wedding at Landfall. Can you imagine me married to a Senetian? So then I applied to the university on Nova and got accepted, until they found out I wasn’t really a boy from Lakeside. Mother nearly had apoplexy when she found out. The worst thing was that they offered that wretched little brother of mine a place, and the only reason he got in was because I did all the work for him. When your letter arrived I was tossing up between running away to sea and just killing myself to relieve the tedium.”
Alenor laughed. “If you’ve been causing so much trouble, I’m surprised Lady Sofia let you come.”
“I reminded her of how much more likely it would be that I’d find a suitable husband at court,” Jacinta told her with a wink.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Alenor sighed, as she sat beside Jacinta on the settee, surprised at how much she had missed having someone to confide in.
“The feeling is mutual, little cousin,” Jacinta assured her. “My mother’s next plan was to introduce me to that slimy little turncoat Baston of Damita, so you’ve probably saved me from a fate worse than death. I’m yours to command, your majesty.”
“Will you stay, Jacinta? Will you be my lady-in-waiting?” “What’s the dreaded Lady Dorra going to have to say about that?”
“I don’t really care. I’m the Queen of Dhevyn now. I can have all the ladies-in-waiting I want.”
“Then I accept. On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That you introduce me to all those big handsome Guardsmen you have lurking around the palace.”
Alenor laughed. “I thought you weren’t looking for a husband?”
“I’m not, Alenor. But just because I don’t want to buy anything doesn’t mean I can’t browse around the store.”
Impulsively, Alenor hugged her. “I wish you’d come sooner. It’s going to be so nice to have a real friend around.”
Jacinta studied her curiously. “I would have thought with you being a newlywed, you’d be too busy with your husband to want any other friends intruding, Allie.”
Very little got past Jacinta D’Orlon, Alenor thought. Alexin was not just flattering her when he said that she was as sharp as a diamond blade.
“Can I tell you something, Jacinta? You must promise to keep it a secret. It’s worth more than my life if it got out.”
Jacinta’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
She lowered her eyes, and her voice to ensure they were not overheard. “I’ve never been with Kirsh. For that matter, I’ve never been with anyone. Kirsh has a mistress. She’s a Shadowdancer. I told him he couldn’t have us both.”
“Good for you.”
“You’re not angry with me?”
“Of course not! I’d have done exactly the same thing.”
“Alexin said it was a foolish thing to do.”
“He’s a man. What would he know?”
Alenor smiled faintly. “He said you’re in league with the Baenlanders, too.”
“Then he has a big mouth.”
“Are you?”
“I’d be admitting to treason if I answered that, Alenor.”
“So you are,” she concluded. “Good. So am I.”
Jacinta stared at the queen for a moment and then shook her head. “I think it’s a good thing you did send for me, Alenor. By the sound of things, you’re swimming way out of your depth.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Alenor sighed.
“Then I think you’d better tell me,” her cousin said. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on around here.”
If Alenor had any lingering doubts about the wisdom of sending for Jacinta, they evaporated completely a few days later, the first time her cousin met Marqel. By then, Jacinta knew everything that was going on, including the identity of Kirsh’s paramour.
She had been a little concerned that Jacinta might do or say something that would inadvertently betray her. Marqe
l still believed that Alenor had no idea about her affair with Kirsh, and it would be courting disaster to let the Shadowdancer even suspect that Alenor knew the truth. But when she met the Shadowdancer for the first time, Jacinta greeted her warmly and immediately engaged Marqel in a conversation about the comparative benefits of lavender oil and jasmine oil. Jacinta had studied herb lore for a time. Jacinta had studied just about everything at one stage or another, Alenor was convinced. She was an intelligent young woman, doomed to a future as the wife of a nobleman because she had the misfortune to be born a female and was related by marriage to the Dhevynian royal family. As she watched Jacinta and Marqel talking, she smiled wistfully, thinking it was a pity she could not introduce her to Dirk. He would have liked Jacinta.
“Your majesty?”
“Yes, Dorra?” she replied, turning to glance over her shoulder at her senior lady-in-waiting, who had been more than a little put out since Jacinta’s arrival.
“Are you expecting his highness this evening?”
Jacinta’s head jerked up at the question. “Honestly, Lady Dorra! What sort of thing is that to ask our queen? Look at her, you’ve made her blush!”
“I simply wish to know if I should turn down both sides of the bed, Lady Jacinta,” Dorra responded testily. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”
“It’s a terrible question!” Jacinta declared. “I think the queen deserves at least a modicum of privacy, don’t you? I certainly don’t think it’s any of our business how often Prince Kirshov spends his night in her bed, and I’m appalled that you would embarrass Alenor by asking her such a thing so publicly. Don’t you agree, Lady Marqel?”
Not surprisingly, Marqel was firmly on Jacinta’s side. “I believe you’re right, Lady Jacinta,” she nodded, obviously warming to Alenor’s new lady-in-waiting. “The queen and her consort deserve our protection, not our questions.”
“Well said, Lady Marqel! I can see you and I are going to get along very well.”
Alenor really did blush this time, but mostly because she could not believe that Jacinta would so blatantly ridicule Marqel and Dorra, and that neither of them had the faintest idea that she was doing it.
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