by Clark Bolton
“Was Lord Ober-Toss the Chancellor that put you here?”
“Yes, he is Regent of Key-Tar-Om.”
Yi-La found herself seething as she considered the possibility Ober-Toss and Pesnu-Jok had somehow arranged for this very meeting well in advance. “Narween may need to stay here,” she told them with a glare.
“Yes, Fu-Sa,” they said in unison.
“She’ll have enough to eat and a place to sleep?”
“Yes, we get things when we need them from the librarians,” Rua-Nap assured her.
After some time, she put aside thoughts of conspiracy, and asked in frustration, “Do either of you think you have earned an Owesek-ring?”
It was a bold question she knew, and she had no idea at this point if they were that knowledgeable, but the spell-casting she had seen so far seemed beyond that of the Seechen. Exactly how much of the misinformation fed to them on the sixth-path could they hope to rectify was the question. Such thoughts made the task of taking someone from the sixth-path, such as Narween, to the seventh seem monumentally impossible at the moment.
“We can’t say, Fu-Sa,” Rua-Nap admitted. “You’re the first dragon-mage to test us.”
“I haven’t tested you yet,” she assured them, “but I will test your resolve not to teach Narween anything I don’t approve of first. I don’t need her un-learning more then she has to.”
The weight of her command could be seen on the faces of all three of them. Yi-La promised herself at that moment that she wouldn’t pity the two brothers, because that wouldn’t help Narween.
“Will you tell the masters, Fu-Sa?” Bua-Nap asked with head slightly bowed.
“No,” she said definitively. “We have sworn to do what we must in order that Narween learn true magecraft.”
Her ring glowed warmly as she said this.
Chapter 24
The descent took them almost until noon of the following day. The wondrous temple of Shrindala was distracting to Ich-Mek, and several times Tass reprimanded him for not looking where he should. When they reached a ledge that was two-thirds of the way down the inside cliff of the butte, they were surprised to be greeted by a joyous monk.
“How did he get there?” Ich-Mek asked as he sat resting on the wide ledge.
The pillar of rock the young monk stood on was only half as high as the ledge, yet close enough for them to wave at each other and shout greetings back and forth. The monk was wrapped in a kind of golden cloth that Ich-Mek had seen on other monks in nearby villages.
“He’s not going to shoot arrows at us, is he?” Ich-Mek then asked.
“Monks do not kill,” Tass replied gruffly.
“I think he knows us,” As-Cheen suggested. “He’s calling your name, Tass.”
They looked to the monk again, and this time Ich-Mek thought maybe the boy was yelling Tass’s name. He couldn’t remember Tass telling him that they would be expected. In fact, Ich-Mek’s understanding was that Tass hadn’t been back here in at least a full cycle of Key-Tar-Om School. That meant at least fourteen years, and maybe as many as twenty-one since – the time between cycles could be as long as seven years.
“How come he knows you?” Ich-Mek asked.
“He knows of me,” Tass said proudly. “Word spreads quickly in the mountains.”
Ich-Mek shared a concerned glance with As-Cheen then. Spreading news was also responsible for the tall men waiting for them in the village, he guessed.
“They don’t look mad we came down the cliff. Thought they would be.”
“You are the dragon-mage,” Tass replied as he lowered ropes in preparation for their final descent.
“Yeah, but how could they know that?”
“More are coming,” As-Cheen then interjected.
Ich-Mek looked to see a line of monks, nearly a hundred of them, moving in a single column. They looked to be returning from the village, which made him concerned about who might be following.
“They have returned with alms,” Tass informed them.
“What’s that?” Ich-Mek asked as he prepared to cast a levitation spell.
Tass shook his head angrily at Ich-Mek’s apparent gross ignorance. “You are the dragon-mage,” he mumbled.
“And you are a dirty little man,” Ich-Mek muttered to himself, before casting the spell on As-Cheen.
The monks were lined up like soldiers by the time they had made their way across the canyon floor. Those few who had greeted them at the bottom of the cliff quickly set down their packs, which they had insisted on carrying, and rushed to fill in the ranks.
Gongs sounded, and Ich-Mek became very self-conscious about the whole spontaneous ceremony. Everyone was patient, and kind to him – even Tass, who kept bowing insistently to the senior lamas like they were royalty. Nuns dressed in white appeared, and soon they had As-Cheen wrapped up in white as well. Ich-Mek could see that her bare elfish legs had been wholly inappropriate here.
All had to eat before the noon bell, Tass informed Ich-Mek, and so they were led into a truly massive alcove of the temple. Here figure after figure was carved into the rock, each being higher than twenty men. These figures seemed to support the roof, and so a pleasant and, to Ich-Mek, regal dining hall was formed.
The men did not eat with the women, Ich-Mek learned when he asked about As-Cheen. He could see her now at the far side of the seemingly endless line of figures. He ate quickly, and was surprised at the excellent food, for he had assumed it would be much simpler fair served in such a holy site.
“I thought it would be a big shrine,” he admitted to Tass after the meal.
Shrindala Temple was now as overwhelming to him as it had been during their descent of the cliff. The temple was built into the cliff face, and seemed to own it now. Towers jutted out in many places and reached halfway up the impossibly high cliff. Ich-Mek was still amazed they had descend it without harm.
“The lamas come,” Tass warned him.
After the meal, they had been led into a large circular chamber that was lined with windows. In the center was a broad wooden platform on which they were invited to sit. As-Cheen was brought in, and behind her came several older monks.
“Shrindala sees its light,” a distinguish dressed lama announced. “I am Reshun. Please be at rest.”
Ich-Mek let Tass do the introductions, and most of the bowing, before they all settled down to talk. He had a thousand questions to ask them, and hoped they had only a few to ask of him.
They had expected him, which he wasn’t surprised to hear as he had assumed Tass’s many relatives had sent word ahead. But then it became clear they meant this in a prophetical sense. The number of years since an Owesek-mage had come to Shrindala was apparently over four-hundred, and this signaled the start of the renewal prophecy.
“Why has no one come?” Ich-Mek asked when the time seemed appropriate.
“Mages of the palace are few, Fu-Si,” Reshun replied. “The golden light of Ibu-Jek forbids their numbers to grow. We are all but forgotten until the next death.”
The vague reference to the Emperor made him think of Master Huehan, his short-lived master. Huehan was dead now, which made Ich-Mek wonder if another visit was due. As he thought about this, he wondered if his visit was being confused with another seemingly impending one.
“Do you know of Master Huehan’s death?”
“We do, Fu-Si,” Reshun replied. “It saddened many of us that his resting place was chosen to be elsewhere.
“Then this is where dragon-mages are buried?”
“We do not bury, Fu-Si,” one of the other lamas replied respectfully. “Here, bodies are interred until the world ends.”
“Not all dragon-mages are interred here, Fu-Si,” Reshun then told him. “Many are cremated and have their ashes spread across mountains or rivers. Others wish their empty flesh consumed.”
“Consumed?” Ich-Mek asked hesitantly as he looked to As-Cheen to see what she thought of the practice.
“Lammergeyers most often provide
this service, Fu-Si,” the lamas told him. “A bird of prey,” they informed him when it was apparent by his face that he didn’t know what a lammergeyer was.
Ich-Mek could see now that As-Cheen was trying to hide the smirk on her face. He wished very much now to be alone with her to hear what she thought of the temple.
“Do you know if Huehan’s body will be brought here?”
“The time has passed for that, Fu-Si,” Reshun informed him. “What has become of the body we are not privileged to know.”
“Then I must open the temple door?”
“Yes, Fu-Si.”
“What if I can’t?” His question drew strange smiles from some of the monks, and a frown from Tass.
“The renewal prophecy assures you will, Fu-Si,” Reshun said confidently. “If not, then the gods end our time.”
“No!” Tass dared to object. “He will do it. The end of the world has not come!”
“I agree with, Tass,” Reshun said kindly, “but let our mage decide.”
Ich-Mek sat speechless and confused, until Reshun explained the temple’s purpose, and the prophecy. Shrindala was created thousands of years ago under the direction of the first emperor; this was in a time before the dracomons came to the throne. Its purpose was to prepare for the end of time, so that those interred within could rise again, and bring life back to the world.
“The renewal prophecy speaks only to the dragon-mages’ part in our existence,” Reshun went on to say. “They have left us, and the prophecy tells us one will come to herald their return. After this the quantum will never fill.”
Ich-Mek then found himself surrounded by chanting monks.
__________________________
“This is the quantum,” Tass informed Ich-Mek as they entered through a door that Reshun himself unlocked.
Ich-Mek thought at first that the chamber was small, and he could see by the light shining through the doorway that some urns were stacked up near it. Then torches were brought in, and he saw that the quantum was filled with urns, thousands of them. The ceiling was high above them, and in places there was hardly enough space to walk.
“It’s like the library at Key-Tar-Om,” Ich-Mek exclaimed, “only not books and scrolls.”
“Hush, Ich-Mek,” Tass scolded. “Only monks have seen this until now. We three are the first others to see it.”
“Why us?” As-Cheen asked as she took a step back toward the door.
“To show us the need!” Tass whispered.
“They said it was full,” Ich-Mek said as he looked back at the doorway.
No monks had entered, and he was feeling just a little bit apprehensive about walking far from the door. The purpose of this place, he knew, was to store the urns of the dead until the next dragon-mage showed. But four-hundred years had passed now, and there was no more room to temporarily house these urns.
“Why don’t they keep them in the village?” Ich-Mek asked.
“No!” Tass replied in a low whisper. “Tradition requires it be here only.”
“Well, what are they doing now that it’s full?”
“They accept no more,” Tass replied sadly. “People are losing faith…they send their dead away.”
Shaking his head sadly, Ich-Mek announced, “I’ve seen enough.” Then he walked back through the doorway.
His heart began racing when he realized what was coming next. They had yet to be shown the door to the inner sanctum, and now that time had come. He didn’t want to let anyone down, and kept telling himself that wasn’t going to happen.
Ich-Mek was surprised when they were led further down the canyon. When they came to wide steps their small column stopped. Looking up, he could see ornate carvings on the flat stone rock face, which went up as high as he was able to make out, and that was with his head all the way back.
When the head lama started up the steps, he realized part of this rock face was an enormous door; too big, he thought, to be real. Looking down at its base he tried to make out the door he was expected to open, but saw only a patiently waiting lama.
The area before the door was wide, and long enough for hundreds to await its opening. Ich-Mek felt dwarfed by the structure, and wondered for a moment how they could even budge such a door if he did manage to unlock it.
“This whole thing is a door?” he whispered to Tass as they climbed the steps.
“Yes, Ich-Mek.”
“How can I—”
He cut himself off as As-Cheen came to take his hand. He was thankful she did, and squeezed her hand to let her know this. When he got near the foot of the door, he almost paused as he came to recognize the Owesek seal that was inscribed at eye-level. It had been etched across the seam of the door, like some kind of glyph, he realized.
“How long do I have?” he asked in a strained voice.
He had touched his Owesek-ring to the seal to no effect, and as he thought about it later he realized what a stupid thing it was to do. No one had dared stop him, and no one had said a word when the gigantic door had failed to open. Thankfully now the first attempts were behind him, and so he was left now with As-Cheen and Tass, and a single monk.
The monk’s name was Puc, and his apparent job was to run messages back and forth to the lamas. Waving the monk back, so he wouldn’t get hurt by anything the dragon-mage was thinking on doing, Ich-Mek cast his repertoire of detection spells, then turned away from the door.
“I’m blind!” he complained loudly, as he tried to blink the image of the temple from his eyes.
“You ok?” As-Cheen called out.
He nodded his head as he tried to figure out what kind of animal she was petting. Finally, his eyes stopped watering enough for him to guess that it was a cat.
“Where did that come from?” he asked her.
“He’s cute,” As-Cheen cooed. “What is it?”
“Haven’t you seen a cat before?”
“I’ve played with snow-leopard kittens.”
“Yeah, well these don’t eat people when they get bigger.”
“They should,” she replied with an upturned nose.
“Sorry…they don’t get any bigger.”
He then noticed several more. In fact, they were coming out of a shelf-like structure attached to the temple a short distance away from the door. Walking over to it, he lifted up one of the notched lids and found a cat sleeping inside. Checking others, he found them all lined with soft grasses and sedges.
“Makes a good bench,” he muttered as he sat down on the shelf.
He’d only seen a cat a few times at Key-Tar-Om School, and once or twice in some of the villages of Wa. Trying to pet one, he found it just backed slowly away from his hand, then scurried off.
“They don’t like me.”
“They don’t know you,” As-Cheen teased.
“Oh, and they know you!”
She smiled at him as she sat surround by cats, all vying now for her attention. Soon they were jumping in her lap, and rubbing against her newly bared legs.
“You’re going to scare Puc with those legs,” he warned.
“You are a dragon-mage,” Tass suddenly interjected loudly.
Ich-Mek smiled at As-Cheen before turning to give Tass a glare. “What, you don’t like cats?”
Tass ignored him, then turned to say to As-Cheen, “They bless you!”
“Thank you,” she said as she continued to play with the cats.
“Why are they here, Tass?” Ich-Mek wanted to know. He knew Tass was hinting strongly for him to get back to trying to open the door, but he felt he was deserving of a break.
“They bring spirit blessings,” Tass replied irritably, “and kill useless vermin.”
“Is that a hint, Tass?” Ich-Mek mumbled as he climbed to his feet. “Can they get into the temple?” he asked absently before turning to look toward a distant Puc.
“Only a dragon-mage may open the door.”
“Puc…” Ich-Mek called out, then chuckled softly at what Tass had just said. “Okay,
Tass!” Then he shouted to Puc, “Send me your librarian!”
The monk looked confused, and so trotted over to them. Ich-Mek tried to explain who it was he wanted to talk with, and finally settled on asking for the most learned monk. Still, Puc didn’t understand, so Ich-Mek told him to just go find someone.
He went back to the bench, then peeked under a lid before sitting on it. “You sat on short-tail,” As-Cheen complained with a pout. “Now he can’t get out.”
“Did not!” he snapped. “There is no stupid cat in here.”
“Why must animals be stupid to you?” she asked as she walked over and nudged him aside.
Lifting up the lid, she looked surprised there was no cat in it. Then she stuck her head into the box for a few moments.
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he admired her form.
“There is a hole in the wall,” she replied before backing away and closing the lid.
“What?” he exclaimed, before throwing the lid open to see for himself. “I can hardly fit my hand in there,” he declared in disappointment.
“Why do you care?” she asked as she opened the lid to look down the hole again.
“Thought you were talking about a hole big enough to crawl into.”
“It goes all the way through the wall, I think,” she said before suddenly letting out a screech and jumping back. “There is something in there!”
“Yeah, a cat!”
“Nooo! Big eyes like a leopard.”
He looked at her skeptically. She had a mischievous side to her that he sometimes fell for. He couldn’t believe she would be tricking him now though, not at this temple, and certainly not with grumpy old Tass watching. Peering carefully down the hole he saw nothing, so he went down the whole line of thirty or so boxes, leaving each one open. He found two more holes like the first one.
By cupping his hands around the sides of his eyes he blocked out all the light from one hole so he could possibly see the light shining in from others. What he saw got him very excited.
“There are shelves back there…with scrolls!” he exclaimed to an unimpressed As-Cheen.