Transformation

by Kara Dalkey

  “As much as possible about how to get us where we’re going, I hope.”

  Nia just hoped he wasn’t learning anything she didn’t want to know. She couldn’t tell Corwin the reason that she was so reluctant to go—while she’d been healing Gobaith, Nia had had . . . not so much a vision but an impression, a feeling. A feeling she wasn’t going to see Atlantis again, not anytime soon. The unis could only show the near future, of course. Further events were too much in flux to be clear or certain. But still . . .

  Gobaith finished his immersion in the souls of his ancestors and brought the sword back to Corwin. What a wonderful, wonderful thing. I wish I could carry it always. But it isn’t for me.

  “You can hold it all you like,” Corwin said, “as long as you let me have it back when it’s time to fight Ma’el.”

  No, Gobaith sent. There’s something I have to tell you. I’m not coming with you.

  “WHAT?” Nia and Corwin exclaimed at the same time.

  While I was being interrogated by Joab, I learned that not all of the infant Farworlders were killed. Ma’el intends to breed and raise them, so that he will always have fresh oculae to harvest. I have to find them and protect them. I can’t desert them—if they aren’t given proper nurturing, they could be very dangerous, to the mermyds as well as themselves.

  Nia and Corwin exchanged a horrified glance. “But what if we need your magic and your energy?” Nia protested.

  You have the sword now. It will give you more than I could. And I can always offer advice, even from far away. Please understand, and don’t be upset. There’s much good I can do here. I will help Callimar rebuild Atlantis, too.

  “We’ll miss you, little squid,” Corwin said.

  And I will miss you, Gobaith sent. Now prepare yourselves. I suggest you both hold onto the sword.

  Nia and Corwin stepped close together. Each grasped hold of the hilt of Eikis Calli Werr, and put the other hand around each other’s waist. Gobaith went to the control panel with its symbols and dials and crystals. Nia closed her eyes, feeling strangely helpless. If fate had determined that she and Corwin were going to be defeated, what was the point?

  But she reminded herself that the prophecy of the High Council about her had been misinterpreted. Maybe she was misinterpreting this vision from the unis, too. As Corwin rested his forehead against the top of her head, Nia felt the energy from the oculus in the sword hilt flow over her. She could almost hear the voices of the Farworlder ancestors whispering in her mind. She wanted to ask them, Will I die? But they weren’t interested in her question. Instead, they probed her mind for images of Corwin’s land, of places she remembered the best. They were preparing to bend the unis, to send Nia and Corwin where they had to go.

  Good-bye! Good luck! Gobaith pulled down on a lever and again, Nia felt the gut-wrenching sensation of the world falling away from them, of being free of the pull of the Earth, free of water, free of air, free of the need to breathe or to have a heartbeat.

  Corwin and Nia spun around and the sword flipped up, out from between them, to point over their heads. Nia and Corwin held each other closer as the sword pulled them swiftly through the folded unis. Nia kept her eyes shut, not wanting to see the strange geometrices of this other side of the universe. Probably even the wisest instructors who had ever served at the Academy had no names for what they were passing through. Selfishly, Nia realized she wished she could just stay here, suspended in time and space, with no more struggle, no more pain, holding onto Corwin forever.

  With a shock, a splash and a crack of thunder, they fell into cold water. Saltwater. Nia’s feet struck sand and she let go of Corwin and the sword. To her surprise, her head popped above the surface. Corwin surfaced a moment later, still holding the sword. Wiping the water from her eyes, Nia glanced around. They were in Carmarthen Bay.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Well aimed, Gobaith,” Corwin murmured as he wiped the water from his eyes. The sun was lowering in the sky to the west. The leaves on the trees were tinged with gold in anticipation of autumn. Corwin realized how strange it had been to be in a world where he didn’t know the time of day, or the season of the year, at a glance. “We arrived more swiftly and smoothly than the first time. I’ll give Ma’el credit for that: he builds a better people-sender.”

  “If only he’d used his skills to help Atlantis instead of destroy it,” Nia commented. She began to walk out of the water, slogging through the shallows as though she felt very heavy.

  “I guess you’re not too happy about being back in this big dry room I call home,” Corwin said. For the first time, he realized that he really did think of Britannia as his home. Is it just that it feels good to be somewhere familiar? he wondered. Or am I really tied to this land in my soul? And what does that mean for my future with Nia?

  Corwin waded out of the ocean and up onto the rocky strand. “The question now,” he said, “is where, exactly, do we find Ma’el?”

  “At the shrine,” Nia replied. “The center of power.”

  “Mmm-hmm. And do you happen to remember where that is?”

  Nia frowned. “Between here and Castle Carmarthen?”

  “Yes, but that covers a lot of ground.”

  “Somewhere past that foggy pond?”

  “Right.” Corwin sighed. “And where’s the foggy pond?”

  “It’s . . . I thought you knew where it was!”

  “Well it’s not like we thought it was important at the time, did we? We just stumbled across it while we had other places to go.”

  Nia sat down on a rock. “Of course. Why did I expect this to be easy?”

  Corwin sat down beside her. “Look, the good news is, if we don’t know where it is, Ma’el doesn’t either, since he got the information about it from your mind.”

  “And the map in the Archives.”

  “The map wasn’t very specific . . . it just showed this big dot that could be anywhere within a hundred miles of here.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Nia said.

  “I know I’m right,” Corwin said, with a little more confidence than he felt. “Maybe this magic sword can point the way.” Corwin held it up and pointed it toward the forest-crested cliffs. “Oooo Eikis Calli Werr, oh mighty magic sword, point the way to the Atlantean center of power,” he intoned.

  Nia rolled her eyes.

  The sword wavered a bit and then the point fell back into the water, narrowly missing Corwin’s foot. “Hey!”

  “I don’t think the Farworlder ancestors want to be toyed with,” Nia said. “Besides, maybe if the center isn’t active, there’s nothing for the sword to sense.”

  “So we won’t be able to know how to find it until Ma’el is already there and using it?” Corwin looked at the sword. “Big help you are.”

  “The sword wasn’t made to do everything,” Nia said. “It was only supposed to help bring peace.”

  Corwin nodded, noting that the sun was continuing to lower. “Ma’el might send the kraken again to slow us down,” he said. “We need to find shelter somewhere and figure this all out.”

  “Where should we go?” Nia asked.

  An hour later, as the sun was setting, Corwin, with Nia leaning on his shoulder, was knocking on the rotting door of Henwyneb’s cottage. He heard a raucous cry within. “Rawk-rawk-rawk-rawk!”

  “No . . . it couldn’t be . . . “

  The door creaked open. The wrinkled, sightless face of old Henwyneb the button-maker, appeared in the doorway. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Corwin, the fellow who used to sell you shells and nearly got you in trouble with royalty.”

  “Corwin! So that’s your name. Come in, come in!”

  “And was that noise I heard—”

  A black, feathered projectile zoomed past his head and arrowed for the trees beyond, lightly raking his face with its talons as it passed.

  “Nice to see you again too, Nag!” Corwin called, rubbing his cheek.

  “Oh, ignore him,” Henwyneb said. �
��He’s as rude as any cat. Caws to be let in, caws to be let out. When he first called at my door, I thought you were done for, so I let him in out of kindness. Now he’s made himself at home and made a mess of it. Come in, come in.”

  Nia laughed. “It’s good to see some things don’t change.”

  Henwyneb gasped again. “Is this the mermaid lady of Atlantis returning as well?”

  “It is,” Corwin said. “And I’ve told her such wondrous things about your cooking that she decided she has to sample it.”

  “I’m afraid you must prepare yourself for disappointment, my lady, but you’re welcome to try it.” Henwyneb stepped back from the door and Corwin and Nia walked in.

  The smell of the fish soup on the hearth did make Corwin’s stomach growl. He politely helped Nia to one of the two wooden stools and then sat on the rush-strewn floor. He felt instantly at home and at peace and wondered how some people’s houses could seem so inviting, no matter how well or poorly furnished.

  Henwyneb ladled out the soup in bowls and gave them to Corwin and Nia. “Now tell me all your adventures since I last saw you.”

  “There’s a lot to tell and we don’t have much time.” Still, Corwin related an abbreviated version of everything that had happened after they’d last left Henwyneb’s home.

  “There were rumors,” Henwyneb said when Corwin finished, “that King Vortigern was chased away by a red dragon that appeared in his cellars. These rumors included the detail that a certain ward of a certain charlatan named Fenwyck had prophesied that very thing. I don’t suppose you’d know anything more about that?”

  “Well,” Corwin said. “For one thing, it was a kraken, not a dragon, and that wasn’t quite the vision I’d had and . . . oh, this is getting too complicated. Let’s just say we found what we wanted and returned to Atlantis to try to destroy the evil king Ma’el, who had terrorized Nia’s people. We didn’t quite succeed. And we have reason to think Ma’el has come back here to use that ruined shrine—it’s called a center of power by Nia’s people—to gain final control over the world. We have to stop him before he does.”

  “Ah,” Henwyneb said. “I think I know what you’re describing. Even the druids won’t go near that place. They say its power is too great, too potentially dangerous—it’s a magic of a world beyond our world.”

  “That sounds like our shrine,” Corwin said, with an excited glance at Nia. “But we don’t know if we can find it again. We weren’t really paying attention the first time we stumbled across it. Is there any way you could give us a better idea of where it is exactly?”

  “Well, I could lead you there myself, if I had my sight,” Henwyneb said. “I used to play near those ruins as a boy. I even slipped inside once and saw marvelous wall carvings . . . couldn’t make heads or tails of them, though. I was pretty frightened, so I made sure I knew where it was in order to avoid ending up there again.”

  “You said you could lead us if you had your sight,” Nia said. “And I did promise you that if I returned, I would use my healing powers to give it back to you. Would you still like that?”

  Henwyneb’s jaw dropped. “Dear lady,” he breathed, “you don’t know what I would give for such a gift.”

  “You don’t need to give us anything,” Corwin said. “Just show us the way to the shrine.”

  “Gladly, gladly,” Henwyneb agreed. “Whenever you’re ready to begin, my lady.”

  Nia stood and went to Henwyneb, placing her hands over his eyes. Corwin could feel her summon the energy from both him and Gobaith. It was amazing how the connection with Gobaith remained strong, even though they were so many miles apart. A glow radiated from Nia’s hands, flowing over the old man’s face and down over his chest, arms and legs. Henwyneb’s eyes soon echoed the glow until it seemed as though he was lit from within. His face was upturned in a rapturous smile. Corwin remembered how wonderful the healing had felt when he and Nia had performed the Naming with Gobaith, and he smiled too.

  Nia stepped back, reeling a little. Corwin stood and put his arm around her shoulders to steady her.

  Henwyneb sighed . . . and opened his eyes. They were now a clear light blue. Henwyneb stood straighter. He gazed around the room, smiling. “I never knew how wondrous sight is,” he said softly, “until I lost it. Now that I have it again, I see myself surrounded by miracles.” His gaze finally fell on Nia. “The greatest of which is you, good lady.” He bowed to her. “With all my heart, I thank you.”

  Nia bowed back. “You’re very welcome, good Henwyneb.”

  “We don’t expect you to guide us in the dark,” Corwin said. “So if it’s okay for us to stay the night here, we can be on our way at dawn.”

  “You’re as welcome here as if you were family,” Henwyneb replied. “Although, given the nature of many people’s families, perhaps more so.”

  So Henwyneb set out straw mats on the floor for Corwin and Nia to sleep on and gave them worn, threadbare blankets to sleep under.

  There came a raucous cawing and banging at the door.

  “Oh very well, you demanding creature.” Henwyneb went to the door and opened it.

  Nag flew in, then flew around the room cawing and cawing. He finally landed at Corwin’s feet and glared up at him. “Well, what do you want me to do?” Corwin asked.

  Nag stretched one wing, as if pointing it toward the door. “AWK!”

  Corwin sighed and made a show of looking out the door. It was utterly black outside, the light from the fire inside the hovel only revealing a little of Henwyneb’s herb garden. Corwin stuck his head back in and shut the door. “There’s nothing to see out there, Nag. And we can’t do any good blundering about in the dark. You might as well calm yourself and stay in for the night.”

  Nag ruffled his feathers and jumped up to the mantle above the hearth. There was a wooden carving of the head of a Roman goddess wearing a helmet sitting on the mantle. The raven hopped onto it and perched there, glaring at everyone.

  “A good choice,” Henwyneb said. “That’s Minerva, goddess of wisdom. Perhaps she can deliver some to your tiny brain. In the meantime, good night. Good night to you all.”

  Nia settled on her mat in the center of the room. Henwyneb took to his pallet. Corwin stretched out on his back beside the hearth, letting the heat from the lowering fire warm and soothe him. To his surprise, as he was drifting off, Corwin felt something moving in the crook of his arm. Nag had hopped next to him and nestled there, tucking his beak under his wing. Corwin idly scratched the bird on the back between the wings, and then he drifted off to sleep.

  Corwin’s slumber wasn’t peaceful, however. He dreamed that Nag was pecking at his arm and chest, trying to rouse him, cawing loudly in his face. But Corwin couldn’t move, other than to open his eyes and turn his head. A black cloud was drifting in through the cracks around the door to the hovel. The cloud drifted near the ceiling, seeking something.

  Suddenly the black cloud plunged down, pouring over Corwin, enveloping him in cold darkness. Memories of the evening’s conversation with Henwyneb replayed themselves. Corwin remembered when Gobaith had delved into his memories, and Corwin called out to the Farworlder, “Gobaith? Gobaith, are you there?” But there was no response.

  The black cloud lifted from Corwin and rose up to the ceiling. Again it plunged down, this time onto Nia. She struggled and moaned a little as it enveloped her. Corwin tried to struggle, too, but he was still completely unable to move.

  After a few moments, the cloud lifted from her and this time went directly to Henwyneb. The cloud flowed over the old man who cried out once from the enveloping darkness. Then the cloud lifted for the final time and flowed back out under the hovel door. Corwin fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nia felt someone shake her shoulder.

  “Nia! Nia! Are you okay?”

  Her eyelids felt rough and sandy as she opened them. Corwin was bending over her, his eyes wide with terror.

  “Corwin? What’s wrong?”
Nia slowly sat up. It was like trying to swim through mud.

  “I had a bad dream,” Corwin said. “Only I’m beginning to think it wasn’t a dream. Did you dream?”

  Nia squinted as she tried to remember. “Yes, I did,” she said finally. “I was swimming in very dark water. Someone called out to me. I thought it was the ancestors in the sword, but it was just someone disguised as the ancestors. They were probing my mind, trying to find something. The real Farworlder ancestors were protecting me, though. After a while, I was out of the dark water. That’s all, I think.”

  “Someone tried to replay my memories in my dream,” Corwin said. “Help me wake up Henwyneb.”

  Nia went with him to Henwyneb’s bedside. The old man was still asleep, but frowning as if struggling with inner demons.

  “Henwyneb!” Corwin shook his shoulder, too.

  “Uhhh!” The old man clumsily tried to push Corwin away.

  Nia placed her hands on either side of his head and tried to send cleansing energy into his mind. “Henwyneb, please wake up.”

  With a jolt and a jerk, Henwyneb opened his eyes. “Oh my, oh my,” he breathed.

  “Did you have nightmares too?” Nia asked.

  “It was much worse than a nightmare,” Henwyneb said, his face still full of fear. “A dark spirit appeared to me and demanded to know where the center of power was in the woods. When I wouldn’t tell him, he flowed into my mind and I couldn’t hide a single thought from him. This spirit dredged from me every memory of where the ancient shrine is hidden.”

  Nia and Corwin looked at each other. “Ma’el!” they said in unison.

  “Then we’ve lost,” Corwin said. “He must be there by now.”

  “It might take him a while to learn how to use the shrine,” Nia pointed out. “Henwyneb, please, can you lead us there quickly?”

  “As quick as this old body can manage, my lady,” Henwyneb said, swinging his feet over the cot and standing. “Which is much quicker than it once was, thanks to your healing powers.”

  Nia picked up Eikis Calli Werr from the mat. It hummed in her hands, as if sensing the battle yet to come. Or maybe it was resonating with whatever power was being conjured in the shrine.