"Zor'a," Sergei said. "But it is no longer necessary to return it to me."
A noise like a sighing breeze through leafy branches wafted through the air. Jackie felt goosebumps down her arms and on the back of her neck.
The High Lord Sa'a HeYen had been flying across a dream landscape of battle and destruction, earnestly trying to lift her head to see the Fortress, impossibly far above. She had struggled for what seemed an eternity; then, suddenly, as a blinding flash from an explosion lit the land below, she looked upward to see the menacing structure for the first time . . .
The physician by the bedside of Sergei Torrijos placed his wings in a posture of reverence to esLi and drew the sheet over the face of the corpse.
"You—"
"I have transcended the Outer Peace, se Jackie. You shall bear the gyaryu back to the High Nest on Zor'a, but it will not leave you again."
"And if I refuse?"
"It is always within your power to refuse," Th'an'ya replied quietly, her wings assuming a posture of resignation. "There was always the possibility that you might choose a course other than to accept the burden of the office. You are not one of the People, and idju'e cannot be used as a stick to coerce your cooperation.
"Before you refuse to take up the gyaryu, bear this in mind: Many ships belonging to the servants of esGa'u are within the Empire at this moment. Without the gyaryu, all of it is at risk of Domination. The esGa'uYal will continue their attacks and show no mercy. With the gyaryu, at least some of that space will be protected, since the servants will not dare approach. Even Shrnu'u HeGa'u could not defeat Qu'u when he took up the sword."
"I still have to get off this world."
No one answered her, as she looked from face to face. Sergei and Admiral Marais stood side by side, their faces full of understanding but betraying no emotion. Kale'e's wing-position was one of reverence to esLi. Th'an'ya, half in shadow, stood in a posture Jackie hadn't seen before: a'Li'e're—Choosing the Flight.
"Decision time," Jackie said, to no one in particular. Sergei nodded.
She looked down at the gyaryu hanging in its scabbard at her waist and then reached in under her coat and drew out the hilt of Ch'k'te's broken chya. To her surprise, it still felt slightly warm to her touch.
"You told me that a chya is ritually destroyed when its owner dies. What happens if it breaks?"
"The hsi that it held, remains within," Kale'e answered. "The warrior does not truly reach esLi's Golden Circle until it is freed."
"That means Ch'k'te is still in here. It's a damn lucky thing I picked this up," she said, glancing at Th'an'ya.
"Indeed," Th'an'ya replied.
"Is there enough of Ch'k'te's hsi to call forth a hsi-image?"
"Here on the gyaryu," Th'an'ya answered, "I would expect so." Her wing-position changed again and Jackie could read her emotions clearly. It had probably taken considerable will for her to keep from suggesting to Jackie that she do so.
"How . . . do I do it?"
"Concentrate."
She concentrated, disregarding her tenuous position in the real world, her fears about the gyaryu and her future and the plots that had made her so crucial to the completion of the quest. She remembered Ch'k'te—
The sighing breeze seemed to lightly jostle a windchime, off in the dark distance somewhere.
"I am here," she heard, and turned to face Ch'k'te—his eyes full of life, his wings in a posture of reverence. "I cannot remain long, se Jackie."
She embraced him, somewhat to the surprise of the other humans present.
"I don't know what to do," she said at last.
"We are all bound by duty," Ch'k'te answered. "From the time I took up my chya"—he gestured to the stump in her hand—"I followed the duty that my Nest and my People placed upon me. As an officer in the Imperial Navy, I also had a duty. When you chose to take up the role of Qu'u, I knew that I had another duty."
He looked across at Th'an'ya, whose wing-position had not changed. "At last, on Crossover, when the esGa'uYe released its hold upon me, I performed my final service to you, and duty to myself.
"What you are offered is an honor, but it is a duty, also. Remember that the High Chamberlain told you that you could do what neither he nor the High Lord nor, perhaps, what any one person could do. Now you are on the verge of having done so.
"Qu'u was not the eldest, nor the greatest, warrior in his Nest. But he was the one that the Lord esLi chose.
"As are you chosen, to stand within the Circle while the esGa'uYal carry out their destiny."
"Some 'destiny.'"
She handed the broken chya to Ch'k'te and placed her hand on the hilt of the gyaryu. "In the legend," she said, "Qu'u reaches the Fortress of Despite alone. He appeals to the Lord to take them from the Valley of Lost Souls, where esGa'u traps them after Qu'u begins to ascend the Perilous Stair.
"Then, if I am Qu'u," she said, "I'd like to appeal in kind to esLi to do the same for you. I'm truly sorry that I didn't know to do this before. And Th'an'ya," she said, turning to her, "I have held your hsi here"—Jackie tapped her temple—"for long enough already. I will miss your company but I feel honor-bound to release you."
"se Jackie." Th'an'ya stepped forward and extended a taloned hand. Jackie took hold of it. "When I chose this flight, I did not know if it would succeed, nor indeed what would happen to my hsi. I did not expect that I would ever go to esLi.
"li Ch'k'te spoke of duty. I, too, have taken upon myself the duty of readying you for this decision. I would not want you to become Gyaryu'har at such a crucial moment without whatever meager guidance I might continue to provide."
"I think," Jackie replied, half smiling as she looked over her shoulder at Sergei, Marais and Kale'e, "that I am well provided-for. Go now. esLiHeYar."
Th'an'ya and Ch'k'te both arranged their wings in a posture of deference to esLi and then they both changed to the Posture of Respectful Affection.
Then they took flight and receded into the dark distance, a flash of golden light from somewhere dappling their wings until they vanished from sight.
Jackie turned again to face the three others.
"I'm ready," she said.
Kale'e bowed to her and gestured that she step past him into the light. As she did so, she found herself in a lush and verdant garden. With Kale'e by her side, she walked along a carefully manicured path. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that several . . . then several more eights . . . then a few sixty-fours of zor . . . were following her as she approached the center of the garden. At last she came into a large open area with a perch. On it stood a zor with ceremonial garb, his wings held in the posture called the Cloak of Worship.
"'And the Lord esLi spoke to Lord A'alu e'Yen, and commanded her, "Recite this in My Name.
"'"Tell all the generations of My People, alive and yet to come, that I have commanded this: That among the People there shall be one High Nest and one High Lord.
"'"Say to them: 'The Lord esLi has looked upon the works of His People, and has chosen in His grace to send them a sign whereby His will should be done—that a hero should be found. This hero should be of great and noble heart; and though young and not well tried, he shall go forth to the Plain of Despite, and recover that which was lost, and which, with my assistance, he shall have regained.'
"'"Tell them that the hero has returned to them, and that he bears a sword I have reforged for him.
"'"Tell them that by this sword shall My People become one people, and the Nest of the hero shall become the High Nest of My People. This shall be the Sword of the Nest—the sword of the hero that pierced the Icewall, who will stand within the Circle when the armies of the Deceiver come to the gates."'
"As it was said unto me, se Jackie, so do I say it unto you. To you is given the gyaryu, the Talon of State, recovered from the Plain of Despite many five-twelves of turns ago. You are naZora'e just as your two predecessors were, but you are heir to my legacy.
"I am Qu'u.
"I name you Qu'uYar: the Recoverer, the Piercer of the Ice-wall. By your own will you are Gyaryu'har, the One Who Stands Within the Circle. Your predecessors will always be here to assist you. May you walk in Light, se Jackie Laperriere. esLiHeYar." Qu'u executed a stance that seemed to bow so low, that for a moment Jackie thought he'd fall off the perch.
Instead, he—and indeed the whole scene—seemed to become watery and dim, fading from view, until at last she found herself again in the sitting-room, the gyaryu in her hands.
Stone was still in the place he had been when she had last seen him. She reached inside her coat pocket and found the chya, but it was just a cold, inert piece of metal.
"Gone to esLi," he said, raising one eyebrow.
"I suppose you witnessed all of that."
"No, actually not." He twirled the stem of a goblet between thumb and forefinger. "I have a reasonable idea of what happened . . . but no, I didn't pry.
"So now you have the gyaryu. I presume you have 'the Dark Understanding,' as well—whatever that might be."
"Don't you know?"
"I don't really care," Stone said, smiling faintly, in a way that chilled Jackie. "Now that you have the sword, it remains only to get you to put it back to use."
"How do you plan to do that?"
"The simplest possible expedient." He gestured toward the hallway. As she watched, the dark was interrupted by several parallel bands of brightly colored light; they seemed to stretch out the door and into the night, beyond her range of vision.
"What the hell is that?"
"You are wasting time, madam," Stone answered. "What it is, would be far too difficult to explain. Suffice it to say that it will bring you back to Zor'a. I'll shortly be using similar means myself."
"I don't understand—"
"My dear commodore." Stone smiled again, showing the perfect teeth. "It is not required for you to understand. Soon . . . very soon, if I'm not terribly mistaken . . . several Drones who report directly to the Great Queen, including First Drone H'mr, will be arriving here. They will deal with you first and then with me. I don't intend to be present, and I strongly advise you to depart as well. As one who has experienced Domination in person, I should think you'd need very little convincing."
"Zor'a is hundreds of parsecs from here."
"You'll be there before you can work up a sweat. Come on, Commodore. It's not as if you have a choice."
She backed away from him, sword at the ready, until she could see brightness all around her. Through the luminescence, she could see another path beginning to form, from the sitting-room, in the opposite direction.
"Don't step off the path," he said; and then he began to walk his own route. After scarcely a moment, he receded into the distance.
She felt the familiar pressure of approaching vuhl Sensitives. Rather than wait to see who would show up—and realizing that she didn't really have a choice—she turned and began to walk along the rainbow path.
Soon there was nothing but blackness. She kept the gyaryu drawn, and anGa'e'ren kept its distance.
Interlude
Excerpted from the final transmission by the flagship Nest HeYen, under the personal sigil of Ke'erl HeYen, High Lord of the People; received by IS Pappenheim at Thon's Well, 14 January 2397:
. . . This is not a false seeming. The hero Qu'u travels alone now, with no direction from the sage, unaccompanied by Hyos, the spirit-guide trapped in the webs of Ur'ta leHssa. The hero climbs toward the Fortress of Despite.
The People and the naZora'i together face an enemy that esGa'u would have wished us to face alone. Eights of turns ago, the Deceiver sought to keep the People and the other races apart, but the will of esLi was stronger, and brought us esHu'ur, who was also esTli'ir, though many wings and many more wingless ones did not see the weave of the Golden Circle, nor perceive its wisdom . . .
Beyond the edge of our perceptions the esHara'y lurk, no longer waiting, but acting upon the direction of their Master. They are led by a Queen, who has an advisor—an e'gyu'u the equal of our Gyaryu'har—who has granted them dominion over all they sought to conquer, as long as the advisor lives. Many races have fallen under the talons of these esHara'y, and we who oppose them are their next flight. We cannot stop them from their conquest. Yet if gyaryu and hero return to stand within the Circle, something may be preserved for the bright generation to follow. This a'Li'e're may well be one that the naZora'i will not desire to make.
The one who comes to exact blood-price for the deeds of the esHara'y of this generation will be sharp-taloned and terrible, and in his wake the ones who follow will turn against each other when the shNa'es'ri is passed.
I say to the People: The Eight Winds are calm now in my soul. To transcend the Outer Peace is to join esLi within the Circle; it must be thus, so that the hero who stands before the gate of the Deceiver may recover what was lost. The hero shall defend that Circle while the esHara'y rake their talons in the ashes of what we have built.
esLiHeYar . . .
It had taken a long time for Second Drone H'tt to accustom himself to the wide-open spaces that the meat-creatures favored. Standing on an observation balcony overlooking one of the docking areas of Adrianople Starbase, he forced himself to look up and down and side to side. It gave him more than a slight amount of vertigo; he forced the feeling down and away, pushing it into his i'kn-mind where it would bother his dreams but not his ability to function.
He had spent many twelves of vx*tori in human form—which he held now as well. Even though the meat-creatures at Adrianople had seen his other form, he found it just as easy to command their obedience by wearing the appearance that disturbed them less—but he always had problems with the open spaces.
Agoraphobia. It occurred to him that some clever primitive might identify the trait with his race, letting a disguise be penetrated. But it seemed that the humans, at least, often suffered from this (and other) perverse fears, so there would probably be lots of false positives if that were the litmus test they chose.
He turned from the dizzying vista to see the human commander of the base approaching. Durant had not changed much in the few weeks he had been here; he was careful and guarded, particularly around H'tt, but always seemed to be barely leashing his anger.
H'tt shrugged his human shoulders. It was something he would no doubt have to address. Eventually, he added, to himself.
"Commodore," H'tt said.
"You asked to see me," Durant said. He walked to the edge of the balcony and looked down at the concourse, where the business of the starbase proceeded, a few twelves of meters below.
Extraordinary, H'tt thought. No fear.
"We will be receiving an important visitor soon," H'tt said. "First Drone H'mr is on his way to Adrianople."
"Your superior."
"In a manner of speaking. He will be inspecting this facility and evaluating our progress. I trust . . . he will find everything satisfactory."
The sentence seemed to end with an unspoken ". . . or else." Durant turned to face the vuhl master of the base. "When is the First Drone expected?"
"Within the next several Standard days. He is conducting a tour of occupied systems. He has matters to deal with elsewhere and then he will come here."
"I see."
"I expect the cooperation of your staff. It could be most unpleasant if anything improper happened during his visit."
"I understand."
"But you do not approve."
"I am not here to approve, sir," Durant said, looking away again. "My base is in your . . . hands because it was the best way to save lives. I remain a subject of the Solar Emperor."
"Meaning?"
"I won't dissemble with you. I expect that although you may need me now, there will come a time when I and all of these people"—he gestured toward the concourse—"will be superfluous. Don't expect me to be happy with that."
"Commodore, I believe you operate under a misconception."
"Is that so."
"Yes,
it is so; and I believe that if I correct that error, you might find this easier to accept.
"If we intended to kill all of you, be assured we would do so—indeed, we would have done so already. I hope you realize, there might be a different outcome."
"If we cooperate."
"Just so. If you cooperate. Your race . . ." H'tt resisted using the term "meat-creature," but it crossed his mind just the same. "Both your race and the zor could survive and benefit from a relationship with ours."
"As slaves."
"As clients," H'tt said. "We have many technologies that could benefit your peoples; you, in turn, have capabilities that could help First Hive."
"I'm so glad to hear that our welfare is your concern. I suppose that's why you let Hsien's squadron go."
H'tt's i'kn-mind raged at Durant. It was all he could do to restrain it. "Your sarcasm is touching."
"Your perception of human emotions improves by the day, I see."
"Are you trying to enrage me, Commodore?"
"Why would I do that?" Durant turned to face him again. "You could kill me with a thought. Your . . . technology has nearly shattered the mind of my exec. One would think it mighty dangerous to goad you, sir."
"Quite correct. I'll remind you to keep that in mind." H'tt gestured toward the concourse. "And make sure they know it as well."
Durant took this last comment as a dismissal; he inclined his head and turned away. I'll be damned if I'll give the bastard a salute, he thought, and turned away, not caring whether the Second Drone heard it or not.
H'tt had heard the comment, but ignored it as he watched Durant walk away. For just a moment there was something else, something just below the surface of his mind that the exchange had concealed . . . but he couldn't quite pick it up.
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