The Lightstone

by David Zindell

  Four points there are to the world, and three of these were land while the fourth was ocean. I stood with my back to this gray water as I gazed at the smoking mountain to the north. When I looked in that direction, my heart beat more quickly. And so I began walking toward it.

  The others followed close behind me across the beach. Soon its brownish sands gave out onto the wall of forest that had seemed so forbidding from the water. Up close, the tall trees and dense under-growth proved nearly impenetrable. Search though we did for a few hundred yards up and down the beach, we could find no path cuttine through them.

  'Are you sure we should go this way?' Maram said, pointing into the forest. 'I don't like the look of it.'

  'Come,' I said, taking a step forward. 'It won't be so bad '

  'That's what you said of the Vardaloon,' he moaned. Upon remembering our passage of that dark wood, he shuddered as he pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head. 'If I see a single leech, I'm turning back, all right?'

  'All right,' I agreed. 'You can camp here on the beach and wait for us to return with the Lightstone.'

  The thought of us gaining what he so deeply desired while he sat here on the sand sobered him. He suddenly found his courage, and muttered to me, 'All right, but you go first. If there are leeches here, maybe they'll drop first on you.'

  But the forest turned out to hold none of these loathsome worms. Neither were we troubled by ticks, even though the undergrowth near the beach was very thick and brushed continually against us. As for mosquitoes, in all that thick band of woods, we saw only one. This, as it happened, landed right on Maram's fat nose. In his panic to swat it, he forgot the delicacy of this fleshy protuberance. His huge hand nearly flattened it out, causing him to shout in pain. Although the cunning little mosquito escaped this blow, he did manage to bloody himself. It was the funniest thing I had seen since Flick had spun about on Alphanderry's nose.

  'Stop laughing at me!' Maram called out as he pressed his hand to his bleeding nose.

  'Where's your compassion? Can't you see I'm wounded?'

  This 'wound' Master Juwain tended with a few swipes of a doth and a bit of a leaf tucked up into Maram's nostril. And then Kane came over and snapped at Maram,

  'Save your valor for our real enemies. We don't know what we're going to find on this island.'

  His rebuke reminded me that we knew almost nothing of the Island of the Swans.

  Dragons we surely need not fear, but what awaited us deeper in the forest no one could say.

  As we started off again, I used my shield to brush the ferns away from my face I gripped my lance in my sword hand. But I saw nothing more threatening than a red fox darting out of our way and a few bumble bees. In truth, I immediately liked the feel of this ancient woodland. Its giant trees, towering far above the carpets of bracken along the forest floor were hung with witch's hair and icicle moss as if arrayed in enchanted garments. Every living thing about us seemed soft and glowing with greenness; even the air smelled sweet and good.

  I felt strangely at home here although there were many types of trees and plants that were strange to me Master Juwain put names to a few of them: he pointed out the great cedars with their long strips of red bark and the yew trees and big-leaf maples.

  Others he had never seen either. But it turned out that Kane had. He showed us the sword ferns and the horsehair lichens, the lovely pink rhododendrons and the blue hemlocks shagged with old man's beard. Each name he spoke as if reciting that of an old friend. And each name Master luwain dutifully recorded. I thought that I was past of his own private quest to remember the name of each and every thing in the world.

  We made slow progress, for there were many new plants to identity, and the ground before us was thick with ferns and rose steeply. There were quite a few downed trees, too, which made the footing treacherous. Kane called some of these moss-covered trunks nurse logs. He said that in rotting apart into bits of crumbling wood, they served as nursery beds for other trees that took seed there. They were also homes to the red-backed voles and other animals we saw scurrying about the forest floor.

  'I've never seen a wood so lush,' Maram said as he puffed along behind me. 'If the Lightstone is here, it could be anywhere. How are we to find it? I can't even find my own feet beneath me.'

  Liljana came up to him then and reassured him that Sartan Odinan, if he had truly come here, wouldn't have just dropped the Lightstone down into a clump of moss.

  'Don't you give up hope just yet, young prince. Perhaps we'll find a cave in one of the mountains we saw.'

  These three peaks were now obscured by the wall of vegetation before us. But if we kept a straight line through the giant trees, after perhaps another five miles, we should come upon the slopes of the smoking mountain.

  And so we fought our way up across the densely wooded ground that led toward it.

  It took us perhaps an hour to cover the first half mile. As there were few enough hours left in the day, and we had only three days until the Snowy Owl sailed again, it seemed that we would be able to explore only the tiniest corner of the island.

  And then, after another half mile, the headland we were dtmbing came to a crest. The forest suddenly changed and thinned, and gave way to many more yews, maples and dogwoods. Through the gaps between them, we looked down into the most beautiful valley I had even seen.

  'Oh, my lord!' Maram called out. 'There are people here!'

  We saw signs of them everywhere. Between the crest on which we stood and the mountains some five miles away were many patches of green that could only be fields. Small stands of trees - they looked like cherry and plum - divided them from each other in darker green lines. Many pastures covered the long slope leading down to the valley's center. There a sparkling blue lake pooled at the base of the three mountains, which curved around its northern shore like a crescent moon. There, too, near the lake's southern shore, surrounded by what seemed to be many streets and colorfully painted houses, stood a great, square building whose white stone caught the sunlight streaming out of a break in the clouds. Liljana said that it reminded her of the ruins of the Temple of Life in Tria.

  'We must go there then,' I said. Now my heart was beating very quickly.

  'Whoever lives here,' Kane said, squinting as he looked about the valley, 'may not want us here at all. We should be careful, Val.'

  I remembered how the Lokilani had stolen upon us and nearly killed us with arrows before rare chance had saved us.

  'Careful we'll be, then,' I said. 'But when one walks into the lion's lair, there's only so much care that can be taken.'

  And with that, I led off, walking warily through the woods. Atara kept pace with me just to my left; she held an arrow nocked in her bowstring as she looked off through the trees. Master Juwain came next, followed by Liljana and Alphanderry. Behind then, Maram trod carefully down the long slope, all the while fingering his firestone as he started at every squirrel or bird moving about in the branches above him. Kane, as usual, brought up the rear.

  After about a half mile, the woods thinned even more and gave out onto a wide pasture on which only a few isolated trees grew. Here the grass was long and lush, and as green as grass could be. Many day's-eyes, with their sunlike yellow centers and long white petals, made a show of themselves, and thousands of dandelions brightened the grass as well. Bees buzzed from flower to flower in their slow but determined way, gathering up nectar peacefully. From somewhere ahead of us, across the lines of rolling and gradually descending ground, came the distant baahing of some sheep. If this walla lion's lair into which we were walking, I thought as I gripped my lance and shield, then surely we were the lions.

  Another quarter mile brought us out onto a bowl-like pasture smelling of some sweet blue flowers and sheep droppings. We saw the flock ahead of us, fifty or sixty fat sheep spread out over the soft green grass, their white fleeces gleaming in the sun.

  We saw their shepherd, too. And he saw us. The look on his face as we suddenly appeared
over a low rise above him was one of utter astonishment. But strangely, his bright, black eyes showed no sign of fear.

  ' Di nisa palinaii,' he said to us, holding out his hand as if in greeting. ' Di nisa, nisa

  - lililia waii? '

  The words he spoke made no sense to me. Nor did any of the others seem to understand him, not even Alphanderry, who held the seeds of all languages upon his fertile tongue.

  'My name is Valashu Elahad,' I said, pressing my hand to my chest 'What are you called, and who are your people?'

  'Kilima nisti,'the man said, shaking his head. ' Kilima nastamii.'

  The shepherd, who was about my age, wore a long kirtle that seemed woven of the same white wool that covered his sheep. He was tall, almost my height, with ivory skin and a long, high nose that gave great dignity to his noble face - and a hint of fierceness, too. But there seemed nothing fierce about him. His manner was gentle, curious, welcoming. He wore no weapon on his braided and brightly colored cloth belt and his hand held nothing more threatening than his shepherd's crook. This surprised me almost as much as did his appearance. For with his thick black hair and eyes like black jade, he might have been my brother.

  'Oh, my lord!' Maram said as he came up beside me. 'He looks Valari!'

  My friends, gathering around the shepherd, stared at him and remarked the resemblance as well. Master Juwain said, 'There's a mystery here: a lost island upon which stands a Valari warrior who seems no warrior at all. And who doesn't speak the language that all men do.'

  If he was a mystery to us, we were an even greater one to him. He approached me as one might a wild animal; he slowly extended his hand and traced his finger along the swan and seven silver stars of my surcoat. He touched the steel links of my armor, too. Finally, he tapped his fingernail against my helmet as he slowly shook his head.

  ' Di nisa, verlo,' he murmured. ' Kananjii wa? '

  It seemed pointless, and a little rude, to continue talking with him from behind my helmet's curving steel plates. And so I took it off. The shepherd stood staring at me as if looking into a mirror for the first time.

  ' Di nisa, nisa,' he said again, this time more doubtfully. ' Wansai paru di nisalu? '

  He turned to go among Maram and the others. He smiled at Liljana respectfully, then narrowed his eyebrows as he seemed to look for his reflection in the gleaming surface of Master Juwain's bald head. He put his finger to Alphanderry's dark curls then paused a moment as he looked at Kane. But he spent the longest time examining Atara. Everything about her seemed a marvel to him. He examined her leather armor and ran his finger along her bowstring; he touched her long blonde hair with all the reverence that Captain Kharald might have reserved for handling gold.

  ' Di nisa athanu,' he whispered. ' Athanasii, verlo.'

  'What language is this?' Maram asked, shaking his head. 'I can't understand anything of what he says.'

  'I can almost understand,' Alphanderry said. 'Almost.'

  'It sounds something like ancient Ardik,' Master Juwain told us. 'But, I'm afraid, no more than a pear is like an apple.'

  Kane had now lost patience, perhaps with his own ignorance most of all. He nodded at Liljana and said, 'You spoke with the Sea People, eh? Can't you speak to this man?'

  All this time Liljana had been clutching her little carved whale in her hand. Now she brought this figurine to her head. The blue gelstei, I suddenly recalled, were not only the stones of mindspeaking but also quickened the powers of truthsaying and apprehending languages and dreams.

  ' Nomja?' the shepherd said, looking at the figurine. ' Nomja, nisami?'

  A quick smile suddenly split Liljana's round face as if she were very pleased with herself. And then she opened her mouth and surprised us all by saying, ' Janomi... io di gelstei. Di blestei, di gelstei... falu.'

  After that, she began speaking the shepherd's language more rapidly. She paused only to allow him to return the discourse and ask her questions. And then, with a smile that lit up her whole being, she found her tongue again and managed to keep up a continual stream of conversation. The strange words poured out of her like a waterfall. The sheep baahed at each other and the sun dipped lower in the sky as she stood there talking with the shepherd.

  After a while, she took the gelstei away from her head and told us, 'He says his name is Rhysu Araiu. And his people are called the Maii.'

  'And this island?' Kane asked her. 'Does it have a name as well?'

  'Of course it does,' Liljana said, smiling at him. 'The Maiians call it Landaii Asawanu.'

  'And what does that mean, then?' Kane asked.

  'It means,' she said, 'the Island of the Swans.'

  Rhysu returned to his flock then, and we followed him across the pasture, which he had told Liljana he wanted us to do. Soon we came to rather large house, built of mostly of stone and wood that had been painted a bright yellow. Rhysu called out excitedly as we approached it. The door suddenly opened, and a tall woman with hair as straight and black as Rhysu's stepped out and greeted us. She had the high nose and exquisitely sculpted face bones of many Valari. Rhysu presented her as Piliri, and said she was his wife. Three more of his household soon joined us on the lawn: a young boy named Nilu and his older sister, Bria. Oldest of all, however, perhaps even older than Kane, was Piliri's grandmother, Yakira Araiu. Despite her years, despite an ailing hip and knee, which she painfully favored, she too was a tall woman; she stood proudly on the doorstep above her family as Rhysu presented us.

  That Rhysu so obviously deferred to her surprised me a little. And it surprised me even more to learn that she, not he, was the head of the Araiu family.

  'Strange, isn't it,' Maram muttered, 'that he should take the name of his wife's grandmother? But then everything about this island is a little strange.'

  Liljana bowed to Yakira, and stood talking with her for quite a while. And then she told us that the Maiians passed their family names from mother to daughter - and from mother to son.

  'As it was in the ancient days,' she said.

  She went on to say that here men did not rule their wives and daughters. No one, in truth, ruled anyone-else: no king was there on the Island of the Swans, nor duke nor master nor lord. Their most prominent personage seemed to be a woman named Lady Nimaiu, who was also called the Lady of the Lake. Yakiru suggested that Piliri should present us to her.

  'She says that she would take us down to the lake herself,' Liljana explained, 'but she can't walk so far anymore.'

  It seemed that the Mali had no horses to ride nor even any oxen that might pull a cart. We might have managed to carry Yakiru the few miles down to the city by the lake, but this her dignity would not permit.

  Here Yakiru spoke to Piliri for a few moments. Then Liljana trans-lated her words:

  'She said that Miri must tell her everything that happens there.'

  'Ah, I hope nothing happens,' Maram said. 'At least nothing more eventful than us finding that which we came to find.'

  And with that, Piliri took her leave of her husband and family, and we set forth, with Piliri leading the way. Soon we came to a little road that led down the valley's center.

  It was paved with smooth stones cut so precisely that they showed only the narrowest of seams. Flowers of various kinds lined the sides of the road, which wound through the meadows and fields. With the soft sun providing just enough heat to warm us nicely and the many birds singing in the orchards to either side of us, it was one of the most pleasant walks I had ever made.

  We stopped more than once to greet other shepherds and farmers curious as to the strange sight that we must have presented. After they had eyed my gleaming armor and studied my friends with amazement more than one of them joined us. By the time we reached the edge of the city, we made a party perhaps thirty strong. And there, from the neat little houses painted yellow, red and blue, many more of the Maii stepped out to behold us. All of them had the look of my countrymen back in Mesh.

  Cries of, ' Nisa, Nisa!' sang out as Maiians empti
ed out of the shops and houses and lined the streets before us. As we passed, they closed in behind us and formed up into a procession of hundreds of excited men, women and children.

  Piliri walking now with great dignity, led the way straight toward the temple. From this massive structure, which appeared made of marble, bells began ringing and sent their silver peals out over the city. And now it seemed the whole of the city had been alerted to our coming, for thousands of people crowded the streets. In bright streams of kirtles and flowing garments dyed every color, they converged upon the temple from the south, west and east. There, in a tree-lined square beneath the temple's great, gleaming pillars, they gathered to greet us and witness what to them must have been an extraordinary event.

  A tall woman, perhaps forty years of age, accompanied by six younger women, emerged from between the temple's two centermost pillars and slowly made her way down the steps toward us. She was as beautiful of face and form as my mother, and she wore a long white kirtle trimmed with green along the sleeves and hem. A filigree of tiny black pearls was sown into the kirtle's front while a fillet of much larger white ones had been set around her forehead and over her long, black hair. She stopped immediately in front of us. Then Piliri stepped forward, knelt and kissed the woman's hand. Upon straightening again, she said, ' Mi Lais Nimaiu-talanasii nisalu.'

  She turned toward me and my companions and continued, ' Talanasii Sar Valashu Elahad. Eth Maramei Marshayk eth Liljana Ashvaran eth. . .'

  And so it went until she had presented us all. Then she spoke to Liljana, who stepped closer with her blue gelstei to translate for her.

  ' Talanasii Lais Nimaiu,' Piliri said, presenting the tall woman to us. She spoke a few more words before nodding at Liljana.

  Liljana pressed her little figurine to her head as she smiled at the tall woman. To us, she said, 'This is Lady Nimaiu. She is also called the Lady of the Lake.'

  Lady Nimaiu, as Rhysu had, spent quite a few moments examining us. Atara's hair seemed to hold wonders for her as did Master Juwain's complete absence of it. But she reserved her greatest curiosity for me and my accoutrements. Her dark eyes took in the lineaments of my face, and then she rapped her fingernail against the steel of my helmet, which I held in the crook of my arm. With my leave, she touched this same elegant finger to the silver swan and stars embroidered on my surcoat. She gasped as if these shapes might be familiar to her. Her breathing quickened as she examined the hilt of my broken sword. She spent another few moments running her hand over the steel links of my mail and the swan and stars embossed on my father's shield. Finally, she wrapped her fingers lightly around my throwing lance before stepping back and regarding me warily.