by Troy Denning
Yago frowned. “Did Sune say it—”
“The water must be sparkling,” Atreus said. “She even reminded me.”
Rishi picked up the vial and held it to his eye.
“Then there is clearly more to the task than we thought.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me? This whole trip …” A terrible thought occurred to Atreus, and he turned to Yago. “What do I look like?”
“Same as usual. Like the loser of a bad fight,” Yago said. He used his bare hands to lift the tea pot off the fire, then placed it in on the table to cool. “Why?”
Atreus turned to Rishi and asked, “What do you think? Am I handsome?”
The Mar’s eyes shifted away.
“Certainly, Seema must think so.…”
Atreus’s heart sank at the word “certainly.”
“It’s a simple question, Rishi. I look no better than before?”
The Mar dropped his gaze and said, “No.”
“By Sune’s red hair!” Atreus cursed.
He plucked the vial from Rishi’s hand and hurled it against the wall, then heard a small gasp. He turned to see Seema standing on the stairs behind him, her hands to her face, her gaze fixed on the shattered remains of the vial.
Atreus’s fury was instantly replaced by shame and remorse. “Seema! This isn’t what you think.” Realizing how insincere and deceitful that particular lie sounded, he began again, “Well, I can’t imagine what you must think.”
Seema pointed at the corked neck of the broken flask and said, “I think that you broke one of my vials.”
Atreus nodded.
“What was in it?” she asked.
Atreus started to answer, but found his throat so dry he could not choke out the words.
“It was my doing,” said Yago, ever the loyal guard. “I took one of your vials—”
Atreus waved the ogre off, then said, “But I am the one who filled it … from the pool of sparkling waters.”
Seema frowned and said nothing.
“It’s what we’ve been looking for all along,” Atreus explained. “My goddess, Sune Firehair, promised to make me handsome if I brought her a vial of sparkling waters from the Fountain of Infinite Grace.”
Seema studied him for a long time, her eyes growing harder and more angry as each moment passed. Finally, she came down the stairs and began to pick up the pieces of her shattered vial.
“I do not know this Sune Firehair of yours, but I think you are a fool for worshiping her. To ask such a thing, she must be a heartless witch.”
“Fickle as a game of knucklebones,” agreed Yago.
“Fickle is not cruel,” said Seema. She continued to avoid Atreus’s gaze. “What Sune Firehair asks is impossible.”
“I was afraid of that,” Atreus sighed. “The last thing I want to do is harm Langdarma, but—”
Seema whirled on him and shouted, “Do not lie to me!” Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “If you feared for Langdarma, then you would have asked first.”
“You said it was forbidden for anyone but healers to see the shining waters,” Atreus explained. “We were—I was—afraid you wouldn’t do it.”
“I would do anything for you,” Seema answered bitterly. She tossed the broken glass shards into the hut’s fireplace. “Have I not proven that already?”
“You would not help him find Langdarma,” Rishi reminded her.
Seema cringed, and her expression grew more sad than angry. She looked up at Atreus. “It seems we have both agonized over the wishes of our goddesses. I will fetch you all the sparkling water you wish, but that will change nothing. What your goddess asks is impossible. The pool’s magic lasts only a few hours. By the time you return to her, the water in your vial will be as plain as the water from your own well.”
Atreus was too stunned to reply. “What do you mean?” he finally asked. “It stops sparkling?”
Seema nodded. “Did you not see that for yourself?” She ran her fingers along the rough skin of his cheek. “I am sorry, but your goddess sent you for nothing.”
“No!” Atreus collapsed onto a chair, shaking his head numbly. “All this way … why?”
Seema sat beside him and said, “I do not know. If she is not a cruel goddess, then perhaps she sent you looking for one thing knowing you would find something else.”
“What?” Atreus demanded. “The knowledge that I’ll always be a monster?”
“Perhaps it was me.”
“You?” Atreus took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was not the only person who had been deceived here. He took Seema’s hand and shook his head. “Perhaps Sune is fickle, but she is not cruel, not when it comes to love. She would never have sent me to find you, knowing I would only lose you a few weeks later.”
“Perhaps you do not have to lose me,” said Seema.
“Then you can convince the sannyasi to let us stay?” asked Rishi.
“That is not what I was thinking,” said Seema. “The sannyasi never changes his mind, because nothing he decrees can ever be wrong.”
“He is wrong this time!” snapped Rishi. “We are not going to bring any harm to Langdarma.”
“Your anger is harming it now,” said Seema. “And there is no sense in it The sannyasi’s will cannot be challenged.”
“Then he is an ungrateful fool,” Rishi said, his eyes burning with indignation. “I would not live in a place ruled by such a buffoon! But if he thinks we are leaving without our reward …”
“Reward?” asked Atreus. “What reward?”
“Our reward for saving the daughters of Langdarma,” Rishi said. “I did not risk my life battling Tarch for free.”
Atreus started to chastise the Mar for his greedy attitude, but Seema spoke first. “What is it you want, Rishi? You are welcome to take anything you like, but we have no gold or jewels in Langdarma, and yaks will not survive the Passing.”
Seema’s offer calmed Rishi as no argument of Atreus’s could have. The Mar glanced around the hut with an appraising eye, then simply shook his head and muttered, “How can a people so poor be so happy?”
“Perhaps we are happy because we are poor.” Seema smiled at the Mar’s bewilderment, then turned to Atreus and said, “But as I wanted to say, I would be happy with you wherever we were. Could that be the reason Sune sent you here?”
“Not likely,” scoffed Yago. “Seeing a beauty like you with a beast like him would only insult that prissy hag. He’d be lucky if she didn’t strike him dead on the spot.”
Atreus barely heard the ogre’s appraisal of the situation, so astonished was he by Seema’s offer.
“You would leave Langdarma for me?” he gasped.
“If that would make you happy.”
“It would … it does.” Atreus’s heart was suddenly as light as a bird. He took her hands and said, “Just knowing that you would come with me makes me happier than I have ever been in my life.”
“Would?” Seema echoed. “You do not want me to?”
“I want you to.…”
Atreus paused to gather his strength, imagining what Seema’s life would be like in Erlkazar. Court ladies whispering that she loved Atreus’s gold more than him, freshly slaughtered meat at every banquet, jousts, bloodbaths, and wars that sprang up on the whim of an angry king.
“I can’t ask you to leave Langdarma,” he continued. “My world would poison you, just as surely as Tarch poisoned Langdarma.”
Seema squeezed his hand. “You are not asking me to leave,” she countered. “I am asking you to let me come.”
Atreus did not even hesitate in saying, “I can’t The sannyasi is right about the Outside. It ruins everything it touches, and I would hate myself for allowing that to happen to you.”
“I am strong,” Seema insisted. “You cannot know—”
“He’s right” Yago came around the table and laid a big hand on Seema’s shoulder. “I’d like nothing more than for you to come with us—for Atreus’s sake—but it wouldn’t
be right. Sooner or later, you’d start missing this place more than you love him, and then you’d hate him for it.”
Seema furrowed her brow and said, “I could never hate—”
“In Erlkazar, you could,” said Atreus. “The Outside is full of hate. I love you more than my own life, but you are not the reason Sune sent me here.”
“Then Sune is a cruel goddess,” said Seema, “because I am going to miss you, and there was never any hope of finding what you came for.”
“I found it for a time, and I will never forget that”
Atreus grew thoughtful, recalling how he looked in the reflecting pool, then thought of the beast he had glimpsed watching them.
“Perhaps she is not so cruel after all.”
Seema scowled. “What are you saying?” she asked.
“That she told me to fill the vial from the Fountain of Infinite Grace, not the pool.…”
Seema looked more concerned than ever. “There are no fountains at the Palace of Serenity,” she said.
“Not outside,” said Atreus, “but that water must be coming from somewhere.”
16
As Atreus and his companions splashed up the flooded stairs into the alabaster palace, a scaled tentacle flicked out from a second story archway and twined itself around one of the gallery’s slender support columns. The expedition came to a stunned and breathless halt. The appendage was as thick as Yago’s forearm, coated in stringy gleet, and as black as obsidian. It ended in a small scarlet mouth surrounded by a ring of fingerlike tendrils.
Rishi stopped at the top of the stairs and reached past Atreus to catch Seema by the sleeve. “Good lady,” he said, “you are certain we need nothing but these stones?” He hefted the bucket of pebbles in his hand. “Whatever awaits us at the other end of that tentacle, I would feel much safer meeting it with an axe in my hands.”
“I do not care how you feel.” Seema pulled her arm free, then stepped onto the gallery with her own bucket of pebbles and said, “If you are afraid, do not come.”
Atreus winced at Seema’s harsh tone. She had agreed only hesitantly to help him find the source of the twinkling stream, and even more hesitantly to bring his companions along in case of trouble. He paused at the edge of the gallery and turned to the nervous Mar.
“Rishi, there’s no need for you inside. In fact, if something does happen, it might be better to have someone out here.”
“Are you saying I am a coward? I have every right to be here. If you want to leave someone behind, leave Yago!”
The Mar stepped past Atreus and followed Seema onto the gallery. Yago raised his brow and glanced back at the reflecting pool, clearly thinking it would be a fine place to wait.
“Sorry, Yago,” said Atreus. “If we do run into trouble, you’ll be our only advantage.”
“I’d be more of an advantage with a club,” grumbled the ogre. He shifted his hold on the heavy cask in his arms. “If that thing attacks us, what am I going to do with a bunch of pebbles?”
Atreus glanced at the huge tentacle stretched across the gallery, trying to imagine the size of the beast at the other end. “Probably the same thing you’d do with a club … not much.”
Carrying his own bucket of pebbles, Atreus stepped onto the gallery behind Seema and Rishi. On the other side of the scaly black tentacle, the stream of shining water spilled out from the palace’s central arch and split into two currents, one flowing toward Atreus and the other in the opposite direction. Though the water was only fingertip deep, Atreus could feel its magic prickling his feet through his boots.
Seema reached the tentacle and stopped to stare down at it. When the creature did not withdraw the scaly appendage, she shook her pebble bucket loudly, then squatted down and duck-walked underneath. When she stood on the other side, her chestnut skin had paled to the color of honey.
She waved Rishi under the tentacle. “Come along,” she said. “The Dweller won’t bother you.”
“You are certain?” Rishi asked.
Atreus gave the Mar a gentle nudge and said, “Go on.”
“Yeah … what you waiting for?” added Yago. “Ain’t you got every right to be here?”
Rishi scowled over his shoulder, shook his pebble bucket as Seema had, and ducked under the Dweller’s tentacle. When he reached the other side, he stood quickly and turned to face Atreus and Yago. Before the Mar could repay their taunts, the tentacle slowly untwined itself.
Rishi dropped his pebble bucket and leaped back, reaching under his cloak. The tentacle merely rippled back into the murky archway, and the Dweller vanished into the darkness.
Atreus caught Rishi’s wrist. “What have you got there?” he asked sternly. “Seema said no weapons.”
“Most definitely, she did,” Rishi admitted and drew up his cloak, displaying the yak-hair tunic underneath. “My reaction was only out of habit, as the good sir will certainly agree if he cares to examine my person.”
Atreus studied the Mar’s torso and the inside lining of his cloak. When he did not find the telltale bulge of a hidden knife, he motioned Rishi to lower his cloak.
“My apologies for doubting you.”
“No apologies necessary,” said Rishi. “The blame is mine, entirely and without sharing.”
Atreus motioned the Mar forward, feeling somewhat guilty for his suspicions. He was hardly blind to Rishi’s anger over the sannyasi’s decision, but it seemed hypocritical to doubt the Mar when he himself resented having to leave Langdarma. Seema had accused Sune of being cruel, but it seemed to Atreus that the sannyasi was the heartless one. If Langdarma could abide someone as bitter and sharp-tongued as Kumara, surely the valley would not be ruined by the presence of a single ugly westerner.
Seema paused to wait at the central arch, and they all stepped into the murky palace together. A film of cool dew formed on their skin almost instantly, and the air smelled as dank and earthy as a cavern. The trickle of running water came from every direction, echoing through a ghostly forest of alabaster support columns. The only light came from the sparkling stream itself, leading like an arrow straight to a distant aura of silver radiance.
Atreus glanced into the murk alongside the stream and saw the Dweller lurking among the shadows, a nebulous black shape silhouetted against the alabaster columns beyond. The monster seemed as large as an elephant, with a sluglike tail and a formless body covered in dense black scales. Just looking at it filled Atreus with a cold, queasy fear. Seema led the way deeper into the palace. The monster slithered along beside them, laying a swath of white slime in its wake. As it moved, it emitted a low, constant rumble that might have been a gurgling belly or a threatening growl.
The thing swung its gruesome head around, locking gazes with Atreus. Suddenly, he could see nothing but an ebony beak and three scarlet eyes ringed by a mane of writhing black tentacles. He felt goose bumps prickling his skin, shivers running down his spine, and something oily and alien gliding into his mind. He experienced a sensation somewhere between thought and emotion, an instinct of pure, unbridled malevolence that might have been the Dweller’s or his own.
Atreus wanted to look away but could not free himself from the monster’s gaze. It was as though one of the creature’s scaly tentacles had somehow slithered into his skull and wrapped its tiny fingers around his brain, holding his head motionless so that he could neither close his eyes nor look away. His thoughts and memories began to swirl through his mind in a wild cyclone, then he heard his pebble bucket crash to the floor and felt himself step forward.
As his foot came down, the monster blinked. Atreus found himself dangling above the ground, pinned to Yago’s massive chest. His face was cold and wet and tingling with the magic of the shining water, and Seema was stooping down before him, cupping her hands in the stream. She stood and hurled another handful into his eyes, nearly blinding him with brilliant flashes of silver.
“That’s enough … I can’t see it anymore!” Atreus said, shaking the water from his eyes. “I can’t
see anything.”
“That will pass soon enough,” said Seema. “But you must not allow the Dweller to lure you off. They are very unpredictable, and sometimes it is decades before they release their playmates.”
“They?” Atreus demanded. “There’s more than one?”
“So it is said,” Seema replied. “I have only seen one.”
“You told us it wasn’t dangerous,” growled Yago.
“I said you would not be harmed if you did exactly as I said,” replied Seema. “Has Atreus been harmed?”
The ogre placed Atreus on the ground and rapped him between the shoulders. Atreus, still struggling to overcome the water’s dazzling effects, stumbled two steps forward before catching his balance.
“I guess you’re okay,” said the ogre. “But I still don’t like coming in here with nothing but rocks. She could be leading us into a trap.”
“Seema wouldn’t do that,” said Atreus.
“Because you two did a fracas?” Yago mocked. Among ogres, it was not uncommon for an unhappy wife to arrange her mate’s death. “Maybe that’s the reason. It’s not like you’ve had a lot of practice with the real thing.”
“Seema’s not a thing,” Atreus said. “And humans don’t treat their mates … er, lovers … that way.”
“Why didn’t she warn us about that Dweller?” Yago demanded.
“The Dwellers summon every person differently,” Seema said. “I have heard of people being sung to or lured with sweet aromas—”
“And she didn’t want us to come here in the first place,” Yago continued, speaking over Seema. “She’s trying to protect something—just like she was trying to protect Langdarma when she nearly got you killed.”
“Yes, and I suspect now she’s trying to protect us,” said Atreus. He gestured into the shadows, which were empty of the Dweller. “Whatever that thing is, I don’t think weapons would do us much good.”
He gave Seema an apologetic shake of the head, picked up his pebble bucket, and gestured for her to lead the way. The Dweller did not show itself again, but they could hear it paralleling their course, its heavy body making wet sucking sounds as it slithered through the shadows alongside them.