by Troy Denning
After Atreus’s nose grew accustomed to the cavernlike smell of the place, he began to notice the subtle stench of brimstone wafting through the alabaster forest. At first, he thought it might be some odor the creature was emitting. Then he started to glimpse the jagged throats of rough-hewn tunnels along the palace walls. They had passed into the mountain itself.
As they neared the back of the huge chamber, the forest of alabaster pillars gave way to a black granite wall. The aura of silver radiance continued to brighten, and they soon recognized it as the shining aura of a small pond, formed when an alabaster pillar toppled or was pushed across the stream. The falling column had brought with it a sizable heap of rubble that someone had shaped into a shallow dam. On one rim of this dam sat a small marble bench, and scattered across its surface were a dozen floating lotus blossoms.
Beyond the pond, barely visible through its cloudy aura of brilliance, an even brighter stream of twinkling water cascaded down a stairway from the unseen depths of the palace’s inner sanctum. Atreus smiled. The water appeared to be growing more potent as they neared its source.
The Dweller emerged from the shadows beside the pond, its big belly scales hissing across the stone floor as it slithered up to the dam. Atreus’s stomach turned cold and queasy again. Without really meaning to, he stopped and averted his gaze, watching from the corner of his eye as the monster stuck its tentacle-festooned head into the water.
The creature looked as though it were drinking, but then it began to stretch forward and twist its neck about, searching for something on the bottom of the pool. Seema continued forward until she could peer over the rubble dam down into the pond, and waved her companions forward.
“This is very special,” she whispered. “You must see.”
Rishi crept ahead without hesitation, but Atreus found himself lagging behind, struggling with his memory of how easily the monster had taken control of him. Only his bodyguard’s looming presence, and the certain knowledge that the ogre would interpret any hesitation as further evidence of Seema’s untrustworthiness, compelled Atreus forward at all.
When he reached Seema’s side, he bit his cheeks to keep from crying out in wonder. The bottom of the pool was buried in diamonds, rubies, sapphires, every type of precious stone, all in their natural form and some as large as a man’s thumb. The Dweller was rummaging through the jewel bed, pulling out the brightest stones and holding each one to an eye for a closer examination. It threw many stones back, usually those cloudier or less deeply colored than their fellows. It placed the other gems into the scarlet mouths at the end of its tentacles and sucked them up inside the scaly appendages.
“Seema, you are a hopeless liar!” cried Rishi. “Did you not tell me just this morning there was no treasure in Langdarma?”
“This is not Langdarma’s treasure.” Seema smirked at the Mar as though daring him to steal it. “It belongs to the Dwellers, and you must not touch it.”
“Are you mad?” Rishi gasped. “Those are diamonds … and rubies. They are not meant to fill the gizzard of some overgrown snail!”
“They will not,” said Seema. “The Dwellers take them down into the mountains and plant them beneath the far reaches of the Yehimals.”
“Where they will not be found for centuries?” A larcenous gleam appeared in Rishi’s eye, and he seemed unable to rip his gaze from pool bottom as he said, “What good does that do? It is better for me to take them now. I can carry them straight to the finest markets in the Five Kingdoms.”
The Mar dropped his bucket and started forward without awaiting Seema’s reply, but Atreus quickly caught him by the shoulder.
“Don’t you think the Dweller will object to another pair of hands in its gem bed? Seema promised no harm would come to us as long as we did what she said. I intend to see to it that we honor our agreement.”
Rishi’s gaze ran along the pool bottom to one of the Dweller’s scaly tentacles, then up the appendage to the shapeless bulk of the monster’s huge body. The larcenous gleam faded from his eyes, and he seemed slowly to return to his senses.
“You are absolutely right. A thousand gratitudes. I was lost in the monster’s fiendish grip and would certainly have brought a swift and terrible end to us all if not for your ready intervention.”
“The Dweller calls to each of us in a different way,” Seema agreed. “I am glad you have heard yours and returned to us whole.”
“We will have to wait until after the monster is gone,” the Mar said, then sat down on his pebble bucket, his gaze still fixed on the pool. “Surely, there will be a bucketful left for us.”
Seema’s face grew stern and she said, “Even if you had so many days, that is not why I brought you here.” She jerked Rishi to his feet, snatched his bucket up, and thrust it into his hands. “Let us do what we came to do and be gone.”
Seema cast an angry look at Atreus, clearly holding him responsible for the Mar’s sacrilege, then climbed onto the dam and dumped her pebble bucket into the shining basin. A tentacle snaked over to inspect the stones and rose briefly out of the pool and slapped the surface, splashing Seema with a stream of shining water. It was impossible to guess whether the gesture was one of thanks or irritation.
Seema motioned the others over, gesturing for them to do as she had. After dumping their buckets, Atreus and Rishi each received a similar splash. When Yago dumped his cask, the Dweller rested its tentacle on his shoulder and rubbed his face, smearing the ogre’s orange cheek with white slime.
“Hey!”
Yago knocked the tentacle away and the Dweller responded by flicking the appendage back toward him. When the ogre fell for the feint and brought his other arm across to block, the monster struck, slapping Yago alongside the head so hard that he tumbled backward off the dam. He landed with a deafening crash and sprang instantly to his feet, only to find the tentacle’s fingerlike end tendrils waving in his face.
Keeping a cautious eye on the tendrils, Yago began to edge toward the marble bench.
“Yago!” Seema hissed, wrapping both hands around the ogre’s wrist and pulling him toward the head of the pool. “What are you doing?”
“You saw,” the ogre said as he backed away from the Dweller. “That thing went after me!”
“It was only playing,” Atreus said, hoping he was right. “If that monster had been attacking, I doubt any of us would be here.”
Seema nodded, her eyes as hard as ice. “I pray we are not about to discover the truth of that,” she said, and began to edge along the dam toward the granite stairs. “I do not know what the Dweller will do when we pass the Pool of Gems. I have never been beyond here.”
Rishi rolled his eyes, clearly believing this was just one more lie designed to protect Langdarma’s secret treasures.
Atreus stepped to the head of the line. “In that case,” he said, “let me go first … alone. If the Dweller objects, perhaps he will only attack me.”
“I’m the bodyguard,” objected Yago.
“But it’s my quest,” Atreus said, then made the small leap from the dam to the first step. “What does it mean if I don’t go first?”
Yago frowned, and Atreus ascended the staircase while the ogre was still trying to puzzle out the question. The Dweller raised its tentacles and cocked its head, its dark scarlet eyes growing steadily dimmer as Atreus climbed out of the pool’s brilliant aura. He averted his own glance and was careful not to lock gazes with the monster. When the trio of scarlet eyes finally faded to nothingness, the creature let out one of its low belly rumbles and splashed its tentacles back into the water.
Atreus found himself standing alone at the entrance to what appeared to be a narrow, vaulted temple. Down each side ran a low meditation platform covered in the moldering remains of folded carpets. On the walls hung tatters of silken tapestries whose patterns and colors had long ago vanished into dust and mildew. The shining stream ran straight up the aisle between the meditation platforms, narrowing in the distance until it finally vanished
into the darkness.
“Atreus?” called Seema. For the first time since leaving her hut, there was genuine concern in her voice. “Is everything well?”
“It’s fine. Come up.”
His companions emerged from the cloudy aura one after the other, each entering the strange vault in awestricken silence. Once they had gathered, Atreus quietly led the way up the aisle. A low murmur began to resonate in the back of his mind, growing more noticeable as they progressed. It was not a sound, but rather the perception of a sound, an echo that reverberated inside his head without passing through his ears.
The murmur became a rhythmic growl, then a deep, guttural chant, and finally an eerie pulsing roar as mesmerizing as it was maddening. Atreus looked back and found Yago and Rishi staring wide-eyed at the dark walls.
“You hear it too?”
Though Atreus had intended to speak only loud enough to make himself understood, his voice rang through the silent temple like a thunderclap.
Both Yago and Rishi nodded nervously.
“It says, ‘Luck and Happiness to all creatures. May the Serene Ones spread their grace over the world,’ ” explained Seema. “The ancient monks filled the stones with their voices, and now the walls are ringing their chants back to us.”
“The walls?” grumbled Yago. “It sounds like ghosts.”
Seema whirled on the ogre. “You mustn’t say such things,” she said. “Not here!”
Yago’s orange cheeks darkened. “Sorry,” the ogre apologized. “I didn’t know they was listening.”
Atreus led the way down the aisle. The chanting continued to swell, but as they grew accustomed to it, it became almost calming. They soon found themselves droning along, “Omna lo reng ge suun, song tse ngampo ge lung pa … omna lo reng ge suun, song tse ngampo ge lung pa …”
The chant seemed to free their minds from all awareness of time and space, so they were all taken by surprise when the sparkling stream suddenly narrowed and became a fan-shaped cascade spilling down yet another stone stairway. For a moment, Atreus just stood there, too mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm inside his head to realize what he was seeing. His gaze began to rise, following the stream up a long series of steps to the summit of a pyramidal dais.
On top sat a pair of golden yaks, kneeling across from each other and facing a great alabaster altar inlaid with a thousand-spoked wheel of gleaming silver. At one end of the altar sat three elegant vessels: a bronze brazier with incense smoke still rising from its heart, a glass butter lamp with a tiny flame still flickering on its wick, and a jade vase with a single hibiscus blossom still rising from its mouth. At the other end sat three plain objects: a loaf of steaming rice-bread, a tin caster filled with fresh cinnamon, and a sandalwood lute still resonating from the touch of its last player.
In the center of the altar, resting on its side between the two groups of sacred objects, lay what Atreus had come so far to find, a platinum cup rimmed in sapphires and rubies, from whose mouth spilled a perpetual stream of glittering silver water.
Rishi clutched Atreus’s arm and whispered, “Good sir, your wisdom and faith are the measure of all men!” The Mar glanced over his shoulder. “If I may suggest a small precaution, we should see to Seema with every haste.”
Atreus tore his eyes from the altar and scowled down at Rishi and said, “See to her?”
Rishi winced, then held a finger to his lips. “Quietly, good sir,” he cautioned. “I am sure it will only take one scream, and then the Dweller will come running.”
Atreus glanced back at Seema, who was standing at the base of the dais as awestruck as he. “Why would she do that?” he asked.
Rishi raised his brow, genuinely surprised. “Is it not obvious?” he whispered. “Your goddess sent you here to steal the Fountain of Infinite Grace … that is how you are to return the shining water to Erlkazar.”
The Mar’s sly logic stunned Atreus. It was an elegant solution to an otherwise impossible problem, but for the one detail Rishi had overlooked.
“Sune would never want such a thing.”
“Want what thing?” asked Seema, finally drawn out of her reverie.
Rishi glanced at Yago, then cocked his head meaningfully in her direction. Atreus scowled and shook his head.
Getting no answer to her question, Seema stepped to Atreus’s side and asked, “What is all this whispering?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Atreus replied.
He was careful not to look in the direction of the alabaster altar, but Seema’s suspicions were already raised. She glanced at the toppled cup, her eyes lit in understanding, and she grabbed Atreus’s arm with surprising strength.
“You would steal Langdarma’s beauty?”
“No,” Atreus said, and covered Seema’s fingers with his hand. “Sune would not want me to. The last thing she would want is to spoil a place like Langdarma.”
Yago rolled his eyes and quickly looked away, but his skepticism was not lost on Rishi.
“What do you think, my friend?” asked the Mar. “Is this Sune not a jealous goddess, who might very well resent this stream of beauty pouring forth from her ancient rival’s temple?”
The ogre gave a grudging shrug. “She’s fickle enough,” he said. “I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
Seema paled, turning to call the Dweller.
Atreus pulled her back, clamping a hand over her mouth. “You have nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “Even if Sune did want the fountain, how could we get it past the Dweller? I’m sure it would frown on us stealing the source of its shining pool.”
“How would it know until it was too late to stop us?” asked Rishi, smiling.
The Mar bounded up the dais and snatched the cup off the altar, eliciting a muffled scream from Seema.
“Put that back!” Atreus ordered.
“Have no worry, I am not stealing the cup,” said Rishi. “I am only demonstrating how such a thing might be possible, in case the good sir should in his own judgment consider it necessary.”
“I won’t.”
Rishi paid Atreus no attention, began to descend the dais, and said, “You see?” The Mar stopped two steps above, holding the cup sideways so that the water continued to pour out at an even rate. “In this manner, we could advance all the way to the stairs above the Pool of Gems, where we might wait until the Dweller wandered away on its business. Or perhaps we would send someone to distract it while the others fled with the Fountain of Infinite Grace.”
“How do we escape Langdarma before the sannyasi catches us?” Atreus asked, more to prove the impossibility of Rishi’s plan than because he was really interested. Or so he told himself. “From what little I recall, the Passing was something of a challenge.”
Rishi’s smile grew confident “Langdarma is difficult to enter, but easy to leave,” he said. “Yago and I learned of many exits while we were searching for the fountain.”
Seema’s body stiffened. She began to struggle in Atreus’s arms, going so far as to bite his palm. He winced, then pointed his chin at the altar.
“Put it back,” Atreus said, feeling Seema’s chin grow slick with his blood. “Sune didn’t send me here to steal the fountain or anything else.”
Rishi’s eyes hardened and he demanded, “Do you never think of anyone beyond yourself?” He glanced back toward the alabaster altar. “I am sure that any two of those treasures would make me the wealthiest bahrana in the Five Kingdoms!”
“I’m tired of telling you.” Atreus caught Yago’s eye, swung his chin toward the Mar, and said, “Feel free to break an arm if he doesn’t give it to you.”
Instead of rushing to obey, the ogre asked, “You sure about that?”
“What?” Atreus gasped, astonished by Yago’s disobedience. “You can’t be with him!”
Yago scowled, clearly insulted. “ ’Course not!” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out why you want to stay ugly for the rest of your life.” The ogre glanced at Rishi and added, “He’
s right about Sune. You know he is. I didn’t come all this way to see you go home empty-handed.”
Atreus fell silent, weighing the ogre’s opinion and hating himself for it. To even consider the possibility that Sune had sent him after the cup was a betrayal of Seema’s love, yet the way she continued to struggle in his arms made it clear that she believed he had already forsaken her. He glanced down and noticed his blood drops falling into the stream of sparkling water and turning into little beads of gold. Everyone but him, it seemed, knew exactly what the goddess expected.
“On my heart,” Atreus growled. “How I wish I could stay.”
“But the sannyasi will not permit it, and so he deserves what he shall receive.” Rishi smirked, then started back up the dais. “Come along, Yago, and help me retrieve the rest of the treasure.”
“No,” Atreus said, closing his eyes. “Don’t do it.”
Seema stopped struggling, astonished, and Rishi spun on his heel, spraying her and Atreus with a stream of shining water.
“What?” the Mar demanded.
Atreus opened his eyes again. “We came to fill the vial.” He pointed his chin toward the cup. “Put it back.”
Rishi glared at Seema icily, clearly blaming her for the loss of his fortune. A crafty gleam came to his eye.
“You are very clever, good sir. If the water loses its sparkle again, we can always return for the cup in the morning. But how will you pay me with all your gold lost in the river? Even the clothes on your back are not your own.”
Seema tensed at Rishi’s words, but she did not resume her struggle. Though even Atreus could not say what he would do if the water lost its sparkle again, he sensed that Seema hoped as much as he that he would not have to make the choice. He glanced in Yago’s direction and nodded.
“Give me that!” Yago’s gangling arm lashed out, ripping the cup from Rishi’s hands and inadvertently turning it upside down.
It was as though the ogre had punched a hole in the bottom of a lake. A raging torrent of water poured from the mouth of the chalice, instantly sweeping the legs out from under Atreus and Rishi and sweeping them down the aisle.