Authors: L. E. Modesitt
Pink…
and purple… was that the Regent of the Matrial?
He
scarcely wanted to go there. Where else could he go? He took out the ifrit map
of Corus and scanned it, once, twice. His memory had been correct. There had
been no pink purple Table, but there had been a maroon and blue Table—in Dulka.
So what had created the pink and green portal if there had been no Table?
Something that the Matrial had discovered?
He
shook his head. He still needed to find Wendra, and if he could not find her
near the abandoned portals, he would have to try the Tables in places where he
had not yet been. And… if he could not find her, he might have to risk the
Table in Salaan in order to return to Dekhron.
For
the moment, he pushed that thought away. He had to find Wendra… as soon as he
had a few moments of rest.
As
he sat on the stone floor in the former Table chamber in Dereka, Alucius
frowned. From what he could tell, he’d been gone three days, and that wasn’t
good. He had yet to find any sign of Wendra, and he had no quick way to return
to Dekhron—except by facing at least two ifrits in Salaan. While they might not
always be right at the Table, the only way out was through the area where they
seemed to meet and work. Then, too, with the way the one had appeared, he had
to consider that they might have a Talent-based warning system. Add to that the
fact that he was the commander of the Northern Guard, and he’d effectively
deserted, even if he hadn’t meant to, and he hadn’t solved the ifrit problem.
Nor had he found Wendra.
His
note to Feran might buy some time, especially since Feran knew the problems
created by the traders, but he had to find some answers or some way back
quickly—for more than one reason. If Wendra were in danger, the longer she was
held, the more likely the ifrits might be able to possess her—or kill her if
they could not. Yet… he really didn’t know whether they even had his wife.
Could the soarers have taken her? Only the ifrits or the soarers seemed to be
able to travel from point to point without leaving traces. But… even if they
could, why would the soarers take Wendra? And Alendra? Everything that they had
done in the past had protected Alucius. Were they trying to protect her as
well? From what? The efforts of the ifrits?
He
had no idea exactly what the ifrits were doing, beyond the general description
provided by the soarers about the ifrits’ domination and eventual destruction
of Corus. Had more ifrits arrived from their world? If so, what could he do,
especially since the soarers seemed to have cut themselves off from the travel
tubes of the ifrits and even from the deeper lines of travel that Alucius had
discovered?
He
took a deep breath. He was rested, and there were only two portals left that he
had not explored—the one in Dulka, and the one that reminded him of the
Matrial. What else could he do but explore each, as quickly as possible? If he
found nothing… then what?
Did
he try to return to the Table in Salaan, rifle loaded and cartridge belt filled
with lifeforce-filled shells?
He
didn’t see any alternative. But first… the last two portals. Maybe they would
reveal something that he didn’t know. Each time he tried, he could also see if
he could sense a soarer portal.
Alucius
stepped into the Table depression, rifle again in hand, taking several deep
breaths.
Once more, he sank through the floor and into the deeper and more
greenish black misty darkness underlying the purpled blackness of the ifrit
transport tubes. The chill, while intense, was not nearly so wearing, and he
tried to concentrate on the portal that was blue and maroon, and avoid the
purple and pink one until later.
Alucius focused his mind on lifting himself out of the misty
blackness, out of the chill and back into the world of light through the blue
and maroon. Once more, there was a barrier, one of blued silver. He formed
himself into a spearhead of being…
Silver, blue, and maroon mixed in a swirl of chill slashes that
shattered away from him in icy shards.
The
chamber in which he found himself was empty, and he stood in the oblong
depression that had characterized all chambers that had once held an ifrit
Table. For a moment, Alucius gripped his rifle even more tightly as he saw the
ifrit figures standing on the stone floor around the Table depression. He
relaxed slightly as he realized that they were statues, but statues such as he
had never seen.
The
larger-than-life-sized figures were carved of white marble. All thirteen
figures had hair painted black and wore clothing of the type that the
Tarolt-ifrit had worn, brilliant green and deep purple. Likewise, the sculpted
boots had been painted black. The facial features were similar to those of the
ifrit on the frieze in Southgate or those depicted in the ancient wall
paintings he had seen years before in the hidden room in Dereka.
There
were six figures on each of the longer sides of the chamber and a single figure
at one end. The single figure was slightly larger than the others, close to
three yards in height, and held a silver scepter topped with glittering blue
stones arranged so that the top of the scepter resembled a blue flame. The facets
of the gems reflected the illumination from ancient light-torches, more than a
dozen.
Alucius
immediately used his Talent to scan the chamber, but he was the only living
being within it, although he could sense others farther away. He stepped out of
the Table depression and studied the chamber more carefully.
The
light-torches were different. In fact, no one bracket was the same as any
other. Nor were the shapes of the lights. Likewise, the clothes on the statues,
while superficially identical, varied in fabric and weave, and even in the more
subtle shadings, so that every shade of green and purple varied slightly from
every other.
The
same was true of the ifrit statues. All twelve of those along the sides of the
chamber were roughly a head taller than Alucius when he stood beside them, but
their heights varied slightly. Each statue had the left arm by its side, and
the right raised as if in a stiff-armed and fingers-pointed salute to the
taller figure at the end of the chamber, but none of the arms were quite at the
exact same angle as any other. There was no way to tell if the differences were
merely the attempt not to have identical statues or inaccurate copying.
Another
sweep of the chamber with eyes and Talent revealed nothing besides the statues
and the light-torches, and Alucius moved toward the stone door on the side of
the chamber. This door was open and had been slid back, revealing a
stone-walled corridor.
He
could sense the green of Talent at the end of the stone passageway—but how far
beyond he could not tell. There were also others in that chamber. But Talent?
Could someone have brought Wendra?
He
frowned. The Talent was greenish, but did not feel exactly the same. Yet… if
she had been drugged or restrained… If it were not Wendra… the Talent was certainly
not purple-tinged, not in the fashion of an ifrit.
After
a moment, he took a deep breath and eased into the stone corridor that
stretched a good ten yards toward what had to be a screen wall beyond the
ending archway. The corridor held the odor of burned oil, and he looked up. The
entire stone roof was covered in black, as if lamps and torches had traversed
the passageway for years, if not centuries. The walls were bare stone, and the
floor had been recently swept, although the center of the stone paving was
lower than the edges, an indication that many feet had traveled the passage
over the years.
As
he neared the end of the passage, lighter from illumination beyond, he could
see that, as in Hyalt, the archway at the end had edges lined in maroon ceramic
tile, but the tiles looked older and the color had faded. Alucius could hear
voices beyond the stone screen wall that blocked his view of the chamber
beyond.
After
a slight hesitation, he called up his illusion of nothingness, moving to the
archway, but not beyond. He used his Talent to scan the space beyond the wall
screen. As in Hyalt, there was a square platform five yards by five yards
beyond the wall screen. Beyond the platform extended a large cavernlike
amphitheater.
Unlike
Hyalt, there were people on the platform. A man sat in a throne-like chair upon
the dais, and on each side of him were two guards, armed with shortswords and
rifles. The figure in the chair was not an ifrit, nor ifrit-possessed, but,
from what Alucius could sense, all five were garbed in a fashion similar to the
garments on the ifrit statues.
In
the amphitheater itself were but a handful of people, or so it seemed.
The
figure in the chair on the dais wore a black mask across his eyes, a mask with
no slits for eyes. Was he blind? Or was the mask to show his ability to act
without eyes.
“Silence!”
commanded the blind man.
Instantly,
the guards froze.
Sensing
a faint Talent-probe, Alucius eased back into the stone passageway that led
back toward the Table chamber.
“There
is an intruder! In the sacred passage! Kill him!”
Alucius
turned and ran for the Table chamber. He had to get out of the passageway
before they started firing, because the bullets would likely ricochet
everywhere, and if they fired quickly and often enough, one could easily hit
him where he wore no nightsilk.
He
scrambled into the Table depression, standing in the middle, trying to ignore
both the statues and his pursuers. Concentrating, he tried to call up the sense
of the portal, even as the sound of boots pounding down the narrow stone
passageway grew louder and as shots flew out of the passageway toward him. He
began to drop into the greenish black mistiness that lay beneath the purpled
black of the ifrit tube.
A
dull lancelike blow slammed into his shoulder, followed by a second and a
third…
As he sank into the misty blackness, his whole side and upper
body were a mixture of chill and burning pain. What was he doing? He had to
think. What was it? Where was he trying to go? Back to Dereka… but it was so
far… and there were no green and gold portals of the soarers… and he was
getting so cold… so very cold… he struggled… trying to orient himself in the
darkness…
The Hidden City, Corus
Wendra
stepped back from the mirror-portal. Agony and chill flowed from the black
crystal on her ringer. She looked at it, although she did not need to. Within
the carrypack, Alendra whimpered, as if in pain.
Wendra’s
eyes flicked to the soarer. “Alucius needs me. He needs me now!”
You have not learned enough.
“He’s
hurt and somewhere in a tube or a ley line. I can feel it. I’ll help him back.
You can teach me more then. Unblock your portals.
Please
.”
The
soarer offered a fatalistic sense of a shrug.
It is
dangerous. If you fail, then all you know and love may be lost
.
“It
doesn’t matter! Without both of us, everything is lost.” Wendra squared her
shoulders. “Are you going to offer me some guidance?”
You must use your thoughts to guide you, and to seek not the
places marked with arrows, but those less obvious, those with hidden circles.
He is near the circle that is… blue and maroon… as you would see it
. The
soarer seemed to blur.
The portals are unblocked, but you
must hasten
.
Without
speaking, Wendra adjusted Alendra in the carrypack and stepped onto the
mirrored surface. She began to drop into the misty black greenness.
Behind
her, the soarer sank to the floor, wings drooping, its gold and green
iridescence fading away.
Alucius tried to concentrate
…
his
thoughts questing for the hidden crimson gold portal, but
all he could sense was the blue arrow and the dark green one, the two where the
ifrits waited… and he knew… injured as he was, he would have little chance
.
Where was the crimson gold? He would have blinked if he could,
but he sensed something, something green and gold… so distant… and seemingly
receding from him. He struggled toward the green and gold, pressing, but he
felt as though he made no progress, and all the time, greater and greater chill
pressed in around him.
Suddenly, a line of warmth touched him… and a gentle pressure…
Was it a soarer? Had the green and gold been a portal opening?
He could sense a presence, urging him, pressing him, guiding him,
even somehow lending him strength as he struggled toward the green and gold
portal that no longer receded. Still, the journey seemed endless.
Then… the green and gold shattered into silver shards…
Alucius
tottered on shaky legs. He could feel dampness running down the side of his
face, and there was an iron coppery taste in his mouth. Around him was amber,
but he could not see it. He could only feel it, yet everything was amber.
“You’re
hurt,” a voice said.
He
knew he should have recognized the voice, but before he could put a name to the
speaker, his legs trembled and gave way. A golden redness swept across him, and
everything began to spin, swirling around him, faster and faster.
Deep
darkness washed over him, a darkness filled with fire, and purpled visions, and
ifrits who stood back and laughed, and ifrit palaces whose walls contracted
upon him.
Alucius
woke. His eyes opened, and… he could see nothing. Nothing at all. There was no
amber, no red, no green, just a solid black that revealed nothing. He
shuddered. Where was he? What had happened? Why couldn’t he see?