Part 7 (2/2)

As he spoke, the face of the cliff began to change. Sheets of flowing green appeared, a bright wash of color that covered a portion of the bare rock. Ynyr stepped forward... to be swallowed up by the waterfall as though the stone beyond had vanished. Colwyn followed. Torquil glanced meaningfully down at his companion.

Ergo shrugged. ”All right, so that's a good reason. I didn't see him do anything, though.” But the condition of his belly belied his words as he watched the disdainful Torquil disappear into the green cascade.

First you threaten to turn a king into a toad and now you dispute a true wise man's knowledge. It was a wonder he was still alive.

For several moments he debated whether to follow or return to the camp. As he hesitated, he fingered the interior of a pocket. He was already out of gooseberries. Nothing to live for, then.

Cursing under his breath at having fallen in with such a group of visionaries and thieves, he reluctantly hurried to catch up with the others.

”Mad,” he mumbled as he stepped anxiously into the waterfall. ”They're all mad.”

Inside they found themselves walking down a pa.s.sageway lit by the same cool green glow that had suffused the waterfall. It led inward and down. The slope was gentle.

Colwyn was glad of the coolness. He'd recently found himself inside a mountain cave where the air was considerably less hospitable. Clearly this place was nothing like the cavern of the glaive. There was no steam, no sign of lava or stink of sulfur. The temperature stayed pleasant as they walked, though he wondered at the complete absence of any breeze.

The tunnel made a sharp turn to the right and opened onto a s.p.a.cious chamber that had been hollowed from the rock by some unknown force. Light penetrated from above, so bright that its source could not be discerned. The walls and ceiling were smooth and relatively featureless. Colwyn could not tell if the chamber had been formed by natural forces or the hand of man.

The room was spa.r.s.ely decorated. A few draperies and hangings, utensils and plates of common shape and manufacture. On a simple seat sat an old man whose gaze seemed to be elsewhere. Colwyn advanced, his eyes never leaving the white-bearded figure. He noted the way the eyes twitched absently, never focusing on anything in particular.

Seer or not, this old man would seek his visions without the aid of normal sight. He was quite blind. Close by sat a young boy whose eyes never left the visitors. The child's movements were short and quick. Colwyn thought of the cats that infested Turold Castle. Here in this boy they surely had a quiet, two-legged relation.

The stone that rested before the old man elicited a gasp of admiration from Torquil, professional reliever of other men's possessions that he was. The emerald glowed with a powerful inner light and was no less than the size of the old man's head. Colwyn suspected that it was not the ordinary stone of Torquil's avaricious dreaming but rather a colorful manifestation of much more, just as its owner's vision extended into realms other men saw only as darkness and mystery.

The old man's hands moved through a picture hovering above the pulsating gem: the image of four wanderers. Colwyn had no difficulty recognizing his companions and himself. The wrinkled fingers swept easily through the image like birds through a cloud, without altering or distorting it. Unable to sense their presence with his eyes, the seer was tasting of his visitor's essence via means they could not fathom.

”I recognize an old friend,” he said softly. Ynyr motioned for Colwyn and the others to wait. He stepped forward toward the seer. The boy watched carefully.32 ”A fellow student of knowledge,” the seer continued, his fingers picking at smoke.

Ergo and Torquil did not have to be ordered to stay back. Such activities gave the prosaic thief the s.h.i.+vers, while Ergo finally allowed himself to relax. Torquil moved off by himself, intent on the bright crystals that poked from the rocks.

A voice drew Ergo's attention. ”My name is t.i.tch.” The boy had come up quietly alongside him. He offered milk in a cup. Ergo accepted with thanks, though wis.h.i.+ng for something stronger as he watched the two wise men.

”Greetings, friend of my youth,” said Ynyr. ”I see that your seeing is little changed.”

The seer's smile widened slightly. ”Alas, I see that which others cannot see, and would gladly trade all for the ability to see as they do. Such is not my fate, however. How may I a.s.sist you?”

Ynyr took a deep breath. Friend or not, the seer still abided by certain rules and restrictions. Would he aid them, even if he could?

”We seek the Black Fortress.”

The seer nodded as if acknowledging something beyond their ken. ”I suspected it was no simple request that brought you this far. Such a vision will be opposed.

This is not the kind of request I expected from you, old friend. The Black Fortress, you say. Who seeks it?”

”The new king.”

”King of what?”

”Of Turold and Eirig and perhaps a greater realm still... if fortune travels with us.”

”A capricious traveling companion indeed. As for this new king you speak of, I know him not.”

Colwyn stepped forward to stand next to Ynyr. ”I am here, espier of the distant mysteries. Ynyr serves me and my purpose.”

”Ynyr serves no man, be he king or commoner,” said the seer with a knowing smile that made Colwyn wonder, ”but while your reasons may differ, I see that your purposes are the same.” Colwyn did not comment. Let the seer believe what he wished. All Colwyn wanted was the way to Lyssa.

”He does not speak,” said the seer.

”For a young man he is wise,” Ynyr said.

”Very well then. I will seek the Fortress for you.” He pushed back his sleeves and leaned forward to press both hands tight against the emerald... if emerald it was. Torquil was no longer so certain.- There was a hint of something else about the stone. Could it be another substance made to look like an emerald? A roundabout way to hide a secret.

As he stared, the irregular green object began to spin on its axis. A deep whir emerged from green depths. It reminded Torquil of a waterwheel at flood time.

Soon it was rotating rapidly enough to make him dizzy and he found he had to turn his gaze away from it.

A shape was close at his side and he had to force himself not to jump. d.a.m.n, but the boy could move quietly!

t.i.tch held the stoneware pitcher. Irritated at his nervousness, Torquil declined a refill. The boy turned to Ergo, repeated the offering.

”Milk gives me gas. Can't handle too much of the stuff,” Ergo explained.

”Got any sugar b.a.l.l.s?”

”No.”

”Gumdrops? Caramel ladies? Chocolate strings or honey-dew squares?”

”No, sir,” said t.i.tch apologetically.

Ergo looked displeased. ”What kind of boy are you? Boys always have candy.

Though perhaps I am asking too much. This is no normal home for a child. I should not be surprised that you have no access to sweets.”

The boy thought a moment, then brightened, eager to please. He fumbled in a pocket. ”I have a cinnamon bar.”

”Ah, sweets in a sour place after all.” A beatific smile spread over Ergo's face. t.i.tch held the bar out to his guest but Ergo shook his head.

”Your hospitality is admirable for one so young, but I will not take all your candy. Share and share alike's my motto.” Having said this, he extended a hand.33 t.i.tch grinned and broke the bar in two. Ergo's graciousness did not prevent him from taking the larger half and popping it into his mouth.

”Thank you, boy. My stomach was growing tired of naught but healthful food.

For that boon I will tell you my full name. I am”-he hesitated, chewing and trying not to mumble the words-”Ergo the Magnificent. Short in stature, tall in power, narrow of purpose, wide of vision.” He looked at the boy. ”What do you think of that, eh?”

”That is very impressive, sir,” t.i.tch admitted.

”I should hope so.” Ergo smiled contentedly as he masticated the spicy remnants of the cinnamon bar.

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