Part 3 (2/2)
”We thought all those gates sealed as well, and the service ports. I'm surprised the alarms didn't sound. No matter. By whatever path you entered, take yourselves off by the selfsame-” ”But we can't!” Brandl cried. ”There are weaselhounds and trolls.”
The other sighed in agitation. ”Yes, of course. Oriencor's brood. I'd forgotten. Very well. I will open one of the airlocks for you and let you out into the desert.”
”We'll turn to stone when Solstar rises!” Collum exclaimed.
”We'll starve,” Brandl beside him said.
”Please, sir,” Maruha begged. She was panting again, holding her injured arm, near the end of her strength. ”We must see the Ravenna. This girl has the Witch's pin behind her ear-”
”That is not our concern!” the dark man's image answered sharply. ”We cannot attend to you.”
The pale girl growled. Desperate rage welled in her. She struck the man's image with the heel of her hand. The stone vibrated with a dull thrum, and the picture s.h.i.+mmered for a moment before reforming. His features flinched in surprise, then clouded with anger.
”Pardon, sir,” Maruha cried hurriedly. ”She is a child and has been injured by the Witch. Let us in, we beg you. The Ravenna...”
”Has seen no one from outside the Dome in a thousand years.” The man's black eyes turned on her impatiendy. ”Now be off. I will not admit you.”
Collum and Brandl s.h.i.+fted uneasily. Baring her teeth, the girl prepared to fly at him again.
”But you must,” Maruha pleaded.
”No!” the other began.
”Yes, Melkior,” another voice cut in quietly. ”You must.” The words were low and musical, a woman's voice. The pale girl relaxed even as the three duaroughs started and cast about, for the speaker was nowhere to be seen. The image of the dark man, too, glanced startled to one side. ”Admit them, Melkior,” the deep, sweet voice of the unseen speaker said. ”I will aid them.”
The girl stood alone in a sumptuous room. How long since she had entered the great hall through the black doorway, she did not know-an hour? Two? After the woman's words, the dark, s.h.i.+mmering force diat had buzzed and barred diem abrupdy vanished. Presendy Melkior-the man himself-had appeared, life-sized now, no longer the great magnified image.
Nevertheless he was very tall, towering over the pale girl. The duaroughs came scarcely to his sash. He led them in graciously enough, but with his mouth tight, brow furrowed in agitation.
The girl followed him eagerly down long, empty corridors, past dark, glinting galleries. In some of them, lights moving in the walls were making patterns: rose, yellow, violet, green. Nowhere were any lamps lit or any windows to be seen, but the darkness of the hall did not unease her. They met no one. Abruptly, their guide had halted, turning toward one wall. It parted like a curtain as he touched it, and the girl moved past him into the chamber beyond.
The air within was cool and strangely scented, but the floor beneath her feet was warm. It was utterly black, like noon sky between the stars. Curtains of pale gauze draped the windowless walls. As with the rest of the palace, the walls were made of gla.s.s: dark blue and rippled, it seemed to harbor a low inner fire that now and again coalesced into little strands of burning color.
The Call was overwhelming here. It surrounded her, equally strong on every side. She waited now, only remotely aware of the dark man barring the duaroughs from joining her, of Maruha's startled protests, broken off as the wall seamed shut. She stood alone, feeling the coolness of the air and the warmth of the black gla.s.s floor underfoot, gazing absently at the colored sparks winking and darting through the ultramarine walls.
The air in the room s.h.i.+fted, and she turned to see a very tall figure entering the chamber. The portal closed soundlessly behind the woman. Her silver slippers whispered on the floor. She stood even taller than the dark man had. Her features resembled his: high cheekbones, a broad flat nose and generous mouth, but her skin was dusky, not black. Her eyes were deeply blue. She was wearing a robe of jet and indigo. Her hair, dark and wavy, with silver threads, hung unbound behind her.
She paused just inside the chamber, surveying the pale girl for a long moment with blue and lionlike eyes.
”Do you know me, child?” she said at last, her voice very low and full of the music the girl remembered hearing at the greathall's outer door. The tall woman drew closer through the twilight. Her face, though unlined, gave the impression of great age, and her bearing, though upright, of great weariness. ”So the pilgrims' Call has brought you to me,” she said. ”I am glad you have come.”
But she sighed saying it. The pale girl looked at her. The other's face, full of welcome, seemed also strangely sad.
”What are you hiding beneath your hand?”
The girl felt not the slightest fear or urge to draw away. She considered only a moment before lifting her hand from her breast. The pearl's soft light shone through the fabric of her gown. Around them, light seemed to gather in the walls, the beads of fire brightening. The dark lady smiled.
”A lampwing's egg,” she murmured, ”already kindled! Oh, that is well, for none but a corundum sh.e.l.l can hold what I must give you. May I see it?”
Without hesitation, the pale girl drew out the s.h.i.+ning thing. The dusky woman took it in her palm and pa.s.sed her other hand over it. The pale girl started, frowning, stared. Her pearl had vanished.
”Don't fear,” said the other gently. ”I have it safe, and you will have it back soon, I promise. Now let me look at your head.
I want to see what the Witch has done to you.”
The pale girl did not flinch but bowed her head and let the lady's great, delicate hands comb carefully through her hair.
They stopped suddenly. She heard the other's indrawn breath.
”I see it now.”
The music of the other's voice was more soothing to the pale girl than water. She kept her eyes closed, her forehead resting against the tall woman's breast. The other sighed. She did not touch the pin, only kept one hand lightly on the girl's head, cradling it. The dark, rare fragrance that came to the girl from the other's hair, her robe, was like damp earth and flowers never before scented or known.
”But tell me how it came to pa.s.s that you allowed the Witch to put a pin behind your ear. You must have dropped your guard very low to have allowed her that-for she is terrified of you, my green-eyed girl, ever since you stole one of her darkangels in Avaric and made him a man again.”
She heard the other laugh softly, stroking her brow. The words evoked no memories, but she loved the touch of those hands. They were cool and silky dry and smelled of myrrh. This heavier air bore scents-sounds, too-so much more richly than the thin stuff outside the Dome.
Gently, the woman lifted her head. Dark blue eyes searched the girl's.
”Such green eyes you have, child. Corundum mingled with the gold, so that magic is as drawn to you as beebirds to wedding trumps.”
The pale girl closed her eyes, breathing in the heady fragrance of the lady and the room.
”Can you talk at all, child?” the dark lady asked her.
The girl ducked her head. She could not speak, did not want to, did not want to try.
”Try,” the tall woman urged. ”Let me see how deep the pin has bit.”
The pale girl s.h.i.+vered. ”Uh,” she managed, a dull and ugly sound. ”Uhn, mmh.”
The other frowned. ”Deep, I see.”
”Mmh,” the pale girl muttered. ”Ngh.”
One hand left her cheek. She sensed it hovering above the pin.
”Cold as winterock,” the dark lady whispered. ”Feel how it chills the air! There can be no leaving it, then. Rest your head against me, child.”
Gratefully, the girl pressed her cheek to the rich fabric of the other's robe. Some of it felt slick and cool, like wet leaves.
Other places were warm and napped, like stone moss or mouse's fur. She nestled closer.
”Peace,” the tall woman told her. ”Be still.” All at once, without warning, the girl felt the pin seized and twisted, plucked suddenly free. The air gave a crackling hiss, smelled acrid of scorching. Then pain rushed into the wound like a flood of fire.
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