Part 6 (2/2)
”No. It's too heavy.”
”Can you cut through it?” asked Tal, thinking of the portraits of former Lectors that were hung in the Lectorium. They were painted on cloth stretched on metal frames.
Crow tapped the obstruction again and shook his head.
”It's made of something solid. I think... I think it's a thin sheet of metal. It might even be a mirror.”
”I guess we'll just have to risk it,” Tal said finally. ”And hope that everyone is down fighting Icecarls.”
Crow nodded and began to push at the top of the sheet. It slowly s.h.i.+fted, with a screeching sound that set Tal's hair on edge.
”Hurry up!” he said. The continuous screech of metal on stone was bad enough, let alone any other noise. ”Adras, help him!”
Adras flowed around Tal and pushed with his huge puffy arms. Almost immediately the screeching stopped, and the whole sheet of metal fell forward, letting in bright Violet-tinged Sunstone light from the broad corridor beyond.
Crow, Tal, and Adras watched the rectangle of metal fall, all of them tensed for the sound it would make. But none of them was prepared for the tremendous crash that did eventuate, nor the ringing sound that continued afterward, a ringing that echoed everywhere.
Light flashed everywhere, too, for the sheet was a mirror of highly polished silver. It quivered on the floor, sending wild flashes in all directions.
”Quick!” said Tal, and the three of them squeezed out into the Grand Parade. With the ringing still in their ears, they looked every which way for possible enemies and somewhere to run to.
Then they all stopped and stared.
Diagonally opposite them were two enormous arched doors. They were made of the ancients' golden metal, but studded with tiny Sunstones so that they shone in all colors, ripples of rainbow light constantly s.h.i.+mmering across their surface.
Both doors were partly open. But neither the Sunstone-laden doors nor the fact that they were open had stopped Tal and Crow in their tracks.
It was the piled-up bodies of dead Chosen sprawled in front of the doors. More than a dozen of them, including Chosen in Violet robes and guards. There was no sign of any Spiritshadows.
The last echo faded away, and the silver mirror lay still.
”Sus.h.i.+n did get here first,” said Crow.
Tal nodded and tore his gaze away, to check along the Grand Parade. He'd never been here before, though he had come to the Violet levels once. The Grand Parade lived up to its name, as a sweeping, broad corridor that went for stretches and stretches in either direction, before it curved away.
There was no one in sight, at least no one alive. Tal went forward to examine the dead Chosen. They all looked surprised, rather than afraid. None of them had Sunstones in their hands, or anywhere visible, and the guards' swords were still sheathed. There was also no obvious cause of death. No wounds, no burn marks, no other signs of fatal light magic.
”I wonder why he killed them,” muttered Tal as he moved between the bodies, Crow close by his side, both of them with their Sunstones held ready. ”And how.”
A slight movement near one of the doors made them spin nervously, red light flas.h.i.+ng in their Sunstones. One of the guards, propped up against the wall, was not dead after all and she had moved her hand.
Tal recognized her. It was Ethar, a Shadowlord of the Violet and a senior officer of the guard. Her hand twitched again, and Tal realized she was trying to get him to approach.
”Who walks there?” whispered the woman, raising her head a little. Her eyes did not focus on anything. With a start of horror, Tal knew she was blind.
”Tal Graile-Rerem,” he said, stepping over a body to get closer. He was still ready for a sudden attack, but he did not think one would come. At least not from Ethar. Her face was as pallid as the dead Chosen, and he knew she would not live long.
A momentary smile crossed Ethar's lips.
”The Beastmaker boy,” she said, and coughed. With the cough came a froth of bright red blood that bubbled out of the corner of her mouth. ”You played well.”
”Did Sus.h.i.+n do this?” asked Tal. ”Has he gone into the Audience Chamber?”
Ethar did not answer immediately. Her chest heaved, and more blood stained her lips. Then she said, ”Yes and yes. We protested, for all that he was the Dark Vizier and could command us, he had no right to try the doors... He showed us the Violet Keystone and told us to be silent, that he would be Emperor and do as he willed. But even with the Keystone, the a.s.sembly must decide, and we told him... we told him he could not pa.s.s.”
Tal waited as she stopped and drew in a racking breath.
”He blinded us then, with the Keystone, and in the darkness spoke words, words that felled our Spiritshadows in an instant. I felt my Kerukar go, torn away from me, and I almost went with him. But I did not. Duty... it is my duty... You must stop him, Tal, for he should not be Emperor... He must not be...”
”I will stop him, if I can,” said Tal.
”I ask one small boon before you go,” whispered Ethar. ”From one player to another. End this game.”
”What... what do you mean?” asked Tal, but he knew what she meant.
”A Red Ray,” whispered Ethar, her hand crawling across to tap weakly against her heart. ”Here. Do not let me linger.”
Tal raised his Sunstone. Red light swirled inside it, building in intensity. Then a single thin ray snapped out, striking Ethar exactly where she'd indicated. Her body jerked, then slowly subsided down the wall.
Tal wiped his eyes and turned away.
”I never did... I never did kill anyone, you know,” said Crow quietly. ”Not a single Chosen, for all my talk. I couldn't do what you... I couldn't...”
”I couldn't, either,” croaked Tal. ”Before I met the Icecarls, before... before everything.”
Crow was about to say something else, when Adras suddenly reared up and looked down the Grand Parade.
”What is it?” asked Tal. ”Is someone coming?” ”Yes,” said Adras. ”A monster.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
Milla looked at the steps going down, the steps going up, and the narrow pa.s.sageway that led farther on, while Ebbitt hesitated at the intersection, scratching his head.
”Where do we go from here?” asked Milla. ”Think carefully, Ebbitt. I don't want down when it should be up, or left when it should be right. You almost got Graile killed!”
”A failing of mine,” sighed Ebbitt. ”Perhaps if I tied ribbons of different colors to my wrists, I might know left from right. But I am absolutely sure of our whereabouts now and about where we shall go. Though I'm afraid only four of us can travel by steam to the Violet levels. Everyone else will have to take those stairs back down to Red Five. I am sure it will be in Icecarl hands by now.”
”Why only four?” asked Milla. ”And what do you mean to 'travel by steam'?”
”Only four will fit in the envelope,” said Ebbitt. ”Which is propelled upward by steam rising in the aptly named risers. Though the return pipes for the condensed water are not called fallers, which is strange--”
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