Part 8 (1/2)

”Great-uncle Ebbitt!” Tal called and ran over to him, embracing the old man with sudden fervor. ”I am so glad I didn't kill you!”

”Then let go,” replied Ebbitt. ”Before you strangle me to make sure of your botched job.”

Tal laughed and let go. He suddenly felt so much better. Having Milla and Ebbitt with him made the odds so much better for facing Sus.h.i.+n.

”This is the Crone Malen,” said Ebbitt. ”Very interesting person. Could teach you a thing or two.”

”Uh, I'm s-sure,” stammered Tal. He clapped his fists to her, too, and unlike Jarek, she answered, though it was more automatic than heartfelt.

”I know much about you,” said Malen coolly.

”From Milla?” asked Tal.

”No,” said Malen. ”The War-Chief has not the time for speaking tales. I have walked through her mind, with the other Crones. I have seen her memories, seen Aenir through her eyes, and you.”

”Oh, good,” said Tal weakly as he tried to remember how he would have showed up in Milla's memories. Not too well, he suspected.

”Ebbitt, Sus.h.i.+n has the Violet Sunstone,” he said as they hurried after Milla. ”And the Empress and the Light Vizier are dead, and they told me that Sus.h.i.+n is the shadow-p.a.w.n of Sharrakor--”

”Shadow-p.a.w.n? Shadow-p.a.w.n?” exploded Ebbitt. ”They said that?”

”Yes,” replied Tal, surprised by the violence ofthe old man's reaction. ”What does it mean?” ”No idea,” said Ebbitt. ”But it sounds bad.” ”h.e.l.lo, Tal.”

”Oh, h.e.l.lo, Odris,” replied Tal, waving at the Spiritshadow above him.

”Adras says you went back to Aenir and you stuck him in a funny suit and he got eaten by a thing and then when you returned here he got put in a box and after that he had to climb up a really smelly pipe,” said Odris sternly. ”You should be more careful with him. He has a weak const.i.tution.”

”I will be more careful,” said Tal mechanically. Somehow this reunion wasn't going as well as might be expected. ”Ebbitt, do you know how to get into the Violet Tower?”

”I have an inkling or two,” said Ebbitt. He looked down and tugged his crystal breastplate away from his chest, a strange gesture that Tal supposed was meant to be an indication of modesty--or maybe was just a new kind of twitch.

”Lokar is free, by the way,” continued Tal earnestly. ”She's going to try and replace the Red Keystone. She said that it might be able to keep the Veil going for a little while even if the Violet Keystone is unsealed.”

”Lokar is the Guardian of the Red Keystone?” asked Ebbitt, raising one frosty eyebrow. ”Lokar! Whoever will they think of next?”

”But you knew that,” said Tal. ”She's Lector Jarnil's cousin. .--”

His voice trailed off as they reached the doors and he stepped inside for the first time.

Into the Audience Chamber. Into a vast hall, as large or larger than the a.s.sembly of the Chosen he knew down in the colorless midsection of the Castle between Yellow and Green.

The Audience Chamber had a domed ceiling that was bright with thousands of Sunstones around the rim but stretched into darkness at its apex. The floor was tiled in all seven colors of the spectrum, but every eighth tile was a mirror, reflecting the light from the Sunstones that rimmed the dome, so that light flowed and s.h.i.+mmered everywhere, making it very difficult to see anything in the huge room.

Tal s.h.i.+elded his eyes with his arm. He could make out Milla, Jarek, and Crow ahead of him, and there was some sort of construction right in the middle of the chamber, but that was all. He could not see Sus.h.i.+n, or any other doors, stairs, or other exits or entrances. There was no clear way from here to the Seventh Tower.

”Come,” said Ebbitt, seeing the question on his face. ”The answer lies in the throne.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

The lonely structure in the center of the Audience Chamber was the Imperial Throne of the Chosen. Carved from a single rainbow crystal, it was an ornate and enormous chair wide enough to seat three people. The back of it rose ten stretches from the seat, and was finger-thin. Light shone through it as if it were a thick pane of beautiful, multicolored gla.s.s.

A ring of Sunstones was set in the floor around the throne--large, violet Sunstones soldered in place with gold.

”So what is the answer?” asked Tal as they all stood looking at the throne. He also cast a suspicious eye at the ring of Sunstones. They were too big and too purposefully placed to be decorative. They had some function, probably defensive. , They might project heat or flame, or something equally dangerous.

”The way to the Violet Tower,” said Ebbitt, ”lies on the throne. Though only the bearer of the Violet Keystone may use it.”

Tal looked at Milla. He felt ashamed--Milla would never have lost her half of the Keystone to Sus.h.i.+n, and she probably despised him for letting their enemy get such a vital thing.

Milla met his gaze. Then she twisted the Sunstone ring off her finger and threw it to him.

He caught it reflexively, more surprised than he ever had been in his life.

”Milla!” exclaimed Malen. ”What are you doing?”

”Returning the Emperor of the Chosen's Keystone,” said Milla calmly. ”Though I would like your other Sunstone in return, Tal.”

Wordlessly, Tal threw her the Sunstone he had taken from Fashnek. Then he slipped on the half Keystone. It pulsed with sudden Violet, a light that was answered by the ring of stones in the floor.

”Take it back,” said Malen, her voice cool. Her eyes were cloudy, Tal saw. She was communing with the other Crones. ”The stone is the Icecarls' now. Take it back, War-Chief.”

Jarek grunted and started toward Tal, but stopped as Milla raised her hand.

”I do not know how to use it to its fullest strength,” she said, speaking not to the Crone in front of her, but all the other Crones beyond. ”Tal has the power, and the right. What is more important? Squabbles between Icecarls and Chosen, or saving the Veil?”

Malen was silent. Tal could not know what was happening, but Milla did. The Crones were arguing among themselves and needed to vote.

”How exactly does the throne tie in with the way to the Seventh Tower?” whispered Tal to Ebbitt as the silence dragged on.

Ebbitt shrugged. Tal noticed the old man was keeping a wary eye on Jarek.

”Sit on it and we'll both find out,” whispered Ebbitt.

Malen coughed. Everybody stood absolutely still. Jarek's chain slowly unfolded from his hand, link by clanking link.

”Very well, War-Chief,” Malen said in the strange combination voice of the ma.s.sed Crones, her words echoing through the chamber. ”Once more we follow your lead. We have chosen well.”

Trust the Crones to congratulate themselves for giving in, thought Milla.

”Thank you,” Tal said to Milla. ”Ebbitt thinks I should sit on the throne.”

”We should all sit on it,” said Ebbitt, who was peering down at the Sunstones in the floor, then back up at the dome high above them. ”Tal, you go first.”

Tal looked at the Sunstones in the floor, too, and remembered his earlier thoughts. To be on the safe side, he summoned Violet from the Keystone once more, letting it wash all over him. Then he stepped across the ring.