3 When Darkness Falls.8 (53 page)

A great distance up the narrow path that led to the Black Chamber, Zyperis pressed himself against the wall, shuddering in pain from the echoes of magic. He jerked his head to the side and sunk his fangs into his arm until the blood flowed, but not even that could ease his distress.

He knew what was down here. That was why he had come.

Oh, it was not that he had ever known precisely. But he had known that it was something powerful. Something that his Dearest Mama wished to conceal. Something that required sacrifices, and many of them — he had spies in her household, and even in such a time of plenty as had not been seen in a thousand years, when every Endarkened torture chamber was filled to overflowing and the flesh of slaves graced the tables of even the Lesser Endarkened, the disappearances from Savilla's slave-pens were too great to account for by anything other than the working of great and secret spells.

He had set himself to discover what she was doing.

The capture of a unicorn was a great prize, and he had expected to be invited to witness its torture and destruction. The Mage-men they had taken at Nerendale would be of assistance there — Mama had decreed that they were to be kept alive, and in reasonable health, in case another dragon might be found.

But when the unicorn had not been offered up — and when he had been sent on such a purely
transparent
errand, an entertaining one, but one that any of the nobles of the Court could have as easily accomplished — Zyperis had grown suspicious. What magic could his mother and Queen be working that would involve the death of a unicorn? That her plans neared fruition went without saying, for she could not hope to conceal the creature's disappearance for long.

So he had returned early — disobeying her — and followed her when she slipped away.

He had marked the beginning of the path she took many times, but had never before dared follow her so far along it. Should he be discovered, he would surely be her next sacrifice.

But here the unicorn's magic was his ally, for not only did it mask his own presence, its hateful taint provided a beacon for him to follow.

Never before had he penetrated so deeply into The World Without Sun, and Zyperis had been certain he knew every twist and turn of their vast and beautiful world. Following Savilla, it seemed to him as if he entered another realm entirely — one that promised power, but at a price so high that, even though he did not know what it was, it woke fear in his very bones.

When he heard her speak, he stopped.

And then pain had come. Pain — and terror — and knowledge.

She means to bring He Who Is to walk our world again!

He Who Is would grant them victory over the Children of the Light. His power was unstoppable. The knowledge of Savilla's act should have brought Zyperis great joy.

Except for one thing.

To the one who freed him, He Who Is would grant great favor. Savilla would be Queen of the Endarkened
forever.
 

She would have no successor.

* * * * *

AFTER Jermayan and Idalia had left for Sentarshadeen, Kellen took Vestakia down into the caverns.

This time he took a great many more Knights.

It was not merely that he was concerned about her safety — though Vestakia was an invaluable resource, one they dared not lose — but by now, two days after the battle, the work of refitting Halacira must begin.

Much of the route from the main entrance to the river gallery shimmered with Coldfire now, for the Wildmages had been busy, and they were working quickly to light the lower levels as well. With so many of the side entrances blocked, and soon to be sealed permanently, the cavern air was much more still than it had been when Kellen had first brought his force through here, but Artenel had assured him that there were — or at least had been, before the earthshaking — many ventilation shafts to the surface, and that he would be able to unblock them within a few sennights.

Of course, each ventilation shaft would present a potential method for the Enemy to gain access to the future Fortress, if not in body, then by poisons, or by small Dark-tainted creatures of their breeding. And Goblins needed no door to enter, being able to pass through solid rock at will.

Artenel would simply have to do the best he could to make the place secure. Perhaps there was something Cilarnen could do to help as well.

* * * * *

"I am very tired of caves," Vestakia said wistfully, as they descended the wide stairs into the first cavern.

"You will find that these caves are like no others you have ever seen," Isinwen told her proudly. "It is a shame that their beauty must be destroyed, but Artenel will make them a fine home for those who must live beneath the earth."

Kellen ignored both of them. He was concentrating on the caves themselves. And, if truth be told, he was trying not to think of Vestakia at all.

"I don't feel anything yet," she said, her voice bright with relief.

By now the caverns seemed almost as familiar to Kellen as Sentarshadeen or the Wildwoods had become. He and his Knights swept the entry level, carefully checking all the surviving side-galleries. Vestakia exclaimed in wonder at the wall carvings, though much of the finer detail on some of the reliefs was gone now, having simply crumbled away, and in the
xaique
cavern, many of the delicate carved figures lay upon the floor in pieces.

"No… nothing," Vestakia said, when they stood upon the edge of the bridge, staring down at the Angarussa. Thanks to Wirance and the other Wildmages, the entire roof of the river-gallery glowed a pale azure now, giving it the odd illusion of being the open sky. For the first time, Kellen could see the details of the ceiling; it had been carefully worked to resemble something crafted of stone blocks and wooden beams, though the whole had been carved out of one piece of cavern rock. If he strained his eyes, he could see the individual blocks of stone, the bolts and plates that held the great rough-hewn beams of "wood" together, and even the subtle grain in the wood, just as if these were beams of ancient oak, worn and shrunken by Time.

Elves did nothing by halves.

"We should go down into the mines themselves, then," Kellen said. "Unless you would rather do that tomorrow?"

"No," Vestakia said with certainty. "I would much rather go to bed tonight knowing I never had to come down here again. It is the most beautiful cave I have ever been in… but it is still a cave."

Kellen had only taken a quick tour of the lower levels the previous day, and was grateful he hadn't had to fight down here, for in contrast to the main level, most of the open areas here were about the size of his bedroom back in Sentarshadeen, if that.

Some of them had been carved — apparently with whatever took the fancy of the unknown carver. Others had walls completely smooth, apparently still awaiting the inspiration of unknown hands. In a very few, the wall was rough, and an open vein could be seen within, from which the Coldfire roused faint glitterings, the only proof Kellen had yet come across that Halacira was, indeed, a jewel mine.

Without his Knight-Mage's sense of direction — and the marks he had chalked upon the walls on an earlier visit — he might well have wandered down here forever, for each chamber led into the next with no pattern he could see.

At last they came to an opening in the floor.

Unlike the passage to this level, which had involved a staircase, there was only a wooden ladder leading down through the opening. The ladder was new — Artenel had just built it. The previous one — and Kellen had no doubt one had existed, and perhaps an entire wooden staircase — had been washed away in the flood, as well as whatever machines the Shadowed Elves had assembled.

"This leads to the deep mine," Isinwen said apologetically, indicating the ladder.

"I've been down there," Kellen said. "It's pretty much one big cavern, and as far as I can tell, nothing can get in or out. We don't have Coldlight down there yet, but the ladder's stronger than it looks. Do you think you need to go down, or… ?"

Vestakia looked into the pit, and shuddered. "How large is it?"

"You remember the village cavern at the first Enclave? The one at the bottom of the deep cavern? About that size. Maybe a little bigger."

"Then I should be able to sense anything in it from here."

Nevertheless, she got down on her hands and knees and peered down into the opening, as if she might be able to see something. Kellen shaped a small ball of Coldfire between his hands and sent it drifting past her, down into the cavern below.

Its light gave little illumination. Enough to show that water still lay in pools upon the unfinished rock here, for what Isinwen called the Deep Mine was Halacira as it must have been before the Elves began to improve the caverns. He sent the ball of light swooping and soaring through the darkness as Vestakia concentrated.

"There's nothing," she said at last, sitting back on her heels with a sigh of relief.

* * * * *

NOW that the caverns were cleared and guaranteed to be safe, Kellen could turn his mind to other matters. Providing Vestakia with a suitable escort — since she planned to seek out Shalkan — he went to see Cilarnen.

The young High Mage had recovered both from the effects of his first aerial journey, and from Idalia's cordial. Kellen found him in his tent — one of the largest they had brought with them — unpacking his supplies and clucking over each one as if it were a newly-hatched chick.

"Kellen," he said, in obvious pleasure. "Come to seek out the dreaded High Mage in his sanctum?"

"Come to talk," Kellen said. "Providing we can do so privately."

"That, at least, is simply managed," Cilarnen said. "Though I am afraid more complex spells will take another day at least. It is as I feared: My apparatus has been detuned by the flight, and will all have to be reset. But my Wand, at least, is unscathed."

He opened a long bone case — it had, Kellen suspected, originally been crafted as a scroll-case — and removed his wand. He'd done some work on the slender length of ash since Kellen had seen it last: It was now capped at each end with fine silver, and a narrow spiral of silver wrapped its entire length.

He raised it into the air and began to draw, murmuring under his breath. Glowing sigils, each in a dozen colors, appeared in the air and slowly faded. After he had drawn six of them in a circle around them both, he lowered his wand and replaced it in its case.

"There. No one will heat anything we say — or see our shadows, either. Though anyone who walks through the door of the tent will break the spell."

"No one is likely to do that," Kellen said. Anyone coming to the door of Cilarnen's tent, and not receiving an invitation to enter, would simply go away again.

"Then we may speak privately. A useful spell, though a deal more useful, to my mind, in a place with doors that lock. Tea?"

"Since you offer so nicely." Kellen smiled slightly. Apparently Cilarnen had picked up the Elves' habit of accompanying every occasion with tea. "Cilarnen, do you know why you're here?"

Cilarnen shrugged. "You needed me. We left in such a hurry, nobody had time to tell me anything else, and I was too busy packing to ask. But there's something I must tell you, I think.

"You know that Anigrel meddled with my mind before I was Banished and made sure I escaped the Outlaw Hunt. We'd always wondered why. Well, I found out."

Kellen tensed, ever-so-slightly. Cilarnen seemed oblivious.

"He wanted to find you. He knows you are his greatest enemy — or the greatest enemy of that which he serves. He knew that word would reach you, eventually, of a Banished High Mage,' alive in the Wild Lands, and we would meet. Perhaps he put a compulsion on me to find you, and the Demon raid just helped things along. Or maybe Kardus helped me because for some reason, your Wild Magic wanted it too. In any event, Anigrel left me my magick because he meant me to kill you with it. I think that's the reason my headaches came back so strongly as soon as I saw you."

"Cilarnen, why are you telling me this?" Kellen asked cautiously. His Knight-Mage powers gave him very little shielding against the sort of magical assault a High Mage could wield. On the other hand, he was physically stronger and faster than Cilarnen.

If it came to a fight.

"Because I looked for his tampering in my mind — and found it. He has no hold over me now," Cilarnen said. "Of that I am certain."

Could Kellen believe this? He wanted to. "Both Shalkan and Vestakia pronounced you free of Taint when you arrived," Kellen pointed out.

"And so I was. And so I am," Cilarnen said. "How do you think Anigrel moved undetected among the City Wards for all those years, yet still conspired with…
Them?
Until the very moment the spell saw its best chance of success, and woke into life, I would pass any test you set me. I did not know it myself — but I suspected. How not? Why else would I pass from Anigrel's hands with my Gift intact — unless he foresaw a use for it later?"

Cilarnen's words made sense. And Kellen was inclined to believe him. He would not have mentioned the matter at all — unless he were sure.

"So you are safe from him now?"