Krondor the Betrayal (41 page)

‘‘The Lesser Path is part of the magic, for lack of a better term. The magician links into the very nature of the soil below his feet, or the water that’s everywhere, even in the sky, or the wind itself. The potential for most things to burn fuels the nature of those magicians whose nature is linked to fire. I think a Lesser Path magician might be able to milk some small magic out of this place, but I am powerless.’’

‘‘Would this be true of Pug?’’

‘‘I don’t know,’’ said Owyn. ‘‘He is rumored to be more than Lesser Path or Greater Path.’’ Owyn glanced around. ‘‘But it may also be his powers are diminished enough that he might have been overcome here by others. I do know one thing.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Without Pug we have no chance of returning to Midkemia.’’

They walked on in silence for hours after that.

It was the middle of the next day when they saw the dome.

The heat had reduced them to a slow, plodding walk, and there was no sign of water. The skins at their hips were now empty, and Owyn was starting to feel the effects of dehydration. In silence they moved toward the dome. As they got close they saw it was a structure, made of some sort of hides stretched out over a web of sticks. ‘‘It looks like a yurt,’’

said Gorath.

‘‘What is that?’’

‘‘The nomads of the Thunderhell Steppes use them. They can erect them or take them down in minutes.’’

He pulled his sword and moved around the building until he found the entrance, masked by a single curtain of leather.

He pushed it aside with the point of his sword and when nothing happened, stuck his head inside.

284

KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL

‘‘Come see this,’’ he said to Owyn.

Owyn followed him inside and looked around. The structure was empty, save for a faded cloth that once might have been a rug, upon which Gorath sat. He held out a piece of parchment. It was written upon in charcoal.

Owyn took it and read:

Tomas,

As Katala no doubt sent you word, I imagine you have
heard that Gamina and I are missing. She has been abducted
by the Tsurani magicians who serve Makala and has been
transported here. I will give you more details once we meet,
but I am limited to two pieces of parchment and must be
brief.

Do not depend on Magic here. It does not function. I have
some theories as to why, but again I will save those until
we meet. Its absence may be due to this planet having once
been visited by the Valheru, but your inherited senses may
have alerted you to this fact already. A violent race resides
here, and I have already had to elude four of them. They
appear to be related to the Pantathians, similar enough in
appearance that I judge they were left here by Alma-Lodaka
during the time of the Valheru raids across the skies. Be
wary of them, for I think they serve our enemies, somehow.

Gamina is still missing, and I have made a sweep of the
entire area. I am leaving in the morning to visit the northern
tip of this island. From a hill nearby you can see what appear
to be ruins there. Perhaps there I will find an answer. Look
for me there.

Pug

‘‘Well, that is where we must go next,’’ said Gorath.

‘‘I wish he had said something about water,’’ said Owyn.

‘‘If others live on this island, there will be water somewhere.’’

Owyn nodded, but he didn’t speak his concern, that they might not find it in time.

‘‘At least we know it’s an island, now,’’ said Gorath.

‘‘That’s good.’’

285

Raymond E. Feist

‘‘Why?’’

‘‘Because it means we can’t wander forever,’’ said the dark elf.

Owyn found the humor a little too grim for his taste and said nothing. They trudged on as they climbed a ridge. When they crested the top of the ridge, they could see in the distance the structures Pug had referred to. More, they saw what looked to be a vast blue body of water beyond.

‘‘If we can get to the shore,’’ said Owyn, ‘‘I think I can contrive a way for us to get water without salt.’’

‘‘Perhaps this island exists in a vast lake,’’ said Gorath hopefully.

‘‘That would be welcome.’’

They moved down the ridge, and as they reached the bottom of the ridge, Gorath shouted, ‘‘Water!’’

He almost jumped into a crevice, and said, ‘‘It’s fresh. Hand me your skin.’’

Owyn did so and after a minute, Gorath handed him back the skin, partially filled, so he could drink without waiting any longer. Owyn drank, and Gorath said, ‘‘Slowly. Too fast and you may swoon.’’

Owyn forced the liquid from his lips. It was thick with the taste of minerals and warm, but it was the best water he could remember tasting. He watched as Gorath did the same with his own waterskin, then set it aside and took back Owyn’s.

This time he filled both skins, and said, ‘‘I will mark this place, so if we don’t find another source on our search, we can return here.’’

Owyn nodded, and said, ‘‘We are close to those ruins.’’

Gorath said, ‘‘We should reach there before sundown.’’

They drank their fill, then moved on.

They encountered another yurtlike dwelling, almost buried in the dust, a few hundred yards shy of their goal. They had thought they had seen ruins, but at this distance, they could see seven massive pillars, appearing to be fashioned from stone. Gorath again used his sword to move aside the leather curtain of the hut, and Owyn peeked in.

Inside he found another note:

286

KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL

Tomas,

While I have so far found no evidence of Gamina in the
ruin, I have learned some things about this planet. Magic
has been transformed here; what some magicians call ‘mana’

has been reduced to a crystal form. No natural phenomenon
could account for such a transformation, so I can only assume some agency on the order of the gods did this, as even
the Valheru would only have created a cataclysm by undertaking such a feat. It may be this act inspired Drakin-Korin
to create the Lifestone, but that’s a matter for us to ponder
at our leisure.

I learned much by touching the pillars at the north end of
the island. Avoid the center one; I was ill for days after I
touched it. In my weakened state I was almost overcome by
two of the creatures I mentioned before. Only my skill with
stone and sling saved me, but the conflict taught me much.

I have left an item for you; I do not know if it will help you
with your Valheru-born magic, but I thought it would do no
harm to leave it for you. Perhaps after I have found Gamina,
I will have an opportunity to study more of the wonders on
this world.

Pug

Owyn looked around and saw a long bundle set to the side of the round tent. He unwound another faded rug, identical to the one found in the previous hut, and inside saw what looked to be a staff fashioned of a strange blue crystal. He touched the staff, instantly snatching his hand back.

‘‘What is it?’’ asked Gorath.

‘‘I am not sure,’’ said Owyn. He slowly reached out and touched it again. ‘‘This is amazing,’’ he said.

He held out his right hand while he touched the staff with his left, closed his eyes, and a moment later a glow of light emanated from his fingertips. ‘‘I can’t explain it, but this staff has given me back my powers. It’s as if this staff is made of . . . I don’t know . . . the crystallized mana Pug spoke of.’’

‘‘Bring it,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘We should make for the ruins before we lose the light.’’

*

*

Raymond E. Feist

They stood on the point of the island, a high bluff which overlooked an alien sea. Seven giant pillars of crystal rose up, to seven times a man’s height. Owyn said, ‘‘I’ll start with that one.’’

He went to the pillar farthest to the left and touched it.

Despite a rocky appearance, it felt smooth to the touch. He squinted his eyes and saw he was actually running his fingers over a sheath of energy that clung to the surface of the pillar.

Owyn looked into the pillar, and its many facets refracted images of the desert, sea, and sky, but also he glimpsed other places, as if the pillar showed him different lands, oceans, and skies.

Your observations intrigue me. You are
savani,
are you not?

Startled at the presence of an alien thought in his mind, Owyn shook his head. Unsure if he could simply think his reply, or speak it aloud, he decided speech would keep him focused. ‘‘I am not familiar with the term
savani,
so I don’t know if I’m one or not. With whom am I communicating?’’

Gorath looked at Owyn with surprise on his face. Before Owyn could say anything to him, the voice returned to his mind.
I am Sutakami, Mother of the Thousand Mysteries, once a
goddess of Timirianya. You have awakened me. What do you desire?

‘‘I’m not sure what you are asking me,’’ said Owyn. ‘‘Are you an oracle?’’

No. I may only tell you that which is already known, although I
dimly sense things that may come to be. I sense you are new to
this world. Perhaps you would wish to know of the creatures who
inhabit it.

An image filled Owyn’s mind before he could speak. The race was proud in appearance, like magnificent birds with arms instead of wings. Beaks were small and looked as if they could articulate speech.
These are the Timirian. They were poets
and scholars, and warriors of great skill. They were on the verge of
spanning the stars when the Valheru came. They were obliterated.

Then another figure came into his mind, a shadowy creature of impressive aspect, the very features causing Owyn to flinch.

Although a huge set of wings dominated the figure, it was the eyes of the creature, cold icy orbs of blue, that held Owyn’s attention.
These are the ancient servants of Rlynn Skrr, the last
288

KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL

High Priest of Dhatsavan, our Father of Gods, before the Great Destruction. Creatures of magic they now wander free of fetter, so flee
if you see one, for they may only be killed by a magic designed to
drain their energy into the soil. Now they wander the ancient ruins
of the Temple of Dhatsavan.
The voice faded and grew distant.

I must rest . . . I am needed elsewhere.

‘‘Wait!’’ Owyn put his head down, as if tired. ‘‘I need to ask more.’’

Gorath asked, ‘‘What is it?’’

‘‘These pillars, they’re . . . ancient gods of this world. I was speaking with this one, a goddess named Sutakami.’’

‘‘Perhaps if you touch another?’’ asked Gorath.

Owyn nodded. He moved to the second pillar and touched it. ‘‘I wonder what this place was originally,’’ Owyn asked.

You stand in the ruins of the Temple of Karzeen-Maak, once the
high temple of the seven gods of Timirianya. Once, these columns
were but symbols of the gods, crafted by the savani artisans who
were the servants of Dhatsavan. Now they are the vessels within
which we have taken refuge.

‘‘What could drive a god into refuge?’’ Owyn wondered.

The Valheru,
came the instant reply.
They extinguished life as
we knew it on this world, leaving behind little. Only when Dhatsavan showed us our struggles were futile did we create a plan to rob
the Valheru of power, driving them from our world. They fled lest
they be trapped here, leaving only a few of their servants behind.

‘‘What did you do?’’ asked Owyn.

Of the Seven Who Ruled, only six of us survived the Great Destruction. Two have faded so far from the world they can no longer
give voice to their thoughts; they are now but sentient forces of
nature. Only Dhatsavan will remain, waiting for the time of the
Awakening. He shall call us when the need has come. . . . We shall
not speak again, savani.

Owyn looked at Gorath. ‘‘The Valheru caused this desolation.’’

Gorath said, ‘‘They were a power matched by few. Our legends tell of them spanning the stars on the backs of dragons.

Only the gods were greater.’’

Owyn looked around as the sun began to set. ‘‘Apparently not all the gods. These pillars are what is left of the seven 289

Raymond E. Feist

most important gods of this world. One is dead. Two of them are mute, two I’ve already spoken to.’’

‘‘Pug’s note said to not touch the centermost.’’

‘‘So that leaves one more with whom to speak. Perhaps I can find out what happened to Pug from it.’’

Owyn touched the next pillar, but was greeted only by a faint sensation; nothing of coherent thought. ‘‘This must be one of those who has faded to mindlessness.’’

He walked past the centermost of the seven, heeding Pug’s warning, and went to the next pillar.

He touched it and found it lifeless. Not even the faint sensation he had noticed on the last one remained. He moved on to the next one.

Touching the pillar, still warm from the afternoon sun, he wondered who the Valheru had left behind.

The Panath-Tiandn. They are creatures from another world,
trained to act as artisans of magic. They have limited intelligence, but
they are clever, and dangerous. They created artifacts for the Valheru.

‘‘Did they capture Pug?’’

No, though they thought to, but I prevented it.

‘‘Who are you?’’

We seven were the gods of this world, and I, savani, was once
Dhatsavan, Lord of the Gates. But when the Valheru brought their
wars of desolation, we chose these forms rather than risk the final
death.

‘‘I don’t know the significance of much of what you say,’’

said Owyn. ‘‘I have heard legends of the Valheru on my homeworld—’’

What you know is unimportant,
said the voice in Owyn’s mind.