CHAPTER XIX
THE PROPHESY
"How could you let her run off by herself!" Jolan demanded.
I could hear the worry for Palas through his anger.
"I told you, I was asleep. I THINK she cast a spell on me,
but I can't be sure of that. What is important now is that we find
her before we reach land." Jolan nodded, suddenly impatient to start
looking for her. However, we hadn't gone more than five steps from
the captain's quarters when she found us.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Palas was behind us, leaning
against the wall.
"Where have you been?" Jolan yelled, "We were just about
to try to track you down... again!" Palas answered his question,
but she spoke to me, and spoke so casually that it seemed she hadn't
even heard him.
"I've been talking to the ship. She can divide her attention
between talking to me and navigation, so I was never actually alone,
and Firemane needed to sleep." She became suddenly interested in her
feet. "I'm sorry I put you to sleep, Firemane. It was a thoughtless
and mean thing for me to do."
"Yes, it was. Don't ever do it again." I growled, and she seemed
surprised that I sounded angry. Apparently, she'd gotten a little too
used to me extending her extra toleration. "You risk our friendship by
doing things like that. I do not take well to being controlled, under-
stand?" She nodded, looking very dejected. "Good, now, what do you say
we go above? The Nyad's Call has spotted land."
A short while later we gathered on the deck, surveying the coast-
line ahead of us. For the most part the coast was a solid wall of black
rock, broken occasionally by a small patch of gray or brown. The coast
was like that as far as I could see in either direction, and I didn't
see how we were going to disembark. I said so to the captain.
"Oh, don't you worry, lad, there's bound to be a port somewhere.
We'll sail West a good ways, and see what there is to see. Aren't the
cliffs magnificent, though?"
"I suppose so," I answered, not really seeing why he thought so.
I mean, they were impressive and imposing, but they were still just large
piles of rock.
"Don't worry, Firemane, even if we don't find a port soon, I can
get us up the cliffs." Jolan said, "It shouldn't be too hard from this
distance."
As it happened, however, Jolan's assistance was unnecessary. We
sailed around a bend in the coast and found ourselves staring at a city
carved into the cliffs themselves. Now that was an amazing sight. A
row of massive arches supported the weight of the cliff above them, and
I wondered how long it had taken to clear away that much stone. Almost
every building was a solid piece of that same black stone, except for a
large white building at the very back of the city, built into the cliff
wall itself. They had a small harbor at the base of the cliffs, and a
skiff slowly rowed out to meet us. A well dressed and officious looking
fellow sat in the front, with a couple of non-descript fellows rowing
behind him. When he was near enough to our ship, he hailed us.
His words were in Common, but they had a strange inflection to
them. He was understandable, but it was something of an effort.
"Hellu! Where are you from, and what business have you here?"
The captain yelled back his answer.
"We are the Nyad's Call, sailing out of Ortygia, and I carry
passengers to your land."
"You are from outside?" The man called back, sounding very
surprised.
"We are from Eol, yes." The man seemed to consider this for a
moment.
"Well," he finally said, "I suppose you've had better come with
me to the governor's hall. If you are truly from outside--not that I
doubt your word, good sir captain, but visitors from outside are a great
rarity--then the governor will certainly wish to speak with you. If you
could be so kind as to sail for the harbor, then?" The captain agreed,
and we were soon stepping off the ship onto the harbor. It was strange
but welcome after more than a week at sea to feel the ground unmoving
beneath me. The officious looking man from the skiff met us there with
a small escort of armored men, which he referred to as an honor guard.
I presumed that he meant it as such, since he brought far too few to stop
us if we wished to cause trouble. Then again, he didn't know us that well,
so he may have just been underestimating us.
He led us through the streets to the large white building I'd
noticed earlier. The streets were far from deserted, but Diana and I drew
little more than a slightly curious glance or two from the people we passed.
As we neared the building, I saw that it was made from veined white marble,
and there were friezes along the walls and columns of the building, de-
picting scenes both mythical and historical. The artistry was astonishing
in its detail, though chipped and flaking in a few places. Our escort led
us inside through a large set of heavy oak doors, and up into an audience
chamber. There, a somewhat corpulent man, whom I presumed to be the
governor, was seated in a large cushioned chair, with several courtesans
surrounding him. He wore a garment of reddish-brown cloth, draped about
him and held by a large circle of gold at his shoulder, and a medallion
of the blind god Sherehan, god of justice, hung around his neck. The
officious man who'd led us there stepped forward and bowed.
"Lord Artirax, these people arrived claiming to be from outside.
I thought you might be interested in them." The corpulent man, Lord
Artirax, apparently, told him to get to his feet, and spoke with the same
strange inflections.
"By the Fury, Samin, the last thing I need is for you to start
scraping the floor like one of these fools." He gestured to include
several of the men standing around him. "When I need you to bow to me to
know that you still respect me, I'll leave office. Now, you say these
people are from outside? An interesting claim. Such a thing has not
happened in nearly two hundred years."
"I said that these people say they are from outside, m'Lord, not
that they were."
"Yes, yes, I concede the difference. You are too cautious, Samin.
I don't seek to lay blame where it isn't due, unlike some governors. But,
let's not be rude to these people. Come, which of you speaks for the
group?" Jolan looked to the captain and then at the rest of us. The
captain shrugged, and motioned for Jolan to go ahead.
"I suppose that would be me, your lordship."
"You claim to be from outside. While I am not so inclined to doubt
and caution as Samin, here, I am neither a gullible man. You will, perhaps,
forgive me, but I do have reasons for being cautious. You are not the first
to claim this."
"There have been others to enter the Mists?" Jolan asked.
"No, they were proved liars, and I now have a sizable collection of
tongues." Jolan ignored the implied threat.
"How do you wish us to prove that we are from outside?" Jolan asked.
"That should be all too easy," Artirax said, "We will simply deprive
you of the Mists."
"That, I will gladly submit to. We have been plagued with visions
since entering the Mists." The governor's eyebrows raised.
"Indeed. That you know of the effects of the Mists on outsiders is
encouraging. Few here know of the visions it causes at first."
"At first? It ceases to cause visions?"
"After the first year, yes. It is not recorded in our general his-
tories that the Mist was connected to the Year of Madness. It is publicly
believed that the Mist was imposed upon us because of the Year, and not the
other way around." He shook his head, "It seems strange to be explaining
this. These are things that every child knows." At least this once I wasn't
alone in my ignorance. He turned to a nearby courtesan. "Bring in the Fury
Box." He turned back to us. "If you are truly outsiders, as I begin to
think you may be, then I shall need to explain the Fury Box to you. The
Fury Box will filter the Mist from the air around you. As outsiders, you
should have had only a few days exposure to the Mist, and your sickness
will be brief. Upon being deprived of the Mist, you will feel nauseous,
and then angry. For you, he anger should last no more than an hour, and
should be little more than a mild irritation at the world in general. If,
however, you are not an outsider, the Fury will quickly take you, and you
will likely die from that, although if the Fury does not drive you to kill
yourself, you will wither and die from lack of the Mist anyway." The
governor paused. "It is not a good way to die, and it is neither a
pleasant thing to watch, so I give you one last chance to change your mind."
When he saw that Jolan was resolute, he motioned for the Fury Box to be
brought forward.
The Fury Box was a large glass-walled booth, with a strange set of
pumps and tubes sprouting from the top. It looked as though you could
smash your way through the glass easily, but I thought it likely that the
glass would be nearly unbreakable. It was, after all, supposed to hold
people driven mad with anger. They escorted Jolan to the Box, and the
Archmage stood tall, though his steps faltered once or twice and his face
revealed his nervousness. One of the walls of the Box swung open, and
they gently pushed him inside, swinging the glass wall back into place
behind him. The mechanical contrivance at the top of the Box began to
Whir and clatter as soon as the Box was shut, though it had no visible
effect. Be that as it may, I could see beads of sweat breaking out on
Jolan's forehead. I think that having everyone watching him, waiting
for him to show some sign of the Fury, wasn't helping.
It was rather anti-climatic when Lord Artirax told a guard to
let Jolan out a short while later. Jolan stepped out and inhaled deeply.
"That feels much better." He said after a moment. "It was be-
coming a bit stuffy in there."
"Well," the governor said, "It would appear that you weren't
lying after all. Perhaps you are the ones foretold. Well, I believe
that we have two hundred years of history to catch up on. What happens
outside the Mists?"
"Not much that is good, I fear." Jolan said, "Cosan has been
torn in two by war and deceit. Balan the Mad raised an island from the
sea floor, and altered dragons and their kin into human shape to serve him.
Kiaphas, here..." He looked around and realized that Kiaphas was still
asleep aboard the Nyad's Call, "He's not here. Oh, well. They are now
free, and a nation unto themselves. Those who ruled two hundred years ago
grew old, died, and their descendants now rule. If you want anything more
minor than that, I doubt if I can help. It would take much too long to
relate the details of two hundred years worth of history." Lord Artirax
nodded.
"Yes, I see the truth of that. Tell me, then, what business brings
you to Kanda, and to my city of El-Tomar."
"We are seeking the Six Stones, that we might reclaim the Altar
of Unity. Everywhere--outside, at least--evil runs rampant, and we seek
to restore order." Lord Artirax's eyes widened slightly, and I could see
that it was a struggle to keep his surprise from showing too plainly on
his face.
"You are the ones," he whispered, so low that I doubt if any but
I and Diana heard it. Louder, he said, "You must stay the night here, in
El-Tomar, as my guests. No doubt you are eager to fulfill your quest, but
I may be able to help you, if you will allow me the time."
"We would be most grateful for any help you could give, your Lord-
ship." Jolan said. "We would be honored to accept your hospitality." Lord
Artirax smiled.
"Excellent. Chavin, I trust you can find lodgings for them?" One
of the men at his side nodded. "Good. Please, do not hesitate to avail
yourselves of anything you might need. Chavin, if you will?" The man
referred to as Chavin led us away. Samin turned and looked ready to
leave, but Lord Artirax called him back. I didn't get to hear their
conversation, however, as we passed from the audience hall before they
began speaking.
We were given an adjoining set of rooms in the building's--the
governor's manor, I suppose it was--East Wing. When Chavin was gone with
our assurances that we needed nothing more, we gathered again to speak,
now that we were alone.
"Well," Jolan said, "Perhaps for once things will be simple."
"That's what we thought last time," Diana pointed out, "And look
what happened there. No, I think that we're in for our usual dose of mis-
fortune."
"Must you be so negative?" Felin asked, "I mean, there are a few
nice people in the world, at least. Maybe Lord Artirax is one of them."
"I don't mean to be cynical, Felin, but I don't think we should
let our guard down. I think Artirax has an ulterior motive."
"I agree with Diana," I said, "I don't think he's being entirely
open with us. Then again, I can't say I truly blame him if he's holding
something back. I mean, if you were in his position, faced with a group
like ours, would you be tripping over yourself to tell them everything
you know?"
"True," Palas said, "But then, I wouldn't invite us to stay,
either."
"As like as not he did that both because it is the polite thing
to do and to keep us near enough to watch." Jolan answered, "I'm sure
there's more to this than there appears to be, but all we can do is be
alert." We went to our separate rooms to wait for the call to dinner,
which Chavin told us would be in almost an hour. We had four rooms, so
we paired off. Diana and I took a room, naturally, and Palas, as usual,
roomed with Felin. Surprisingly, Marse and Agnon elected to room with
each other, leaving Jolan in the last room by himself. Our room shared
a wall with Jolan's, and that was the wall our bed was against; thus it
was that we heard Palas entering Jolan's room. It was a difficult
decision, but we ended up pulling the bed away from the wall, and we
decided to stretch out on the bed instead of sitting, with our heads to
the foot of the bed. We decided that what Palas wanted to say to Jolan
was her business. Of course, if they started throwing magic around, it
could quickly become our business as well, but we thought that they
deserved a little privacy. When Chavin returned to announce the evening
meal, I noticed that they both seemed happier and much easier around each
other.
We were taken to a large dining hall, which reminded me a bit of
Jolan's, with the name-cards showing where we were to sit. Lord Artirax
sat at the head of the table, naturally, and the places to his left and
right were taken by Jolan and the captain. The meal was, I'm afraid, not
to my tastes at all, but I suppose that was to be expected. Artirax asked
a multitude of questions, and Jolan did his best to answer them, although
some of them were slightly obscure. He asked about me, and about the ship.
He sat, seemingly enraptured, while the captain once again told his tale of
Acquiring the Nyad's Call. I discovered that he had a habit of speaking
very softly to himself, apparently without thinking about it. I was just
the other side of Jolan, and Diana was, much to my displeasure, seated much
farther down the table, so I doubt if anyone else heard him. He muttered
about a lion, and a 'ship that speaks', and something about bathing in
silver and 'gold and silver take their stand'. I couldn't make any sense
of it, but it intrigued me. How could you bathe in silver?
"I mentioned that I might be able to help you," he finally said,
when Jolan had answered as many questions as he could. "You say the Stone
you seek is at the heart and Source of the Mists? The Source is not that
far from here, in one of the northern islands of the Archipelago. If legend
holds true, then it makes sense that the Stone would be there. It is said
That the land there was struck as though by Tur's Hammer, and that was what
brought the Year of Madness. The Mists there are extremely strong, enough
to cause visions even among those who have lived all their lives in the
Mist. I will send with you my best men, but..." He paused for a moment,
"You must promise that if you get the Stone, you will give me the treasure."
"Treasure?" Jolan asked, and I saw that the conversation had sud-
denly caught Agnon's full attention. "What treasure?"
"The treasure of the prophecy, of course!" Lord Artirax yelled,
indignation bringing splotches of red to his fleshy face. "Don't tell me
you don't know! You must know, you are the ones foretold!" He stopped,
and visibly forced himself to calm down. "I'm sorry, I should not have
lost my temper. But you must understand my position. The Empire is gone,
broken, and everyone knows it. Everyone, except, it seems, the Emperor."
I was hoping that he meant a different Emperor from the one we'd met in Ver.
"He pretends that Kanda is still the ruling power in the Nine Realms, and
taxes us accordingly, but there is little that a town founded on trading
can do when there is no way to leave the Mists! Our treasury will soon
be empty, and then I will no longer be able to afford to import grain
for my people and pay the taxes that keep the Emperor's collectors from
bringing a ton of stone down on us. I must have that treasure!"
"We don't know of any treasure, and we don't know of any
prophesy!" Jolan repeated, but Marse stood up, and began speaking in a
clear, yet somehow distant, voice.
"'The Lion rides the Ship That Speaks,
The Child Grown, in silver bathes,
The Twisted Wyrm, his havoc wreaks,
The Golden One, our land he saves.
The Crimson Tooth,
The Hand of Red,
The Half-High Youth,
The Risen Dead.
Then shall StormSinger walk the land,
To challenge deadly Serpent's might.
Gold and Silver make their stand,
When the Mist shall flee the Light.'"
He looked around as though just realizing that he was standing, and
that everyone was watching him. "I'm sorry, that just came to me." He sat
down, and looked as though he wished he could disappear. StormSinger... it
sounded very familiar, though I couldn't say why. "He speaks the prophesy!"
Lord Artirax exclaimed, "Now do you see?"
"I still don't understand what this has to do with us." Jolan said.
"'The Lion rides the Ship That Speaks'." Artirax quoted, "Who else
could that be, if not that one?" He pointed at me, "And what else could be
the Ship That Speaks, except for your Nyad's Call? The Twisted Wyrm the
absent one you called a Draconian. The Half-High Youth... the dwarf. As to
the rest, I don't know, but it doesn't matter. The prophesy twice mentions
gold and silver, and I will have it. In return, I will send my best soldiers
with you, and one of my Advisors who knows much of the Source."
"And if we refuse?" Artirax's face darkened.
"Then prophesy or no, I'll see that you never leave here, and I'll
send my men to the Source without you." I began contemplating Lord
Artirax's imminent demise. I don't take well to being threatened. Jolan
must have seen that I was considering it.
"No, Firemane, it's all right." He turned back to Lord Artirax.
"We could use someone with knowledge of this 'Source', but I doubt if the
good captain would appreciate having to carry your men with us. Perhaps
just your advisor."
"Ah, but I insist!" Lord Artirax said, "To protect both our
interests, shall we say?" Jolan was going to argue, but the captain told
him it was all right. Jolan looked at him as though he'd grown horns, but
let the subject go. Lord Artirax clapped him on the back like an old friend,
and thanked him heartily, ordering more wine for everyone.
We were sent off right after dinner. There were twice as many
soldiers escorting us to the ship than there had been in the 'honor guard'
that had taken us to the governor's manor. We boarded with Lord Artirax's
advisor, a bookish, myopic looking fellow named Vereek, and waited for the
soldiers to file on board. As the first one was about to put his foot on
deck, however, the captain cried out.
"Now!" He called, and the ship began to quake violently. We were
all thrown to the deck, all but the captain, and the boarding soldiers were
flung into the sea. The captain rushed forward and withdrew the gangplank,
and yelled to the ship to sail.
"You needn't shout." The ship said, but she pulled out of port at
full speed as she said it. The captain walked over to where we were re-
covering our feet, and helped Jolan up.
"That," He said, "Is how you repel boarders. Standing orders are
that when I am accompanied by soldiers, she is to wait for my signal and
throw them off, unless I say otherwise beforehand. This isn't the first
time some fool nobleman has tried to force me to carry soldiers, and I
doubt if it will be the last."
"Sorry to have doubted you, old friend." Jolan said, brushing
himself off. He needn't have bothered; the deck of the Nyad's Call was
scrubbed clean until it shined. "Well, then, I suppose we should sail
for the Source?" Vereek was still on the ground. I helped him up.
"Which way is it? Don't worry, we don't want to hurt you, we just objected
to carrying the soldiers."
"N-North. About a day's sail North, to the Siren's Rock, and then
East."
"The Siren's Rock?" the captain asked, looking somewhat worried,
"I've had run-ins with sirens before. Is there another way?"
"Oh, there aren't really any sirens there. It's... It's a rock
that makes noise when the wind blows through it."
"Oh. Then by all means, let's go." The ship turned North.
"I can't believe it." Vereek said when he'd settled down a bit.
"I'm actually part of the prophesy!"
"I don't like this." I said, "I don't believe in fate, or prophesy.
I believe you make your own destiny, and your own luck."
"Well," Jolan said, "It does seem tailor made to us, doesn't it?"
"Is this really the Ship That Speaks?" Vereek asked, and jumped
when the ship answered.
"I can speak, yes." she said, "But I prefer to be called by my name.
I am Nyad's Call."
"Uh-Of course." He stammered, and then hastily added, "My lady."
"What can you tell us about the Source?" Jolan asked him.
Vereek's voice took on a lecturing tone as he answered.
"Well, it is said to be guarded by a monster, but with the Mist so
strong around it, there's no way to know for certain. There is a city
nearby, but the entire island is deserted now, of course. The Source is
in a lake, very near the city. It's strange, but there is no mention of
The city during the Year of Madness, and no mention of a lake existing
before then. In fact, it's been said that the lake was formed when the
island was struck by whatever hit it. It makes sense, I suppose, that if
something hits the ground that hard, it makes a hole, which could then fill
with water. At any rate, there are more legends about the Source than I
could tell before we get there. Some say it is one of the gateways to the
Darkness, and some say you can reach the Light from there. Of course, both
could be true in a very literal way if the guardian is real. There are
stories of people walking into the Source and returning mad, or with
amazing power, or not returning at all. Some say that the Source is a
flaming arrow of the gods, sent to visit punishment on a city of wicked
people, others believe that it was sent by deamons. Some say that the
dead walk there. The line of the prophesy about 'The Risen Dead'
suggests that, anyway."
"Actually," Marse said, "I think that means me."
"You?"
"I died, and came back."
"YOU? You're a... a zombie?" There was a distinct scent of fear
from the advisor.
"No. I'm as alive as you. But I did die. There were strange
circumstances involved, I assure you."
"So you're the Risen Dead, he's the Lion, the dwarf is the Half-High
Youth--I've always suspected that line referred to a dwarf--and the..
Draconian? is the Twisted Wyrm. Who are the others, then?" I looked at
Diana.
"Well, I think Diana might be the Crimson Tooth."
"I am the Hand of Red." Agnon said, from the shadows where he stood.
We stared at him for a moment. "Well, I told you my vision didn't concern
you. I am the Hand of Red."
"Oh, I get it. As in, 'Caught red handed'?" I asked.
"Something like that, yes."
"That leaves the Child Grown, the Golden One, and StormSinger."
Vereek pointed out.
"I think StormSinger might refer to me." I said.
"Then the prophesy mentions you twice? How auspicious." Vereek
said, "That leaves only the Golden One and the Child Grown." I could see
Palas getting a little nervous. I guessed that whatever she and Jolan had
talked about, she hadn't told him her secret.
"It's all academic, anyway." I said, "I think we know the prophesy
is about us, so perhaps we should concentrate on the parts that are more
important. Like the last lines."
"Yes, 'Then shall StormSinger walk the land, To challenge deadly
Serpent's might.' Most auspicious, indeed. Perhaps the monster of legend
Is some sort of dragon." Jolan suddenly slapped his hand to his forehead.
"Kiaphas! I forgot all about him! Come on!" He hurried back down
to the captain's quarters. When we arrived at the captain's quarters, we
found Kiaphas gone. Even the chair he'd been in was missing. I realized
that we now had a crazed draconian running around the ship, one who'd tried
to kill Jolan once already. The line from the prophesy ran through my mind.
'The Twisted Wyrm, his havoc wreaks' I angrily shook my head, reminding
myself forcefully that I don't believe in prophesy. The fact remained,
however, that Kiaphas was loose, and havoc was a good name for what he
could do.
"Nyad's Call, can you find Kiaphas?" I asked.
"Well, not exactly."
"Not exactly?" I repeated, "What do you mean?"
"Well, I should be able to, but it doesn't seem like he's aboard.
But I didn't see him leave, either, so he has to be here somewhere."
"Could he have left while your attention was elsewhere?"
"I suppose so, but the only time I wasn't watching was when I got rid
of those soldiers. Do you think he could have escaped in that time?"
"I don't know, he..." I broke off as I was hit from behind. I hit
the ground, and a shadow fell over me. I rolled over, and a wyvern was
standing behind me, a Bery much smaller-than-normal wyvern, but a wyvern
just the same. The wyvern looked at Jolan, and it's maw opened and its
tongue whipped about. It had Kiaphas's amulet around it's neck. The amulet
that permitted a full transformation. 'The Twisted Wyrm, his havoc wreaks'
Gods, but I wished I could get that out of my head.
"Kiaphas," Jolan began, "Kiaphas, I don't know what you saw before,
but it wasn't real. We're in the Mists, and you've had a vision.
Kiaphas!" This last was yelled as the wyvern--I refused to think of it as
Kiaphas--lunged forward. Jolan barely moved quickly enough to get out of
the way, and the wyvern's head plunged into the wall and came up spitting
wood. The ship screamed in pain as the wyvern smashed her planks. I was
surprised to see a thick, sticky sap flowing from the hole. Jolan had the
wyvern's full attention, and I leapt onto its back, trying to hold onto its
whipping neck.
The wyvern bellowed in frustration, and did something entirely un-
expected. It thrust itself through the ceiling, drawing another scream and
more sticky sap. The wyvern pulled itself out into the open air, and began
to grow. I tried to grab the amulet, to tear it off, but the wyvern got rid
of me by knocking me against the mast. I lost my grip on its neck and began
to fall. My powers saved my life, slowing me enough that the impact didn't
kill me, though hitting the deck still hurt quite a bit. I looked up to see
the wyvern flying off--to the North-East. Toward the Source. It figured.
as I lost consciousness, the prophesy danced through my mind. 'The Twisted
wyrm, his havoc wreaks.' 'Then shall StormSinger walk the land, To
challenge deadly Serpent's might.' 'Ser-Chup', I thought dazedly, my vision
darkening, 'I am Ser-Chup'.
I woke back in my cabin, with Diana next to me. I was sure even my
fur must be bruised.
"You've been out for most of the day." Diana said when she saw that
I was awake, "We're nearing the Siren's Rock, according to Vereek."
"And Kiaphas? Did he go mad and fly off, or did I dream that?"
"I'm afraid that happened."
"I was hoping that I'd managed to knock myself silly and dreamed
the whole thing." I sighed, "Oh, well, no help for that now, I suppose.
What could he have seen?"
"I don't know, but whatever it was, he doesn't like Jolan much
anymore. I wonder why he left."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he seemed pretty single-minded about killing Jolan before,
but then he flew off, after he'd managed to shake you off. Why would he
leave when he was still winning?"
"I don't know. Maybe he's not completely crazy. I just don't
know." Diana was going to say something further, but was interrupted by
a thin, high-pitched wailing. We'd reached the Siren's Rock. Diana and
I hurried up to join the others, though I found myself limping a little.
Everyone was gathered together staring at a large finger of stone
jutting out of the sea. It looked to be solid, but Vereek assured me that
it was riddled with small holes. He explained that the sound the Rock made
was produced by the wind whistling through the holes, much like a flute or
a horn. The exact sound it made depended on which direction the wind came
from and the strength of the wind. Even as he explained it, the wind rose
and the Siren's Rock gave it's strange cry again. The captain cleared his
throat loudly in the silence that followed, and we all jumped, startled.
"This is all very fascinating, but I think we have other business,
don't we?" he said, when we all turned to stare at him.
"Quite right," Jolan said, "Goodman Vereek, the way is East, is it
not?" Vereek nodded, and the captain ordered the change of direction. The
ship turned immediately, and the Siren's Rock slowly fell behind us.
"Speaking of having other business, captain, I think there are wounds that
need tending, aren't there?" The captain nodded, and I began to protest
that I would be fine, but I soon saw that they weren't speaking of me. The
captain led us back to his quarters.
The holes that Kiaphas made were still there, but now the thick sap
that had flowed from them had congealed into an amber, scab-like material.
These, apparently, were the wounds Jolan meant. Jolan examined the holes,
and nodded.
"Yes, I'm sure she'll be fine, captain. These wounds will take some
time to heal, of course, but I don't see where there should be any danger to
the Nyad's Call."
"If you don't mind, Wizard, I'd like to take a look myself." Marse
said, still looking a bit pale and somewhat green. "I doubt if healing is
your strongest talent."
"Of course." Jolan backed away, seeming only slightly miffed at
having his judgment questioned. Marse studied the crusted holes, and,
before anyone could stop him, began trying to chip away the amber. "What
are you doing?" Jolan asked, "Are you trying to give her an infection, you
fool?" Marse just looked at him, silently, but Jolan refused to be
intimidated.
"I can help the wound heal faster, but the amber is in the way.
In fact, if you're not careful of that wound, it could just heal as it is
instead of growing back. Correcting it then will be much more difficult
for me, and a lot more painful for the ship. Now if you would be so kind
as to help me chip this amber away, I'll get started." Felin drew her ax
and began using it to gently scrape away the amber, while I did the same
with my claws. Diana and Palas set to work on the hole in the ceiling,
while Jolan just sat back and watched. When the amber was pulled away,
and the sap underneath began flowing again, Marse put his hands on either
side of the hole and began the healing. The soft white light surrounding
him began to seep into the ship, and as we watched the wound began to close,
the planks visibly growing back. When he was done, the hole was gone, as
though it had never been there, and only a sense of tenderness from the
area distinguished it from the rest of the ship. The cleric looked
exhausted. "That was harder than I expected. It may be some time before
I can manage the other hole."
"Don't bother," Jolan said, standing, "You aren't the only one who
can heal." He stood beneath the hold and copied Marse's position, an
attempt at mockery, I think. What he did looked much the same, but it had
a different feeling to it, with the golden glow around him passing into
the ceiling and the hole slowly closing itself. Jolan's choice of
positions could have been better, however, as the freely flowing sap
dripped all over him. He seemed to waver, toward the end, as though
it was taking too much from him, but Palas and I moved at the same time
to lend him support, and with my blue glow bolstering him on one side and
her gray on the other, he finished the healing perfectly. Healing is a
bit more difficult when you don't have the energy of a goddess to rely on.
"There, you see?" He said, out of breath, "Nothing that couldn't be handled."
I refrained from pointing out that at the end there had been three
of us healing the ship to Marse's one, because I don't think Jolan would
have appreciated it. Then again, the hole in the ceiling had been somewhat
larger. Marse also chose to let it pass. There was something bothering me,
like I'd just seen something important but didn't know why it was important.
I had the rest of the trip to think on it, but the matter refused to resolve
itself. That night, after dinner, we discussed what we would do when we
reached the island.
"We should have no trouble finding a port," Vereek said, "There used
to be a village on the coast, with a harbor. I think we should pass within
sight of it, and if we don't, we still won't be far from it. From there,
by most accounts, the city of Nadair Shadai should be almost a day's walk,
or half a day's ride, if we had horses."
"We don't, so it would be a day's walk, wouldn't it?" Agnon said,
and I didn't have to look to tell that his lip was curled into a sneer.
"Nadair Shadai?" I asked, "That's an odd sounding name."
"It's a dwarven name, and not the original name of the city, but it
is the only name recorded. It means 'Shadows Walking'. It became known as
that because of an unfortunate dwarf, who went to his death repeating those
words. It was all anyone could get him to say."
"I was thinking that we might camp first in the village you men-
tioned, and then at the city," Jolan said, "but somehow that doesn't seem
like a wise decision anymore."
"It wouldn't be too much trouble to go around the city, I think,"
Vereek said, "The Lake of the Source lies not far on the other side." Jolan
agreed that it would probably be better to do that. The captain informed
us that, whatever we decided, he'd remain on the Nyad's Call.
"Land-bound troubles for land-bound people, I say. I'll stay with my
lady, sirs." I didn't blame him.
"I think I will retire to my cabin." Jolan suddenly announced, "I
am a bit tired from casting the healing, and I want to be well rested when
we arrive at the Source." He left, looking every bit as tired as he said
he was.
"Serves him right for showing off." I said, but I said it quietly,
little more than a low growl. I looked at Palas, and I though perhaps I
understood why he'd been showing off. I wondered what had passed between
them back in El-Tomar. Yet another thing to work at the back of my mind.
I brought up something else that was bothering me. "Why haven't any of us
had any more visions? Artirax said..."
"Lord Artirax!" Vereek said, sounding very indignant but looking
surprised with himself that he'd spoken back to me. Perhaps the little
scholar had more spine than I'd thought. I gave him my best attempt at a
smile, knowing what it looked like. He turned pale, and I suddenly felt
angry at myself for frightening him. It reminded me too much of my
hallucinatory alter-ego.
"Very well, Lord Artirax." I said, and there was no missing the
sarcastic emphasis I put on the title. "He said that the visions stopped
after a year. We've been here less than a week, and we've only had one
bout of visions, unless everyone's been having them and not saying
anything." They all shook their heads. "I'm not complaining, mind you,
the visions we have had were bad enough, but as often as not what seemed
like good fortune for us has turned out to be dangerous. I just like
having a logical reason for things."
"You're right," Marse said, nodding, "It is strange that the visions
stopped, but I can't imagine why they did. Or maybe they didn't. Maybe
there are more of them to be faced." That was not a pleasant thought.
About noon of the second day we sighted the village. It looked
completely deserted, just as Vereek had said it would be, and many of the
buildings had sagging roofs and crumbling walls. I wondered if the harbor
would be safe to stand on, or if the rotten timbers would crack beneath our
weight. I remembered the weak limb that had snapped under me when we'd
snuck into Shaloc's camp, and the sickening feeling I had as I fell. It
was not an experience I wished to repeat. Looking back, I wondered why
my latent powers hadn't softened my landing, as they had twice since.
Perhaps they were becoming easier to evoke. The Nyad's Call pulled into
port a short while later, and the captain watched us disembark. Despite my
worries, the wood held well enough.
"You'd blasted-well better come back alive." The captain told us
gruffly, "I charge twice as much for carrying corpses, you know." We looked
at him. "I like a little conversation from my passengers." I think he was
joking. Sometimes I have a hard time telling the difference.
The village had a bad feeling to it, the sort of feeling that makes
your fur stand on end. Everyone noticed it, except, of course, for Felin.
She wanted to explore the village, of all things. She defended her idea
by saying that there could by anything hidden in the village, and it would
be better to find something dangerous than to have it find us.
"So you mean you want to go looking for trouble?" I asked her. She
muttered something like "not when you put it that way", and we quickly left
the village. We hoped that with luck we could find somewhere to camp
between the village and Nadair Shadai. The uncomfortable feeling didn't
decrease when we left the village; quite the opposite. It felt like the
ground itself was going to try and swallow us at any moment. The feeling
an insect might have, if a boot was hovering over it, waiting to drop.
We found a decent campsite just as the sky was growing dark.
Vereek had told us to bring along full water-skins, and we drank from
those, though there was a stream nearby. The scholar said he didn't trust
the water, and none of us argued. There was very little we did trust about
the island. We ate quietly, attempts at conversation squelched by the
oppressive feeling in the air. We intended to start again as soon as the
sun rose in the morning, so we set a watch and went to sleep. We decided
that it would probably still be wise to have two people on watch at any
given time, so we divided the watch into four shifts. Diana and I were
given the third shift, while the scholar and the cleric took the first.
Vereek was already engaged in a discussion of ancient history with Marse
when I fell asleep.
I opened my eyes, and I knew that I was dreaming right away. I
wasn't at the camp anymore, but back at Jolan's tower, in the new library.
Palas was there, and she handed me a book off the shelf. I looked down at
it. The title of it was 'What Was'. I looked back at Palas.
"It is the first of the trilogy. The third is the most interesting,
of course, but the hardest to understand."
"I don't understand."
"Few ever do understand. Most think that one or the other holds all
the answers. They hold every answer, but none of the questions."
"I still don't understand."
"Prophesy is a reading of what can be, not what must always be.
For every prophesy that is fulfilled, there are a thousand that are not."
She gestured to the book in my hand. "Some say that the book you hold is
the key to understanding the two that come after it. The past is fixed
and ordered, and the future is chaotic. Now is always somewhere in-
between."
"But how could someone tell that I would come to Kanda aboard the
Nyad's Call? What other meaning could there be for that line?"
"Often there are many ways a prophesy can be fulfilled." She
pointed to the wall, and I saw a picture of a tree. "The past is the
trunk, solid and singular. But in the present, there is always the pos-
sibility of change, always random chance and conscious decision, and the
trunk branches. In the future there are an infinity of such chances,
such decisions, and the branches divide themselves, until they become so
fine as to be unseen."
"What does this have to do with the prophesy?"
"Few can say for certain how the tree will branch, but some say
that if you know how the trunk grows, you will begin to see where the tree
could branch, and you begin to see how you can make it branch a certain way."
"My destiny is of my making, and none other's!" I said. Palas
nodded.
"That is true. But you are now Ser-Chup, the StormSinger, as you
always have been."
"Ser-Chup. That sounds so familiar. Where did you hear it?" She
handed me another, smaller book. The cloth cover had a lion stitched onto
it, and the title was 'The Songs Of StormSinger'.
"This is but a chapter in the greater history, but you may find it
interesting." I opened the book.
"Get up!" Marse yelled, "We're surrounded." I jumped to my feet,
one part of my mind wondering why it was that I almost never got to finish
any of my more interesting dreams. I saw that the Mist had become much
more dense, so that it seemed our campsite was an island surrounded by a
sea of gray. Jolan and Palas had conjured balls of light, and there were
things moving in the mist, visible only as dark, indistinct shapes.
Everyone had snapped to readiness at Marse's call. Felin was on her feet
with her ax in hand so quickly that I suspected she'd slept with it next
to her. The shadows in the fog closed in around us, and we pulled together
into a defensive circle. Jolan and Palas began readying their spells, and
everyone but Vereek looked ready to fight. We positioned the scholar in
the center of our circle where he could be protected.
"There are too many of them!" Agnon hissed. It was true. The
slow moving shadows around us suggested that an army surrounded us.
"Then there'll be a few less when we're done!" I said, managing to
make it sound more confident than I felt. The first of them stepped from
the Mist, and I saw that Vereek had been right after all. There were
undead on the island. Zombies, ghouls, ghosts, and shades stumbled into
view. In most cases, they would be many times worse than living opponents,
but in a way it was good for us. I almost thought I saw Marse smile when
he saw what we faced.
"Undeads," he spat, as though the word left a bad taste in his mouth.
He raised his hands and began channeling holy power. The medallion around
his neck seemed to float, and a single shining ray of light pierced the
Mists from above with a crack like thunder. The light struck the medallion,
and the guilded sunburst flared and shone like the sun itself, and a great
cone of blinding light burst forth from between his arms. The walking dead
dissolved into dust as the light struck, and Marse turned, swinging the
light around to face another set of undead, and another, until the Mist
around us was empty of shambling corpses. Marse nearly crushed Felin as
he fell, the ray of light abruptly gone. "It's so much harder to call the
power here." He said, his voice weak, "There are more out there.
Thousands more."
"Well, you've bought us a moment's reprieve, at least." I said, "The
question is, how do we use it?"
"The way is clear to the East." Felin announced, after Marse got
off of her. "I can make out something that way, but it isn't moving, and
it's huge. Maybe some sort of cover, something more easily defended." I'd
forgotten about her dwarven eyesight.
"Maybe a trap." Agnon sneered.
"You would like to stay here, then?" Diana asked, and Agnon angrily
shook his head. "I thought not. Well, do we go East, then?" Everyone
nodded, and we set off at a run. Lesser undead, such as those we had seen,
don't move very fast, having little animation or volition, so the dark
shapes around us were just reappearing when the object Felin had seen came
into view. It was a wall. The wall surrounding the city.
Nadair Shadai, the place called Shadows Walking.
(
geocities.com/timessquare)