Scanned by Highroller.

  Proofed more or less by Highroller.

  Made prettier by use of EBook Design Group Stylesheet.



       Golden Trillium by
         Andre Norton
                             Prologue

   THERE WERE THREE OF THEM, DAUGHTERS of the Black Trillium.
In their full womanhood, they were to be Haramis, the Sorceress; Kadiya,
the Seeker-Warrior; and Anigel, the Queen. At one birth they came into
the world (which in itself was a strange and unknown thing) and at the
moment of their birthing the Archimage Binah, she who was rumored to
be the full Guardian of all the land, hailed and named them.

   They were, she prophesied, to be the hope and saviors of their people.
She bestowed upon each an amulet of amber in which was set a tiny
floweret of the legendary Black Trillium, which was both the sign of their
royal clan and of the land.

    Their country of Ruwenda, though for long generations it had been
home to humankind, still held many secrets. A large part was swamp, out
of which rose some islands of firm ground. On many of these were ruins,
some large enough to be the graveyards of full cities. The King lived in the
Citadel, yet another of these remainders of an earlier day, save that it was
still whole.

   To the east, humankind drained the swamp, creating polders, which
made rich farmland and offered fine grazing for herds and flocks.
Ruwenda also served as the major way station for the import of timber
from the south, which was needed greatly by their neighbors of Labornok
to the north. Other trade wares came out of the swamps themselves:
herbs, spices, the scaled shells of water creatures—some as bright as
jewels, some so tough they could be fashioned into waterproof scale
armor. And most rare of all came things—many so strange they could not
be identified—which were found in the ruins on the islands.

   The gatherers of these were called Oddlings—the swamp dwellers whom
the Ruwendians had found upon their own first arrival and with whom
they had no quarrels. Neither wanted what the other desired in the way of
territory. Of these Oddlings there were two races—the Nyssomu who were
more forthcoming, some taking service even in the King's Citadel, and the
Uisgu, shy outdwellers whose chosen land lay farther west in the
unexplored swamps. What the Uisgu had to trade they brought to the
Nyssomu, who in turn offered it to licensed traders. All generally gathered
in the large ruined city known to men as Trevista, which outlanders could
reach easily by river.

   There was another race within the mires, claiming as their own the
more western reaches of the north, and those none would willingly meet.
Drowners, the Oddlings called them; Skritek, the learned named them.
They were torturers and slayers, and an evil blight. At times they raided
the polders or sought prey among the Oddlings, and nothing good was
known of their saurian kind.

   There was peace in Ruwenda—save for such raids as these—during the
childhood of the three Princesses. Men were unaware that a storm was
building in the north.

   The King of Labomok was old and had occupied the throne for almost
the lifetime of many of his people. His heir. Prince Voltrik, was soured
with waiting. He spent much time overseas, where he learned different
ways and made allies—including the great sorcerer Orogastus. When the
Prince returned home, this man of magic was his close companion. When
Voltrik did at last assume the crown, Orogastus became his first advisor.

   Voltrik coveted Ruwenda—not for its swamps, but for its control of the
lumber trade and for the treasure rumored to be found in the ruined
places. Once safely settled on the throne, he struck.

   The mountain forts guarding the only pass were blasted into
nothingness by lightnings called down by Orogastus's magic. Then, guided
by a traitorous merchant and with the swiftness of a snake's strike, the
Labornoki took the great Citadel itself.
    King Krain and those of his lords who survived that battle died horribly
at Voltrik's orders. His Queen fell under the swords of those pledged to kill
all the royal women, for there was a prophecy that only through them
could the invaders be conquered in turn. The three Princesses escaped,
each with the aid of her birth talisman—but they did not go together.

   Haramis was carried by the witchery of Binah (now old and failing, else
no Labornoki would have won foothold in the land) upon the back of a
great lammergeier flying northward. Kadiya, with the aid of an Oddling
hunter long her tutor in swamp ways, took to the swamps through an
ancient passage. And Anigel, with her Uisgu mentor, the old herbmistress
Immu, escaped under cover of the transports of the enemy to the watery
city of Trevista.

   Each Princess in turn made her way to the Archimage at Noth, and
each was set under a geas to discover a portion of a great magical weapon
which would free the land.

   Their trials were many. Haramis, in the mountain lands, was tracked
by Orogastus. He skillfully wooed her, first out of policy and then because
he believed he saw in her a fit companion for his own gathering of power.
But he was unable to obtain the silver wand that was Haramis's talisman.

    Kadiya was led to the lost city of the Vanished Ones and there took up
the sword which grew from the stalk of the Black Trillium which had led
her there. Anigel, fleeing southward with the aid of the Uisgu, came to the
forests of Tassaleyo, where she plucked a crown from the maw of a
life-devouring plant. There also she met the Prince Antar, son of Voltrik,
sent to bring her back prisoner but already so revolted by the excesses of
his father and fearful of the growing power of Orogastus, he would not
fulfill his orders, but rather became Anigel's sworn defender.

   Kadiya, leading her gathering army of both Uisgu and Nyssomu, joined
with Anigel to storm the Citadel. It was Haramis who brought to an end
the life and power of Orogastus, by uniting the three talismans into one
great and overpowering magical focus.

   Haramis refused the crown which was hers by right of first birth,
choosing rather to follow Binah as the Archimage, when the dying
sorceress left her cloak of guardianship. Kadiya also put aside her
heirship, for there were secrets in the swamplands which called to her,
and she knew in her heart that crown and throne were not for her.
   Anigel wedded with Antar and joined the two once-enemy lands. As
Queen and King of Laboruwenda, both swore they would rule as one and
hold the peace.

   Haramis departed for the northern mountains and the knowledge
stored there which drew her heart as no living thing might do. Before she
went she sundered again the three talismans, taking with her the wand.
The crown Anigel set within her own as part of her heirship. Kadiya again
took up her sword, the point of which was missing, the pommel of which
could unlid into three force-shooting eyes—one the color of her own, one
that of an Oddling, and the topmost a brilliant one which had no bodily
counterpart.

   Kadiya joined her Oddling army and went swampward just at the
beginning of the monsoon. She did not know what she truly sought, only
that she must seek it.

                        Chapter One

   RAIN LASHED THE SWAMP. THE WATERWAYS flooded, roiled with
mud, carried burdens of uprooted trees and brush. Vines writhed in the
water like serpents, and true serpents were belly up and tangled fatally
among reeds. Some of the monstrous growth swirled out making
temporary traps to catch flotsam, to the danger of any craft daring to
attempt upstream travel. The pounding of wind deafened all sound except
the roar of rain and water.

   Yet there was travel against all odds. Even as much as those who knew
the swamp feared their world gone wild, this one season they had dared it.
An army had come out of the mires: clans had drawn to clans, peoples to
peoples.

   There had been such a battle as even the ancient songs had never
pictured. Evil had struck with a power of fire and sorcery beyond
knowledge, and had gone down to a defeat of charred ashes. Now those
who dared the streams and rivers felt only an overpowering need to turn
their backs upon that battlefield, to withdraw into their own places.
Victory had been theirs, yet the shadow of what had happened was like the
storm clouds above.
    Their number shrank constantly during the journey. This force and that
took to side ways, peeling away to seek out their home islets or the lake
villages of the clans. The Nyssomu went early since their holdings lay the
closest. Their distant cousins, the Uisgu, rode in shallow skiffs drawn by
those who were both fighting comrades and aides—the water-dwelling
rimoriks, even their great strength taxed by the fury of the waters. They
disappeared more and more into half concealed tributaries which led to
their fortresses, still unknown to those not of their kind save a few far
venturers, none welcomed.

   Though the fast diminishing army fought hard to leave the past behind
them, there were gruesome reminders of what horror had held sway here.
Trussed in one patch of mud burdened reeds were the remains of a
human, one of the ill-fated invasion force.

   The girl, swinging her paddle violently in one of the foremost skiffs,
looked away hurriedly. Some Skritek had feasted there—satisfied the
abominable hunger of his kind upon the flesh of his one-time ally.

   Skriteks—many now must be on the run before the storm fury. They
knew only too well what would happen to any of their kind who had
survived the defeat of the invaders within reach of the victors.

   The small party left had pushed on now into the Thorny Hell, a place of
dread in which the innermost heart of fear seemed trapped in the tangle
of thorn-sprouting growth. A sense of peril appeared to cling in leprous
patches to the trunks of dead trees. Those who ventured here because it
was the straightest path to their destination did not attempt to see beyond
the bristling curtain which walled the river on either hand.

   The rain formed shrouds across the open water which shut out much of
the view ahead. Bowed head and hunched shoulders could not help.
Kadiya— who had once been a Princess housed in all the soft life known to
her kind— endured, even as she endured the weight of the sheathed
weapon which dug against her ribs when she swung to the paddle's need.
The same stubbornness which had brought her an army held. Kadiya
could not and would not turn aside with any of those who continued to
urge her to shelter with them. Nor could she have remained at the Citadel,
now cleansed of the evil which had struck down those of her house.
Payment had been taken. However, she was not yet free…

  Once more that weight resting upon her was greater than all that the
storm could hurl at her, stronger than any floating trap she and her
companions fought their way through.

    Why did she feel this driving urge, this pressure which was sometimes
close to frantic? She felt she was being moved by a will which was not her
own. The first time she had fled there had been red death, fire, the end of
all the life she had known. Now… now what drove her?

   Drive it did—through the very maw of the storm. Islets on which they
tried to camp were only sinks of mud and water-heavy brush. There was
no real shelter. Sleep was only a temporary end to an exhaustion that left
the body one great ache. Still each time she roused she was quick to settle
once more into hazardous traveling.

   At least the storm kept their drenched world free of some dangers. No
voor cruised above, no scale-armored xanna arose from murky paths with
sucker-encrusted limbs to threaten them. Those plants which had their
own vicious weapons were curled in upon themselves to outwait the floods.

  On the seventh day they came to the end of the river road. Now there
was only their single craft left to nose the sticky mud of the bank. At least
here the thorns did not repel.

   Kadiya threw her pack ahead to a mound of earth which looked stable
enough to hold it. Reaching out for a trailing vine, she used it to drag
herself ashore. Then she turned to face those who had accompanied her
without complaint and wearily raised one hand in salute.

   Many things had changed in the days just past, but old Oaths were still
honored. No matter how valorous they had been in a battle which had
wrenched their world out of the hands of the Dark, no man or woman of
the Oddlings would venture beyond this landing into a long-forbidden
land— none except Jagun, the huntsman who had taught her the swamp
ways and was now swinging ashore in her water-tilling tracks. Oathed
against this he had been, but that Oath was lifted by her own belief and
act.

   Yet those others watching her now, their great yellow-green eyes
unblinking as if those very stares would hold her. were plainly loath to let
her go.

  "Light-bearer." One of the two women warriors raised her hand in
entreaty. "Come with us. You have carried our hope." For a moment her
eyes sought the heavy burden at Kadiya's belt. "There is peace—the peace
which we have won. Let us shelter you. Seek not this place which is not to
be seen…"

  The girl pushed back a sodden string of hair dangling from under her
xanna-bone helm. She found that she still had the power to summon a
smile.

   "Joscata, this has been laid upon me." Her hand went to the bulbous
hilt of that talisman which was also a sword. "It would seem that I cannot
rest until I have fulfilled yet another duty. Let me but do this and I
promise I shall return with a full heart to you all—for such comradeship I
wish more than all else in the world. The choice is not yet mine to make. I
have something still to do."

  The Nyssomu looked beyond the girl's shoulder to the drenched land.
On her face there was a shadow which might have been set by fear.

   "May all good go with you, Farseer. Firm be the land for your footing,
clear the path to where you must trod."

   "Swift be your boats, comrades," Kadiya replied as she hoisted her pack
to her shoulders, "quick the way. If fortune wills I shall see you again."

    Jafen, war speaker of the clan who had brought them here, still held the
tie rope. "Lady of the Sword, remember the signal. There will be always a
watcher. When you have done what you must do…"

   Slowly Kadiya shook her head, then blinked her eyes against the stream
of water the gesture dislodged from her helm. "War Captain, do not expect
a quick return. In all truth I do not know what lies before me now. When I
am free, then surely I shall seek out those whose spears were a wall against
the Dark."

   Memory struck for a moment. It was as though not a Nyssomu faced
her but that awesome figure she had seen but once before, who had come
to her when she had been a hunted fugitive with despair nipping at her
heels. And because of the courage born from that meeting with the
mysterious presence in the garden of the lost city, she now felt the flash of
memory as a spur, urging her on.
   The five left behind did not push off but held their craft steady as long
as she and Jagun were in sight.

  Luckily the mud slime in which one could not find steady footing did
not last. There were sometimes pools across their path that Jagun
depth-tested with the butt of his spear. Their pace was necessarily slow
and the way was long.

   There was little shelter. Game was scarce and the provisions which
made up the larger part of their packs were fast disappearing despite all
their care. There came the time when they went without food for the night
and were no better off in the morning. However, under that gray sky the
rain had mercifully slackened, and Kadiya at last caught sight of the
huddle of ruins ahead.

  It was the Place of Learning—the stronghold of the Sindona, the
Vanished Ones. She paused. Would the old magic touch her once she
passed through that broken semblance of a gate? She began to splash
toward it—then remembering, she glanced back.

  "Jagun?"

   His face was set as if he were battle ready, yet he was following. Looking
to neither side, he marched as one does to a danger which must be faced.
The age-old Oath put upon his people: even though she had loosened it for
him when they journeyed this way before, did it burden him still?

   He did not answer but he came on. There was a great burst of wind
driven rain, as if the monsoon itself would bar their passage at this last
moment. Then they stumbled forward, through the wreckage of the gate,
falling to their knees from a last blow of the wind.

   But… the beat of the storm was gone! They might have passed under a
roof, though the sky was open over them. In the air hung a heavy
moisture, more like a morning fog. While before them—

   No ruins, no tumble of age-struck stone. Kadiya had seen the
transformation work before, passing in the opposite direction. Ruins
without to the eye; within, a city silent, deserted, yet unpitted by years.
Streets stretched empty before them. The buildings bordering them,
though half clothed with the green of vines, showed no crumbling. Just as
the Citadel in which she had been born had survived time without decay,
so had this place though all other sites the Vanished Ones had left behind
were tumbled stone.

  Jagun's pack thudded from his back to the pavement. He muttered
something as might one who lived by natural laws and did not welcome a
confrontation with what put those in abeyance.

  "This is a place of…" He hesitated as if he could not find the proper
words.

  The clouds were darker. Night was overtaking the storm. Kadiya was on
her feet. Twilight, or black night, she was now so close—

   "This is a place of Power," she said, and her words seemed softened by
the mist which was growing stronger. "And I have something to do."

   She did not turn her head to see if he would follow, nor did she linger
for any word of agreement. Instead she hurried onward. To either hand
the intact buildings loomed. The curtains of vines which draped them took
on a darker hue in the twilight. Windows like great lidless eyes watched
her from behind those living screens. No flicker of lamp, flare of torch gave
honest welcome. Still she felt no alarm, no fear that anything here lay in
wait.

   From street, to square, to street, she went to find that which she knew
was the heart of this place. She rounded a mist-veiled pool to come to a
stairway. There she stopped, both hands gripping the sword she wore but
had not drawn. On either side, mounted on each rising step, were life-size
(or perhaps larger than life-size) statues, facing each other so that none
could pass between them unseen.

    The artist who had carved them had given them a kind of shimmering
life as if each were bespelled. Men and women in company, they were
surely representations of the Vanished Ones. Each countenance differed
from the others so that one could well believe they were portraits of the
once-living.

   Kadiya slipped off her pack, then drew the sword. This she held by the
pointless blade. As if the gesture assured her right to entrance, the girl
climbed the stairs.

  Gaining the columned platform above, she paused. There was the
second stairway which she sought, leading downward to a garden which
was not of any world she knew. Here fruit and flower shared the same
branch. Time vanished: There was no past, no future, only the moment in
which she moved. The mist was nearly gone. Even the twilight lingered, as
if night had no place here.

  Sparks of light danced in the air. They were many-colored, as if jewels
had taken wings. From flower to flower, swelling fruit to fruit, they
wheeled and spun. She had never seen their like elsewhere in the
swamplands.

   With a sigh Kadiya dropped to the top step. At that moment all the
weariness of her travel settled upon her. She raised her hand to push off
the helm which suddenly had taken on an intolerable weight. It fell, to
clang on the white stone, and she frowned at the noise.

   Her hair was plastered to her mud splattered cheeks, or lay in lank
strings upon her mail clad shoulders. It held the darkness of peat waters.
Swamp smells were strong about her body. The fragrance of the garden
seemed a reproach.

   Across her knees rested the sword. The three eyes which formed the
pommel were sealed, closed as tightly as if they had never been opened to
loose raw powers. Kadiya slipped her hands along the blade. Once her
touch had awakened tingling life, but that was gone now. This was
certainly what was meant to be.

   Though she caressed the sword, her eyes were on the garden. The one
who had come to her here, who had sent her into battle with the Dark to
learn for herself a little of what she was, or could be, would that one come
again now?

   No. Instead the twilight was slowly dimming at last. Nothing moved
save the gemmed flyers. With a sigh, her shoulders slumped. Kadiya arose
and went down step by lingering step into the garden.

   The thick turf which covered all the open land between shrubs, beds of
flowers, and twining vines was broken in only one place. Where that patch
of earth was visible there seemed to be also a hovering luminosity.

   Kadiya stumbled toward it. She stooped and, with both hands clasped
tightly over the ovals which held the eyes, drove the squared-off blade tip
of her talisman into the spot of bared earth. The blade entered, but not
easily. There was strong resistance which drew heavily on her already
taxed energy. But the sword stood erect when she moved back a step, a
strange new growth in this place of comfort and peace.

   Her hands went to her throat to clasp that other symbol of Power which
she had worn from birth—the amulet of amber with a tiny embedded
flowerlet within it. Kadiya waited.

   She had returned this sword of Power to the place from which it had
grown. It did not change as she had thought it would. The girl tensed, her
shoulders straightened. She loosed hold of the amulet to sweep back the
lank locks of hair and fully clear her sight. Nothing moved.

  Kadiya cleared her throat. Though she spoke aloud, her words sounded
deadened, far off.

    "All is finished. We have completed that task which was set us. The evil
is vanquished—Haramis is Archimage. Anigel reigns over both friend and
those who were once foes. What would you have of me?"

  The answer? Was the unchanging sword to be her only answer? Was
she, in the place which knew no time, showing her old impatience?
Resolutely she spoke again:

   "I was told when I was here before, by that one who met me, that this is
a place of learning. My… my need then seemed great, for I was going up
against all the forces our enemies could range against us." She paused and
sought for words anew. "Now also my need is great. What would you have
of me? What lies in my future that I must give in return? Haramis has her
learning and her desired power, Anigel her kingdom. If I have truly earned
a future, what is it to be? I have had no answer, but I have been drawn
here for some reason. Give me answers, you who shelter in this place, as
once before you showed me the way!"

   Still nothing moved save the glowing things. Night had darkened, but a
pale light encircled the planted sword.

   Kadiya half reached for it, then snatched back her hand. She must
understand more first. Turning, she climbed the stairs to the top refusing
to look back.
    Weariness was now trifold, and with it she felt a sense of emptiness and
loss. It was not that she had left her portion of Power behind, but more as
if some other will had walled her out, stepped between her and knowledge.

   Yet in her remained a core of that stubbornness which had never
accepted helplessness and would not now. There was a purpose behind all
this, of that she was certain. And that she intended to discover. If not
then, in days to come.

  "Lady—

   At the foot of the stairway of the Guardians by the edge of the pool,
stood Jagun, holding her pack with his. He held his spear point down as
one did when approaching an Elder or Clan Captain. But perhaps that
gesture was not meant for her but rather for what had once abided here.

   Kadiya went down, her step firm. She held her helm in her hand, and
there was still the dagger in her belt, even though she had left the sword
behind. There was no danger here to threaten the body, of that she was
sure. There was something else, though. What it was, she must learn for
herself.

  "Trail master." She gestured to the building beyond the pool. "Here is a
choice of shelter and we are surely made free of it."

                         Chapter Two

    EVEN THOUGH THE CHOSEN BUILDING WAS the snuggest shelter
they had found since leaving the Citadel, there was no way of making a fire
and the damp clung. Between the roof and the stairs stretched the now
black mirror of the pool. The darkness within the empty doorway was
daunting enough so that Kadiya hesitated just within, trying to see even a
little of what might wait there. She decided that the sense of awareness
which she had slowly developed during her travels through the mires was
too uncertain to be really trusted now. She felt no subtle warnings, but
that was no assurance that there was nothing waiting here.

    Jagun had been pawing through his pack. Though Kadiya could claim
farsight, dark was always less thick for the Oddling. He drew out a tube a
little shorter than his forearm. With this in hand he went out again into
the open.

   All Kadiya could sight there was a shadowy tossing of the brush
growing along the edges of the pavement. Then there came a dagger point
of wan light. Jagun had found, and was prying forth from its refuge under
a leaf, a glow-grub. Another and another was stuffed methodically into the
tube. When he returned he carried a rod which diffused a feeble but very
welcome light.

   A quick survey showed that they had found a room barren of everything
but four walls, a solid pavement and a roof which was certainly storm
proof.

   With stiff fingers Kadiya pulled at the buckles of her shell armor. The
odor of her wet hair, of her slime-stained body was an offense. Much as
she had always sought the swamplands, this uncleanliness was something
she had never accepted without faint disgust. Once free of the armor, her
under jerkin pulled loose from its clammy grip on her body and she felt a
fraction more at ease with herself.

   The fastenings of her pack were also hard to force; the woven reeds had
tightened. Kadiya broke a fingernail to the quick and spit out a fiery word.

   By the limited glimmer of Jagun's improvised lamp she was able to
separate a strip of woven reed-pith towel. There was the pool waiting
without but she did not intend to visit that by night. Instead a soft patter
beyond the door suggested a more beneficial rain was falling. Discarding
the rest of her sodden and too well worn clothing, she deliberately
ventured forth. A handful of leaves gave her something with which to
scrub and she used that fast fraying vegetation well.

   She had long ago sacrificed the lengths of her heavy hair for the
wearing of the helm. Now, since it fell no farther than her shivering
shoulders, she was able to wet it thoroughly, run her fingers through
tangles, and do the best she could to bring it to partial order.

   There was a chill in the rain and she ducked back into their shelter to
use her scrap of towel vigorously. A clean under jerkin was a luxury which
she savored as she laced it at the throat. For a moment she thought of
what she had once known in the ladies' bower at the Citadel—all the
comfort which was now Anigel's. Then Kadiya shook her head, as much at
her thought as to swing her hair loose.
   For the first time Jagun spoke. "You do not wear the sword." His large
eyes reflected the glow, even seemed to have a faint radiance of their own
from where he sat cross-legged, his hands within his pack.

  Kadiya flicked out the towel, shook her still wet head.

   "It—it was not received," she said. "I set it in the place from which it
grew from the Archimage's stalk. There came no change. No change…" she
repeated, and then added with more force, "How could that be. Hunt
Master? Has the prophecy not been fulfilled in full? We women of the
House of Krain brought forth the Great Weapon of the ancients. Voltrik
and Orogastus are dead. Their army has sworn Oath to Antar, and, since
he is Anigel's chosen lord, also to Ruwenda which they sought to rend and
destroy. The Skritek have fled back to their own loathesome holes. I have
seen my younger sister safely crowned and happily, as she deems, wed; my
elder sister go to her place of learning, her choice of power wielding. Yet
my geas still is not laid."

   She had dropped to her knees so that her eyes were nearly on a level
with those of the Oddling. Now she studied him as if she demanded
answers.

  "Tell me, Jagun, why is the reward for a task well done now denied
me?"

  "Farseer, who can understand the ones who built this place? They have
been gone hundreds of hundreds." He gave a quick glance right and left
and then back again. "They had powers beyond reckoning—their life was
not ours."

  "True. They have been long gone.

   Jagun was nodding. "The Great One Binah was the last of their blood,
choosing to stand as Guardian here when they left. Now time has taken
even her."

   He pulled out the last of their dried root cakes and broke it carefully in
half, holding one piece out to her. Though she was faint with hunger
(realizing that the more when she saw the remnant of food) she did not
immediately bite into its tooth-cracking hardness. Instead she turned the
small block around in her hand.
   "Jagun, tell me of the Vanished Ones. Oh, I know what our own records
at the Citadel have to tell—did I not search those just before we came
hither?—that this land was once a great lake, perhaps even an inlet of the
sea, that it encircled islands that were the dwelling places of another
people, neither Oddling, nor of my own race.

   "Legend has it that they were mighty in powers we do not know and
that for long they lived in peace. Then we are told of a great war in which
weapons such as we cannot dream of were turned one against
another—though perhaps when we witnessed what Orogastus called up
against us we saw in part those dealers of death. These rent the very
substance of the land and the waters were drained away, cities were left to
fall to the perils of time. But where did they go, those Vanished Ones?
Certainly they did not all die in the hellish ruin they wrought.

   "Yet, who were they? Remember, Jagun, the first time we came to this
place we followed the pointing arm of a statue hacked free from a coating
of dried mud. You had a name for that statue: Lamaril. Tell me, Hunt
Master, who was that Lamaril?"

  Kadiya did not know why she chose that question out of all those which
now seethed in her mind.

  Perhaps she should ask concerning that veiled one who had spoken to
her at her first coming. Had that been—the thought came sudden and
sharp— another Vanished One like Binah who had chosen to remain?

   Drawing upon her memory, now Kadiya thought there had been
something illusionary about the encounter. It had had none of the reality
of her meeting with the Archimage. Her perplexity now brought another
query from her.

  "Sword Bearer," her companion's tone was formal as if he now
addressed a Speaker, the ruler of a house clan, "none of my people have
dared to enter this place. We are Oath-bound against it."

  "Not you any longer, Jagun. The talisman freed you." The girl
remembered those words which had come from someplace outside her
understanding to heal his despair when he believed himself forsworn.
Again she repeated them:

  "Bear no soul burden."
  For a moment he was silent and his eyes were not on her but rather
sought the grub lamp, as if he were reading there some message in the
manner a wise woman would scry from a filled bowl.

    "You ask of Lamaril. Yes, my people have legends also—but time
broken, hard to understand now. He was a warrior—a shield Guardian
against the Dark. It is said that he stood alone at the end against one of
the mightiest of the evil ones, that he won a battle for the Light, but then
died. Also he was one who favored my people, so at his going we did him
all the honor that we might.

   "Farseer—the Vanished Ones made us, Nyssomu and Uisgu both. We
had been as those that still come and go in the mires, mindless, without
memory of yesterday or thought of tomorrow. With the aid of the
Vanished Ones we became true people. Their knowledge of life force, life
flow, was very great, enabling them to do that which can hardly be
believed in these days. Because we were formed by their powers from
lesser creatures we have striven to keep alive what we remember of them.
But the sources of their power were always closed to us, for we were as
children not to be trusted with a sharp-edged dagger. When the Dark
threatened, those who had summoned us out of the mires spoke. They set
the Oath upon us that we would not seek what they wished hidden and
ordered us into hiding lest we be hunted down by the evil."

  "But who were they?" Kadiya asked that of herself rather than Jagun
now. "I have looked upon those statues which stand guard across the way.

  I saw the likeness of Lamaril on the trail. In some ways they might be of
my own kind, yet in others they differ."

   "No word passed among us from Speaker to Speaker has told of what
they were before our people arose from the waterways at their command. I
do not think them kin of yours, Farseer. As to whether they all died in the
war with the Dark… no. Some are said to have survived and withdrawn to
another place, perhaps the one from which they once came."

   "This Dark—oh, I know that such a name is given by my people to great
evil such as Orogastus loosed upon us—from where did that arise?"

  "Farseer, there is darkness in the heart of your kind, in Oddlings,
perhaps in all living things if we knew how to measure or discover it. The
Vanished Ones were not all masters of the Light. They may well have had
their Voltrik, their Orogastus. At least the war legend hints so—although
the name by which that evil was known has not come to us.

   "Even as the Nyssomu and the Uisgu were lifted up by the Light to be
thinking creatures of life and hope, so it is said that the Skritek were
formed to do the work of evil, and were left masterless at the end to be
ever a plague for our land."

   "Yet there was that one who spoke to me—though I did not see the
Speaker clearly." Kadiya dared now the most compelling question. "I have
heard that there is an essence in all beings which is loosed by the death of
the body. Was it such an essence that I met here? Or can it be that Binah
was not the only Guardian who remained? Jagun, I must know!"

   She thought regretfully of wasted time. Haramis had always sought out
the old books and records of the Citadel, but from early childhood Kadiya
had been impatient of such things. The need for action was strong in her;
even now it made her shift uneasily as she bit into her ration. She thought
of the garden beyond. There was food in plenty there, fruit far better than
this which was like ashes on her tongue.

   The Oddling had not answered. In herself she knew what must be
done— in the morning she must go searching for more than food. Many
things had been discovered in the time-devoured ruins already explored
by Nyssomu and Uisgu. What might have lingered undisturbed here in a
place where exploration had been forbidden?

  Choking down the last crumb, the girl reached for the grub rod.

  "Give me the use of this for a space, Hunter. I wish to know what
manner of lodging we have chosen this night."

   He nodded but made no move to join her as she crossed to carry the
light to the nearest wall. Yes, she had not been mistaken; in spite of the
gloom, she had sighted something here. Now she held the tube closely to
the stone, moving it slowly.

   There were paintings on those walls—mostly of flowers, but here and
there of some fanciful creature—so time-dimmed as to be hardly visible. It
was oddly conceived: she might be looking out from a window into the
garden. Flowers and fruit on the same branch, and, in the air above them,
flying things of slightly more brilliant hues which appeared to leap out of
the stone when even the very soft grub light touched them.

   As she moved along Kadiya saw intricate detailing which invited
further study. But nowhere was there any representation of a living
creature save those flyers. The artist or artists who had worked here left no
portraits of themselves or of those who might have commissioned such
scenes.

   Kadiya reached the corner and turned to view the second wall. Halfway
along that was an opening and here the floral patterns gave way to curves,
broken lines—writing? She thought there was a suggestion of such, but she
had no key to unlock it. Some of those lines she traced with a finger, as if
by touch she could solve their mysteries.

   Then another dark doorway was before her. She swung the tube into
the gap. The glimmer was too faint to show what lay beyond. Perhaps in
another place she would have disliked the fact that the opening held no
barrier which could be closed. Here she had not the slightest feeling of
uneasiness, though she did not go through.

    There was another section of writing and then a second corner faced
her. This wall was the one in which the entrance to the outer world was
set. Again there were pictures, but not of a garden in rich growth. Rather
she was looking upon water. It did not have the dark dullness of a swamp
lakelet, nor the yellow traces of a river, nor was it the mirror pool. No, this
was painted a glistening silver-blue, and far out from a bit of shore
indicated at the bottom of the wall was a shadow of what might be an
island.

   No boat troubled the surface of that clear water, though the curl of
waves was indicated and Kadiya was sure it was no mere pool. Could this
be a scene of that famed lake-sea which had once been?

   The fourth wall was in contrast to the other three. What the glimmer
picked out there brought an exclamation from her. Seeming ready to step
down from that surface into the room was a row of strange creatures.

   "Jagun!" Kadiya summoned the hunter who had been unrolling their
sleep mats, playing no part in her explorations. "Jagun, what are these?"

   He padded across the floor to join her and Kadiya moved the light tube
as close to the painting as she could.
  "These… I have never seen such before."

  "I do not know, Farseer."

   Was she overreacting or had she heard a trace of sullenness, even
evasion in that?

   "There may have been many things here in the old days which are
unknown in the here and now." He wheeled and went back to his
preparations for the night.

   The pictured figures stood on their hind legs in a human-like position,
and they had upper appendages which resembled arms, save that the
"hands" were collections of formidable claws. Their bodies followed the
general outline of a warrior's shield, wide at the top—shoulder
level—tapering down to a much narrower space between their legs. The
heads were set upon those wide shoulders as if they lacked necks. The
shield-shaped bodies were serrated across the forepart into plates, each of
which appeared to be, in turn, formed of small scales. The skillfully used
color of the wall painting gave a gloss still to some parts of those bodies,
an iridescent sheen such as Kadiya had seen on the wing cases of insects.
They were a greenish blue even to their heads which were shaped very
much like a drop of water about to fall from the lip of a jug—the wider
part dividing two very large ears set well apart on either side of the upper
skull, the narrower portion forming a snout. The eyes were small but the
artist had somehow set into them a gleam of red which now caught the
grub light and gave startling life to the whole countenance.

   Strange indeed, yet there was nothing alarming about them. Their claw
hands were spread wide open before them as if they reached for an
offering gladly given, or else ready to greet a friend. There was something
wistfully appealing about them.

   Tentatively Kadiya touched the forehead of one of the group, more than
half expecting she might feel a texture other than stone. But that came
from the skill of the artist; they were but paintings.

   "Farseer!" Jagun's summons was peremptory. "It is time to rest—not to
go gazing at walls."

  Again the girl felt that it was that wall and what had been painted there
which made him uneasy. Because of that half-suspicion she longed to
know more. However, he was right: fatigue made her body heavy. She
rubbed her hand across her forehead—that dull ache she always felt when
she had driven herself too long nagged at her. Kadiya went back to the
place close to the door where Jagun had chosen to set up camp.

   This time there was no drone or rattle of rain, no seepage of storm to
turn discomfort into real misery. Kadiya placed the tube between their
two sleeping mats. This was the end of the trail—at least the trail she had
seen in her mind until this night. The pressure which had urged her away
from the Citadel was gone. Still, as sleep overtook her, the last thing in her
mind was the memory of the sword she had left defiantly wedged in
ground reluctant to receive it.

  Kadiya awoke suddenly as she had often done during the past days
while they threaded a swamp concealing enemies. She was aware of some
change: her trail-heightened senses had alerted her from sleep.

  Through slitted eyes she viewed her surroundings. The glow rod had
nearly finished its light—the grubs were going into hibernation having
been so long removed from nourishment. But she could still see Jagun,
and the hunter had not moved.

   Now Kadiya called upon hearing. There was a silence in this place
which was deadening, divorced from all the night sounds of the outer
world. She could pick up the quiet hiss of her companion's
breathing—nothing else. But the girl was sure there had been something
to waken her.

  Their earlier talk of an essence which might linger behind the dwellers
who had once been—?

   There was certainly no hint of Skritek stench, though she was well
aware those killers could move with noiseless stealth when they wished.
No. Her body still inert now Kadiya strove to adjust to another form of
seeking.

  Yes!

   She sat up abruptly, thrusting aside the edge of the sleeping mat. It was
there! Like a horn call to action! Yet she did not reach for the armor she
had discarded—though she did buckle on the belt with the empty sword
sheath, the dagger still pendant.
   Emerging with caution from the building, she looked across the pool to
those pale gleams which marked the statue Guardians of the stairs. Slowly
Kadiya moved toward them, a struggle between hard-learned caution and
eagerness in her. The inborn desire for action won.

   Up those stairs she went, halting on each to view, right and left, the
motionless sentinels. Somehow their features were clearly visible in spite
of the gloom—as if there was life buried within.

  Kadiya stood at last among the columns looking back across the pool
and the city of vine-smothered buildings beyond. Light!

  From old conditioning her hand swept instantly to dagger hilt.
Certainly there—to her right—she had seen a flicker of light!

   The radiance of that half-misted figure she had met here? Impossible—
yet…

                       Chapter Three

   THERE WOULD BE NO PARTY OF NYSSOMU or Uisgu here. The
Oddlings might explore other ruins for the "treasure" which could be
traded in their market at Trevista—but not the remains of a city
Oath-forbidden. Nor in the aftermath of a war which had pulled all the
swamplands into action would there be at this early date hunting parties
such as were sometimes employed by the more venturesome of her own
people. The war! Those of Labornok who had drenched the land with
blood had even dared to invade the swamps. Their General Hamil had won
almost to this city. Could there have been stragglers from that force,
driven and harassed by Oddlings, threatened by the very nature of the
country they did not understand, cut off here?

   Or someone—something—else? Kadiya still clung to the memory of that
veiled presence.

   The night was going now—she could see more as she studied the city
spread out from this viewpoint. If there were others here then it was best
that she learn what she could of them, and as quickly as possible.

  Kadiya sped down the steps, located a cross street leading in the right
direction. As she entered that side way the caution she had learned
through the past months curbed her first rush.

  Slacking pace she looked for cover ahead.

   Here the buildings were set flush with the street and even the growth of
vine curtain, so profuse elsewhere, was strictly limited. She did not follow
a straight path. Instead she wove from street to alleyway, down that
narrow strip, to street again, always hoping she was heading in the right
direction.

   The heavy mist which took the place of storm-driven rain within these
walls thickened and curled, slowing her even more. Every few strides
Kadiya paused with her back to the nearest wall and studied the way
before her, paying close attention to any rags of fog which might conceal
movement.

   Luckily her sodden swamp boots made no sound on the pavement and
she continued to use hunters' caution, all she had learned from Jagun, a
master of such craft.

    Another way here, even more narrow. It was so walled by buildings that
its length was twilight dark. Neither wall along it showed any break of
window or door. But about two thirds of the way along a loop of vine
twisted down two stories. It had almost the look of a noose trap, save it
was in no way concealed. The girl approached it one step at a time,
listening—and also striving to enlist that other sense of which she was not
entirely sure.

   During the time she had worn the sword talisman she had always been
aware of a warning. However, that weapon was no longer at her
command. The Oddlings possessed senses of their own as danger alerts.
Those worked well in the swamp mires. But within a city? These walls and
buildings were alien—even to she who had been born and bred in the
Citadel, also a remainder of the far past.

   On impulse Kadiya closed her eyes, strove to quest outward with
thought. She had done so once with some success as a guard against the
presence of the Dark. Could it serve in another way?

   Answer came as light as a brush of soft feathers against her skin, save
that passage was from within, not without her body. Kadiya's breath
hissed—she had hardly expected an answer—but there was no time to
muse on what had happened, to question or examine. Instead she strove
to hold to the feeling as if she might fasten, by some turn of a wrist, a hook
within the jaw of a fish. Not that she wished to draw that feeling near her.
No, rather to guide herself toward its source.

   Pushing away from the wall Kadiya opened her eyes—only to learn that
her intent hold on that elusive guide had brought her shaving-close to
disaster. For the vine noose uncoiled in a blur of speed to whip through
the air. The girl threw herself backward, stumbled, and went down
bruisingly hard on one knee.

   A vicious jerk brought a cry as the end of that lash tangled and then
swiftly vised a grip on her wild mop of hair. The pain was intense as the
vine dragged her forward. Kadiya felt as if her scalp might be torn from
her skull.

   She had her dagger out, and—though she could not see much of that
which hung from above holding her prisoner and in spite of the agony her
efforts caused—she twisted and turned, to stab and cut above her head. At
times her blade met resistance.

    Tears of sheer pain wet her cheeks as the thing continued to pull her
upward. Now her feet barely touched the pavement as her captor strove to
swing her aloft. Before her dropped a second rope-like strand. Kadiya
sliced at it. Her weapon sank in; the vine, half cut through, recoiled
against the stone wall.

   Perhaps this had some effect on the line which kept her prisoner. The
upward pull seemed to pause as she sawed furiously at her hair. The
keenness of that blade was her salvation, for it sliced through those tautly
stretched locks and she landed facedown on the pavement.

  Without trying to regain her feet Kadiya wriggled forward, the flesh of
her palms grating painfully on the harsh surface.

   There was a swishing sound from above. She made a last plunge which
she hoped would take her out of reach of the thing, skidding across the
way until her shoulder struck against the opposite wall.

  A sensation of vicious rage struck like a spear into her mind. But in its
way that attack aided her, for it was the anger of a hunter baffled by prey.
   Kadiya pulled herself up against the wall, facing the direction of the
menace. The long rope thing lashed the air at her, coming once or twice
close enough to fan air against her cheek. Frantically she edged away.

   The aura of hot rage was a new kind of pain. She shook her head from
side to side, limp and panting. She was at least beyond the reach of the
thing.

   Now she knew an anger in return. She felt betrayed by that feeling of
peace which had seemed to enfold her since she had entered the city. Was
that part of a trap? Moments ago she had believed that there was no
threat from these empty buildings and walls about. Now—

   Breathing hard, she closed her left hand tightly about her amulet as her
right held ready the dagger. Then she called upon what small power she
had learned she possessed.

   The Dark had its own betraying emanation—just as the Skritek gave
forth their foul body odor. She had met the Dark and she would not forget
that scent which only an inner sense could know. Yet here and now she
could pick up nothing of such a foulness. There was a smell, yes. That she
could identify as issuing from a thick ooze dribbling from the cut vine.
Sap—or blood?

   In the swamp there were plants which were a danger to all living
things. They were not born of evil magic, but their very nature offered
peril. Here in the city there was lush growth wherever the ground had
been left uncovered to root it. Those vines she had seen elsewhere had
wreathed and covered many of the deserted buildings.

   This thing, its one portion still twisting snake-wise, could well be of a
similar species, rooted on the far side of the wall. However, if it were a
hunter—such as those swamp things she had seen—how did it continue to
live here where there appeared to be no other life?

   Kadiya wiped the stickiness from the blade of her dtfgger by drawing it
across her travel-ragged breeches. With her other hand she gingerly
explored the aching crown of her head. Several wisps of hair came loose,
their roots bloody.

  The flesh on her knees was raw. She was still shaking from her ordeal.
Prudence argued that she return to their camp, to seek treatment for her
wounds and any knowledge Jagun might supply.

   As she stood there she had kept loose that mind sense. The rage of the
attacker still threatened—she could also pick up an undercurrent of pain
as if the wound of the injured member fed that hate. However, that
feather touch, that which now she identified as a summons, still called.

   There were too many unanswered questions. If she could gain only a
few answers, then she must. With the grim intent which had ridden her on
her quest for the sword talisman awakened once more in her, Kadiya
made her choice to go on.

   The gray light of the day was strong enough now for her to see well
ahead. She stepped from the mouth of that alley into another wide open
space.

   Though the buildings here were not tall, they were imposing. Their
fore-walls were not smooth but thickly patterned with deeply incised
designs, especially about the doors and windows. There were patches of
vegetation from which came the heady perfume of flowers. As Kadiya
emerged into the open there came a scurrying and the swift flight of some
creature not much larger than her hand. So there was life here.

   She kept well away from all the greenery as she made her way into the
middle of the square where there was the basin of a fountain. To her
surprise water still played there, arising in feathery plumes from two
separate points to meet in the center before beginning a combined
descent.

   Kadiya stumbled onto the wide rim about the basin and fell rather than
sat on a bench which encircled it. She rested the dagger close enough to be
snatched in an instant, then leaned forward to plunge both hands into the
water.

    To her vast surprise the liquid was not chill but warm, as if it had lain
under a summer sun. She puddled it in the palms of her hands and raised
it to her face. It had a faint spicy scent.

   Daring to use it she washed her arms and her abraded knees, then
gingerly bent her head forward so she could pour handfuls over her bloody
head and hair. The water was very clear; she could see the bottom of the
basin clearly.
   Flecks of light glinted there even though there was no sun to seek them
out. She leaned over and scooped one up. Out of the water came a chain of
finely wrought metal. She recognized it as one of the strange treasures of
the past which had ever puzzled her father's smiths at the Citadel. It had
neither the yellow-red of gold, nor the cool sheen of silver, but seemed
rather to be fashioned of thread drawn from a blue-green gem substance
and woven into a cord.

   As Kadiya held this high, water dripped from scores of pale silver
stones set along the chain, and those too gave off flashes of light. She
stared at her find entranced. For all of her life she had heard stories of
treasures to be found in the ruins, and she had seen artifacts (mainly
broken), which lucky traders had brought from the fair at Trevista. Those
had always been pieces and bits with only hints of what form they might
once have held. This was entire, perfect.

  When the girl straightened it out she saw it was formed like a bib,
made to extend from the throat down collar-wise across the breast. Her
mother had had jewels, some so fine they were brought forth in reverence
only for state occasions, but this overshadowed all such.

   There were other glints in the water. Kadiya held the necklace and
looked farther along the basin. Here was wealth beyond any reckoning she
knew. Beauty, riches exceeding all the stores of the Citadel, beyond even
the imagining of her people, if all those sparks equalled even in part what
she held. Kadiya turned the necklace around and around, bemused by it.
The drops seemed frozen water holding all the range of rainbow light.

   Deep inside her a question formed. Why did this treasure lie here—so
discarded?

    The leaping spray of the fountain was warm against her skin, yet
Kadiya no longer felt refreshed. Her uneasiness dampened her wonder at
the find. Suddenly she loosed her hold on the necklet, allowing it to fall
back into the depths from which she had drawn it. She did not try to fish
it forth again, nor reach for any of the other pieces she could see.

   The ways of the Vanished Ones were not those of her people, even
though those statues had forms like her own. Two seasons ago it had been
her turn, much as she had been impatient with ceremonial customs, to
attend the first sowing of the polders. It was a duty each woman of the
Royal blood took in turn.
    There she had made the required sacrifices to fortune, fertility, and the
fields to ensure good harvests. She had been escorted to a pool of water
not as clear as that which leaped and dashed here, but at least not too
stained with the matter of the swamps, and there she had ritually taken
from her arm a cherished band of twisted gold—for the offering must be
something of value to the giver—to toss it into the pool before the Spring
Maidens of her escort had thrown thither their flower garlands. So she
had paid dues to some power, though no one explained what that power
might be, nor why it must be appeased by treasures.

   Kadiya stared at the basin. Was this just such a place of propitiation as
that polder pool? Did what lay within it now represent petitions for good
fortune? She arose slowly. Be that so or not, she would take nothing.

   With the coming of full morning the haze had gone. Still, the insistent
feeling which had brought her this far had not lessened. She wheeled
about to face the buildings which surrounded the fountain. These were far
more ornamented than any she had seen elsewhere.

  To explore them all…

   That thought did not have time to daunt her. Even above the splash of
the fountain she heard what sounded clearly—a chime as sweet as if from
crystal bells. Drawn by that she rounded the basin to approach a building
where a columned overhang made a shadow.

   As Kadiya approached she could see a doorway. It was open without
sign of barrier. This, too, was flanked by a statue on either side. However,
these silent Guardians were not wearing forms like her own. Rather the
twin sentries were copies of the creatures in the wall painting—those
oddities Jagun had not identified.

   Unlike the statues by the entrance to the garden these had none of that
odd sense of buried life. Grotesque as they were, Kadiya was sure they had
not been erected to inspire any dread. She stood surveying them, one and
then the other, when she became aware of something else.

   From the darker interior beyond the doorless portal there drifted a
scent. In the Citadel on great feast days they had lit tall lanterns which
burned a spicy oil. Here was a hint of that same odor. Had such a lantern
been the source of the light which had set her exploring? If so, that beacon
would require more than one lamp, set higher in the building, or she
would not have sighted it. No Oddling ever used such.

   Kadiya ventured forward, very glad that her boots made no sound. Her
hand was at her dagger hilt. Involuntarily she drew the weapon as her
second stride carried her into complete darkness. Her head swam with
vertigo and queasiness; she feared entrapment in this place of utter
darkness.

  The dizziness got worse—she fought it with movement. Kadiya threw
herself forward, bursting from the curtain of blindness into a gray light
where she had the power to see again.

   Before her opened a great hall. What awaited her held her motionless
for several gasping breaths. This was a place of formal elegance, far richer
than the audience chamber of the Citadel. She looked for a dais, for a
throne.

   There was movement as if shadows came and went, though what or
who threw them remained invisible. But shadows… colored! She blinked
and blinked again. When she tried to focus on one of those very tenuous
forms, to see it clearly, the wisp fled or flickered out. Still from the corners
of her eyes she could catch glimpses of what might have been a company
in festival garb gathered in stately and formal patterns.

   Again the chimes sounded. This time the tinkle of notes echoed from
the tall walls of the room. Somehow Kadiya was emboldened by that
sound. As the echoes died she dared to speak:

   "Great Ones—" She had resheathed her dagger. One did not stand
before overlords with bared steel in hand, whether those she could half see
be only shadows or not. "Great Ones, if I have judged aright, there has
gone forth a summons. I have come."

                          Chapter Four

   DID THOSE SHADOWS SHIFT, SEEM TO gather in two long lines,
opening a path before her? There came another and louder singing of the
crystal notes. Down that only partly seen space which had been left open,
two small, strange figures which had the firmness of real bodies moved.
   They were only half as tall as she. The first was partially shrouded in a
wide shawl or scarf draped about broad shoulders, one piece muffling its
head, the other end trailing on the floor. Hand-like appendages protruded
from this covering to clasp a rod with a wide loop at its top. Hung in that
were crystal bell-like drops which sounded at each step the bearer took.

    The companion of the bell ringer was the same size but obviously
wearing a garment intended for a very much larger being. Sleeves had
been rolled back, and a high standing collar served now as a cowl, hiding
its features as completely as the scarf veiled those of its fellow.

   In its two claw hands it bore a lamp with a flame which shot from a
spout at the fore. From that wafted the fragrance she had scented, as if it
were fed by oil distilled directly from flowers. The oversized garment
trailed behind it to form a heavy train.

   Both the scarf and the robe were alive with color, covered by glints
which echoed the rainbows of the crystals. Neither appeared to regard the
shadows.

   Yet as they passed along that aisle, some of those seemed for an instant
to take on great substance—though never long enough for Kadiya to be
sure of what she saw. There was a solemnity in the approach of the two.
They might have been children dressed in their elders' robes of ceremony,
attempting to mimic rites they had once witnessed—with the same serious
attention the original priests or priestesses would have shown. There was
nothing alarming about them for all their oddity of appearance. Kadiya
slowly relaxed as she watched them in wonder.

   Plainly they were intent upon her as the goal of that formal advance.
She wondered fleetingly how they could see through the muffling about
their heads. To address such as these as "Great Ones"… no, that did not
seem right.

   The girl gave a greeting as she would have to an Oddling Speaker,
setting both palms together and inclining her head.

   "May the day be fair, the harvest and the hunt good, the waterways
clear to your going." She spoke in the Oddling trade tongue, hoping that
perhaps she would be understood.

  The creature vigorously rang the bells three times more, then held the
rod steady to still the chime. There followed a chittering which was
certainly no Oddling speech, rather sounds she had never heard before.

   Kadiya was at a loss. She must find some way to communicate with this
pair, but how?

   Jagun had instructed her in hand signs which were used in the swamps
when there was a need for silence—as when an Oddling force lay ambush
for the Skritek. The girl flexed her fingers, then moved them in the
simplest of those gestures—one meaning a truce.

   The ringer of the crystals responded with a vigorous shake of his
instrument. Did that short, loud chime mean acceptance? The creature
half turned, making a beckoning gesture.

   Somehow Kadiya had no feeling of fear or uneasiness, only a growing
curiosity. The lamp bearer had also turned about with a swish of robe,
freeing one set of claws to jerk those folds from entanglement. Kadiya
followed them down the long hall, taking care not to tread on the trails of
the ill-fitting garments.

   That of the lamp bearer, she noted as she drew closer, was so badly
worn that only bands and swirls of what might be metallic thread held it
together. Once it must have been a thing of splendor, truly a royal robe of
state perhaps even from the days of the Vanished Ones, now put to some
ceremonial use by these others.

   As she advanced, those eye straining shadows began to fade, and by the
time their small procession had reached the end of the huge chamber
there were left only fleeting wisps like tatters of fog. There was no light
save the lamp, and the walls vanished in dim obscurity. Kadiya slowed
pace a little as her inborn distrust of the unknown which lay in all
swamplands stirred.

   In the wake of her guides, she passed through an archway in a wall into
even deeper gloom. The chimes rang out and she caught other sounds: a
scraping, a skittering, even the thud of what might be shod feet, a
fluttering…

   Out of the dark, the light of the lamp picked out a head—then another.
Kadiya was startled. The long snout, the large ears, were covered by what
did not seem skin but rather an overlay of iridescent scales. No statues, no
paintings, these were the living models of the creatures which had been
depicted on the wall.

   Their skin might be scaled, even armor plated in places, but it had no
resemblance to that of a Skritek. Nor was there any stench, though sound
and some of the limited radiance of the lamp betrayed the fact that a
number of them crowded about her. Their beads of eyes were fixed on her
and Kadiya felt that they were viewing her with astonishment equal to her
own.

   The greeter who bore the lamp now set its burden down on a table.
Straightaway, as if that had been a signal, there flared other points of
light. Within moments a number of other lamps clustered near the first or
bobbed about that board, bringing fuller sight to Kadiya.

   The table itself was low as if meant to serve creatures of the size which
milled about it now. Some of the plated bodies were nearly bare save for
necklets or belts, gem-set to catch the light; others wore scraps of ancient
clothing.

    Into the full light of the table lamps stepped one for whom the others
made quick room. Its body was not muffled by any worn-out robe, though
it did wear loose about its wide shoulders a length of cloth. On it were
fastened, in no regular pattern, brooches, spread out necklets, and other
bits of jewelry as precious in appearance as the necklet of the fountain.

   This newcomer beckoned Kadiya closer, and two others hurried out of
the shadows dragging a bench which they placed before her side of the
table in overt invitation.

  The others were busy also. Platters appeared out of the further gloom.

   mostly piled with such fruit as she had seen in the garden. The dishes
themselves were of crystal, some engraved in patterns, or fashioned in
fanciful shapes—such as birds with outstretched wings, their backs
hollowed to hold the fruit, or the shells of some of the swamp creatures,
even curves of many petaled flowers. None she could see were chipped or
cracked. Here was treasure any trader would give close to his life to
garner.

  In addition there were two goblets of the precious green-blue metal.
One was set down before her, the other to the hand of the creature
wearing the much-bejeweled scarf.

   Another came forward to pour from a tall ewer. The liquid did not have
the ruby tint of feast wine, but looked rather like pure water.

   The creature who apparently had been appointed to share this meal
with her—perhaps a feast of ceremony—raised the goblet and made a
small gesture in her direction, not unlike proposing a toast. Kadiya,
having seated herself opposite after a pause in which she defeated caution,
followed that example, fitting her action to the other.

   From the muzzle of her host a black tube-like tongue shot into the
contents of the goblet, sucking instead of drinking. Kadiya took a
mouthful. Water, yes, and yet there was the faint suggestion of a fruit
flavor in it.

   Having drunk, her host or hostess pushed toward the girl one of the
flower-shaped plates on which, embowered in its own leaves, was a ripe
ogam, a delicacy seldom seen at the Citadel. Kadiya picked it up with a
nod of thanks and bit into its plump side, savoring the juice and pulp,
noting that the other diner bored into its fruit with the tip of that
elongated tongue.

   So encouraged Kadiya ate her fill of fruit and then part of a dish which
seemed to be a soft mush, scooping this out with fingers as best she could,
since there were no signs of spoons or other eating utensils about.

   There was a constant clicking around her which she took to be speech.
Certainly this language was beyond her understanding. Questions seethed
in her mind, frustrating to her hard learned patience.

  Then, light-swift in stroke, words formed in her mind.

   "We have watched and waited long, Noble One. Now is the day of great
joy as it was dream-promised—you have returned to us!"

  The creature which had shared her meal met her eye to eye. Kadiya did
not doubt that the mind message came from it. Mind-sending was
rumored to be part of the old magic, spoken of only in the legends. She
had achieved a small portion of such Power when scrying with her sisters.
But this was like true speech though totally silent.
   Kadiya did not know how to answer. Did one think out what message
one must convey—form word pictures in one's mind? And the message
itself… She had not known these beings existed. Who and what were they?
Whom did they take her for?

   "I am Kadiya," she spoke slowly, as one feeling a passage in the dark,
trying to shape the words in her mind, "daughter to King Krain who was
from the Citadel. I was one upon whom was set a geas, that of finding the
Great Talisman of the Black Trillium in part—so that the whole might be
used against the forces of evil. In this place I found that talisman and we
used it well."

   Kadiya centered effort on building a mind picture of the orb pommeled
sword now standing in the garden from which she had first taken it. Then
she changed that picture to the one of the trillium stalk from which it had
grown.

   "Now I have come to return that thing of Power to the Will which
granted it."

  There was an increased stirring among those surrounding the table.
She sensed astonishment tinged with excitement. But also she somehow
knew this was not what they expected from her.

   "You are…" The mind picture which was transmitted to her resembled
the mist-veiled being who had dispatched her to battle, something also
akin to the statues on the garden stair. A Vanished One! Did these strange
small beings equate her with those ancient and awesome holders of the
High Power?

  Kadiya shook her head. It was important that she did not claim
anything of that, allow them to believe that she was more than she truly
was.

   "Those Great Ones were of the long ago." It was almost too difficult to
translate the concept into a mind picture. She was not sure that she could.
But surely these creatures must know it had been generations, hundreds of
hundreds, since the city had been alive with those who had built it. They
must see that there were differences between one bedraggled girl in
swamp worn clothing and those statue people.

  There was a long moment of silence. Even the movements and sounds
made by the crowd were stilled as she continued to hold eye contact with
the leader.

  "Were you not awaited, you would not have come." The answer seemed
ambiguous. Kadiya could only guess at the meaning. Were there wards
upon the city which would have barred any chance visitor, as the Oath
barred the Oddlings? Would they have shut her out had this meeting not
been intended?

   Intended? Was this the beginning of the answers she had sought since
that moment when the planted sword had remained unchanged? Had that
strong pull which had brought her across the swamp, even through the
monsoon, been meant to bring her to this meeting?

   "We have waited long," the words continued in her mind. "Dream
search has been made many, many times. We have striven hard to seek
those who must return—

  "But I am no kin of theirs!" she countered swiftly.

   "Were you not accepted you would not walk these ways." That was a flat
statement and Kadiya sensed that no argument of hers would change it.
But what did these creatures want from her? She had chosen the swamp
as her own domain, but had another Power had a hand in that?

   "I am Kadiya," she said again. "I am no kin, share no blood with those
who ruled here. Though it was by the favor of one"—she thought of the
Archimage Binah—"that I first found this place. I am of another people
who entered this land long after the Vanished Ones had gone. The
Oddlings I know; they have been my battle comrades. The Skritek I know,
and they are the enemy. Tell me, Speaker, who are you? For what people
do you speak?" She gave him the premier title known to the swamp folk,
not knowing how else to address one who must be a leader.

   Again there was a silent pause, broken this time by a stir of those in the
company, though there was no change in the position of the one fronting
her.

  Then came an answer in part:

  "This one is Gosel of the Hassitti, those who were to wait."
   Kadiya acknowledged this with a courteous nod.

   "Those who were to wait," Gosel repeated, "for so was the bond laid
upon us when the Shining Ones departed for their own place. Dreams
have been sent us, many dreams through the seasons, and in them each
we saw again what had been and received that promise of what would be:
that we should not be alone, even though we could not follow their road
which was not meant for our kind. We have waited for the coming of the
promised one—but it has been long and lone…"

   If thought could vanish in a sigh, then this did. Kadiya felt a little of a
vast need long unfulfilled.

   "I am not one of those who left you." She must drive that truth home.
She must destroy at once any hope these might have that she was one of
the city people come again.

  "You are one brought to us," Gosel returned stubbornly. "Surely you
came by the will of the Great Ones or you would not be here. Therefore the
Hassitti are to be again dwellers of the courtyards, heart-friends, even as
was."

  "Friends, I will gladly claim you," Kadiya answered. She held out her
hand across the table as if in guest-welcome.

   So their hands met palm to palm. Instantly Kadiya was aware of a flood
of warmth, of welcome and good feeling such as she had seldom known.
There was something about these Hassitti which was disarming, which
drew her even as she had always been drawn to the Oddlings and the
swamplands, yet this was even more intense.

   "We have kept all which we could, safe held for your coming," Gosel
said with the eagerness of a child who wished to please an elder. "Come
with us, Noble One, to see how the Hassitti have striven to follow all the
needs of duty."

   So she was escorted from that room of feasting by Gosel, the one who
carried the crystal bells, and now a host of lamp bearers. In company they
went from chamber to chamber.

   There were the remains of rich furnishings, skeletons of chairs and
tables, fashioned in a greater size than those she had always known, even
as Gosel's table had been lower. The walls were painted. Some showed
scenes she longed to study closer, but her guides impatiently pressed her
on. One chamber was fitted with many shelves and on those were stacked
boxes of metal, some touched by rust.

   At Gosel's direction several of these were opened and their contents
displayed. It was a strange mixture of objects. There were more of such
gems as lay in the fountain basin or used to adorn the rags the Hassitti
wore. Also there were rods with bulbous encrustations on their sides, and
rolls of what she thought might be the cured skin such as was used for the
inscribing of formal documents among her own people. Again she was
given no time for touching or lengthy examination.

   Several rooms were so crammed with things that one could only look in
from the doorway. The lamplight did not stretch far enough to let her see
what objects this clutter might conceal—save that many pieces were big
and bulky.

   Kadiya began to believe that either those who had once dwelt here, or
perhaps the Hassitti in a desire to preserve all that was left, had emptied
other buildings to transport their contents here. It would take her days to
make sense of it all, if that could ever be done. Still curiosity bred
excitement and she felt that stir of blood which made feverish the hunter
of treasure. Here was such a rind as the Ruwendians had never known
existed.

  They came at last through the maze of rooms and hallways into a
courtyard. Here was another fountain in play and the fresh air of the outer
world.

   For the first time she could view clearly all those who had accompanied
her. Most of them wore some kind of drapery, scarves heavy with bits of
jewelry, or a few long tattered robes. Their own scaled skins gave off an
irradiance similar to some of the jewels they wore, glinting green, blue,
red, orange in the daylight. They were all of a size, standing just to the
height of her shoulder. There were no smaller ones suggesting offspring
among them.

   Now those who had carried lamps blew them out. They broke apart
from the tight escort group, some pressing forward to bend heads and
protrude their long tongues to suck up the fountain water.
   Though there was no sun overhead, Kadiya was suddenly aware of the
passing of time. Jagun would have wakened, found her gone, be seeking
her. The hunter had skills which would aid him to follow her through the
city, since she had not tried to conceal her passage. But there were
dangers such as the vine which had attacked her, and certainly she must
not allow Jagun to remain in anxiety about her.

  She could identify Gosel by scarf ornaments and now she went to the
Speaker, striving quickly to form a mind picture of the Nyssomu hunter.

  "My battle comrade—he will be seeking me."

   "Already the swamp paddler has come," Gosel replied calmly. "He is
safe caught in the maze. Is it your will that he be free?"

   Were the Hassitti and the Oddlings enemies? Kadiya remembered
Jagun's reaction to the wall drawings. Had he known of the Hassitti but
for some reason wished to keep them secret?

   "He is my good friend! Let me go to him!" There was the sharpness of
an order in her voice.

                        Chapter Five

  HOW MUCH DANGER DID JAGUN FACE?

   Again her impetuous lack of thought had drawn another into trouble.
Would she ever learn? Though the Hassitti could scuttle at a swift pace,
Kadiya was impatiently pulling ahead of Gosel, needing at last to slow to
allow the smaller creature to catch up with her.

   They were followed again by a stream of Hassitti. The cackle of their
speech was echoed from the larger walls as they went—not reentering the
building in the direction from which they had come but along a lengthy
corridor, the roof of which had been inset with transparent squares
yielding a dim, greenish light.

   The passage curved and Kadiya was sure they were angling back
toward that outer square where she had found the fountain of jewels. But
they did not emerge there. Rather the curving hall became a ramp
slanting downward. The lighted patches on the roof disappeared.

   Though shadowy dusk crowded in, it did not seem to affect any of the
Hassitti. None of them carried lamps yet went confidently ahead.
However, Kadiya was uneasy and her own pace slowed. Her companions
had shown her only good will but their welcome might have been a sham.
They had admitted that Jagun was somehow captive. Had they so easily
also ensnared her because of her recklessness?

   The down slope ceased and the pavement underfoot ran straight.
Kadiya stumbled, for the dark was almost complete, and she knocked
against one of the Hassitti. Her free hand was caught in a grip of
rough-coated claws. For a moment she tried to free herself but a hard jerk
availed her nothing.

  "Great One—we take you. It is safe—

   Kadiya felt herself flush in vexation. She had so quickly and easily
betrayed her unease. One faced the unknown with at least a shell of
composure.

   Still there were no lamps. Now she strode hand in hand with this scaled
alien through a blackness so solid to her sight that it was as if a pocket of
tangible darkness had entrapped her.

   Her guide pulled her toward the left leaving her no recourse but to
follow. The chittering speech of the others had ended, but the girl heard
the constant scrape of clawed feet on stone.

   Then—light ahead, such a burst of it that Kadiya's eyes could not take
the explosion of raw color. She put her hands up to shade her eyes and
tried to peer between the shelter of fingers at what waited ahead.

   A giant tire might be filling a space as great as that audience hall which
must now lie far above. Yet the shooting flames were not vertical but
horizontal, sweeping from left to right in constant movement. Also they
were not just red and yellow. There were crackling passes of blue, purple,
green, and brilliant eye-punishing white. They would flicker, leap, hold
steady for a moment and then be gone.

  The Hassitti had drawn her out on what seemed to be a ledge, as far as
her light-dazzled eyes could tell. Before them those lightning strikes of
violent color skimmed, leaped, swung above some huge space which was
below the level on which they stood. Though many times one of the spears
of that strange conflagration would soar into the air, none of them
approached, or struck near the ledge. Nor did Kadiya feel any sensation of
heat.

  "It is the maze." Gosel's explanation formed in her mind.

   There was no pattern to that furious play of light beams. Were not
mazes supposed to be a collection of pathways which led into one another,
or into dead ends, unless one knew the secret? Sheltering her eyes as well
as she could Kadiya strove to distinguish such pathways. There was only
that light in constant searing motion.

  She turned on Gosel. "Where is my comrade? What have you done with
him?"

  The Hassitti made a gesture at the place of colors.

  "He is there."

  Caught in that"! Kadiya's hot anger brought her two steps nearer to the
edge of the ledge. But how could she find him?

  "Get him out!" She snapped an order.

   Gosel's hands moved in a gesture which plainly suggested helplessness.
The Hassitti was looking at her oddly. Now it dropped forward, the scarf
swathed head turning at what must be a painful angle in order to still see
the girl.

  "Great One, there is no way—

   That light burnt away sight instead of flesh. Jagun, whose people were
bred in the murky swamplands where frequent mists curtained much of
the land, what must be his present torment? If she suffered now from
those lightning-like flashes, how much worse it must be for him.

   "There must be a way!" Kadiya said to herself and her bared teeth
aimed the comment also to the Hassitti.

  "Great One," Gosel answered, "the ways are closed save to those with
the Power."

   Power? Her hand went to the amulet at her throat. She thought of the
orbed sword. Two powers—keys to this?

   But first she must know, be sure that Jagun was here, gain some idea
of the direction in which she must search. Kadiya opened the pouch at her
belt and rolled into the palm of her hand a hollow reed slightly over finger
length. It had been made for Nyssomu use, but she had employed it
successfully before. She would do so again. The girl handled it delicately as
it was so small. Lips about the one end, fingertips just so on certain
patterned holes along the length.

   Kadiya blew a series of notes not unlike the tinkle of the crystals which
the Hassitti used. There was no roaring from the flames which laced the
space before her. Could that call intended to alert another hunter carry to
Jagun?

   She sounded the flute again and varied the sound with notes which
increased the summons. There was silence from the Hassitti. Were they
sure that she had failed?

  For the third time she blew the call.

  Faint— Yes, she was sure! There was an answer.

   She had already discarded her first plan for venturing into that maze.
Could it not be that she could draw Jagun out this way, bring him to her
even as one hunter called another to join on a fresh game trail? They had
done this during the past fighting, gathering in squads of Oddlings to join
a central force when it was necessary.

    Kadiya held that call steady, resenting the need to halt now and then to
flip the moisture from the tube. But she was sure that each time an
answer came it was louder.

   Again the summons sounded. Her eyes smarted from the constant
assault of the raw color before her, but she could not shade them now.
Tears gathered as she strove to look into that maelstrom, to hunt for a
glimpse of Jagun.

  The flute notes rose and fell. How long had she called? Her fingers had
stiffened into the pattern of the holes. Now, deep breath. Once again—

  Out of a band of scorching orange staggered a black figure which did
not belong in that sea.

   Kadiya thrust the flute into her purse and threw herself belly down on
the ledge. The Oddling was below, weaving back and forth as one drained
of blood or so wearied that his body resisted his will. Kadiya wriggled
forward until her head and shoulders projected over the edge. She felt a
heavy weight on her legs and glanced back to see through the mist of her
strained sight: two of the Hassitti had stationed themselves to hold her
body safe against the stone.

  "Jagun!" Kadiya raised her voice and reached down.

  He was reeling, his head hunched forward so that he stared at his feet,
perhaps his only protection against the clash of color.

  "Jagun!"

   He half fell, to come up against the barrier which formed the
foundation for the ledge. He raised his head and looked up to her. His eyes
were mere slits and from them dribbled thick drops of mucus. His hands
raised to link fingers about her wrists, while her grip tightened in turn.
Now she began to edge back giving all her strength to drawing the
Oddling up and out of that trap. Claw hands had seized upon her, were
aiding her efforts.

  She was well back from the edge now and Jagun's head and shoulders
were rising into view. Hassitti scuttled forward, grabbing at the Oddling.
Kadiya felt the strain end as they pulled the hunter to safety.

   Jagun lay unmoving, facedown, and she hurried to roll him over. His
mouth gaped open and he moved limp in her grasp. Fear struck Kadiya.
Somehow she hoisted him up, both of their backs to that swirling
maelstrom, his head resting against her shoulder. She was not even sure
he was breathing now. What torment he had undergone in that maze she
could not guess— Oddlings might even find it fatal.

  "You—" She looked to Gosel. "What have you done?"

  The Hassitti was at her side, muzzle pointed down toward the Oddling
as if sniffing.

   Did the creature even understand? Kadiya strove to find a pulse in the
Oddling's neck as she steadied him against her. There was the sharp scent
given off by his kind at the height of fear.

   "Get him out!" The order was more for herself than the Hassitti. But
how? Though Jagun was smaller than she, he was no lightweight and the
long passage they had followed to come here was more than she dared
attempt while carrying him. Carefully she laid him back upon the
pavement and then turned and grabbed at one of the trailing shawls worn
by a nearby Hassitti, jerking it from the creature's shoulders.

    Kadiya flapped that down on the pavement. Her own eyes burned and
smarted, but she was able to do this much. Spreading out the shawl she
lifted Jagun onto it. The length of material was thicker in her hand than it
looked. She had reversed it so that the many fastened ornaments were now
on the bottom side and she was able to move Jagun onto a fairly smooth
surface. Taking her own belt she made the hunter fast, pulling the shawl
around him as far as it would go and then securing it. That done she
gathered up the end of the length she had left loose.

   There was not enough of the stretch to allow her to stand upright.
However, what she could do she would. Only now claw hands caught that
drag for the improvised travois she had made and Gosel mind-spoke:

   "We will take the swamper—

   "You have done this to him!" Kadiya flashed. That warmness of feeling
which had been with her since she had first seen the Hassitti had
vanished. Trust them with him now? Not while she still held hope he was
alive.

   "He came without peace words. He is Oddling, not Noble One, and the
maze was made to catch comers who are not of this place," Gosel
returned. "We can help him—if the Noble One wants this swamper, we will
aid."

   Four of them had fallen in about the wrapped hunter and now their
claws caught in the shawl roll and lifted. Kadiya retreated a step. They
were swinging him up off the ground in a way she could not have
managed, and they had already moved toward that opening through
which they had come into this place. Now she felt the scrape of rough
scaled skin on her own wrist.

  Gosel was beside her, urging her on. She followed, but kept her still
punished eyes as well as she could on Jagun and his bearers.

   The journey back was long. Some of the Hassitti left to scurry on at a
faster pace. But the rest remained, for Jagun's bearers changed at
intervals. During each halt, Kadiya tried to find some sign of life in their
charge. At the second such test there was a faint stir of breath against her
hand.

  "Jagun?" She mind-sought as she had done with the Hassitti.

  A whirl of color, punishing pain—and through that something else
which bit sharply at her. He had been concerned for her. It was fear for
her which had brought him into this.

  Kadiya fought now to reach his scattered thoughts. "It is well, warrior. I
am here, there is no danger.

   That might not be the truth but she was going to hold to that as long as
she could. Then she heard the scrape of feet and two more Hassitti joined
them. One of them had lengths of what looked like large, half pulped
leaves, and the other carried a flask.

   These burdens the girl could see clearly for another trailed them with a
lamp which swung on chains. Once more their fellows made room around
Jagun. Kadiya refused to give way, kneeling beside the Oddling. He was
visibly breathing, but his eyes were closed, seemingly caked with a
yellowish discharge.

   The Hassitti carrying the leaf lengths laid them carefully beside Jagun
as the one with the lamp leaned forward to give better light. Their
companion snapped up the cover on the flask.

   Into the underground musty smell of this deep way spread something
Kadiya knew well. This was the very breath of the garden—that perfect
place of serenity and peace. Claw fingers doubled and scooped, bringing
up a greenish jelly, and the scent of healthy growing things was
strengthened.
   Dropping to the floor, the flask bearer swept those burdened claws back
and forth across the shortest of the leaf lengths, coating it thoroughly and
thickly.

  It was the first of the newcomers who took command of the operation
now. This one was so shawl-bedecked that the creature seemed at first to
have some trouble in freeing its hands as it reached for the laden leaf.

  "Tostlet comes to aid." Gosel flashed that to Kadiya almost as if he
expected her to refuse their attendance of the Oddling. "She is learned in
healing."

   A wisewoman-healer? Why not; each race no matter how different
must have those taught to aid. Though the girl still could not tell the
difference between male and female as far as the Hassitti were concerned,
she had come to believe Gosel was male.

    Tostlet poked a claw into the mass on the leaf. She apparently approved
the preparation, for she picked up the length, and, with infinite care,
placed it over Jagun's eyes—or rather the whole upper part of his face. He
struggled against the belt which held him on the improvised stretcher, as
if he would push it away. However, Tostlet with the aid of another raised
the Oddling's head and bound the coated bandage in place with the rest of
the leaves which they slit into usable strings as they worked.

   The lamp bearer again leading the way, the party began once more the
long journey to the upper regions. But not before Tostlet had spread a dab
of the jelly on a remaining bit of leaf and held it out to Kadiya.

   "For the eyes, Nobel One," she urged and the girl did make use of it,
dabbing as she went. The whirls of light which had continued to flash
before her at intervals faded, as did the smarting. She was sure that, had
she been caught in the midst of the maze, she might well have gone blind
from the fury of those beams around her.

   At length they came into the upper reaches of the city, out into that
second courtyard with its fountain. It seemed to Kadiya that the day was
darker. Was it her sight suffering even though her eyes no longer hurt?
What would it mean to be without sight, lost forever in the darkness? Her
thoughts shivered.

  Jagun was set down by the fountain. His head turned from side to side
now and he was moaning.

  "Dark—hurt—I thirst— ' Those words, even in Oddling speech, she
knew. Kadiya hurried to the basin, cupped her hands to scoop up water.
There was a touch on her shoulder. Someone who stood beside her held
out a goblet as richly begemmed as that from which she had drunk the
guesting draught.

  She dipped it, filled it, and was instantly on her knees beside Jagun, his
head braced up against her as she held the edge of the goblet to those lips
beneath the leaf mask.

   "Drink, shield brother." She used the Oddling speech as best she could,
though none of her race could form the sounds fully.

  Jagun obeyed. Again he tried to move his hands and Kadiya, still
holding him up, gestured to the nearest Hassitti to loosen the belt. The
hunter's hand groped upward through the air until his fingers fell on
Kadiya's wrist and tightened there.

   "Farseer"—this time he spoke in the trade language—"is it you in truth?
Are you, also, caught in this place of many heatless fires?" There was an
urgency in his demand which she was quick to respond to.

  "Comrade, we are free of that place. Once more we are under sky.
Drink: this is water, clear as it seldom is afar from the isles."

  Drink he did, then both hands went to the bandage across his eyes. But
Kadiya caught the nearest and held it still.

  "Not yet. comrade. This is healing for the lights."

  He turned his head a little against her shoulder. She saw his flat
nostrils expand as when they were on the hunting trail, as if he could sniff
out any intruder.

   "There are others here." He used the trader tongue and his voice had
dropped to hardly above a whisper.

  "There are those who brought us both forth from the place of lights.
They call themselves Hassitti."
   She could feel the instant tension of his body.

   "Hassitti—

   Then she caught the mind speech and Gosel was there. Could Jagun
"hear" that also? It seemed as if the Hassitti expected him to.

  "We are those who wait, swamper. We wait even though your kind
would have none of waiting and went forth on paths of your own
choosing!" There was accusation in that.

  "Hassitti." Again Jagun spoke the name aloud. "But such are of the
Dark tales—

   "Swamper!" There was rising anger in that. "Never did we hold with
the Dark! We were of those who served, who were left in trust! When you
went off to your mud and murk, we remained."

   Jagun turned his head a fraction more so that his bandaged cheek
touched Kadiya's breast.

   "Farseer, take into mind the pictures of these so that I may see."

   She lifted her head a little so that she could stare straight at Gosel,
building a mind picture of this one who appeared to be the leader of these
creatures.

   "Soooo…" Jagun made the word a hiss, "the very ancient tales are then
the truth. But how can that be? For it was said that such went with the
Vanished Ones who had an odd taste for their companionship and would
never have left them behind."

  "We chose to stay." Mind speech answered him. "For we were of the last
ones, those whom the Guardians knew. And—" For a moment Kadiya was
wracked by a feeling of such pain and longing that she nearly flung up an
arm as she would have warded some blow.

    "And, when those who closed the way and held against the Dark finally
fell, we were left. We knew that it could not end that way. Greatness does
not die, it can rise again. See, did we not have the truth of that, for here is
this Noble One returned even as we dreamed it!"
   "Jagun"—Kadiya tried to settle him more comfortably— "the Hassitti
believe that I am one of the Vanished Ones, though I have told them it is
not so."

  "You have come to us"—Gosel looked straight at her— "and the dreams
were true. What is there to be done, Noble One, that you have returned to
your people?"

  Kadiya remembered the sword still planted in the garden. There had
been no release of that burden upon her return. What then was to come?

                          Chapter Six

   THE GRAY SKIES OF THE STORM SEASON still hung over the city,
though the fierce rains and winds did not beat within. More of the
Vanished Ones' magic, Kadiya thought.

   She stood at an upper window looking out over the somber rows of
buildings, though here and there the cloaking vegetation softened outlines
and curtained walls. This was not the palace of the great hall wherein she
had first faced the Hassitti, but rather a tower behind that hall to which
she had been escorted—and to which Jagun had been borne at her
insistence.

   There were furnishings of a sort here. Plainly it and the two other
rooms on this story had been a living suite for someone of rank, and the
Hassitti had worked to maintain it as best they could.

   A bed, oddly shaped to resemble a half shell (perhaps even its material
being formed of the crushed substance of such) stood on a round dais.
There was a short legged table with the same opalescent gleam. By that
was a pile of mats covered with richly stitched cloth, much faded but still
intact. Lamps with shell shades stood lit to battle shadows at the far side
of the room.

   The paintings on the walls were here all of a shoreline so finely depicted
that were it not for three windows which gave upon the real world, Kadiya
could have believed she looked out upon moving water. Along its edge
birds waded and beds of reeds grew all abloom with golden spikes of
flowers.
   There was a large chest also. This had been eagerly flung open by two of
the female Hassitti who had been among her guides, to display folds of
glitter studded fabric. In one small section lay necklaces, arm bands, and
other gem-set wear.

   Olla and Runna had insisted that this was all to be Kadiya's and they
had shown disappointment when she did not immediately take the
opportunity to change from her worn travel clothing into such proffered
splendor. The girl had brushed aside their suggestions, far more intent
that Jagun be established as comfortably as possible on a pallet of mats
where she could keep him under eye.

   It was only a short space ago that Tostlet had lifted the bandages to
inspect the Oddling's eyes. Moments later, Jagun roused to look at Kadiya
with the joyous exclamation she had half feared she would never hear:

  "King's Daughter, I see!"

   He had clutched forceably at her arm as she knelt beside him, drawing
her farther down. There was such joy on his face as she had never
witnessed before.

  "It is well, oh, Farseer, it is well!"

   Tostlet came in, a cup in her claws. "Let this one drink." She offered the
cup to Kadiya almost as if she believed that Jagun might not accept it
from her. "Drink, and sleep, for now only sleep is needed."

   Drink he did, as Kadiya gently pushed him back on the mats, his eyes
already closing. They still looked swollen and the flesh about them was
puffed.

  She waited until she was sure that he was asleep and then she sent the
Hassitti away. If they had indeed entrapped Jagun in that place of
punishing light, at least they had been willing to nurse him once he had
come forth. Her anger was gone. They might well have been only obeying
some archaic pledge when they sent Jagun, or allowed him, to enter the
maze. She could not fault them for that, not now.

   The maze itself awed her. To have set such a trap was far beyond any
learning she knew. Perhaps even Orogastus at the height of his power
could not have wrought a like defense. And how long ago had it been set
and empowered? If the Hassitti had not put it to use, had it been left so
even from the days of the Vanished Ones?

   Kadiya rubbed her hand across her forehead. So many questions, so
many puzzles. This day had made her more and more aware of how
ignorant she was. Haramis was Archimage. Magic was Haramis's concern,
not hers. Perhaps instead of seeking mysteries in the mountains her sister
should have come questing in the swamp mires.

   Wearily she left the window. It was night and all the fatigue and terrors
of the day had worn her down. She came to stand once more beside the
chest Olla had left open. On impulse she plucked out the first of the folded
materials lying within.

   It shook out in brilliant glory as she held it, the ends dripping to the
floor. Dripping because it was overlaid with a myriad of crystal drops,
some of which chimed together softly as the folds moved at her touch.

   The garment was not unlike those tattered robes Kadiya had seen on
several of the Hassitti, except this was pristine in its glory. It might have
been fashioned yesterday. The sleeves were long and full, gathered in by
crystal bands at the wrists. There was a complicated fastening partway
down the front where cords wove back and forth around knobby buttons
of crystal.

   In color it was white, yet the folds, as Kadiya turned it to examine it
closely, showed touches of other faint hues, as might be found in
iridescent interiors of shells. She held it up. Long—it had been meant for
someone taller—yet it was plainly wearable, not about to fall to pieces if
she did choose to don it.

   Making up her mind, Kadiya folded it over her arm, and, after another
glance to make sure all was well with Jagun, she went into the next
chamber. As in the outside fountains she had seen, a clear stream of water
issued from the mouth of a carven fish-like creature into a basin fully large
enough to hold her body.

   Kadiya laid the robe to one side, tugged at the fastening of her scale
mail. Then she caught sight of a figure to one side. Startled, she had
dagger in hand before she realized that she was gazing into the largest
mirror she had ever seen, one reaching from floor to roof. That miserable
creature she faced there was herself. From the wild mass of her tangled
hair, ragged on top where she had freed herself from the serpent vine, to
her water soaked boots, she looked worse than a polder laborer at planting
time.

   Quickly she discarded her swamp-stained clothing to settle into the
bath. The water was warm, even as it had been in the fountain. Kadiya
recognized the purpose of a row of boxes on a wall shelf at hand level, one
of the pleasures she had known in the Citadel after a long day swamp
exploring with Jagun. Here were stored squares of thick moss which,
when squeezed and wrung in water, left herb scented suds in her hands.
Kadiya washed away the traces of slime which had soaked through her
clothing and darkened her skin, and then attacked her hair, though the
suds stung in those places on her scalp where the vine had pulled.

   There was a towel of woven reed waiting and she dried herself
vigorously before she lifted once more that royal robe. Clothing of state she
had known all her life, had had to wear under protest at times. But in all
the treasures of her mother's wardrobe there had never been anything as
fine as this.

   It was too large; she had to take up her belt, clean it as best she could
with wet moss and wipe it dry in order to gather those crystal laden
lengths close enough. The sleeves she had to roll well up, and even though
she tugged much of the rest up through her belt the skirt trained out on
the floor and threatened to trip her. Kadiya turned again to survey herself
in that revealing mirror. And made a face at the reflection.

   Against the clear white her face and hands looked coarse and dark.
There was nothing to be done for her ragged hair except to hope that it
would grow out. Such finery did not become her. Yet, looking down at the
discarded clothing on the floor, she could not bring herself to shed the
glory of the robe and redon her own.

   In fact she did not even want the fine stuff she now wore to brush
against it. Still to leave it here in a tangle would not do. She would have to
find a way of cleaning it, of somehow sewing the tears, ridding it of all the
staining.

  Kadiya drew the garments together and carried them at arm's length
back to the outer room, laying them on a mat in the corner. Surely Olla or
Runna would be able to show her how to deal with them.
   Scattered mats of a soft cream-yellow were protection for her bare feet.
But the heavy belt across the fine stuff irked her and she went again to
rummage in the coffer, bringing forth a scarf of what seemed to be silver,
beaten silk-soft, which she twisted into a girdle. Her dagger she
transferred to that. For too long she had lived with it close to hand to
discard it now.

   There was a soft murmur of sound from beyond the slatted curtain
which formed the door. Hassitti—she could pick up their mind patterns,
even though she did not try to delve into their thoughts.

  "Come." Sweeping the length of the robe to one side so she could move,
Kadiya watched Olla enter bearing a tray with silver plates, and behind
her Runna carrying one of those lamps which gave forth the spicy smells.

  They both ducked their long-snouted heads in her direction as they
padded across to place their burdens on the table.

   Olla motioned to the table and then to Kadiya, her chittery voice like
that of a grass insect, low and somehow cheerful. Kadiya obediently took
her place (with some difficulty because of the bulk of the robe) on the
mats. It was Runna who hastened to help her spread out that entangling
skirt, while Olla uncovered two bowls and poured water into just such a
goblet as those Gosel and she had used.

    Again the food was fruit and a bowl of thickened soup-like substance,
but this time they had provided her with an overlarge spoon. Kadiya found
it good and she ate heartily, smiling and nodding her thanks to the
Hassitti.

   There was a curious dream-like quality to all of this. Kadiya ate and
drank. The spicy smoke from the lamp made a floating wisp in the room
as the dark increased and the smaller shelf lamps did not banish growing
shadows. When she had done and the tray was borne away by the Hassitti,
Kadiya went to sit beside Jagun. He was sleeping quietly but to be this
close to him brought back reality.

   The girl slipped fingers back and forth where the robe covered her
crossed legs. Certainly it was real to the touch, just as this room appeared
to be entirely solid.

  Yet she was uneasy. It was as if she had stepped into some action of
which she knew no detail at all. Before, her mission had seemed concrete:
to visit the garden and rid herself of her portion of the Great Talisman,
then to discover—to learn—as the mysterious veiled one had promised at
their meeting. But learn what? She could not now even begin to guess.

   Mage powers? No, those were for Haramis. Establish a swamp
kingdom? She reached for no crown, was no rival to Anigel. There was an
emptiness within her which she must learn to fill. But with what?

   At no other time had one of her kind been made so free of the mire
lands. Nyssomu and Uisgu had come to battle at her summons—or the
knowledge that she had raised the ancient strength had brought them.
The mires and their ways she knew as she believed no one else of the
Ruwenda blood could claim—even the most venturesome of traders.

  Yet this was a land of secrets upon secrets. Perhaps even a lifetime
could never make one entirely knowledgeable.

   The Archimage Binah had kept to her tower at Noth—yet she must
have known much. If in truth she was one of the Vanished Ones chosen to
be Guardian here—then all the past would be open to her, that tattered
past the Hassitti strove to hold together.

   Kadiya closed her eyes slowly and with determination. She had been
able to communicate with Gosel, know at least the surface thoughts of
others of his kind. Now, she wanted what she had come here to find: that
One who had promised her learning.

   Just as she had tried to govern her thoughts to reach the Hassitti, now
she strove to build up the mind picture of that figure which had been
largely a pillar of mist, to call—

   Kadiya tensed, but she did not utter the cry which had almost reached
her lips. She cut thought, shivered, her hands going unconsciously to cover
her ears.

  In her ignorant reaching she had touched something so dark, so full of
menace that it was like a blade rising to her throat. She opened her eyes.

   There were shadows in plenty. She made herself face each quarter of
the room in turn, search for the smallest hint of source of that threat. But
there was nothing. Only Jagun cried out and his hands beat up into the air
as if he warded off an enemy. Yet he did not rise nor open his eyes, and
Kadiya thought that he must still sleep, that what she felt must have
reached him as a troubling dream.

  Dream! The Hassitti had mentioned dreams, suggested that they had
been guided by them—

  Only so far had her thought traveled when there came a sound from the
doorway and she recognized Gosel by thought pattern as she might have
known him by face.

  "Noble One!" His mind send was imperative.

  "Come."

   He had bundled up his trailing shawl so that he might move the faster
as he burst through the door curtain.

  "Noble One!"

   To Kadiya's surprise and discomfort he dropped before her, one hand
reaching out, but not quite touching her robe's edge. Fear had come with
him, she could feel it. On the mat bed Jagun rolled his head from side to
side and gave a low sound which was not quite a moan.

   "There is a stirring—" Gosel stared up at her as if the very intentness of
his look could wring from Kadiya some answer he needed.

  "Quave has dreamed," he continued after a moment. "Deep dreamed.

   There is evil on the move—though where and how the dream did not
reveal. But Quave is sore disturbed. Noble One, use the Power and tell us
what comes and what we may do!"

  They would not listen, they still thought that she was of the Vanished
Ones. How could she make them believe she had no such powers?

   "Gosel." Kadiya tried to order her thoughts, to make them clear. "I have
told you—I am not one of those you think I am. My race has no great
powers…" She thought of Haramis and corrected herself. "Most of us do
not, and I am one lacking. A geas brought me here—who laid it upon me
and why I do not know. But—" She bit her lip.
  "When I was offered a crown, Gosel, I chose instead the mire lands.
Perhaps I did so believing that most of the Dark had departed out of the
swamps when we dragged down Voltrik and Orogastus. Yet I made that
choice and I hold to it.

   "In this place you have showed me a storehouse of knowledge which I
believe runs far beyond that my people ever dreamed of—yet it is not my
knowledge. I have wielded Power—but it was by the will of something
which stood outside the person who was Kadiya, daughter of Krain. You
must not be deceived. I cannot summon up thunderbolts, nor wrest the
very winds into my service. I cannot raise demons, nor call upon any
strange life to form guards for you or any of this land.

  "However, what I can learn, what I can do, that I shall."

   He was standing now, his head turned a little to one side so that the
lamplight drew a queer shadow against the curve of the shell bed.

   "Quave dreamed, Vasp dreamed, Thrug dreamed, and before them
there was Zanya, Usita, and Vark and more, back and back— Those who
once were shall come again. And what more should bring them than such
a stirring as Quave has shadow-seen this night? Only one who was meant
could come here. You have been before—you were seen. But then we knew
also that the time was not yet.

  "Now we ask it of you. Noble One: stand between us and what will
come."

   Kadiya sighed. She had done her best. And it was perhaps true that she
was doomed now to failure—but her old will stirred in her. To think of
disaster was to call it into one's presence. If the Hassitti would not accept
the truth she must do the best she could. But without knowledge of just
what she faced she was doubly at a disadvantage.

  "What manner of evil stirs?" she asked.

   Gosel shook his head. "It was not made plain to Quave—only that it is
old and dark. It has lain long in slumber—

   "Those who once dwelt here had records. If this thing was old, could
those not be searched?"
  There was a quick eagerness in the Hassitti's answer.

   "That can be done. Noble One. It is true that one needs a lamp to
search out what must be found. Also, the dreamers will try again! This
very hour they shall try!"

  With a swirl of his drapery he was gone.

   Kadiya had drawn her dagger. The reality of that cherished weapon was
an anchor in this world of dreamers and shadow threats. The records she
had seen in one of those rooms crammed with the memorabilia of the
Vanished Ones—could the Hassitti read them? She was sure that such a
task was beyond her own talents.

  "Farseer—

  She turned quickly to Jagun.

  "What may I do for you, comrade?"

   She saw his wide mouth shape a half smile. "It is rather. King's
Daughter, what I may do for you. These skitterers with their dreaming
and their hoarding of what they themselves do not know—do not let them
draw you into standing for them."

  "What do you truly know of these little people, Jagun?" she questioned.

   His smile was gone. "Farseer, very little. Until I saw them for myself I
believed that that knowledge was of the same stuff as swamp mist—or
even less. They are from the fashioning of the Vanished Ones, even as were
we of the Kin—and the Skritek—but they were said to have gone with the
Great Ones into the unknown. They were thought to have had no real life
apart from those others, whereas we were given the swamp mires to hold
and rule. They are not of our kind any more than the Skritek—though they
are not of the Dark as are those."

  "You have dreamed also, hunter."

  He was silent for a moment, and turned his head a little away from her.

  "Yes, I dreamed." She saw him shiver. "Though I cannot remember it
now. Perhaps all this," he made a motion with his hand, "is a place of
dreams. Farseer, we would be better out of it."

   Kadiya shook her head wearily. "I might say well to that—save there is
the sword. It remains, and while it does I am not free to go my way. But
you are not bound, Jagun."

  Now he looked straight at her and she felt shame for those last words.

  "Comrade," she hastened to say, "I would not have you away except by
your own choice."

  "Which I have made long since," he answered.

                       Chapter Seven

   KADIYA HAD LEFT ONE LAMP BURNING. Even in its subdued glow
she could see some reflections from the patterns on the robe she had
discarded in folds across the end of the bed. Within that shell hollow were
not the sleep mats she was used to but rather a fluff of stuff she decided
must be culled from the seed puffs of mak reeds, and into this nesting
apparently the occupant was supposed to burrow.

   She lay with her wrists crossed behind her head and tried to face
squarely what might lie ahead. This was a blind seeking, unless she could
find something in that mass of records she had only glimpsed when the
Hassitti had taken her on the tour of their storage rooms.

   She had never been a delver into old records, even if they were
inscribed in words she could read—which she greatly doubted. This should
be Haramis's task. Haramis—

   Kadiya's hands went now to the amber amulet at her throat. Cupping it
in both her palms, she closed her eyes and tried to reach her sister using
the mind speech. There was no touching, no sense of anything beyond. She
had had only a small hope that there would be.

   Yet the amulet fed a warmth to her hands, down her arms, into the very
heart of her body. Kadiya, clasping the amulet tight against her breast, no
longer struggled to use that which she did not understand. Instead her
thoughts drifted to the garden. In the morning she would go there—
   She awoke as suddenly as if she had been aroused to sentry duty. The
lamp still shone, a beacon against the night. Kadiya fought her way out of
the puffy fibers of bedding which had arisen like waves around her.

  Crossing the room, she discovered that even in that short time the
Hassitti had dealt with her traveling clothing. What could be cleaned had
been; what could be mended was. She could bear to wear it again.

  The summons which had brought her out of sleep still rang in her head.
Pausing only for a moment to assure herself that Jagun slept, she crept
out of the room.

   There was a faint radiance from below as if another lamp had been left
there. She descended the flight of stairs to ground level. There was a solid
door—the first she had seen—but it yielded to her push and then she was
out in the night.

    Once more she held the amulet in hand. Even as it had guided her
moons ago to Binah's tower, so now was it aglow. That spark of light
within wreathed the tiny Black Trillium, waning and waxing as she swung
it carefully this way and that.

  Binah's birth gift was of the magic of the Vanished Ones. In this, the
heart of their territory, she believed it could be trusted anew. Obeying the
impulse with which she had awakened, the girl moved off through the
mists of the night. She divided her attention between what she held and
what lay about her, remembering very well the vine trap.

    Though she could see but little as she went, Kadiya was certain she was
beginning to retrace the ways which had brought her here. And she was
not surprised when at last she stood again before the garden stairway with
its silent and motionless Guardians.

   Then she was among the columns, looking down to where the sparks of
insects wove patterns between bloom and bloom. The perfume seemed
stronger than even the spice lamps of the Hassitti as she descended the
inner stairway. One of the sparks, a vivid blue-green, swung toward her,
hovered for a second or two over the amulet as she held it outstretched.

  "I have come." Kadiya spoke aloud. She had moved to stand beside the
sword which still stood planted and unchanging.
   Yet—something had changed. Ever since the blade had come again into
her hands after its service as part of the Great Power, the lids had
appeared locked tightly in place over the three eyes. Now they showed slits
as if about to lift.

   Kadiya shrank from touching the talisman even as she knew that she
had no choice. She stooped and closed hand about the blade just below the
pommel. It came loose easily from the earth, as if it leaped of its own will
into her grasp.

   A burden she did not want, yet one she must bear. Kadiya held it up for
a closer sight. Yes, the eyes showed slits. Hurriedly she sheathed it, having
no desire to awaken the Power which lay within. There was no feeling of
any threat here; she could not believe that danger lurked now.

  However, she was not rid of that geas-born burden.

  Kadiya retraced her way as far as the steps. She sat there, watching
mist flow in the garden. Though near middle night, she was able to pick
out bush, tree, plant. Once more, longing a pain in her, she held out both
hands to all which grew there, all that might ever come…

  "Tell me—let me know what wills this? Binah set one geas upon me.
Who would use me now?"

   There was a rustle, a swaying of branches she could only half see. Spark
flyers shot toward each other as if they were frightened and would face the
danger in a body. Kadiya held her breath for a long second, sure that the
one she had met before would appear.

   But all she could see was the passing of the wind in the branches, the
clustering of the sparks. Then those broke apart, whirled each on its own
chosen path as if what had disturbed them was gone.

  Anger rose in her, that same anger which she had known in the past
when she had met with frustration. This was like standing before an open
door and yet being barred entrance.

   Kadiya trailed back to the outer columns. Mist seemed to have
thickened since her previous passage. She could see the forms of the
Guardian statues only as shrouded figures. Yet as she descended the steps
she faced'one and then the other—even holding out the amulet, as if its
still steady glow could reveal more clearly those watchers. Once she went
closer to a form at her right, reaching out to lay fingers on the chill body.

  There plucked at her the belief that these statues had a meaning, one
which she must master. If she were only not so ignorant! That inner dull
anger was turning against herself.

   With the sword again in hand, Kadiya found her way back through the
silent city, once more ascended to the tower room. She had seen no
Hassitti during her travels and thought that perhaps they had some
quarters of their own in which they slumbered. Did they also dream?

   As she once more took to the bed she drew the sword from its scabbard
to rest it beside her. The eyes had opened no farther; neither had they
closed. The Power might slumber, but it had not gone.

   If any dreamed the rest of the night Kadiya was not among them. In
spite of her taking once more the sword, she was oddly more at peace with
herself. Jagun was on his feet again, sharing (to the unspoken but
nevertheless clear disapproval of Olla and Runna) her morning meal.

   The treasure house, or more exactly, the room in which she had seen
the many books and reading rolls, was foremost in Kadiya's mind. If she
knew more of the past perhaps she could sift out better what was needful
in the present.

    "Our Speakers have their time weavings," Jagun remarked when she
told him where she would search. "Some of the villages possess very old
rolls. But only the Speakers can weave and thereafter translate those. Such
knowledge seems to come by birth—for when a hatchling is of a proper age
it is tested. What to some remain a locked mystery is for others a
storehouse of knowledge."

   "What of you, hunter? These woven histories, are they clear to you?"
Since the Oddlings had their way of preserving the past, perhaps it was
based on some form of learning their mentors the Vanished Ones had
used. If so, Jagun's help would be invaluable. Somehow she doubted she
would find much aid among the Hassitti, for Kadiya had the impression
that they had relentlessly saved much they could not understand.

  "No, Farseer, my knowledge lies in other directions—the ways of the
beasts, of the swamp growth, of the seasons. I came to that knowledge, for,
as a hatchling, I was put to prenticeship with Rusloog who was one of the
greatest swamp travelers my village knew. Some other things I have
learned from your people since I dwelt in the Citadel and served the King.
But of these ancient mysteries which have to do with memories and
weaving—do not expect much of me."

  Kadiya pounced upon that. "You say 'much.' Then you have a fraction—

  Jagun squirmed a little and reached hurriedly for a goblet, drinking
down its contents as if he needed time to consider.

   "Farseer, the Speaker of my clan is one who wishes always to know
more. When I was a swamp runner and a hunter of old things, she showed
me what to look for among such finds. I can recognize some of the old
signs. That is all."

   "But that is something!" Kadiya put aside her emptied bowl of mush,
licking her spoon for the last particle. "There was much I could have
learned. But I did not like the hours spent in the mustiness of the library
any more than I relished those I was supposed to spend in the ladies'
bower seaming up pretty cloth pictures. Haramis had the learning, Anigel
the clever fingers; I had the swamp."

   The room of stored learning was daunting. Kadiya had merely glanced
into it from the doorway when the Hassitti had swept her through their
storehouses. When she had asked to be brought here for a second time
three of the small people had formed an escort, two of them bearing
lamps.

   To search would be a massive task—the worse because one would not
know exactly what to look for. The lamps from the doorway showed only a
portion of the chamber. What shelves the girl could see clearly were
crowded with record rolls—some in casings, some without—left to the
ravages of time and perhaps insects. There were piles of boxes against the
walls under those shelves. Sharing the already crowded space were
massive books such as she had seen several times brought back by traders
and eagerly taken by her father even though their contents might be
unreadable. The covers of these were slabs of wood and some were bound
about with metal clasps.

  Where to begin—and what did she really seek? Not the mysteries of
magic and strange lore which had been in Haramis's keeping—rather the
history of those who stored these records. They had magic but Kadiya
wanted to know more of them, of where they had gone and why.
Something told her that the dreamers who prophesied an evil to come
were tied with what had been, that the present was growing out of the
past.

  The Hassitti made no attempt to enter the room. They chittered angrily
among themselves when Kadiya took a lamp from one and handed it to
Jagun, reaching for the second for herself. They moved, almost as if they
would bar her way with their own bodies; but when she strode
purposefully on they drew to one side.

   She held the lamp high. Jagun went on to the nearest wall, his own
light picking out scrolls, boxes, and the dull metal fastening on books. Her
light was limited—just enough to show her that there was a table not too
far away (its top near covered with scroll boxes), before it a chair thickly
carved (dust lying white in the carvings).

   Here was a work place. Kadiya swung her lamp lower to illume that
surface. There was an empty hollow among the boxes, directly before the
chair. Yet a wink of light there caught her attention. A small tube of metal
stood upright in a pot. A single strip of parchment, now nearly as dark as
the surface on which it lay, was uncurled next to it. The worker here might
have been called away in the midst of a task.

   Kadiya swept a finger across the surface of that parchment, carrying
away a film of dust. There were marks to be seen—weaving lines such as
those which enhanced the wall of the first building they had entered.

  "Jagun," she summoned the hunter, "what do you make of this?"

   The hunter peered down at it, then ran one finger along beneath the
top line, as if tracing its path would supply a clue.

  "This," he reported a moment later, "is a sign for mountains."

  Kadiya was surprised. The mountains to the east and the north had
once formed the impenetrable defense for Ruwenda until Orogastus's
magic and the treachery of men had breached it, loosing death on the only
world she knew. Haramis had gone to the mountains to learn her powers,
had returned to them by choice to hone and augment further what she
had learned.
   Kadiya had seen the heights only at a distance when she had visited the
polders. There were inhabitants of those sky reaching lands, but none had
ever contacted the lowlanders, nor had men intruded upon them.

  "What else?" she demanded eagerly.

   Jagun chewed his lower lip as he held closer his own lamp. Suddenly
that jerked as if from an uncontrollable move of the hand which held it.

   "This!" His voice was urgent. He stabbed a finger down on another
point— one in wavering line which showed no individual words or letters.
"Evil… great evil. A warning!"

  Once more his finger traced the line and then he shook his head.
"Farseer, there is no more that I can read."

   "Someone was writing here," the girl mused aloud. "It was of
importance, I am sure. Then it was left laying openly… on purpose? To
warn any who came after? Mountains and evil—a foreseeing? Orogastus
had his hidey-hole in the northern mountains. He was a gatherer of
strange learning—he would even have gathered Haramis, had she willed,
because she might hold knowledge of things new to him. A forewarning
against Orogastus?"

    But to foresee so far into the future—was such a thing possible? Kadiya
had doubts of that. Therefore there had been once other evil in the
heights, one so strong that even the Vanished Ones must record a warning
of it.

   She turned on Jagun. "Mountains—you can read that sign. Let us look
for it here first."

   Such a small clue—how long would it take? And even if they found the
proper sign could it have a meaning if they were not able to read more
than that one symbol?

   "Farseer," Jagun said slowly, "you wear again the sword of harsh
justice. Perhaps that may afford us a search tool."

   Surprised, Kadiya put down her lamp to draw the sword, taking care
not to slip a hand over those slits of eyes. Eyes were for seeing—and that
top eye had the Power of the Old Ones. On impulse the girl swung the
sword pommel out over that strip of writing which had been so long lying
here.

  "Sssssaaaa…" Jagun hissed like a sal-snake.

   Kadiya kept firm hold on the sword. It had not resisted her grip but the
top eye had come fully open. A spot of light from it reflected on the long
strip.

   Parts of the weaving lines were changing color though the hues were
not sharp. There were greens with the darkness of likan pads, traces of red
which might have been the swirling of blood drops on water, a blue, and
there was a touch of violet becoming purple-brown, like pool muck.

   A weaving of which she could make no sense at all. It no longer even
resembled any writing that she could imagine.

  Jagun's large eyes were opened to the fullest extent.

  "Speaker's records!"

   "You can read these?" Kadiya was still hopeful. If this was Oddling
script, surely Jagun must know something!

   He now stood, hands spread flat on either end of that strip, his eyes
intent.

  "Place of the Sals," he said slowly. "Guard… danger…mountains."

  "Place of the Sals," Kadiya repeated. "Where does that lie?"

   He looked up at her and there was an expression close to awe on his
face.

   "It was once a village, but with the coming of the great-great rains it
was taken by the river. Those who dwelt there—they who survived after the
churning of the waters—built again elsewhere. Farseer, you have seen their
place— It is the village of my clan!"

  She remembered well her visit there, that place where the long houses
were built on piled platforms out in the lake. It was far, close to the Golden
Mire, down river, back through the Thorny Hell.
   Kadiya glanced at the surrounding litter. Perhaps this script was not
the only thing which could be unlocked by the eye. Lamp in one hand,
sword in the other, Jagun helping to unroll scrolls, and open such books
which looked as if they might be forced, she circled the table, held out the
pommel over those records piled closest. But there came no result, nor
could she see any familiar symbol. Jagun protested that he could do no
better.

   A stir from the door shattered their intent search. Gosel appeared and
with him Tostlet. Both of them held their tattered drapery close to their
small bodies lest they bring down some of those piles between which they
threaded a way.

   "Noble One." The thought brought Kadiya's full attention. "Quave has
dreamed again. There is a coming of the Dark. Summon forth your Powers
that nothing can reach here."

  Kadiya fronted the Hassitti squarely.

    "Gosel, I have no true Powers. This"—she held up the sword so that he
could see the three orbs on the pommel—"served my people well, through
me. Yet I do not know from whence its force comes, or if I can summon it
at will. To test it in open battle when I am so ignorant is to play the fool.
This is all it has done for us today." At her gesture Jagun picked up the
strip on which the script was so changed. "My battle comrade tells me this
is a recording of his people, but he is not one taught to read such. What
can you read in this place, Gosel?"

  The Hassitti stared at her.

   "Noble One, we are not those chosen to record. We"—his clawed fist
indicated the room—"have brought hither all which we have found for
safekeeping, but what may be among this we do not know."

  "Your dreamer," Kadiya said, losing what had been a very faint hope.
"What has the dream brought?"

   "Dark and dark. Noble One." Tentatively Gosel reached forward toward
the sword, though he did not put claw to its surface. The lid of the eye at
the top was up, it was almost as if that orb was studying the Hassitti.

  Gosel stared back. And then, to Kadiya's surprise, both of his clawed
hands came up, touching the Hassitti's own elongated face between the
eyes.

  "Noble One," his thought reached her. "This is a thing of Power which
we do not know, save that it is such that leads one to the doing of strange
and great things."

  Now he turned his head a fraction to view the strip Jagun still held.

  "If that was what it showed to you, then, Noble One, you must know its
meaning."

  Kadiya could have hissed like Jagun in her exasperation. She had no
answers for all her searching, only more and more questions!

   Very well, they had a message which had been left behind, translated by
the aid of the one thing she was sure carried with it what her people might
term "magic." This mentioned a long-ago village, storm-drenched into
nothingness, then reborn as Jagun's own. If nothing more concrete could
be discovered here, why waste time searching through these unintelligible
records of another race and people, having to listen to constant warning of
dark dreams?

   She could take their find to Jagun's home. Surely they must have fuller
records, something more helpful. Mountains, dark forgotten villages—if
there was any sorting out to be done it should be by action. That was
Kadiya's way of life. They must take their find to where it could be
translated into useful information.

                        Chapter Eight

   ONCE SHE WAS DECIDED UPON THE JOURNEY, Kadiya had to
withstand the arguments of the Hassitti. The little people were rooted fast
in the city and they seemed unable to think of anyone voluntarily
venturing out of it. She faced warnings and pleas which ate at her
patience. Once or twice she wondered if the Hassitti might even take steps
to detain them—perhaps using some trick such as the maze of light.

   However, Kadiya continued to draw upon her store of hard learned
patience, insisting that she must go. To her surprise she was suddenly
backed by the dreamers when she sat in council with Gosel and the other
Seniors.

   Quave was the leader of those sleep sages, a Hassitti whose eyes were
not bright buttons but rather veiled by a cloudy film as if he used other
means of sight. He was treated with great ceremony by his people. When
he came into the meeting one of his attendants carried a bowl, not of the
metal Kadiya had seen elsewhere but rather fashioned of some age
darkened wood.

   After Quave had settled in the seat Gosel hurriedly quitted, the bowl
was set on the table before him. He seemed to huddle there with his head
lowered, looking into the bowl's depths where a dark liquid was cupped.
His next move was so sudden that Kadiya was caught by surprise. The
Hassitti's paw shot out from beneath the edge of the thick shawl draped
about him and the claw digits caught at Kadiya's wrist where the girl's
hands lay on the board.

  That grip was tight enough to jerk her forward and Quave raised his
head so that the seemingly blind eyes fixed on her.

   "Dreams have come." Quave's words were sharp in her mind with a
demanding note. "Noble One, if you cannot dream—then look! Call upon
that which you need for your purposes!"

   Need for her purposes? Kadiya's thoughts were not in clear order. She
needed knowledge of a kind which was not common, which in the very
depths of her she dreaded. Who might have such knowledge? There were
wisewomen among the Oddlings—and there was Haramis!

   She stared down into the bowl, fastening her thoughts upon her sister,
striving to picture her in those depths as she had seen her last at the
Citadel.

   "Haramis—" she called the name aloud even as she also sought with the
inner thought.

   There was no stir of liquid in the bowl, but its dark surface grew
brighter from a spark in the very center, the dim radiance spreading out
toward the edges from the heart of light.

  The picture was not clear. Walls seemed to flicker in and out of being.
Along those she thought she could see books and scrolls stored, though
kept in neater order than the room she had searched here. There was a
table on which clustered flasks and jars, a pile of parchment sheets. She
who sat before those, pen in hand, was even less visible than her
surroundings.

   "Haramis!" Kadiya drew upon her will and energy to make contact with
her sister.

   That shadow which was Haramis suddenly raised her head as if
summoned, turned a little so that Kadiya could now see her sister full
faced. Lips moved in that face, the eyes peered as if the other strove to see
through some barrier.

   "Haramis!" The whole scene wavered and rippled as if the liquid mirror
in which she viewed it was disturbed. Then it was gone.

   "Who is this Weaver of dreams you strive to summon?" Quave loosed
his grip on Kadiya.

   "My sister, she whom the Archimage Binah chose to take her place as
sorceress and Guardian."

  "She is of great Power, this Haramis?"

   "Of us all she holds the Power the strongest," Kadiya answered. "I can
wield this," she touched the sword cautiously, "but I am not learned in the
ways of magic. That is why I must discover all which I can. I have no
dreams to warn or guide." She tried to erase the hasty tone from her voice,
to make Quave understand her real helplessness and through him these
others.

   For a space of several breaths the other did not answer. He made a
small gesture with one claw and the attendant who had brought the bowl
picked it up again.

   "This is possible," Quave's reply came at last. "We are not those who
deal with strengths as the Noble Ones knew. If you believe, One Who Has
Been Dreamed, that you must seek knowledge, then you indeed prove that
you are of the Ancient Ones—forever did they so." He pulled fussily at his
scarf and then looked to Gosel.
   "If this one must venture forth, then let aid be given. There is that
arising which will cloud the sky far darker than any storm we have known.
Noble One," now he turned to Kadiya, "there was evil in the past, and
those you know fought it. Evil arises again. Be careful in your seeking, step
lightly on any trail, and be ever ready with your eyes and this thing of
Power. Lately I, too, have dreamed. I think that something begins to
shadow us so that we cannot detect our danger."

   He arose and bowed his head to Kadiya. Feeling the force of personality
in this dreamer, the girl inclined her head in turn.

   So there was no more disinclination on the part of the Hassitti to help
them. Jagun displayed satisfaction over that. They would once more face
the fury of the storm and the trip down the Upper Mutar, daring again
passage through the Thorny Hell. However difficult it would be to travel
through the almost constant storms it would be better to go now than to
wait for better weather, for the force of wind and flood would keep a-den
many of the dangerous inhabitants along the way.

   They would need a boat and supplies, the latter easier to assemble than
the former. But at Kadiya's questioning, Gosel produced a strange,
skiff-like transport which could be used over both slimy mud and the river
water—or so Jagun pronounced, having inspected it carefully.

   The Hassitti had had other visitors through the years—or rather at a
much earlier time there had been unlucky explorers entrapped in the
ancients' defenses. Those had been victims of the city but their gear had
been harvested by the Hassitti to be puzzled over and then stored after
their usual pattern of preservation.

  Jagun admitted that the skiff-boat was unlike any he had seen but
some features of it pleased and excited him. He was eager to try it out—or
perhaps simply eager to leave the city entirely.

   They gained food supplies easily enough. The mush the Hassitti favored
could be fire dried. Fruit was pulped and put into sealed jars. And Tostlet
supplied a number of packets, trying hard to make Kadiya aware of the
value of each for both health and healing.

   Outside the gate, the lowering clouds were dark on the morning they
started. The skiff had been fitted with draw ropes which Kadiya and
Jagun manned as a team. The Hassitti massed at the gate to see them out
but the thick curtain of the rain soon hid all but the bulk of the ruins.

   As all hunters, Jagun had an inborn and well-fostered sense of
direction. He moved confidently forward, though burdened as they were,
their speed was hardly more than a walk.

   Kadiya had replaced some of her clothing which the rot of the swamps
had ruined, using woven stuff from the collections of garments the
Hassitti hoarded. She discovered to her satisfaction that in the most part
her choice had been good and several of the materials she had chosen were
actually waterproof.

   They had some way to go before they could reach the Mutar. Rainy
season though it was, Jagun was continually alert. Kadiya watched also for
those perils which were rooted, as well as the ones which crawled and
leaped through the slime path they needed to take.

   She was as ready with a short spear she had found in the treasure
chambers as was Jagun with his blow pipe when they were warned by a
sudden sickly odor. The thing which wriggled out of the mud just before
them was scaled, bearing twisted horns on a head which seemed too large
and heavy for its many legged body.

   Kadiya feinted, drawing the creature to the left, giving Jagun a good
shot at one of its bulging eyes. They had played this game before, though
the prey was new to the girl.

    With a dart protruding from its eye, the thing twisted and yellowish
ooze dribbled from its half open mouth. Kadiya struck the second blow
straight into that mouth, giving her spear a twist inward. The thing jerked
its head back, snatching the spear out of her hold, but it no longer
snapped at them. Its many legged coils beat into the slime and it churned
up mud to hide its dying body.

   When it had subsided to only quivering, Kadiya and Jagun cautiously
approached to free their weapons. But he also drew his belt knife to strike
at the root of the nearest fang, prying and working loose from the jaw first
one and then another of the fore teeth of the thing. Wrapping these in a
large leaf, he stored them in his pack. Kadiya guessed they would become
formidable heads for water spears.

  Other inhabitants of the mud gathered to feed on the dead monster but
these they had no trouble in avoiding as they left the patch of writhing wet
ground behind them.

   They made camp that night on a scrap of higher ground where a mat of
reed could be trampled to form a flooring for a shelter, the roof of which
was the skiff. There could be no fire in this muck of mud and wet. For all
her fatigue of body Kadiya was unable to settle into the nest of beaten
reeds overlaid with a travel mat.

   "Jagun— ' She knew that the hunter had not gone to rest either for she
heard the faint crackle of the reeds which betrayed restless movement.
The rain had paused for a while, a respite not to be counted on. "How
came your people to set up this far village of yours? You have said it is an
outpost of Nyssomu land. Was it because of this long-ago flood you spoke
of?"

   "Why we came north. King's Daughter? Well, that is a tale worn thin by
many seasons. It is said that our clan was always caught by a desire to see
beyond. More of us are hunters than is common in other villages. We have
a custom of far travel. It was that which brought me first to your father's
court. There I chose to stay because I was curious about your people and
what led them to do this and that which were not of our customs. I
became a hunter for the court as you know—

   "Yes!" How well she could remember other days, and the time she had
first seen Jagun. He had with him two inton killings to whom he had
taught simple tricks—simple and yet enough to amaze all who watched
him exhibit their learning, for intons were shy and very seldom seen.

   "There were Issa and Itta," she named them out of memory. "Then you
guided the traders into the Dark Ways and they brought back many ral
shells and the skins of voor."

   "Which triple fingers count of my clan mates could as easily have
done," he replied. "But there was also this. The Speaker of my House, as I
said, is interested in strange knowledge. To her I sent much I had learned
in the Citadel and during my wanderings. For this we were given clan
credit so that those of my close kin stand well at the Great Speakings.

   "This I did gladly for to me also there is a need to learn what many have
forgotten or never have known. Now I have even more to add to the
records." Kadiya detected the satisfaction in his voice.
  "These Hassitti—their dreamers—speak of great evil." She mused.

   "Farseer, the swamp is a ruin-broken land and it was formed so by ill
design. That evil walks in it is as natural as the formation of seeds on a
whittle vine. We have had our taste of what evil can do; we know that
trouble may rise again—

  "Those of Labornok?"

   "There is a Queen now of your land and that land and she shared your
own birthing, Farseer. Also she was one who helped to wield the great
talisman."

   "And Orogastus is dead. Also Voltrik," Kadiya said slowly. "Haramis is
Guardian—but she has gone afar. Binah chose to dwell in Noth, which was
part of the mire lands, but my sister has gone to the mountains. And it is
in the mountains that danger lies… Jagun, in all your wandering have you
ever looked upon the western mountains? Who or what live there?"

   "Farseer, your wondering is like mine. No, I have never been that far
into Uisgu land, which laps the mountain bases. Nor has any hunter of my
clan whose records I have seen. Now, seek sleep. King's Daughter, the first
watch will be mine."

   Reluctantly Kadiya settled herself, but she was thinking of Haramis and
that half cloaked sight of her sister which the Hassitti dreamer had shown
her. Haramis had spoken of the Vispi, rulers of the snow and ice of the
heights and for the most part invisible to any venturing there. Did
Haramis have one of those to be her companion and support even as
Kadiya had Jagun, or was she alone? Kadiya shivered. To be alone… that
she could not have wished for Haramis. From childhood she herself had
sought swamp ways. In the stricter confines of the court she had always
been impatient that she was not in some fashion what she was meant to
be. The Oddlings were her friends far more than the courtiers. Now a
small spark of thought stirred. Would she ever find the mires lonely
because she was not of their breeding? It was a question which had never
troubled her before.

   The rain had begun again; its steady drum against the skiff over their
heads was loud. Stirring restlessly on her swamp scented bed Kadiya tried
to push away thought. At last the blankness of deep sleep came.
   When Jagun awakened her she sat, the sword balanced across her
knees, staring into thickness of falling water. There could be no detection
by eye in this dark, nor even by ear, with the constant sound of the rain.
Awkwardly she loosed that other sense she had learned to use. mind
searching for signs of life about them.

   There were the flickers of small things, not intimidated as the larger
populations were by the rain and mud traps. All Kadiya could gather from
those fleeting touches were sensations of hunger and the need to fill
protesting bellies; the completely centered mind of a predator hot on the
trail. Otherwise the world about might have been devoid of life.

   The girl became aware slowly of something else. The trillium amulet
she had worn since birth was warm. When she drew it out from under her
waterlogged jerkin, she saw a small gleam in its heart, a circling of pallid
light around the opened flowerlet caught there. On impulse she raised it,
touching it to her forehead just below the banding of her braids.

    Certainly there was heat there. Something else too: a pulsing. That
trapped inner flower might be breathing as would an animal. There had
been life in her talisman before. It had served as a true guide when she
had sought Binah. If she only knew more about what aid it might give!
Haramis was the one with Power—she had fashioned the talismans using
all they had won into such a potent weapon. Kadiya ran her hand along
the pointless blade of her sword, careful not to finger the three eyes. This
was her Power and she had killed with it. Must she do so again?

   It was still a cloudy, twilight dark when they started in the morning.
Jagun tested the footing ahead with the butt of his spear, striving to mark
those treacherous pockets of mud which could engulf the unwary, and it
was necessary to make many detours. This day they slogged doggedly
ahead, not troubled by any peril save what the countryside itself might
offer. In Kadiya's amulet the light continued to glow, a beacon against the
gloom of day and thought.

   When at last that journey to the river was finished, with near four days
of hard travel behind them, Kadiya drew a deep breath of relief as she
followed Jagun's orders helping to launch the skiff.

   The current ran swift from the storm. Jagun had shipped a long
steering oar and kept strict watch. Having no need to paddle, Kadiya
crouched near the bow, widening her mind sense as far as she could.
Life—there was enough of that—but she picked up no trace of anything
really threatening.

   They had put ten days' travel from the city behind them when they
came to that lake which surrounded the long pier which supported the
houses of Jagun's clan. The waters of the lake were much higher than
Kadiya had seen on her first visit there. Much had changed with her and
with the outer world since that day when she had dared to break the
custom. As a fugitive with a price that cried aloud for her capture, she had
sought out the Nyssomu in their own place, come to appeal for help
against a common enemy. Yet, save for the water now washing higher
against those platforms, all appeared as it had then.

   As before, their arrival was announced by hidden sentinels. The whistle
of greeting seemed still to echo as the craft in which Kadiya rode bumped
the pile-supported walk of the center longhouse.

   Again four of the Nyssomu women waited, seeming insensible of the
rain which washed the painted patterns from their cheeks and slicked
their robes against their bodies. Two of those women Kadiya recognized.
What would be their greeting now?

   Jagun bowed his head. "Greetings, First of the House. Safe may all be
in the sight of Those Whom We Do Not Name."

   The Nyssomu woman eyed them for what seemed to the weary Kadiya
to be an inordinately long moment before she made the formal answer:

   "This roof be over you, hunter, and you, King's Daughter, who comes to
us again."

   Kadiya replied first with the gesture of respect she had learned long ago
in Trevista when she had first taken to swamp running.

  "I, Kadiya, wish all within well." She fitted her muddy palm into that
which the woman held out to her.

   The Nyssomu smiled. "Well be with you at your coming. King's
Daughter. We have heard of what you and yours wrought afar, bringing
down a great evil. We were battle kin there and so shall we be peace kin
here." Then her smile vanished and she stared up into the girl's eyes as if
she could read there some message.
  "There is trouble in your heart. This kinhold welcomes you, who have
chosen to come to us. All guest rights be yours."

   The women who stood at each door in the long hall bowed as the First
of the House led Kadiya to the room she so well remembered. Its luxury,
though strange, was much cherished by one just out of the mud and
floods.

   Kadiya bathed, remembering that other time when what these friends
had offered had in a small way eased her sore heart even as their lotions
and oils had eased her body. She had fled blood and fire and such
monstrous cruelty she would not have thought possible. Her world had
ended in a single day and night and there had been nothing to hold to
except her will and the need for vengeance.

  The soft fistful of soap, which she dug out of a shell set conveniently
near, stung her scalp where the hair had been torn but that was only a
small discomfort. She relaxed in the water and allowed all the peace and
comfort which was Nyssomu-born to flow into her again.

   She swathed herself in one of the fringed robes they had ready and
combed out her wet hair with a fishbone comb. The scent of the bath
petals clung to her still damp skin and she was grateful for this small
escape from the swamp smell.

   The six clan heads who formed the Council of the First gathered as they
had upon Kadiya's first nervous appearance before them. She settled
herself on a cushioned stool to face them. A younger woman brought the
hosting cup and each drank in turn, Kadiya very careful to drop to the
floor the customary libation.

   "King's Daughter, I have seen you bear trouble with you as a burden.
But there has come to us no tale of armies astir—not since the return of
those of us who were a part of the victory when that dark overmountain
king and his evil mage strove to grind us underfoot. You wear that"—she
pointed to the amulet on Kadiya's breast—"and carry that"—and now the
finger indicated the sword the girl had laid down at her feet. "Both live.
Thus, we are not yet done with trouble, after all. What new king arises to
ravage our land?"

   Kadiya hesitated and then decided that the story would best serve in its
entirety.
   "No king crosses our borders. Speaker. My sister Anigel wears the
double crown of the two lands now and rules in outward peace. However,
there is a warning that evil has not yet done with us—or else there is a new
force of the Dark come to test our strength, one spreading from the
mountains."

   So she began the story of what had happened since she had left the
Citadel driven by that inner pressure to travel to the garden of the sword.

                        Chapter Nine

    WHEN KADIYA SPOKE OF THE HASSITTI there was a stir among her
listeners. She who governed the household interrupted:

  "King's Daughter, you speak of legends."

   "Legends who live," Kadiya returned firmly. "Ones who consider
themselves Guardians of all left by the Vanished Ones." Now there was a
faint murmur among the Nyssomu women. One, Kadiya thought, not of
denial but of wonder.

  She plunged swiftly on to the adventure of Jagun in the maze of light
and saw the First shake her head.

   "Traps! So would they serve us, who were hands and feet in far places
for the Vanished Ones! That is not to be accepted!"

   Kadiya paused, then continued. "Lady of the House. I believe the little
ones were not the setters of such traps. Rather those were in place ever
since the Vanished Ones withdrew. It is the Hassitti claim that they are
the Guardians and protectors of all which High Ones left behind. Indeed
they seemed to have done their best to be so." She described the many
rooms with the stacked treasures within. Thus she came to the claims of
the dreamers and again she was interrupted.

  "These claim to catch dreams! And dreams that you say are dark
warnings.

  Danger from the mountains. But did we not just fight a war with some
who came over mountains? Surely they have not so risen again?"
  "Other mountains—not to the north, but the west," Kadiya answered.
"These dreamers of theirs are carefully listened to and believed."

  "And you seek knowledge of these mountains from us. King's Daughter?
Why? Our folk have no dealing with the heights beyond the mire lands."

    "I have come because of this." Kadiya opened the pouch of protective
silis skin which she had retrieved from among her belongings before she
began her tale. Now she unrolled the strip of patterned weaving which the
orb of the talisman had revealed.

    For a moment it seemed as if the First had no wish to touch it. Then, as
if forcing herself to some duty she disliked, the Oddling accepted the strip
to spread it wide across her knee. One of the others seated near her arose
and moved quickly to view it over the First's shoulder.

   Those lines which the orb had drawn into distinct view had not faded
into obscurity and could be easily seen. The First ran a fingertip along
them, as if touching the substance would make the message they bore
even clearer.

   Then she looked up as if to consult eye to eye with that other who had
joined her in inspecting the find.

   "First," it was that other who spoke, "the weave pattern runs true. This
is Nyssomu."

   "But," the First objected, "surely Old, Old. That which it speaks of is far
seasons behind us. In my mother's mother's day it was already near forgot.
Weaver, do we have a match for this record?"

   Slowly the other nodded. "Yes, there are three patterns like unto it. Two
of which it was needful to reweave during the last season of dry because
they were so old they were like to vanish.

   "There was such a message—that evil abode to the west but that it was
fast held there and such safeguards set upon it that the mires need not
stand to arms against it. The Vanished Ones set those bars. This one"—she
looked to Kadiya— "speaks of one of their other safeguards being still a
mighty trap. They had Power such as we cannot equal.

  "The Great Old One, Binah, had Power. You have touched that Power,
King's Daughter—or some part of it—for yourself. One of your heart's
blood, your sister, holds Binah's place. Still none can equal what the
Vanished Ones used and knew. We do not reach for such Power. It is not
in us to call upon that which is not born within our kind. In all the long
seasons since the Vanished Ones went from us, we have only studied to
hold our own people safe as we might. We have lived by the old Oaths, and
this place from which you have just come has been Oath-closed to us.
Perhaps that was because among us there might be born some so
ill-minded and reckless as to wish to reach for what was not theirs.

   "If evil stirs"—she had moved a little before the First, and there was a
sternness about her—"perhaps it wakes because there has been overmuch
of the old Power summoned during the moons just past. This sorcerer
Orogastus who dabbled in things which were forbidden, using the very
fires of the air for his weapons—how do we know that he did not overset
some balance of old, loosing what was thought to be forever laid?"

  The First raised her hand and her companion was silent.

   "King's Daughter, you have given us much to think on." She smoothed
the strip of weaving with the palm of her hand. "We have our records, kept
as well and securely as we can hold them. Because of this—this dreamer's
warning—because of that which you hold, unable to return to its
source"—she pointed to the sword—"we must believe that there is indeed a
stirring. You are given host-right here and kin-aid in what must be done.
Though we are a people who do not raise spear or send dart easily, yet
neither do we close our eyes and ears against warnings."

  "First, I give to you thanks. For some things it takes many hands. What
you have offered is good to hear," Kadiya replied.

   The women had risen and now they uniformly moved hands and head
in a formal gesture. Led by the First they filed out of the chamber. Then
there scurried in two young Oddlings who motioned for Kadiya to come
with them. They ushered her into what she thought to be a hosting
chamber for a visitor not of the kin.

   There food awaited her and she ate heartily, savoring the tastes of
dishes which she had learned from her early childhood ventures into the
mire with Jagun to enjoy. This was far different from the soft mushes and
pulpy fruits the Hassitti had given her and she relished the crisp crunch of
tender laka-reed roots.
   When the young maid came to take away the tray, she indicated the
piled reeds of the mat bed and raised invitingly one end of a well-woven
grass blanket into which had been entwined the fragrant dried stems of
flowers supposed to give good rest.

   Kadiya settled down on the mats and was about to draw the blanket up
about her shoulders when there came a soft call from the other side of the
door curtain. When Kadiya answered it was not the maid returning,
rather the older Oddling whom the First had addressed as Weaver and
who had taken part in Kadiya's interrogation.

   The Nyssomu held both hands well away from her body as she carried
an artifact. A stiff reed had been bent and worked into an oval. Within
that was a weaving of an irregular, open pattern of string fiber—like a
crooked web. From one side of the oval there dangled two reed cords
which had been colored, one green, one blue. These were not equal in
length, but the free end of each was bound about a tuft of feathers—these
of a metallic brilliance even in the subdued light of the room.

  "Have you seen this. King's Daughter?"

  "No, Weaver. What is this thing, one of Power?"

   "Indeed of Power. This is a dream web, a catcher set to protect against
evil visions in sleep. Since you have been told such are about, we shall be
wise and set these aloft."

   Holding the dream web in one hand the Weaver reached so far
overhead that she needed to stand on her toes to touch what she sought.
She pulled down a near invisible line to which she hooked her "protection"
so it hung free and twirled about, the feathered strings fluttering.

   The Weaver eyed it critically, gave a small tug to one of the dangling
lines which set it spinning again. Then she nodded briskly as one who
finishes a good job.

   "Sleep well. King's Daughter. You need not feel the evil touch of black
dreams now."

  Before Kadiya's thanks were half uttered the door curtain dropped
behind her. That lamp which had been left on a stool top flickered low and
Kadiya lay back under the fragrant covering. There was a twitch of
shadow against shadow in the dim light of the room. The dream trap was
still in slight motion. She wondered what the Hassitti dreamer would have
to say about this. It would seem that the Nyssomu were not as willing to
open themselves to meaningful dreams as were the dwellers in the city.

   Whether it was the fatigue which settled so heavily upon her that
pushed her into the depths of truly dreamless sleep, or whether the
protection worked, Kadiya did not know. She slid into a place of warm and
welcome darkness and was content.

   Where the library Kadiya had explored in the city had been a labyrinth
of f seemingly unsorted materials, the one she visited with the Weaver in
Jagun's village house was a model of neatness and a place of activity. The
Nyssomu woman who commanded that activity made no move toward
explaining much to her visitor and Kadiya quickly decided that the record
weaving was one of those guild-like mysteries jealously preserved by those
engaged in them.

   The looms were small and table mounted, much like those she had seen
used in Trevista for the production of scarves and ribbons. There were
three here, two of which were in use. The balls of spun reed and grass fiber
dyed a number of colors were in large spools to hand. Instead of shuttles
the Weavers used long threaded needles to set lines which followed no
pattern Kadiya's eyes could detect.

  By the third loom lay the strip she had brought and next to it a larger
spool on which a section of material nearly as wide as the ancient strip
had been wound.

   As the two younger Oddling women kept on with their work the Weaver
herself brought Kadiya to that middle loom and began to unwind, with
infinite care, the enspooled ribbon. A puff of motes arose as the coils
reluctantly yielded to her gentle pull and Kadiya believed that this was a
record which had been in existence for some time.

   Though the shutters had been tight closed against the intermittent
beating of the rain, there was enough light from lamps which swung from
the beams overhead for Kadiya to see the lines of different colors twine
and separate, become circles or patches at intervals.

   The Weaver unwound but a portion of the length. Then she reached for
the piece from the city and held it in one hand next to the weaving she had
loosed in the other.

    "This is the work of Jassoa who was Weaver a hundred seasons ago. It
is excellent work which has held well against all aging. Here there is an
account of the storms which overflowed our home site then. Also there is
something else…that there came a rumor from the Uisgu that they feared
a certain evil which dwelt upon their borders because there had been a
shaking of the mountains. Wind and rain had brought about a slippage of
ground from the heights—

  "Would that be considered evil drawn by intent?" Kadiya interrupted
and then added swiftly, "Your pardon, Weaver, I am too quick for proper
manners."

   The Weaver, whom she had thought far more dour than the First at
their earlier meeting, smiled a fraction.

   "King's Daughter, an eagerness to leam cannot be bound always by the
proper ways. No, to your question. A slippage which was storm-born
would not be an attack by evil. However, if that spillage opened a closed
path or door it might well be counted so."

   "A path or door," Kadiya repeated, "in the mountains to the north
range—the Vispi? My sister has dealt with those and to good purpose. Do
they also range beyond the Uisgu?"

   "I do not know," the Weaver returned. "The Uisgu in all the dealings
they have had with us have never spoken of such peoples. However," she
had turned her attention back once more to the strip of weaving, "after
this there came no further warnings of trouble."

  "Are there any other records of what the Uisgu feared?"

  "The Uisgu may have their own records. When they share with us it is
only to warn of a danger all the mires may face. They have sent only this."
She was rewinding the spool of woven records.

   "And those mountains beyond the Uisgu, is there much known of
them?" persisted Kadiya. She was beginning to realize more and more
how very little she knew of the swamp world—she who had valued herself
so highly because of her contacts with Jagun and what seemed now her
very limited journeying here and there. Her wartime ventures had taken
her far beyond anything she had known or guessed existed, and now it
seemed even that had been very little with which to push back the
boundaries of ignorance.

   "We record what we know of the mires, of the lives of our peoples," the
Weaver answered her. "What are the mountains to us? The Uisgu are our
kin but we meet with them only for trade or in times of great peril."

   She had taken up the rewound spool to replace it with others which
stood in ordered rows on the shelves arrayed on three sides of the room,
but at that moment there resounded through the air—

   —Or did it come by ear? Kadiya's hands had moved involuntarily to
shut off that wailing. Though she so stoppered her ears the volume of the
cry was in no way reduced. It was a mind cry then, so harsh and
high-carrying it was like a blow to the head, leaving her wavering dizzily.

   The Oddlings in the room had made the same ear stopping gesture and
now their faces twisted in pain. This could not be any freak of the storm
without.

  Kadiya straightened as the sound died away. She had hand to sword
and was at the doorway, the Weaver hardly a pace behind.

  "Trouble comes," she heard the Oddling woman mutter.

   There was already a crowd in the hall without, more and more feeding
into it from every family room and pressing onto the wide platform
beyond, where their boats were tied. All of them, Kadiya noted, had taken
up arms. There was a forest of spears, blow pipes ready to hand among
male and female alike. Only the younglings were herded to the back, sent
once more into cover by impatient slaps from their Elders.

    Nor was this longhouse the only one so aroused. Kadiya could see the
same massing of inhabitants before all the others which formed the
village. Some of the defenders were dropping off into their light skiffs,
riding the turbulent waters of the lake toward the shore.

  She saw Jagun joining one of the groups waiting to disembark and
pushed her way to his side.

  "What is it?" she demanded, raising her voice to be heard above the
hooting and calling of the others, all speaking the mire language now.

   He did not even turn his head, rather watched for a chance to take his
turn in one of the craft. So she caught him by the arm for fear he would
disappear before she could get information.

   "One comes. There is a death message!" He freed himself with a sharp
jerk.

  Kadiya knew better than to try to follow him into the boat he had
chosen. She was too heavy of body, too lacking in training with Nyssomu
weapons to be of aid at present.

  The First and her Council of women were now well to the fore of the
open space, none of them paying any attention to the rain which was once
more blowing in heavy gusts. In each of the craft already launched, at least
one of the boaters was hastily bailing.

   To Kadiya's surprise the boats setting out from all the houses scattered.
A number headed for the river opening, but others made for the shores all
the way around the lake. And when the first of those reached the mud
banks they slid their craft up onto the land and wormed themselves away
into the brush. Save for the boats still in sight, the shore in a few moments
was bare of life.

   Kadiya was well aware of the Oddling ability to make of their
waterlogged country a defense. There were enough fighters loosed now in
that wilderness of the mire to ensure that any force striving to come to the
lake heart of the holding would not find that advance an easy one.

   Skritek? Kadiya could not think of any other possible enemy. If some
small band of Voltrik's men was lost still in this wilderness those survivors
would not be in any condition to offer any attack. But Skritek were more
noted for their ambushes, slyly worming their way into occupied territory
to cut off a small body of Oddlings. She had never heard of any of the
"Drowners" attacking a village—except under the push of Voltrik's men
during the dire weeks just past. This was not their way of fighting.

   The girl moved closer to the First and her Councilors. There had come
no other sound to outscream the storm. The sheets of water sweeping
across the lake were like curtains which veiled the shores at intervals. And
those Kadiya mistrusted. It could well be that the Skritek had learned new
tactics from the invaders and some unusual leader among them was now
putting those to the test.

   The flotilla of boats which had made for the end of the lake could hardly
be seen under these conditions. There were always sentries on duty, not
only near the lake but along the stream beyond, as well as a gateway of
brush which was normally pulled across that stream as a concealing
curtain.

   She was straining to see more of those boats, even her vaunted farsight
troubled by this need, when there came another of the sounds. This was
not so shaking—or perhaps having endured it once she was better able to
stand up to it now.

   There was movement among the women near her. One of them reached
the side of the First and handed to her a curled shell large enough to be
used as a horn. Putting it to her wide mouth the First gave breath to a
series of hoots, loud as any bugle call but not unlike some of the Nyssomu
speech.

   Another mental cry and the First made answer. From the far end of the
lake two of the house craft swung out into better view, between them a
third in which, as they came closer, Kadiya could distinguish two huddled
figures.

   As soon as she was able to sight the bedraggled and sodden cloaks
which weighed them down she knew them for Uisgu. And the very fact
that they had come here meant that no small trouble brought them.

   Though there was never any dispute between the two Odddling races,
neither was there much intercourse. The Uisgu were far more of the wild
than the Nyssomu, shy of mingling with those not of their race or caste.
Before the war she had seen only a few of them in Trevista, for no matter
how far in the mire lands they might range they did not approach any
holdings of the humans, using the Nyssomu as their go-betweens.

   That these two came here now was a matter for surprise. As the
escorted skiff drew in to the house where Kadiya was, she was even more
astounded at the nature of the party. The one in the bow of the tiny boat
flung back her cloak and raised her head. As all her race she was furred
except on the face and that fur had been sleeked so tightly to her body that
she looked as if she had been dipped in some dark dye.
  The face paint, which was also a matter of custom for those of her
people, had been almost washed away, leaving only some faint smears here
and there. Her companion was a male—quite young, Kadiya thought—well
muscled and from the way he handled the oar of the boat, one who had
been travel trained.

  The escort boats drew one to each side. Jagun commanded one, Kadiya
noted as they nosed in to the platform. The Uisgu boat did not move to tie
up, almost as if those aboard were not sure of their welcome.

   Once more it was the First who gave voice. Not through the agency of
the horn this time, but calling out clear enough to be heard above the beat
of the rain, though Kadiya could not understand the words she uttered.

   Now the Uisgu craft did come in. The male threw a rope which the
nearest Nyssomu caught. The boat was hauled carefully in so that the
Uisgu woman was able to reach the platform, where one of the waiting
clansmen was quick to give her a hand.

   She did not stand straight, rather bent a little forward, and there was
swiftly passed up to her by her companion a staff which she grasped to
steady herself.

   One of the boatmen who had escorted her made a swift report and
again the First sounded her horn. Then she held out a hand to the Uisgu
as if they were clan sisters and led her into the shelter of the house. Her
Councilors, Kadiya with them, followed quickly after.

   The Uisgu boy shouldered a journey pack of some size and fell into step
with Kadiya, glancing at her in wide-eyed surprise. One hand raised and
he made a queer gesture Kadiya had seen before. Just so had the Hassitti
claws moved when they met. Hassitti, Uisgu—what had those two in
common? Another of those endless questions to plague her.

                          Chapter Ten

   THIS TIME IT WAS THE UISGU WOMAN WHO was established on
the stool of the questioned visitor while Kadiya slipped in to stand behind
one of the benches on which her interrogators were seated. Though she
had been offered rest and refreshment, the Uisgu had refused it
impatiently and asked for audience with the First at once. Not only that,
but she had insisted that the Firsts of the other five clan houses which
made up the village be summoned, too, and it was only while waiting for
their arrival that she accepted food and drink.

   The youth who was her companion also had slipped into the Council
chamber and now squatted a little behind Kadiya, his pack before him,
hands resting on it as if the contents were so precious that he must take
extra precautions to see it safe.

  Perhaps to make sure all would understand, the Uisgu woman used
mind speech.

   "This one is Salin of the House of Safor of the Clan of Segin. I am one
who sees— " She added to her mind speech a hand gesture which was
echoed at once by the First of this house.

   "There has come such a darkness that has not been seen in hundreds of
seasons. This thing kills in a way of great horror. For it we have no name
or memory. Thus I come hither, that I may ask your Weavers of past
thoughts to seek the nature of this creeping terror. Learning what it may
be, perhaps my people can take battle measures against it."

  "This thing of which you speak, of what manner is it?"

   "Of this kind." Without turning her head the Uisgu snapped her
fingers. The youth quickly dug into the pack bringing out a shallow basin
of that same blue-green metal which Kadiya had seen the Hassitti use.

    Into the shallow depths of this he poured a measure of clear liquid from
a fish skin bag and then, on his hands and knees, advanced to place the
basin at the feet of the Uisgu where she fronted the First.

    The latter moved forward on her bench, leaning so that she could see
into that container. The Uisgu closed her eyes. Her breathing became slow
and deep and there was utter silence in the chamber. Kadiya realized what
was in progress. There were foreseers she had seen in Trevista who had
"read the water" for petitioners. Some proclaimed they could even see a
little into the future by such means, others merely that they could show
what was happening in another place at the same time.

  Within the basin the water began to move as if stirred, forming a
miniature whirlpool. As it swirled so, it darkened, no longer transparent.

  Now the color of a peat-dark swamp pool, the water ceased to swirl.
The Uisgu held her hand over the basin, well above the surface of that
now-quiet pool, and her long fingers twirled and twisted. Her head was
well back upon her hunched shoulders and her large eyes were closed.

   Then her hands fell limply to her knees. There was movement again on
the surface of the basin's contents—not a swirling this time but rather a
seeming flicker of light on the dark surface.

    Kadiya edged forward until she could see clearly what picture grew into
life there. They were looking down, as if they were as winged as a quim,
upon a section of open and solid land, such as were to be found in hillocks
of the swamps. These were usually the foundation for ruins. But this was
rutted by furrows, and there were signs of a harvest of pulin.

   But the wholesome remains of that were being absorbed by a spread of
yellowish-green growth shot through with lines of blood red. And the thing
appeared to pulsate as if it crawled over the wholesome land like one of
the giant slugs of the Golden Mire.

   There was something disgusting, utterly alien in that thing. Kadiya
swallowed, tasting the rise of her own bile. This had no place in any sane
world meant for the abode of human or Oddling. But the worst was not
that undulating carpet which lay poisoning the soil: it was the body which
lay to one side, curled about itself as if striving to ease some last torture.
The victim was plainly Uisgu, yet on the arms which were tightened about
bent knees there showed patches of the same green-yellow as the thing on
the ground.

   The picture in the basin grew larger. They hung now directly above that
body and Kadiya saw that those arms and legs so tightly clasped together
did not hide the fact that into the chest of the victim had been driven a
hunting blade.

   Then the water containing the picture came to life, swirled vigorously
and settled. They looked at another scene. This time swift running water
lapped another island in the murk. There again was the foul
yellow-green—this time in splotches, as if spilled out of some giant
container. And those splotches grew wider even as they watched.
   Another picture, in this a skiff was adrift. Beside it, belly up, floated one
of the rimoriks with whom the Uisgu lived in companionship and who
drew their boats at full speed when journeys were necessary. Across that
bloated belly was a splotch of yellow-green, while in the skiff itself lay an
Uisgu.

   This was not a static scene. Even as they watched the Uisgu in the craft
moved slowly, causing the skiff to dip dangerously. The passenger now
displayed his left leg, which from ankle to hip was plastered with the now
familiar stain. As they watched he brought out with very apparent
difficulty a fish-cleaning, sharp-edged scraper. Then with a last burst of
effort he brought it up to slash open his own throat.

  The water swirled, the picture vanished; but all those who watched,
Kadiya was certain, had seen something which really happened.

   No new picture formed. Instead the Uisgu woman's eyes opened, and
she changed the angle of her head so that she could squarely face the
Nyssomu clan Firsts.

   "So it is with us, wisewomen. This evil spreads across our land as if
some monster strides, leaving foul death in every footprint as it passes.
There is no hope for any life the yellow poison touches. We lost one whole
clan because they strove to help a hunter who staggered home beset with
the infection. Now any who fall prey to it take their own lives that they
may not carry it to others.

   "Weaver records are known to be many and cover hundreds of seasons.
Our own have no mention of such a thing nor how it can be fought, but it
spreads and this land is threatened. I ask of you, what message can you
give me concerning this?"

  The Weaver had arisen and come to stand looking down into the now
dormant bowl where the darkness was slowly ebbing.

   "This is not of my knowledge and I have been Guardian of the storage
looms for twice sixty seasons. Sister in Power. Yet you are right, many
records are stored here and to seek through them can be done."

   Kadiya, with some of her old impetuosity, came closer.

   "Farseer," she asked the Uisgu, "from what direction does this foul evil
come?"

   There was a trace of frown on the Uisgu's face. Her eyes swept Kadiya
from head to foot and back again. There had never been ties between her
people and the Ruwendians of the Citadel. Could there also be lack of
trust?

  On impulse Kadiya held forward the sword so that its bulbous-eyed
pommel could be clearly seen. In doing so she swung it over the basin.
And—

   One of those slitted eyes opened—that of the Oddling. It appeared to
stare straight at the Uisgu wisewoman.

   Her small body tensed. One of her hands rose a trifle from her knee.
Then she stared at Kadiya. "Holder of Power"—she made that Hassitti-like
gesture even as had the youth—"so once more you walk the land. What
brings you in answer to this?" She pointed to the basin.

  "I do not know. But tell me, wisewoman, does this spread from the
western mountains, this trail of death?"

  The Uisgu blinked. "Power bearer, it does."

  "And toward where does it appear to head?"

  "Toward the Skritek lands."

  The First of Jagun's clan spoke. "Weaver, a search must be made."

   However, Kadiya had something more to ask. "What lies in Skritek
lands that would draw such an evil?"

   The First's mouth twisted as if she would spit. "Who knows of the
Skritek—they are a black blot of vileness in this world. Did not those
enemies who came upon your own people. King's Daughter, seek to enlist
them in their armies? Were they not people of that Sorcerer who ravaged
the land? That some new evil Power would seek them out—that can well be
expected."

   Then she spoke to the wisewoman. "Sister in Power, your way has been
long and you must be greatly wearied. Let you be at rest while the records
are searched. Be sure what help we can give you shall receive. If this
plague spreads, let your people come to us for shelter. As against Skritek
so shall our spears and darts be united to face this."

   The record room was ablaze with a number of lamps. Under the glow
the table had been largely cleared and several stools had been brought in
so that not only the Weaver and her two apprentices, but also the First
and Kadiya were given space there. The Uisgu Salin and her escort had
been fed and were now sleeping off the effects of their hard journey.

   It was the Weaver who, with deft touch, unrolled strips of the records.
Some she dismissed at once and gave to her assistants to be rewound, but
three remained on the table. The fourth piece was that which Kadiya had
brought from the city of the Vanished Ones.

  The Weaver used a fingertip to trace out lines of blue-green, touching
now and then on a spot of red. Kadiya fought down growing impatience.
She thought of those other records stored hit or miss by the Hassitti.
Would it now be necessary for her to return to the city and see if she could
puzzle out more there? Her lack of knowledge was a frustrating barrier.
She had no skill in reading those archaic symbols. Nor did she believe that
any here could do any better. Haramis?

   When Haramis had taken the Archimage's cloak about her shoulders,
she had also assumed the Guardianship Binah had held so long. Therefore
this plague in the swamplands would certainly be a concern for her.

   Kadiya reached for the amulet of amber at her throat. Once it had been
a key to communication with her sister. Could it so serve again?

   There was silence in the room, save for the scratching of the Weaver's
fingernail across the record strips. The girl cautiously edged back a little
from the table, taking the amulet tightly in her grasp, closing her eyes,
concentrating as best she could on a mental picture of her sister as she
had seen her in that gloomy room.

  "Haramis!" Her unvoiced call carried a note of command. "Haramis…"

   It was as if a gauzy mist hid the one she would reach. She pushed
toward it, only to feel as if she ran face-on into a barrier.

  "Haramis?" There was nothing. A door might have been firmly closed
between them. Yet she sensed this loss of communication was not of
Haramis's doing. Did forces stir now which were greater than any her
sister could command? Kadiya squeezed the amulet as if to wring out the
answer she needed.

   "Ah…" the Weaver's finger had paused at last. She turned to her nearer
assistant.

  "Bring the roll of Lysta, that of the fourth season!"

   The Nyssomu girl arose and went to the far wall of the room. Her
fingers swept along a shelf tight packed with rolls, one of which she
brought to the table. The record had been sown into a transparent
cylinder of fish skin and this the Weaver slit with care, using the same
caution as she unrolled it inch by inch. Two of those watching her sneezed
and Kadiya's nose prickled from a scent she could not identify.

  "That is word from very long ago," the First commented. "Was there
some hint of such an evil before?"

   "Not of the plague, no." The Weaver spread her fingers wide to keep the
tough roll flat as she leaned forward to peer at its surface.

   What Kadiya could see of that surface did not resemble the other woven
rolls about them. There were lines in the fabric, yes, but they were not
regular, instead they spiraled horizontally.

   "In the fourth season of Lysta's weavership there was a raid from
Skritek territory. So serious was this invasion of our land that Uisgu and
Nyssomu banded together to meet them. There was a clan march from
this village which followed to here"—she tapped the roll—"well within
Skritek holdings. They captured a Skritek Caller of Blood.

   "In the guard was one of Power who could read the thought spears of
the Caller. And this he learned: that within the heart of their foul land
there is a place of blackness, like perhaps unto a door. Something in that
time had issued forth from there ready to turn upon us. But the evil will
was not strong enough to last—rather it dwindled and then vanished. It
was said that the Noble Binah sent a mind message fierce enough to seal
again that place which should never have been opened and blast into
nothingness what had issued forth."
   Kadiya could be quiet no longer. "And now this plague moves across the
land, perhaps to this place known before?"

  The Weaver glanced up at the girl. "It may be so."

  "There was a plague then, also?" Kadiya persisted.

  "There is no record of such."

   The girl drew the sword and held it above the series of lines on the roll.
A finger of light touched the weaving. It was the Vanished One's eye which
had answered this time.

  "Saa— ' The Weaver jerked back from the spot of light and there were
answering hisses from the others.

  The light was gone, the eye near-closed again. Kadiya lifted the sword.

  "I have no Power such as the Archimage," she said. "I would speak with
my sister. The greater learning is hers and perhaps she can answer much.
But I cannot reach her with my untrained mind. If you have such among
you perhaps you can aid in this."

   "We have only one under this roof—the one who has come to us for aid,
Salin of the Uisgu." The First arose. "When she is rested let her try—have
we not already witnessed her Powers? Weaver, let that be copied." She
indicated the roll on the table. "For there may well be need for a guide."

  It would seem that the records of the village had yielded all they would.
Which was precious little, Kadiya thought. That the Uisgu wisewoman
had Power, she had proved. However, if her Power had already been used
up in seeking, then perhaps there was little she could do.

   Kadiya returned to the quarters which had been assigned her. Once
more she set about overhauling her trail pack. If she was to convey to
Haramis the best information she could, she must see for herself this
plague and where it led.

  Cradling the sword in her hands, she attempted to use it as she had the
amulet. But there was no result at all—not even that vision of a swirling
mist.
   Weary measures of waiting passed before they gathered once more:
Salin with her bowl before her. the others grouped in the shadows where
only two lamps burned.

  The Uisgu woman looked even more frail and trail-worn. But her hands
were sure as she prepared the bowl. When the liquid within grew dark she
spoke to Kadiya without raising her own eyes from that basin pool.

  "One of Power, think upon she whom you would call."

  Kadiya stared also into the opaque liquid.

  "Haramis!"

  Once more she called, fiercely, with all the strength she could raise,
putting one hand to the amulet and one to the sword as she did so.

   There was a haze gathering in the basin, a curling of mist. It wreathed
around and around but it did not clear to show them any picture.

  "Haramis!" Kadiya strove to reach out. Once more she struck against a
wall which was not visible, with force enough to feel bruised as if her flesh
had striven to break through stone.

   Salin moved her hand out over the basin, her fingers crooked as if to
scratch away that curtain. But to no purpose, the mist remained.

  "There is something against us," she said slowly, as if she resented each
word. "Power grows, and it is not of the light."

   Kadiya let the amulet fall back against her breast but she did not loose
her hold on the sword.

   "Wisewoman, if you cannot reach my sister, can you see again the
plague? Does it stretch still in the same direction?"

  Salin brought her hands together in a clap over the basin. The mist was
gone but the liquid therein had not cleared.

   Instead it appeared to curdle and darken with shadows which then took
on sharper form. Once more they looked upon a section of swampland
where splotches of the yellow glistened like deadly slime. However, there
was also something else: a black blot in the midst of that irregular patch
of corruption. But that did not sharpen to allow them to see its nature.

  Only for a space of a few breaths did it hold, then came a spurt of flame
and the picture was gone. Salin drew back with a cry.

  "Power… and Power which knows we spy upon it!"

                      Chapter Eleven

    "THAT PLACE I KNOW." ONE OF THE First's Council broke the
silence. "It is the Isle of the Sal Tower."

   All of the women stirred. Once more that hissing "sssaaa" broke from
the First.

  She looked to the Weaver. "Unfold the waygoing for us now."

   Once more a section of the table was cleared and now a square wide
enough to have to be rolled at the edges in order to fit into the space was
brought forward. Kadiya could see lines which wavered and as she blinked
there was a flash of recognition. She was looking upon a map—the curve of
the Mutar was plain.

   The First smoothed it flat with her hand. "Summon Jagun," she
ordered. "This matter is for a far seeker."

  That a male of the clan be admitted to such a conference was plainly
out of custom. There was a murmur of dissent from some of the women
but the First looked to one of the lesser of the Council and the woman
went reluctantly.

    Salin had moved forward to stare down at the map. Now her hand
came forward and she traced a line from one of the rolled edges to another
point. "Already it has spread so far!" Though there was a map set upon the
wall of the Great Hall at the Citadel, Kadiya had seldom noted it. Fading
lines of paint had so little meaning in her mind when compared to the
living lands of the mires. Of that map now she could remember very little,
especially in the western holdings of the Uisgu.

   Jagun returned with the messenger, gave respectful greeting to the
First.
   "Hunter," she came to the point at once, "you have been to Sal Tower."
It was a statement more than a question.

  "Once. I met with Sinu of the Val Clan. He was well versed in that
country since it was largely contained within his own. And the Sal Tower
possessed certain legends which led me to wish to see it."

   Now the First spoke to Salin. "Wisewoman, point out to us which way
this plague has spread from its first appearance."

   The older Oddling bent closer to the map and her finger traced a path
from the west which led in what seemed almost a straight line to the point
marking the tower. "So," she said.

   Jagun had watched her intently, then as her hand drew back he put out
his own finger.

  "It would seem that the line runs so, but the Sal Tower may not be the
end. If it continues in that direction it will cut deeply into Skritek
country."

  "Before it spreads farther," Kadiya said, "we should know more. Since
your Power, wisewoman, cannot make it plain to us what we face, then we
must view it for ourselves. One cannot fight any foe without knowing the
nature of the enemy and what weapons it holds. This Sal Tower is a place
toward which we can travel."

   She refused to allow the memories of what Salin had shown them to
come to the fore of her mind. Instead she held to another image—that of
the sword in full strength when it had blasted forth with destructive
power. It could be that if she confronted this invader, whatever or whoever
it might be, she could so put an end to it.

  The First rubbed a finger along the edge of the map roll.

   "Powers, King's Daughter, can often not be measured until it is too late.
This we know—that we do not know enough. You have some protection
which is yours alone. If it is your choice that this be done, then let it be
so."

   Kadiya took firm grip on the sword. Well, she had offered; could she be
sorry that her offer had been accepted? It was indeed far better, as she
saw it, to track this creeping death to its source rather than to sit about a
basin and watch it kill, knowing no more about it than that it could slay.

  She turned to Jagun. "Shield mate, will you march?"

  "Farseer, this venture is ours."

   But Kadiya had already considered another problem. "Ours, only." She
looked to the First. "Any large force could be easily discovered. With
Jagun to pick the trail and but two of us, there is better chance to know
without being known."

  "We, also. One of Power." Salin raised her head to stare over the map at
Kadiya. "This venture is truly mine, and I am sworn to it."

   Kadiya would have protested instantly but somehow she could not
speak. There was a confidence in this wisewoman which was like that of
the First. She was one who was not used to having any of her wishes
countered.

   At least the monsoon had nearly exhausted itself. When they took to
boat again—this time in a more substantial craft than that which had
brought Salin and her grandson—there was not the heavy lash of rain to
make their trip a time of constant vigilance and bailing. Their supplies
were the best which the village could provide. Also, with the weather less
against them they could better live off the land—or rather the water, for
Salin's grandson Smail proved to be a master fisherman. Kadiya, who had
long since learned the need for adapting to the trail, ate her shredded
portions raw without protest.

   Each night as they found campsites on some scrap of ground above
water level, Salin would consult her scrying bowl. However, the clear
results she had gained in the village no longer held. Shadows would appear
on the surface but none of them sharpened into actual pictures. Twice she
tried with Kadiya to reach Haramis, only to encounter that ever defeating
mist.

   Jagun guided them at last to a section of ground which was more than
an islet. Here there was a trace of a ruin—a few blocks still piled one upon
the other. He was able to spear a pelrik newly issued from its storm
hibernation. By one of the stones Smail found some moss which had
partially dried, enough so that its oily stems and minute leaves gave off a
fraction of heat to at least sear their portions of the kill.

   "From here," the hunter announced, "we must go on foot. There is an
ancient way beneath the mud and growth which will give us a road…
though we must sound the way."

   In the morning's light, which was no longer as storm-sodden gray, he
and Smail drew the boat well ashore and anchored it firmly, piling brush
around it. Kadiya divided their supplies into three packs, for Salin needed
her full strength, the girl judged, to use her staff and keep her feet upon
this broken land.

   Wary of patches, they moved slowly. In some places the fury of the rains
had washed away soil and plants and Kadiya could see the blocks of what
indeed might have been an ancient road. She was thankful that they had
as sturdy footing as they did, for they were able to make better time than
she had believed possible.

   They came out into an expanse where there was little in the way of
growth and wide uncovered stretches of the stone way.

  "Ware!" Jagun's mind-flashed warning brought Kadiya instantly alert
and she held her spear at the ready. A dart blower had appeared in Smail's
hand.

   Then it reached her also—a thrust of mind pain so intense it nearly
rocked her. She heard Salin whimper and the Uisgu woman fell to her
knees both hands to her head.

   Out of the brush which walled the far side of the clearing there wavered
a creature painfully dragging itself forward. It seemed to be hardly more
than a heaving mass of puffy yellow, with stick thin limbs, catching
desperately at any small hold to draw it forward.

   The wind was blowing across it toward them and Kadiya gagged at a
thick, putrid stench. In her mind that insane, never ending shriek of pain
became harder and harder to combat.

   "No—do not let it come near!" Salin cried out and caught at Kadiya as
the girl moved a step forward.

   It was Small who raised his blow pipe, took careful aim and sent forth a
dart that sunk in over its head in the monstrous mass of body. The thing
shuddered, scrabbled vainly for a hold on the stones and then suddenly
reared up and fell backward.

  To Kadiya's horror that movement revealed what it truly was. Half of an
Oddling head protruded from the forepart of the loathsome mass.

   "The plague." Smail's young face showed fear. He made no move
forward to retrieve his dart. Salin pulled again at Kadiya.

   "Do not go near it, take another path! It has sown the blight even as it
crawled."

   Though she wanted nothing to do with the dead, Kadiya forced herself
to remember that she must learn all she could about this thing of terror.
Shifting her spear to her other hand she drew the sword and held it up,
the eyes turned toward the miserable, tormented body.

   Freeing herself from Salin's hold she took one step and then another.
Through the overcast of gray day shot a bolt of fire. All three eyes were
fully open. From them streamed what appeared a twisted thread of
radiance to strike full upon the body.

   There was a brilliant flash of bluish light harsh enough to blind Kadiya
for an instant. Then followed an explosion of fetid air. What was left was
only a smear on the half exposed pavement.

   A hold grasped at Kadiya's legs, moved up to her waist. Salin had so
drawn herself to her feet.

  "Use the Power, King's Daughter—cleanse our land!"

  Kadiya staggered a fraction as the weight of the frail Uisgu leaned on
her. She still gripped the sword and held it outward but now the pommel
was dipping toward the ground. There was a weight dragging down her
whole arm and inside her a weakness as if the fury of that burst of flame
had drawn most of her energy from her.

  Jagun had edged forward, near to that smear upon the stone, but he
paused still a good way from it. Then his head turned and he looked
beyond to where the tortured Uisgu had crawled into the open.
   Kadiya could sight it. also. The brush wall was visibly withering,
turning a ghastly yellow-white even as she watched. The crawler must
have carried a dread contagion to everything it had touched.

   And it was spreading, with a rapidity which was frightening. She could
believe that it would soon contaminate all that wall of wet vegetation,
perhaps encircle them.

    With great effort she raised the sword a second time. Again she willed
it to life, pointing it at those withering plants, those rotting vines.

   Once more the light. This time she felt the draw as if all her strength,
save that of will, was being pulled forth into feeding it.

   The fire gave birth not to one major explosion but a number of minor
flashes along branches and vine loops, opening a way ahead straight from
the space in which they stood.

   Kadiya fought to keep on her feet, to hold steady the sword. But she
could not force it into further action. The light paled, was gone. The three
eyes were once more lidded. She fell abruptly to her knees, too weak to
remain upright. Jagun was instantly at her side.

  "Farseer!"

   "It—I can do no more—" Somehow she managed to get out. She was
panting heavily as if she had run for a long distance, and her arms were so
weak they had fallen by her sides, the pointless sword clanging against the
stone pavement.

  There was movement beside her, an arm around her shoulders.

   "Smail! The drink of the foreseer!" That impatient order formed in the
girl's mind. It was Salin who was supporting her now, rather than she the
wisewoman. The Uisgu youth had taken off his pack to bring out a lidded
phial. When it was opened another scent warred with the choking stench
which still hung about them, the clean odor of some herb. Kadiya drank.

   She was still too tired to move, but now warmth spread within her and
she breathed more easily. Jagun had stood over her watching with
concern. At last he nodded, perhaps to her, perhaps to Salin.
    Hitching up his pack, he went toward the tunnel which the sword had
blasted. With caution he edged to a point from which he could peer down
it.

   "It still dies ahead," he reported. "Yet, I do not think it wise to take this
road, open as it may now be."

    Kadiya wondered if she was able to take any road. She was more than a
little frightened at this loss of strength. Well she knew that the use of
Power drained one. She might hold in her hand the answer to cleansing
the land— save that her body could not carry out that mission.

  "King's Daughter, you can kill it!" For the first time Smail addressed
her. "You can clear our land.

   Slowly Kadiya shook her head. "I have not the strength. I am not one of
great Power." She picked up the sword once more. Yes, the eyes were
firmly closed. Perhaps it was not only she who had been so exhausted. It
could be that that which dwelt within her talisman had also been depleted
for now. Or had it been drained past recovery?

   She fumbled it back into its sheath and now leaned her weight on her
spear, struggling to rise. Smail and Salin aided her to her feet and she
stood swaying between them, as weak as if she had lain long ill.

   That weakness awoke anger in her. She was no bower lady to be so
overwhelmed! The swamp demanded much from those who would walk
it—and walk it she would! This was her free choice.

   Kadiya licked her lips as her gaze swiftly passed the smear on the stone,
the crumbling brush. She spoke to Jagun.

   "There is a way forward, hunter?"

   He pointed a little to the right of the brush which the Power had
blasted. She could see no sign there of that yellow streaking, the withering.

   "That way, Farseer, but slowly."

  Somehow Kadiya found strength to smile. "Well must it be slow, shield
comrade. I am one who must now take but a step at a time."
                      Chapter Twelve

   SINCE JAGUN HAD STEERED THEM AWAY from possible contagion
they found the going more difficult. Ancient masonry no longer underlay
the skin of earth and vegetation. Jagun and Smail took turns to sound out
their footing with spear butts. To Kadiya's surprise the isle on which they
had landed appeared quite large, perhaps even greater than that which
supported Trevista to the south.

   Her strength gradually returned and after the second day she was able
to keep a better pace. She did not draw the sword again, though she
glanced at the pommel from time to time, always to see those eyes closed.
At length she began to feel uneasy, wondering if she had indeed used all its
Power in that blast.

   On the afternoon of the fourth day they struck water again. The storms
had swept heavily here, though the flooding had ceased now. However, the
stretch of roiled liquid before them was as dark and thick as if the mud of
a river bottom had boiled to the top. On the other side was a rise of
growth as tall as any polder tree, yet this was a dark mass, caught and
woven together by vines. And they were close enough to see that great
thorns as long as the darts in Jagun's shoulder case sprouted within the
branches of that brush. There was no mistaking the beginning of the
Thorny Hell, the stronghold of the Skriteks.

   Kadiya had passed through this twice but only upon the river, where
the threatening thorny growth had walled the shores and did not have to
be faced full on. Whether it could be pierced at all she began to wonder.

   They rummaged in their packs and brought out leaf water-walkers,
stepping into the thongs and making sure that they were well fastened to
their boots. Jagun adjusted the sling for his dart pipe, so that he might lay
hand on it in an instant. Smail followed the hunter's example after making
sure the wisewoman's leaf walkers were well adjusted.

   They headed on. the water-walkers serving them well. Kadiya continued
to study the thick murk of the water closely. She had no doubt there were
lurkers there; she only hoped that none were large enough to challenge the
travelers.
   As they approached the thorny shield of the rising land the girl could
not see any possible opening, though she knew that the Skriteks traversed
their stronghold with ease. However, the Drowners were practically water
dwellers, having a liking for swimming under surface and attacking their
prey from such hiding. Did they use some hidden waterways to take them
in and out of that cover?

   Still if Jagun was baffled by that barrier he did not show it. Kadiya
tried hard, calling upon all the hunting lore she had learned from him, to
spot any way of advancement. She did not expect to see him aim his spear
directly at what appeared to be an impenetrable bush, work its head well
into it, and then give a twist of his shoulders, exerting such strength as
made his muscles stand visible under the skin where his jerkin had frayed
away.

  Smail slid forward on his own water-walkers and aimed his spear near
Jagun's, then also bent to the task of twisting.

   The bush they had attacked, which stood almost as high as one of the
city's garden trees, shook. Kadiya saw a brilliant red snake drop from a
top branch, appear to spread fin-like wings and so glide to another perch
farther away. A cloud of insects, thick enough almost to veil Kadiya's sight,
whirled upward.

  Jagun and the young Uisgu only strained the harder.

   Kadiya would not have believed their efforts possible if she had not seen
the bush slowly bend to the left. Where it had stood there was a dark
opening, a ragged path floored with black earth giving out a rotting smell.

  Still holding the brush aside Jagun gave an order.

  "In, Farseer, Salin."

   Kadiya obeyed, gingerly placing trust in the hunter's knowledge, though
she half expected to find herself wedged against those thorns, long and
strong enough to impale her.

   There seemed to be a tunnel through the barrier here but it had been
fashioned for wayfarers Oddling size and Kadiya had to stoop to escape
having her helm brushed off by the thorns and swinging vines. The latter
she watched warily, remembering only too well her struggle in the city of
the Vanished Ones.

   Here was not only the usual fug of the swamp but she caught now and
again a whiff of Skritek body odor. There was none yet of the putrid
breath of the plague.

  She squeezed to one side as Jagun joined her, ready to take the lead.

  "This is a Skritek trail?" she demanded in a half whisper.

  "It is a way—the only way we can take for entrance," he returned. "It is
not long and it will bring us to the Sal Tower."

   They put Salin in the middle, with Jagun and then Kadiya before, and
Smail bringing up the rear guard. Kadiya's amulet was warm against her
flesh. Glancing down she could see the golden light it cast through the
near translucent scales of her mail shirt. But she did not need that
warning.

   Though there was no water here to hide a Skritek ambush, she could
not be sure that the sharp thorned walling would not suddenly fall away to
reveal a war party.

   Jagun was advancing as if he knew exactly what he was about and the
girl had enough confidence in his trail knowledge to hope that they could
traverse this awesome tunnel without attack. It was true that the Skritek
scent was not as strong as if there had been recent passage here.

   She heard a sharp crack behind her and slewed around ready to
confront an enemy only to see that Salin had broken a thorn from a near
branch. It was not the sullen black of the other growth but grayish and
now the wise-woman reached for another such. At her sharp tug that also
parted from the parent wood.

  "What—?" Kadiya began.

   Salin was already harvesting a third. "Darts," the Uisgu woman
returned. "Such darts will serve us well."

   There was an answering grunt of agreement from Smail. However, he
did not loose hold on his weapons to aid in the harvest.
   As they worked their way on, Salin not only added to the store of thorns
she was binding together, but here and there caught at a leaf of some vine
or even a twist of evil-looking blossom which in Kadiya's eye too much
resembled the head of a vibon viper.

   It was humid and damp in this place. Sweat gathered under the edge of
her helm, to trickle down her cheeks, even drip from her chin. Her hands
were slippery on the spear and she found herself aware of breathing as if
the act was an effort. There was no way here of measuring either time or
distance and Jagun was continuing single-mindedly as if a strong will
drove him.

   When he did halt it was because they were faced by what looked to be
an impenetrable wall of brush. He shrugged off his pack and movement
from behind Kadiya testified that Smail was doing the same. Once more
the young Uisgu stepped level with Jagun, though here they were crowded
very close together by the walls of the hidden way.

  Both spears thrust deep into the mass of the thorns as Nyssomu and
Uisgu strained together.

   There was no response except the whipping of the thorn branches, as if
the vegetation had power to reason and repel. Kadiya slipped off her own
pack. Though the slit in the living wall left her very little room in which to
maneuver and she could not straighten to her full height, the girl pushed
her own spear between those of the Oddlings, jabbing the point as deeply
as she could into the mass. When the head caught and held, she added
what strength she could in a united effort.

   At last she felt movement. This time the tangled vegetation was not
sliding to one side, but rather retreating as if they were pushing a cork out
of a flask. The girl could feel as well as see the tension of the Oddlings and
readied herself for a last assault.

   That break came so suddenly that they all staggered forward, almost
thrown off their feet. Light broke the gloom of the tunnel way. But with
that came something else… the putrid odor of the plague.

   Jagun and Smail edged forward very carefully. Ahead was an open
clearing. However, they did not move as yet beyond the edge. Stones
covered the ground to form a barrier against the rooting of the thorn. It
was larger than they first thought as they studied it cautiously to find a
way among those rocky blocks. Certainly there had once been construction
here. On the top of one block, within a hand's distance of Jagun, coiled a
brilliant red and black banded lenth. Warning was already on Kadiya's
lips, but the hunter swung with practiced speed bringing spear butt down
with smashing force which left the viper half crushed, though still
wriggling.

   Such crawling perils would find fine cover in this place, Kadiya knew.
But now she was surveying the ruin studded ground for traces of another
kind of death—the yellow leprous patches of that evil to which they could
not as yet give any name, save plague.

   She sighted one such at last, half in the shadow of what once had been
a tower. Only a portion—the first story and half of the second—remained
of what must have been an imposing structure.

   Small crouched by the stone where the viper had died and cut off the
head, which he then pushed by knife point into a small pouch, fastening
the string very tight. Lenth poison on the point of a dart formed a very
deadly weapon.

    Kadiya, swinging her spear before her, picked a careful way from one
bare rocktop to the next in the direction of the tower. Well away from the
brush wall through which they had come, she could better view that
splotch at the base of the tower. It was not a large spot—apparently the
lack of vegetation there had kept it from spreading. However, as she
turned a little she could trace the rot back toward the wall through which
it had issued—and a second line of slimy, putrescent splotches continuing
on from the tower base, as if they marked footsteps.

   She believed that the ruin must mark a stopping place, even a camp—if
the thing they hunted was such that camped. In some places the infected
vegetation had formed what appeared to be pools of liquid decay. About
the edges of some of those, she thought she could see what might even be
the skeletons of small creatures, some seeming to show phosphorescence
in this cloud dimmed daylight.

  Jagun had joined her on an adjacent perch among the rocks.

  "It has come and gone." Apparently he read those tracks even as she
had done.
   She remembered the black blot which had appeared in the scrying
bowl. This had certainly been the location of that scene. But where had it
gone? The trail she could see crossed to the opposite side of the open space
surrounding the remains of the tower.

   Kadiya fingered the sword. Her talisman had destroyed the plague,
brought a welcome death to that poor Oddling the foul blot had attacked.
But if they must follow that noisome trail through the thorns, would the
Power have renewed itself enough for her to cut a clean path for them?
Jagun had known of a way to the tower, thus they had gotten so far
without having to contend with the plague again. It was apparent now,
though, that the tower had not been the final goal of what they must deal
with.

   Even as she stood there, the dusk grew deeper. They must find some
kind of shelter—other than the infected tower—and rest out the night. A
more unlikely camping spot she had never seen than this viper-ridden
maze of rocks.

   However, they dared not push on. All of them were tired from their
march this day. Salin had sunk down on a stone, curling in upon herself,
rubbing at her legs and ankles. The very droop of her figure was a warning
that the wisewoman must be near to the end of her energy.

  "A camp?" Kadiya hazarded, looking away from the ominous tower now
and out over the ruins. The rain had stopped, though the air was dank and
humid. Perhaps they could stay in the open and not fear the coming of
another burst of storm.

  Jagun was revolving slowly on his own perch—intent on the territory
ahead and to their right. Now he pointed with his spear.

   Three masses of masonry had somehow tipped toward each other to
form a space which was half sheltered. The hunter dropped from his
lookout point and padded carefully toward it. He reached the opening and
stooped a little to survey what lay within. It was well away from the plague
trail with mostly bare rock between it and that foul road, and therefore
free from danger of pestilence.

   At his wave, Kadiya (having again shouldered the pack she had brought
out of the tunnel) reached out a hand to Salin, who dug her staff in
between two stones, and with its support pulled herself determinedly to
her feet.

  They had not chosen too badly the girl decided after Jagun and Smail
had clawed away some of the earth which had sifted around the three
improvised walls and made sure there were no viper holes. The flooring
was stone, and cold. Nor could they hope for a fire. But it was better than
huddling in the open.

   Their provisions were trail food, dry on the tongue, with only a few sips
of the water they carried with them to make it chewable. Salin groped in
the bag which hung from her girdle and produced some twists of dried
leaf which she shared out and they chewed. The coarse appearance of
these bits was deceptive. Kadiya found them refreshing as they mixed with
saliva. In fact they were as invigorating as some of the reviving drinks she
had known in the Citadel.

   The wisewoman turned her bundle of harvested thorns over to her
grandson, who was already busy with the smoothstone from his dart bag,
working the hard pieces into straight lengths which he then passed to
Jagun. The hunter was ready with a knife to trim delicately at the narrow
tips, though the twilight had so far advanced that he must have worked
more by touch than sight.

   Kadiya sat cross-legged, her own hands slipping up and down the
length of the sword. At her last clear sight the eyes had been lidded. Still,
unless she deceived herself by hope, it seemed there was a warmth about
the pommel which she could detect when she held a finger close to the
lidded eyes. The amulet continued in its warmth though its light was
limited by the mail coat she wore.

  "Wisewoman," she asked, "has any message of Power come to you?
Where does this thing of evil go? Can you scry and tell us?"

  She could not see the face of the Uisgu woman but she was mentally
aware that the other was troubled.

   "One of Power, we are now in a country where others rule. Always the
Skritek have been servants of evil. And evil has its own ears and eyes—yes,
and senses beyond those. Should I raise my Power it may be a summoning
for what we have not strength to face. However, there is another way…"
She spoke hesitatingly as if she was not sure of the suggestion she was
about to make.
   Kadiya felt movement beside her and then a faint sound as if metal
touched stone.

   "King's Daughter, bring forth that amulet which you wear." She spoke
abruptly, almost as an order. Kadiya obeyed, wriggling the piece of amber
on its chain out into the open.

   Fingers closed about her wrist to draw her hand forward. At the same
time the light of the trillium-heated drop increased so that she could see
dimly the amulet dangling now over Salin's empty scrying bowl. The side
of the basin reflected the light almost as though they had a dim lamp in
their midst.

    "Power, King's Daughter," Salin ordered. "Give me of your Power. Will
it!"

   Kadiya did as best she could, concentrating on the amulet with a
picture of Salin in her mind.

   As the liquid had seethed in the other scrying so it appeared to the girl
that the light of the amulet began also to swirl. As it had been when she
held the sword to slay, so did she feel her strength begin to drain down her
arm, feeding through her fingers into the amulet.

  Now the amulet itself moved in a small, tight circle over the churning
mist of light. Below the center of that circle, there formed a picture.

  It was perhaps no larger than she could measure with a ringer's length,
but for some moments of shock it was as clear as if she were within the
basin, a part of what she viewed.

   Skritek, but with them another. This was no refugee from Voltrik's
destroyed army. Rather it was a caricature of something else—one of the
Guardians from the lost city! There was no mistaking the features, twisted
and fallen away as they were, nor the body, though it was stooped and
shrunken, as if it were a glove from which the hand had been withdrawn.
She certainly saw one of the Vanished Ones, save that this creature was
the very embodiment of death, rot, and despair. From that shrunken body
there shone the same greenish yellow as that given off by the victims of the
plague.

  The thing was marching, Skritek to either side but none, she noted,
behind it, where on the ground it left patches of putrescence which might
have oozed from its feet. These foul sluggish blotches seemed to take on
monstrous life of their own, some uniting quickly and then flowing
outward, seeking nourishment. There was a stiffness in its walk. As did
Salin, it was using a staff, manifestly to keep itself upright. So might the
long-dead walk from out a tomb, moved by some purpose which could not
be denied.

    They had a last glimpse of the marcher and his escort. Then light
flickered in the basin and Kadiya's hand fell numbly to her side.

                    Chapter Thirteen

  "WHERE DOES THAT THING GO?" KADIYA asked aloud, of herself as
much as of those with her.

  "We but follow a trail," Jagun returned, "the death trail it leaves."

  "A Vanished One." Again the question formed in the girl's mind. "How
could a Vanished One become so?"

   "There were those who wove the Dark, even as their kin wove the light,"
Jagun answered. "Out of such weaving came the Judgment which changed
the world. This thing is from that time, it is loosed and moves again."

   Kadiya shivered, her hand again to her sword. Did she feel warmth
there? She turned it over. The light was gone from her amulet and her
hand was a heavy weight which she had difficulty forcing to obey her will.
Cautiously, in the dark which had fallen when the amulet light had died
away, she slipped a finger across the bulbous shapes of the three eyes.
They felt locked shut. "The forbidden Door is said to lie within this place
of bitterness and death," Salin's thought came. "It can only be that this
thing seeks."

  "For what purpose?" Kadiya asked quickly.

   They were crowded so tightly into this slight shelter that she felt the
wise-woman stir, her small arm brushing against Kadiya's longer,
mail-clad one. "Woman of Power, this thing which leaves so deadly a trail
appears ill unto death—yet it seeks some aid. There may be a core of evil
which will give it renewal. The oldest tales tell that when the Vanished
Ones saw the destruction their own warring had brought upon the land
they withdrew to another place in sorrow. There was a doorway into that
place and there they entered."

   "But if those of good will went so," Kadiya countered, "why would
something which is an embodiment of evil strive now to follow the same
path?"

   "For healing perhaps," the wisewoman said. "We cannot judge the
thoughts of a Vanished One. We are wrought of their making, but it is not
in us to guess what would move them or what Powers they hold."

   Again Kadiya fingered the sword. This… this thing out of nowhere had
poisoned wherever it passed. Even if it departed the land by some sorcery,
the plague it had sown would spread, and though she had met and
destroyed a very small part of that, she had not the Power to backtrail and
burn out all which had been set alive.

    If she could catch up with this walking death before it gained any
strength or renewal she might just have a chance to destroy the foulness at
its very core. This would be no battle as she had known warfare when she
went up against Voltrik, or even against the Skritek. Those enemies were
flesh and blood and could be killed. Even in dying this walker might win,
its contagion spread. Yet there was no other answer. As best she could she
must follow it, strive to deal with it as she had with Voltrik's general.

   Her helm scraped against one of the stones which walled them in as she
raised her head. She could summon no army now; she could not even
reach out to her sisters—to Haramis who was supposed to be watcher and
Guardian of Ruwenda. This was her own task; this must have been the
reason for her headlong journey from the Citadel. She had not been drawn
so to relinquish the sword—no, rather to take it up again, against a far
more sinister foe than any invader of her own species.

  "Jagun, Salin, Small," she said, with all the authority she might
summon. "This I must do: strive to prevent the evil from reaching its goal.
But I do not ask any of you to come with me."

  "Farseer, this is an ancient evil and we are a people linked with the day
which must have shaped it first. Do not say that you walk this trail alone!"
There was sharpness in his tone, a sharpness she had never heard from
Jagun except on two occasions in the past when he had believed that she
had endangered herself foolishly.

   "King's Daughter," said Salin, "I chose to follow this trail even before we
met you. I shall follow it to the end. The Power may not be as much mine
as it is yours, but what I can summon I shall live to turn against this foul
thing. Smail is of my blood and he is Oath-bound before the Elders to
travel with me. We do not turn aside now."

   Kadiya sighed. Jagun was tied to her by years of shared memories and
a mutual respect for each other's talents. He had become indeed her shield
comrade and she would have felt inwardly bereft without him. The two
Uisgu were not so attuned, but it was plain they had their own sense of
duty.

  "Then we follow," she said dully.

   Sleep was fitful. Kadiya was sure in the morning that she had dreamed.
Though she carried into waking the feeling that those dreams had been ill,
she could not remember them.

   Not only was there no rain this morning but a cloud-dulled sun shone
as they left the rocks around Sal Tower. The signs of the path they were to
follow were plain and they had to move with exasperating slowness to
avoid the patches of spreading death, the putrid smell of which hung
always about them.

   Perhaps due to an underpavement laid to prevent deep rooting, the
heavy growth did not stand thick here but rather opened before them.
They went alert to any sign of movement which might mean a viper. One
they saw but it must have touched a place of plague for it lay dead, its
body half rotted away.

   The openness narrowed again to a passage. Here were the remains of
more pavement and it was easier to avoid the rot which could only attack
some creeping vines and patches of fungi. Then, before them, stood a pole
planted as firmly as it could be wedged between two blocks of stone.

   It was surmounted by a skull—and not an ancient one, for there were
ragged scraps of flesh still clinging to the bone. On the supporting rock
there was a wide smear of blood, now a lure for insects and flying things.
   Skritek markings. Kadiya had seen such before. So did the saurians
declare boundaries or set trail signs. A line of rocks behind this pole
marked the wall of some long vanished building. They scrambled over to
face water once again, a narrow tongue of it looping out of a lake of some
size. Plain to see on the lake's edge was a stinking mass of what had once
been water reed now brought down by the plague's touch—a clear sign
that their quarry must have taken to the water here.

   If there had been transportation waiting for that other party there was
none for them. Jagun swung down to the water's edge well away from the
tainted reed bank. Reversing his spear he used the point to dig into the
reed screen. His vigorous thrusts brought out of hiding a form of craft
Kadiya had never seen before.

   Unlike the well-fashioned skiffs built by the Oddlings, this was a lumpy
platform of heavy branches interwoven as tightly as the thorn brush walls.
In fact as it came into open view through the hunter's urgings, the girl
could see that it was fashioned from just such branches, interlocking
thorns helping to keep it together. But those spikes which would have
pointed upward and outward had been broken off and a matting of reeds
plastered with mud covered it.

   The lumpy raft looked far from journey worthy, and Kadiya wondered if
they dared trust it. Yet having freed it from hiding, Jagun boldly sprung
out on it, balancing himself against the sudden sway and dip, then sank
his spear into the bottom mulch to anchor it while he jerked his head in a
gesture for them to join him.

   It was a craft far from comfortable or safe. They had to arrange
themselves and their packs in the middle to balance it before Jagun and
Smail used poles which had been half hidden in the mud to work them
away from shore and toward the wider part of the lake.

   As on each previous morning since beginning their journey, they took
the precaution of greasing their skins against insect attacks. Here there
seemed to be a new type of flying bloodsucker which was not banished by
the usual method, yet they dared not move to beat them off because of the
precarious state of their transport. Kadiya tried to be as stoic as possible
against these pest attacks even as she felt and saw spots of blood on her
hands, and felt those which must now speckle her face.

  Their craft moved on with Jagun and Smail working hard to keep them
parallel with the left bank. She set herself to watch for any sign of the rot
there, to betray the passing of the one they hunted. As they went, the
brush gave way to much taller vegetation which might have been called
trees, save that they had not one trunk but several.

  These trunks joined with drooping branches and reached out over the
water to form crooked arches. At intervals they saw a stirring in the water
beneath the widest of those which suggested that life lurked there.
However, so far those spaces were, Kadiya deemed, too narrow to conceal
any Skritek hunter.

   Because they had encountered no guards Kadiya believed that the
Skritek felt safe enough within their own territory not to take the
precaution of placing a sentinel rear guard.

   Continually tormented by the bloodsuckers, they pushed slowly on. So
far there had been no sighting of any plague spot on the bank. Then
Kadiya was suddenly deterred from her restrained slapping by a surge of
warmth, stronger than the steaminess which appeared to issue from the
dark lake through which they poled.

    Though it had been inert since she had used it for the scrying, her
amulet was again showing life. Cautiously she drew it out from beneath
her mail shirt. The imprisoned trillium appeared almost alive as the
amber glowed around it. Was it again a guide? It was tuned to Power and
if there was some source of Power ahead now the amulet could well be
answering.

   She drew the attention of her companions to what she held and then
edged a little along the center portion of the rude raft, aiming the amulet
at the left-hand bank. For, if she turned it ahead or in the opposite
direction, it immediately dimmed.

   Here taller and taller branches swung out over the water. The arches
formed by the roots were now nearly high enough for their heads to clear,
though Jagun kept the craft well away from any such experiment.

   No sign of the plague, but all at once the amulet moved in Kadiya's
hold, and had she not instinctively tightened her grip it might even have
leaped from her grasp.

   "That way!" Kadiya pointed straight at one of those root arches, a tall
and very thick one. The growth which it supported must have been very
old.

   Jagun alertly swung their raft left and a moment later they were under
the shadow of the arch. Nor was there any sign of bank ahead. Rather they
viewed more of the arching roots, forming a crooked roofing which led
into true darkness. They might be entering some stream emptying into the
lake at this point though Kadiya could detect no current pulling at the
raft.

   She stared ahead seeking the betraying slime patches. However, if those
they followed had come this way that seeder of foulness had not touched
anything which could carry the blight.

   Now they passed under a fourth arch. With each the light had dimmed
more, for overhead the tree growth had closed in to form a real roof,
keeping out the wan daylight. There was the smell of muck and rank
vegetation here but none of the putrid whiffs which had alerted them to
danger before.

   Jagun took to the fore of the raft, using the pole with the dexterity of
long practice while Smail moved with care to the other side, bending and
raising his own pole in unison with the hunter.

   Somewhere ahead there must be a source of Power, of that Kadiya was
sure. But for good or ill? The amulet would react to a strong emanation of
evil as well as to the good which had fashioned it as a protection and
guide.

   At least its growing blaze gave them a spark of light as their unsteady
voyage continued. About them, as it had in the thorn-thicket tunnel, the
walls were closing in. However, it was not until later that Kadiya, having
turned the amulet a bit, saw a fraction of one of those walls. Wall it
was—ancient stone, dripping now with rank green water weed.

   The amulet caught a glint of eyes. A length of the moss wavered, broke
from a tuft and dropped into the water. So this place had its inhabitants
also.

  There was silence except for the sound of the poles being drawn forth
and then reset to push on. Then Kadiya heard an exclamation from Jagun,
saw in the glimmer of the amulet a sudden flurry as he drove his pole in
with greater force to end their advance and anchor them in this
underground streamway.

   Kadiya pulled up to her knees and held her hand forward, reaching
across the hunter's shoulder with that faint source of light. There was
indeed a barrier before them—and such a one as perhaps was proper to
see in eerie and forgotten places.

    She had seen the intricate webs of the roxlin once or twice in the outer
regions of the Golden Mire. But those had been small, the work of spider
creatures no larger than her thumb tip. This web, as perfectly structured,
filled the whole expanse before them from one dank wall to the other, from
water's edge up into the gloom overhead to a point they could not see in
this dark.

   Nor were they thin threads which formed the perfect circle. The strands
looked as thick as the cords on travel boots. And they were matted, some
places in thick layers, with the bodies of unlucky insects—and other
creatures. Iri one place was a lizard as green as the growth around them,
surely one of the things she had seen take to the water. Its body was no
light one, yet its weight hardly bent the cords which bound it.

   The roxlin were avoided. While they could not suck the life from large
prey, their bite was a danger, able to cause a wound very hard to heal. A
roxlin of the size to have woven this would be a formidable opponent.

   With one hand on Jagun's shoulder to steady herself as the raft rocked
alarmingly under her feet, Kadiya held the amulet above her head. Neither
wall showed any signs of a hiding place for a large creature. The Weaver
could only be concealed somewhere aloft. But the amulet's light held as
high as she dared reach picked up nothing. To touch that web would
perhaps bring the roxlin into view eager to inspect its captured prey.

   An attack from above would be perilous, perched as they were on such
a frail footing.

   Kadiya, still holding the amulet aloft, transferred it from right hand to
left. Then she drew the sword. Under her fingers the eyes seemed shut, yet
here no spear nor dart would do the job needed.

   "Give me room," she ordered softly, fearing voice sound alone might
bring an attack.
   Jagun drew to one side and a little back so Kadiya could inch forward,
at once feeling the raft answer ominously to the shifting of her weight. She
must be swift before it dipped too far. Having only two hands she would
not be able to save herself if that happened.

    Then an arm closed about her waist, steadying her. Jagun, though he
still kept tight grip on the anchoring pole, was lending her what assistance
he could.

   Quickly Kadiya aimed a sword swing at the web. Though her blade
lacked the point it did not go without an edge and that caught, for only a
fraction of time, before it cut through the web. A second such swing and a
third followed though she was tensely aware that any moment there might
come an attack from the roxlin.

  The rounded circles were in tatters, trailing into the water where
swirlings suggested that something was waiting to feed upon the feast
bound to the stickiness of the broken threads.

   Kadiya was astounded that there had been no answer from the creature
whose work she was now destroying with all the vigor she dared. That the
trap had been deserted was hard to believe. Yet the more damage she
wreaked upon that barrier the more she began to think it true.

   The light from the amulet now showed a jagged hole, fully large enough
for them to use. But suppose the maker was craftily waiting for their craft
to pass beneath it before it made its move?

   "Do we try now?" She depended upon Jagun's hunter's training, willing
to leave the decision to him.

  "Make ready!"

   She dropped down into the same position she had held before, aware of
Salin's fast breathing at her shoulder. She held ready the sword.

   Jagun urged his pole free, reaching out to plant it ahead, and the raft
rocked, shipping a little water as Smail copied his swing. They moved
forward at what Kadiya guessed was the best speed he could summon.
Involuntarily the girl hunched her shoulders as they passed under the
remnants of the web, still not believing that they would avoid reprisal
from the Weaver.
   Jagun's and Smail's concentrated efforts had them beyond the web in
only breaths of time. She heard Salin give a small whistling sound and
realized that the wisewoman must have been sharing her fears.

  "There is this," Jagun commented as their voyage continued. "We can
now be sure that those we hunt did not come this way."

  Was that good or bad, Kadiya wondered. Had the amulet, answering to
some other ancient emanation, drawn them away from the trail they
should have followed?

  Again she swung the amulet from side to side and caught glimpses of
only stone walls, slimed and dark. Then suddenly the raft grated on an
obstacle in the water.

   Once more Kadiya steadied herself and swung the amulet forward, this
time by its chain so that the limited light might reach farther.

   Rising out of the water before them was an incline of the same stone as
the walls. It was plain that they had come to the end of the streambed
way. Smail crowded by her and echoed Jagun's leap to that solid landing
place, uniting with the hunter in pulling their transportation further up
on the shelfing stone.

   Kadiya was quick to scramble out and push ahead. A moment later the
amulet light caught the first of a flight of steps leading upward. There was
no smell of the plague here.

   She turned to help work the raft out of the water enough so that it
might not be swept away. Then she shouldered her pack as Jagun and
Smail took up theirs. Salin, leaning on her staff, was not far behind as they
turned to that stairway. Here Kadiya took the lead as the light of the
amulet was all they had as an aid.

                    Chapter Fourteen

  ON THE THIRD OF THE WIDE STEPS KADIYA stopped abruptly.
From below the water sighed against the landing stone, appearing to ebb
and flow with a trace of current they had not noted during the voyage.
However, now she caught another sound, faint, hardly more than a
vibration, through the stone about her. The girl could not put name to it,
yet it brought an inner chill.

  Jagun's whisper hissed:

  "Skritek!"

   To continue to climb was perhaps the act of a fool, but in her hand the
amulet glowed with an ever increasing fire. They were certainly drawing
close to a very strong core of Power. The Drowners were thought to
possess no wisdom, no weapons save their fangs, claws, and some crude
spears and clubs. They accomplished their most successful raids mainly by
stealth. Yet she and her companions were now well into their home
territory, and who knew what forces they could muster here?

  It was not Salin's voice but the wisewoman's thought which came now.

  "These pay honor—they do not hunt."

  The certainty in the Uisgu's statement made Kadiya accept it. But
whom did those scaled monsters honor? Some chieftain or First of their
own—or that thing which had spread death in its passing?

   There was no going back; they could only proceed with all the caution
they could summon. At least Jagun's senses were well tuned for just such
situations as this.

  Resolutely Kadiya started on. Though she expected otherwise, the
sounds did not grow any louder. In fact they appeared to fade at times.

   In competition to the glow of the amulet, Kadiya became aware of a
second source of light on the stairway that increased as she took each step.

   The light radiated from the top of that flight, but the beam was broken
as if filtered through patterns of small openings.

   Kadiya allowed the amulet to fall back against her breast, half covering
it with her fingers. The heat within it was more than mere warmth. It now
approached a burning point, and she had to will herself fiercely to keep
her flesh pressed against it.

  That outer light increased suddenly and dramatically as the stairway
ended. Across its upper entrance was a barrier—seemingly a screen which
had been deeply carved, allowing light to stream through curves and
angled apertures.

   She had seen something akin to this before! There were passages within
the walls of the Citadel of Ruwenda—part of a system of secret and hidden
ways. Many of these had been discovered, and in Kadiya's childhood she
had dared Haramis or Anigel to follow her into those forgotten ways.
Some of them were hidden by portions of wall which were pierced by
ornamental fretwork. From without, these appeared to be no more than
fanciful decoration, but in truth they furnished light, air, and spying
places for those lurking along the hidden ways.

   They were faced now by just such a screen. From its other side the light
was strong. Kadiya moved to the right to allow the others room on that
ledge which topped the stair so that all might share her vantage point.

   Beyond was a room. The walls were of the same time-resistant white
stone as those in the city of the Vanished Ones. Placed at either end were
hooks from which lamps swung by chains. Those burned smokily as they
must have done many times previously as the walls were discolored with
fans of black soot.

   The surface they illuminated was as deeply carved as the one behind
which Kadiya and the others stood. Perhaps it had once also been painted
to highlight some of those carvings; Kadiya was sure she could trace dabs
of red, blue, a touch of much faded yellow.

   This was no picturing of any form of life. Rather the swirls and circling,
the jutting rosettes, the meaningless, twisting lines, were eye-bewildering
puzzles.

   Those in hiding stiffened. Skritek jabber suddenly sounded. Kadiya
closed her hand once more over the amulet, wincing against the heat of
the amber but intent that none of the glow would be seen. How effective
their screened hiding place would be no one knew but she was completely
certain they must witness what passed here.

  Through the door to their left, the only visible entrance into this
windowless chamber, there emerged a strange company.

  Jiggling from one clawed foot to the other advanced a Skritek. On its
lizardlike head was mounted a skull which might be from one of its own
kind, and yet was so much larger it suggested there had once existed a
giant form of the species. The exposed fangs of this head gear were stained
red and in the eyeholes were fastened the glow insects which served all
swamp dwellers for lights.

   Besides the skull which it wore as a crown the Skritek, after the
customs of its kind, had little in the way of clothing. Its scaled shoulders
supported twin belts drawn across the body, crossing on the chest and
back. From them dangled bones strung close enough together to rattle as
the creature walked. Around its paunchy waist was another belt. This was
apparently of fur patched skin, which supported the sheath of a knife,
almost long enough to be termed a sword, as well as a large pouch. In one
hand the creature held a pole from which dangled another skull, this one
obviously human in contour.

   Reaching the center of the chamber the Skritek wheeled to face the
wall. Raising the staff, it waved that sign of office overhead and brought
the butt down against the stone floor in a steady beat which matched the
harsh rumble of the mutter springing from its fanged jaws. It was, Kadiya
thought, engaged in some kind of ritual.

   The stench of Skritek was strong and speedily grew as two more of the
creatures entered. These did not wear the skull headdress, and they
carried crude spears instead of skull headed poles. Once within they
moved back until their shoulders near touched the screen behind which
Kadiya and her companions stood.

   While the skull crested leader continued a rasping chant, there entered
another. That shriveled, plague eaten figure Kadiya had seen in the
scrying basin shambled into the full light of the two lamps. Behind it, after
a noticeable gap, were four more spear-bearing Skritek.

   The stench of their body odor, together with that foul effluence given off
by the plague, would conceal any scent natural to her and her company,
Kadiya hoped—though that had been well tempered by the herb paste they
smeared on daily to ward off insect attacks. At least the girl had caught no
sign from that foul company that those spying had been detected.

   Having given a last and mighty bellow, the skull wearer brought down
the staff with a final vigor, then turned halfway so it now faced the plague
striken one. To Kadiya the latter was a more fearsome sight than the
swamp demons, for here one of the fine bodies she had seen in the city
statues was eaten into a form of disgust and dread.

   Nearly as bent as Salin, skin raddled and pitted with suppurating
ulcer-like spots, its head resembling a skull covered only with the thinnest
shaving of skin, this was a nightmare.

  Yet as it moved forward, the skull crowned Skritek not only fell to knees
but groveled, facedown before that monstrous thing.

   The thing halted, swaying as if it found difficulty in keeping erect. One
arm arose jerkily sending out drops of yellowish liquid which spattered the
floor as it gestured.

   Pain exploded in her head so suddenly Kadiya nearly reeled against the
screen. Only Jagun's outflung arm steadied her. It was as if there was a
din, a discordant roaring in her head. She bit her lip hard and fought to
close her mind against it.

   On the floor the prostrate Skritek writhed, perhaps experiencing some
of the same torment as Kadiya now fought. The monster regarded its
worshiper with eyes surrounded by great wrinkles, so buried in loose flesh
as to be hardly visible. It made a movement with one foot, spurning the
skull topped staff, and then lurched toward the wall.

   With a visible effort it straightened. Both of those poison dripping arms
moved out. Fingers, which appeared rotted to the bone, touched four
places in the intricate patterning of the stone.

  There came a sound as if the stone itself was protesting vigorously
against what was demanded of it. Then a slit opened.

   Out streamed a light as red as the flames of a vigorous fire. The
creature tottered forward until those billows of light wrapped it around.
Then it was gone.

   The prostrate Skritek arose to hands and knees, saurian head up,
turned to the wall into which both the flames and the thing which had
summoned them had vanished. Then the priest—if priest this skull
crowned one was—got to its feet and rounded on the guards, barking out
orders which sent them quickly to the door.
   However, the leader lingered behind, now moving close to the wall. In
Kadiya's mind surged something more than that blast which had been the
communication of the plague sower to his following. This Skritek was avid
for knowledge, in a way resentful that such had not been shared.

   With the point of that staff the Drowner touched the places which must
release the lock upon that doorway, touched them first tentatively, and
then with some pressure. But there was no answer. Kadiya's mind touch
picked up bafflement and the beginnings of anger.

   At length the Skritek gave up the vain attempt to solve the secret and
left the chamber, thumping the pavement ill-temperedly with the pole.

    Kadiya had to jerk her hand away from the amulet. The heat there had
flared too high to touch with her fingers. Not only that, but it was rising of
its own accord. In her a need was arising…

  A door—to open a door—to follow… The remnants of her small stock of
prudence argued against the urge.

  "Jagun… Salin…" She wanted reassurance, some aid from them to
understand this compelling impulse now possessing her.

   "Farseer." The hunter's words were in her mind and she held to them as
a defense against the need which gripped her. "This is a place of great
Power."

   "Yes," Salin agreed, "but, King's Daughter, it is neither of good nor evil.
It will answer either call upon it."

   "But will it aid or entrap?" Kadiya demanded. "There is something
pushing me now. I will not be swept into that place beyond the wall." Her
determination fought that pressure. Just as she had been driven through
the monsoon to the lost city, so now there was eating into her the
compulsion to go beyond the screen, to face that other wall, to follow the
monster who had broken its ancient seal.

   Kadiya edged along the screen, her will unable to still this other set
upon her. Though none of the Skritek remained, there was no assurance
that they would not return. Yet now Jagun and the others were following
her, as if drawn in the same fashion as she.
   When they sidled into the room beyond the screen the hunter and the
Uisgu youth did not approach the wall holding that secret way but rather
turned their attention to the entrance through which the party of the
enemy had come. Smail had darts ready between his fingers, those made
of the thorns and dipped in viper venom. Jagun handled his spear as one
waiting orders to attack.

   Step by step, her will overridden by her body, Kadiya was pulled on.
The talisman still burned against her. Now she sensed something else, a
kind of surge and retreat, then surge again, as if some force struggled for
freedom, was baffled, then would attack once more.

   With care she avoided those shiny yellowish spots on the stone floor
which marked the path of the destroyer. Upon the wall carving she saw
similar dots of glowing rot where those wasted fingers had touched. It was
not in her to place her own hands in the same contact, unless she could
burn off the poison with the sword.

   Kadiya drew her talisman. Once more the blade below the pommel was
warm, though it did not bum with the same bitter force as the amulet. She
looked down to see that the lid over the great eye was lifting. Raising the
weapon the girl attempted to focus that orb upon the poison marked
spots.

   But the blade fought her control. She could not hold it steady. The
beam burst from the top eye, was joined almost at once by those of the
other two orbs. However, though she clenched her grip to hold it, the
sword twisted and turned as if she were indeed powerless.

   The tripled beam shot forward right enough, but not at the spot where
she had tried to aim it. It was choosing its own goals.
Here—there—there—and there—that light pulsed forth to touch parts of
the sprawling pattern—save none were the same the monster had chosen.

   Once more there came that sound of a reluctant opening. Then the light
flooded about her. This was no red of flame… rather it was sunlight bright.
With it came something else: that fragrance she had known in the garden
from which she had taken the weapon she had just now used as a key.

   The goldenness engulfed her as the flames had engulfed that other. In a
breath of time the chamber in which she had stood was gone. Kadiya
gasped; it seemed that she could not draw air into her lungs, that she was
in a place with no air. There was another sensation—that of being drawn
up and up, whirling as if a mighty storm wind had lapped her round to
play with her as a monsoon tempest played with leaves and branches it
tore from plants and trees.

   As suddenly as she had been so lifted she was lowered, and fear caught
at her. The force of the wind might well dash her to the earth. Her half
strangled breath came only in painful gasps. That perilous descent began
to slow. Her feet gently touched a solid surface. The force which had held
her now steadied her until her balance was secure.

  But the glare of the golden light was still blinding and she could see
nothing, not even the sword which she knew she still held.

   Kadiya blinked and blinked again. When she closed her eyes
momentarily she could still see the savage brilliance against the lids.
However, that was fading at last. Now when she dared to look again, the
golden glare was dimming, breaking up, as might a thinning mist in the
swamplands.

   She stood in a chamber so large that the other end appeared nearly the
length of a street lane away. The pavement under her shabby and water
worn boots was patterned in soft colors as if a woven carpet had been laid
over it. Those colors faded, joined, mingled in designs which seemed to
ease her light dazzled eyes as she studied them.

   The walls were hung with strips of soft stuffs which were white but
carried golden symbols she recognized from the scrolls in the library room
of the city—writings which she could not read.

   A tendril of soft blue smoke, heavy with that flowery fragrance, curled
toward her from the left and Kadiya looked in that direction. There stood
a block of stone inset with the blue-green metal secret to the Vanished
Ones. The block might be hollow for from it arose a plant such as she had
never seen. Its sturdy stem was perhaps as tall as she herself, the leaves as
long as her arms, but what that stem bore was the true wonder.

   There was a seeming giant of a three petaled flower like those she had
known all her life, the sign of her house, a minute bud of which was sealed
into her amulet. But instead of black, these huge petals were golden, a gold
which glistened with an overlay of minute, colored specks as though it had
been rainbow dusted.
   Even as Kadiya watched that magnificent flower moved on its stalk to
incline in her direction. Never in her life had Kadiya known such wonder
and awe. Slowly she lowered the sword. Without consciously willing it she
sank to her knees, but she did not bow her head. She could not; the flower
itself seemed to draw her eyes aloft.

  There arose a trilling. From the flower in some fashion? Kadiya could
not tell, though in this place she would accept any wonder.

   She lifted the sword by its pointless blade, held it in some vague idea of
a salute. The eyes were all open now, but they did not shoot forth any fiery
rays.

   "Great One…" Kadiya accepted that this was a thing of Power. Perhaps
not of intelligent life as she had always known it, but life equal in its way
to her species.

  "Great One," she began again. "I have been called." She still held the
sword, one-handed now as she groped to bring out the amulet as well. The
amber appeared as a ball of gold here, nearly equal in hue to the flower.
Within it the Black Trillium was stark.

  Once more that trilling answered her. She was saddened that she could
not understand. Had she any right to stand in this place? Was she being
questioned? On the chance that she was, she spoke for the third time.

   "Great One, I am she who is one of three in Ruwenda—in the great land
of the mires. This was my birth gift from the Archimage Binah." She
touched the amulet. "This," now she held the sword higher, "was won
when I followed the geas laid upon me after Ruwenda fell to the evil ones. I
strove to return it when my labor was over, but the earth from which it
was grown refused it. And, Great One, it led me here when I trailed a new
darkness through the land. I am Kadiya, King's Daughter, but I have
chosen the swamps. Any evil which touches them is my concern. Great
One, today I have seen this evil come before me through the wall gate—

  "Not so!"

   Kadiya's head snapped around. They had gathered very silently—or else
she had been too ensorcelled by the flower to hear. Three of them—

  Her eyes widened. Vanished Ones! And no statues to be wondered at
and dreamed over.

                      Chapter Fifteen

  NEITHER DID THEY HAVE ABOUT THEM ANY of the misty clouding
which had been a part of the One she had met before. To her eyes they
were as much alive as she.

   They were taller than she, even as she topped the Oddlings—the
Oddlings! For the first time since she had won through the golden haze to
the temple. Kadiya remembered her companions. A quick glance right and
left showed her that she stood alone.

   She set the sword point-down on the flooring, but kept her hand below
the pommel so that the open eyes were still visible. In spite of the awe
which held her fast she eyed these others defensively.

   They were two men and a woman. Their garments were few and so
finely woven that through them their bodies could be plainly seen. The
men wore belts, one over each shoulder crossing on the breast. These
flashed with white and green gems, and at that crossing was set a large
gemmed medallion. Another belt at waist level, even more ornamented,
supported a kilt not quite knee length. Covering feet and rising nearly to
the knee were footgear which glistened with a silver sheen.

   The woman who stood a little behind had a loose shift-like garment,
fastened on the shoulders with broad brooches also gem set and belted
with as complex a girdle as those of her companions. She wore also the
high sandals on her feet.

    The clothing was in contrast to their skins which were dark as those of
the Labornoki plains dwellers who worked under the sun. Though the men
appeared beardless their heads were covered with curling hair trimmed
close to the skull. The woman's hair had not been so tightly cropped, locks
falling to brush her shoulders.

   However, it was their features which made Kadiya catch her breath.
For of these three, two she had seen before—appearing carven in stone
leagues away from this place. One she could even put name to—
   "Lamaril!" He was the living embodiment of that statue which, hacked
free of its armor of mud dried hard as iron, had pointed her way to the
lost city when she had first sought it. Lamaril, who Jagun had said legend
hailed as a great warrior against the Dark.

   The woman she knew also, but not by name. Her likeness stood to the
left on the fourth step of the garden stairway.

   Certainly none of the three showed any signs of welcome. Both the
woman and Lamaril were frowning. It was the third of their company who
spoke.

   "Who are you—what are you—who has dared the Gate?" His cold
demand shook Kadiya out of her blank astonishment. Her chin came up
and she faced the three squarely, yet one hand sought the amulet and the
other tightened on the sword.

   "I am Kadiya, King's Daughter to Krain who ruled in the Citadel of
Ruwenda. It is set upon me to hold the mire lands against the Dark. We
are those who came after your people departed."

   "Mire lands," the man repeated. "You name a place we do not know, yet
you have come through the Last Gate as one who has full right. And we
heard your babble that you followed evil hither. There is no evil in this
place!"

   Now it was Lamaril who spoke. "You called upon my name, you who say
that you are King's Daughter. Yet I have never seen you before. What
mischief would you stir by naming me?"

   His mouth set sternly, but Kadiya refused to be daunted by the coldness
in his look.

    "I have seen your likeness, not your person." She did not know what
title of honor she should grant him and at the moment she did not care.
"There is a figure of you on guard—though long ago it was mud buried
and it was the enemy which chipped it free. Jagun of the Nyssomu named
you to me then as a mighty captain who stood firm against the Dark in a
troubled time."

   His sternness of feature was suddenly gone. Now he showed
astonishment, as one who might have heard a silent stone give voice.
  Kadiya pressed what she felt was a small advantage. "And you," she
addressed the woman directly, "I cannot name you. Yet your likeness, too,
remains in the city of the fair garden, the Place of Learning. It stands
guard on the stairs which lead to that same garden."

   "Yatlan!" The woman pressed forward now. "Yatlan," she repeated and
there was a soft note in her voice. She raised one hand, half extended it
toward Kadiya. "You who have come, what is Yatlan now?"

   "A city forgotten. No," the girl corrected herself, "forgotten by most.
But it has its indwellers. They call themselves Hassitti and they have made
efforts to hoard safely all which was left. There is the garden"—Kadiya
raised the sword to hold it fully into view—"this was born of the garden.
Binah, the Archimage, laid it upon me and my two sisters at birth to be
the saviors of Ruwenda. She gave me a root which guided me to the city
and there I planted it in the ever fruitful garden to become… this, and
later the third part of a most powerful defense to save our country.

    "Each of us found a part. Haramis, my mage sister who has become
Binah's successor, wielded those parts into a mighty whole. Once that had
served us well it separated again, returning to each of us that portion we
had been geas-led to find. I was ruled by a great need to return it to the
garden, but when I planted it again there was no change. Thus I knew that
its task and mine was not yet accomplished." She had been speaking faster
and faster, a desire to spill forth all forcing her to it.

  "Archimage Binah!" The man who had first addressed her interjected.
"She who chose to remain—you have seen her?"

   "She set upon me the geas. But her rule was nearly done. Her last
attempt to hold the Dark from the land weakened her too much. She chose
my sister Haramis to come after her, then she died."

  "Binah!" The man put his hand uncertainly to his head. "Her name—
remembered in the wasteland!"

  "You spoke of evil which you followed… here! Something which could
not be true…" Lamaril once more addressed Kadiya. "How did you find the
Last Gate—and why?"

   The girl flushed. His disbelief was very apparent, and somehow that
realization brought bitterness.
   Placing tight rein on the stir of her old impatient anger, Kadiya began
her tale with the finding of the ancient message strip, the unease of the
Hassitti dreamer. Step by step she covered her journey to Jagun's village,
retold the coming of Salin and Smail, described what they had all seen in
the scrying bowl. She was aware as she continued her tale that the three
were listening very closely. When she mentioned the western mountain
country there had been a quick hand-to-belt gesture from Lamaril, as if he
wished to free some weapon.

   At her description of the plague, their expressions changed. There was
horror in the eyes of the woman. But they did not interrupt and Kadiya
brought her account to an end in a rush with the tale of what had
happened in that strange room of the carven wall.

  "So I came here," she ended.

   Lamaril's hand lifted from his belt and reached out toward her—or
rather toward the sword. There was a trilling as she had heard before. The
great golden flower moved. From it drifted a wisp of rainbow motes such
as embellished its petals. Those swirled outward and then down to lock
upon her weapon's pommel, bringing specks of brightness to the lid edge
of each eye.

   "It was red… this light which welcomed the diseased one… red."
Though that did not have the inflection of a question, Kadiya answered
the woman.

  "Like flames from a fire which wrapped around, drew him… it…
inward. But I did not touch the same key places," Kadiya repeated.
"This"—she raised the sword a little—"chose for me."

  "Into Varm's sanctuary," Lamaril said. "One of the sleepers… but how
awakened?"

   "I do not know of any sleepers." Kadiya thought that question directed
to her. "The Hassitti said that the Power which Orogastus called upon
could set askew the balances, that perhaps it freed some evil before he was
destroyed by the talisman of the Three. I have wielded a small Power, but I
am not learned in such things. I do not understand them even though I
was marked from birth by Binah to serve my people."

  He might not have paid any attention to what she said, but was rather
thinking along another line. "With Varm, there is Power and enough. We
discovered that when we dealt with him before. King's Daughter," now he
did speak to Kadiya, "from your account you have been sent, led, brought
to That Which Abides." He glanced up at the flower on the altar. "That
accepts you; we can no longer question."

   Kadiya gave an inward sigh of relief. Now her thoughts turned to the
three who had not come with her. Had they been indeed left behind in
that Skritek guarded shrine, or… dispatched elsewhere? She had so little
of magical learning. Jagun, Salin. and Small had made themselves a part
of her quest; she could not leave them to death behind.

   She spoke up boldly. "Those who came with me, are they still in that
place of doors and gates? Or have they been captured and taken
elsewhere? They are my people and I hold responsibility for them."

  The woman shook her head. "They could not come with you. Only
because you held that from Yatlan"—she pointed to the sword—"could you
make entrance. They must remain where they were."

   "Jagun will not give up! He will seek to follow and perhaps so be taken
by the Skriteks. If this gate of yours has opened once, surely it can again
and let me back to my people. That monster I trailed is plainly not here
and there remains the fact that it is he whom I hunt."

   Now Lamaril shook his head in turn. "King's Daughter, we cannot open
the Gate save when all agree and lend their strength. It remains locked."

   That he spoke the truth Kadiya did not doubt. The awe—and the unease
born from that awe when she had first sighted these strangers—was
growing stronger though the need for telling her story had lessened it for a
while. No way back? She felt the heat of the amulet, the vibration of Power
in the sword. She was not ready to accept it yet. She could not return!

   However, she went with them as they started down a long hall. Her
sodden boots squelched across patterns and she was suddenly aware of the
strange figure she must make in this place of light, order, and beauty with
her stained and cracked shell mail, the battered helm covering most of her
tangled hair. For such a shabby figure to proclaim herself a warrior
against ancient evil was a farce. Kadiya bit her lip as she tried to match
her steps with those taller ones who walked with such swift grace.
   The lengthy chamber gave directly upon the open and Kadiya looked
out upon a land under a warm sun where there hung no hint of storm
cloud. Buildings of a clear white, over which played faint rainbow hues,
were scattered about like a handful of carelessly tossed shells, rather than
set in any pattern of streets as was Yatlan. Flowers and shrubs of brightly
colored leaves covered the ground between.

   People moved on small paths between the buildings. When they sighted
Kadiya and her escort, they began to gather. All were Vanished Ones and
they appeared to regard her with as much surprise as she had first looked
upon those in the temple.

   They were silent but Kadiya sensed what might have been a far-off
murmur in her head, and she believed that they were using mind speech
on a level she could not touch. The group gave way as Kadiya and the three
came toward them but several fell in to follow. She searched each face as
she went, wondering if she would be able to find among them others who
were represented among the guards in Yatlan.

   One such she did sight—another woman who joined the gathering
company. They approached a second building, this nearly as commanding
to the eye as that which the Hassitti had taken for dwelling and storage in
Yatlan. However, here no vines covered the walls and the growth about the
doorway had been tamed. The air was soft about her and there were
fragrances carried by every soft puff of breeze. Her wonder grew. Much
had been said of the Vanished Ones. It would seem that they chose to
dwell in a place which held more beauty than Kadiya had thought possible
for any land to produce.

  The portal appeared to have no door. Laramil took a step in advance.
Now he brought one hand against a shining plate beside the frame of that
opening. A series of musical notes rose and fell in answer.

  Kadiya saw only a solid shimmer of blue-green across the way. At the
sound of that message the curtain of light—for so she thought it—split
apart allowing them to enter.

   Here was a hallway. Along it a number of doors opened, each curtained
as far as she could determine with sheaths of light which shaded from
deepest blue to a pale green. One of these, well down the hall, split also
and then she was facing two who came from that doorway.
   The Vanished Ones she had first met had been awe inspiring—but these
two were true Power held in tight reserve. Kadiya stumbled, and then she
went to her knees. The Archimage she had always sensed had been one to
be given full honor. These two, woman and man, were such that Binah
might have served. The Power which radiated from the newcomers was so
strong that it could be felt, as one could feel the touch of the full sun at the
height of the dry season.

   In her hand the three eyes, now ringed with the gem-brilliant motes the
flower had shed upon them, were fully open and staring, as if whatever
animated the sword recognized a master energy to which they must
respond. The amulet also blazed high. Yet Kadiya herself felt diminished,
even though she had, she thought, made no false parade of what she was.

   "Daughter of a land we departed," it was the woman who spoke, "why
have you come to trouble us now? We had withdrawn as was right, for it
was because of stiff pride and dark choices we were forced into exile. We
left those whom we did not deal with fairly, those whose lives we
arrogantly shaped, to live in peace."

   Kadiya dared now to look straight at the speaker. "Great One, choices
may have been made in the past, but the land is not free. One of evil who
seems to be one of your race, though much disguised by a fresh ill, has
sown such death across the land as those you left cannot defeat. It was he
whom I followed and so came into this place of yours. Though I do not see
how such can abide with you here."

   "He does not," the man answered her. "That which is of Varm returned
to his lord; the gate he entered was not ours. However, that one of Varm
stirs—that is a thing of the Dark. Daughter of the new lands, take your rest
and be at peace. We have much to consider now."

   They were gone—gone as if they had been snuffed out candle-like,
though she had been certain they were as solid as she. Kadiya knelt, still
staring at the spot where they had stood. This was the way the misty one
of her first meeting in the garden had gone into nothingness.

   There was a touch on her shoulder and she looked around up into the
face of the woman who had accompanied her here.

   "King's Daughter, come. Rest and refreshment await you. In truth there
is much to be thought upon."
   Kadiya got shakily to her feet. Some of the radiance of the amulet was
spent; the eyes on the sword were half closed. That Power which had
drawn them open might have left them so, though she now felt none of the
usual exhaustion after their use. There was, though, a vast fatigue settling
on her. She was aware it had been a long time since she had eaten, and
her body's aches were now pressing on her.

   The woman escorted her down the hallway to a doorway curtained in
green which disappeared as they approached.

   Kadiya had known the comforts of the ladies' bower at the Citadel,
though at times she had been impatient with the need for such luxuries.
Those were as nothing compared to what she was offered now.

   She bathed in a shell shaped pool into which the woman dropped
handfuls of powder, raising a froth of soothing ease to banish the
discomforts of bruises, scratches, and all the other pains of rough travel.

   While she relaxed in this pleasure the woman had seated herself on a
stool. After she nodded briefly at Kadiya's thanks for such bounty she said
abruptly:

   "Tell me of Yatlan, far traveler. I am Lalan who was once of the inner
guard there. Sometimes I dream of wandering along its streets, of the
garden…" Her voice trailed away.

   "The city has magic in it," said Kadiya. "From afar it seems to be in
ruins as are all else of those places on the many islands. But within the
gates"—she hesitated—"it seems to wait just as the Hassitti wait."

   "The Hassitti." Some of the longing had vanished from the other's face,
now there was a slight smile curving her lips. "Those little ones! They were
always about and many were the tricks they played, bringing laughter
even when the heart was heavy. What of the Hassitti now, King's
Daughter?"

   Kadiya once again described her meeting with the dwellers in Yatlan,
going into more detail than she had earlier. She made much of the fact
that they had preserved as well as they could what they considered to be
the treasures of those who had left.

  Lalan nodded. "So were they always… savers of things. Would that they
could have come with us, for one misses their playfulness."

  "You could not bring them?"

   The woman shook her head. "The Gate would refuse any not of the
blood. When we chose this exile we did so for the good of those
others—those you call the Oddlings—and the Hassitti also. Those we raised
out of strange seed and the time came that they must grow untended to
become whatever they might be."

  "The Gate did not refuse me." Climbing from the bath, Kadiya toweled
her unruly hair.

   "No, and that is a matter not yet to be understood," Lalan answered.
She held out a garment of the same filmy material as she wore, not white
but a gray like the mist rising in the early morning from a river. The
shoulder brooches were of silver and set with stones shaped like bubbles of
water, transparent but flecked with rainbows. Kadiya put aside the linked
girdle laid by it, choosing rather her worn sword belt. She satisfied her
hunger with food not unlike that the Hassitti had set before her—fruit and
a bowl of creamy substance.

   When Kadiya had done, Lalan who had shared her meal still asked
questions concerning the swamplands. Perhaps, thought the girl, she had
set to do this for a purpose and was not just moved by her own curiosity.

   Kadiya had a question of her own. "Did the Great Ones in truth all leave
Yatlan? I met one—or someone there—who spoke of knowledge to be
gained. Was that real, or a dream, or did I hear a shadow speak?"

   Lalan's amazement was manifest. "Tell me more of this." She spoke
with the snap of an order. Kadiya obeyed.

   When she had done Lalan drew a deep breath. "So—in that much did
Carnot succeed. But for it to remain active for so long—" Again she gave a
sigh. "He was the one of us who refused to believe that our day was truly
past. Instead he swore that there would come after us some others worthy
to walk our ways. Up almost to the last he worked with all his Power, and
he possessed knowledge far beyond most. He strove to fashion that
appearance which would be ready to aid such followers—if they were of
the light."
  She studied Kadiya closely. "And so his messenger appeared to you."

  "Only once," Kadiya answered. "I hoped upon my return to Yatlan to
meet with it again, but I did not."

   "Power wears thin under the pressure of time. Perhaps making contact
only once exhausted what Carnot left; he had little time for its fashioning,
for he was injured to the death and was gone before our last retreat.
However, perhaps it served well, for it did set you on the path which
brought you here.

  "Now—we have talked for long and you must be well wearied. Shadow
Summoned. It is time for you to rest." As shadows deepened without she
ushered Kadiya into yet another chamber. This was narrow, but with a
window open to that fragrant breeze. In it, a bed which was fashioned of
one puff of quilted material upon another, rather like the mats of the
Oddlings.

   With the sword still at hand Kadiya stretched upon that softness which
yielded to and caressed her body. She gave a last murmur of thanks to her
hostess and her eyes closed.

                      Chapter Sixteen

   RED — A RED AS OF FRESH SHED BLOOD, LIKE a hideous rain after
some sky battle. Within the red moved things which that scarlet cloaked,
just as there came sounds which were too faint to the ear to be heard as
words, yet were of import.

   The bloody curtain billowed unceasingly as if within it a force troubled
air and life. Then Kadiya could see, no longer blinded by that spread of
flame.

   She gazed into a well of darkness where vast shadows hung heavy on
three sides about a great chair. In that seeming throne was a limp figure,
back bent, head on chest as if he lacked strength to lift it, hands
outstretched upon the arms of the seat. There was no covering on his
wasted body, save patches of yellow encrustation like wounds unhealed,
the flesh gone rotten underneath.
   Kadiya knew this to be the one they had trailed by the plague sign. Now
so gaunt was his body the girl thought he might be dead.

   The throne in which he lolled began to flush from black, as does a
firebrand awaken once more to flame. Stronger and stronger grew that
gleam, but the light did not vanquish the surrounding shadows; rather
they drew in closer. On the burning chair the body writhed and twisted,
the head came up and back. Eyes which did not hold any trace of sight
were open, a mouth from which the lips looked to be eaten away
grimaced. The creature might be shouting aloud in torment—but there
was no other sound to break that which rose and fell as an
undistinguishable chant.

   The fire touch appeared to eat into the body. Now the yellow
encrustations turned dark, were erased, perhaps burned away. The
skeleton frame filled out, covering fully the bones which had been clearly
etched under the skin only moments earlier. As the jaw relaxed the mouth
closed firmly. Once more it was apparent the eyes could see.

    Here sat now, straightening his back, holding hands before his face, as
if to view their renewed life, one of the Vanished Ones. There was in him
that same awe-inspiring Power which Kadiya had met in the two who
ruled here beyond the wall.

   But this was another place, well removed from the temple of the flower
and the room in which she had fallen asleep. Although she sensed she
slept, Kadiya was sure that what she watched was true.

   A length of shadow dropped down upon the man on the burning
throne. He caught at it, pulled it against him. Then he wore a corselet of
scales like unto those the Oddlings fashioned, save this one was of
glistening black which, with every movement of his body, showed a
running of scarlet which was like the play of flames.

  Once more he stretched forth a hand to the shadow, fingers crooked,
and a portion of that dusky cloak loosed. Now in his grasp was a rod
perhaps a third of a spear's length. Atop it formed a ball which lengthened
and modeled itself into the likeness of a skull, such a one as mimicked in
miniature that of the Skritek.

   The eye holes of the skull glared as red as the chair when the man
raised it high, his face a mask of victorious exultation. He arose, and the
throne on which he had suffered that change began to dull, taking on the
gray of spent ashes.

   Now he held the rod in both hands. His head bent and he blew into the
open jaws of the skull. With a quick turn of wrist he whirled it about.
From the jaws into which he had breathed there shot a beam of
yellow-green— that same color which had marked the plague.

    Straight at Kadiya it shot. Had he sensed her there? However, the blow,
if that it was meant to be, did not strike.

   There was a flash of fire again and then dark. She felt the caress of a
breeze as she opened her eyes. This was the room wherein she had fallen
asleep. Beyond the window a quiet glaze of dusk laid over the world.
Kadiya pulled herself up to see what might lay farther beyond. There was a
section of garden serene in the twilight and suddenly she felt as if she
must be free of walls, out into that place of quiet and beauty.

  Quiet and beauty, far removed from that place of dark and flame
wherein one had been granted new life and given a foul weapon to ensure
power.

   For she was sure that this had been a true dream as the Hassitti knew
like unto the scrying of Salin. She had actually seen something which had
happened afar.

   So needful was it to seek cleanliness, freshness, and the peace beyond,
Kadiya actually dropped from the window, instead of seeking a way out by
door. Under her bare feet was the softness of thick turf; around her a wall
of tall, flowering bushes, bending a little in an early night wind. She stood,
taking deep breaths of that scented air.

   That she must share what she had seen with those who now sheltered
her Kadiya knew, yet she shrank from its telling. It seemed as if the very
fact that she had been a witness in some way sullied her—that none could
pass through that blood-flame, look upon the Power which wrought so
mightily in that throne, without bearing some small stain.

  Kadiya took a step forward. Even remembering made her seem to smell
again the vile stench of the plague. She leaned forward to brush her face
against one of the large blooms, drinking in its perfume. One of the fire
spark insects she had seen in the garden of Yatlan halted for a second,
perched on her hand, fluttering its gem bright wings.

  "Yes," she spoke aloud to the night and the insect, "yes, this is…" She
sought for a word which would encompass all she felt at that moment.

  "Is what. King's Daughter?"

   The voice startled Kadiya. Her hand went to the hilt of the sword she
had belted on before she left the sleeping chamber. He had come from
around a tall bush and stood watching her with, she believed, something
of a challenge in his eyes.

  "Lamaril!"

   Soft footed he crossed the space between them. Before she might guess
his intent, his hand was beneath her chin, raising her head a fraction so
that he might look straight into her eyes.

   "You continue to name me, King's Daughter. Would you then bind me
in some fashion? What do you know of the uses of Power?"

  "Very little." With a twist she freed herself from that hold, her inner
peace now fled. "I have no reason to bind you, warrior."

  "Tell me of this likeness of me which you have seen."

   She repeated in a few words how she and Jagun had come upon the
mud buried mounds along the forgotten road and how the last one, freed
of its rank covering, had been the statue pointing the way to Yatlan.

  "Jagun knew old tales," she ended. "It was he who said that you were a
mighty hero of a last battle."

   For the first time she saw him smile, just such a shadowy lifting of lips
as Lalan had shown when Kadiya had told her of the Hassitti.

   "It is given few to know that they are so honored," he commented.
"Though old tales are often changed beyond belief. So—the outguard still
stands their ground even if they have been layered in mud. Now that gives
one to think. Erous, Nuers, Isyat, Fahiel and I—the last of them."

   "There are others—in the city, on the steps which lead to the great
garden," Kadiya said. "Women and men—are they guards also?"
  His smile was gone, but he nodded.

   "Yes." He spoke softly and his gaze shifted as if he saw beyond her now.
"There were many of us—and then few, few who won to the Gate. The land
itself arose at the last and spewed us all forth, both Dark and Light
together. King's Daughter—

   Kadiya interrupted him. "My name is Kadiya. If there is any Power
lying in names, then I give mine in full exchange."

   Again that small half smile on his lips. "Kadiya." He repeated her name
as if he tasted it. "That name is strange, but you bear it proudly. Lady of
Power. Tell me now, what of the old land? It must be far changed."

   "First tell me," she countered. "Where is there a chair of fire in which a
dying man may seat himself to be restored?"

  Smile was completely gone; golden eyes narrowed. "What know you of
Varm?"

   "Nothing save I have heard his name mentioned here. But I have
dreamed, and I believe, dreamed truly, even as one looks into a scrying
bowl." She told him of what she had seen of that place of fire and shadow.

   "So!" There was an odd note in his voice, as of weariness. "It rises
again. Perhaps it is endless, this struggle. But Uono and Lica must know of
this and speedily. Come!" His hand closed about her upper arm and he
drew her along with him to a garden path and down that to the front door
of the building which she had so unceremoniously left.

   This time his fingers on the plate beside that portal drummed heavily
and the sound which followed was deeper and more imperative, a demand
for attention.

   She had not tried to free herself from his hold for she sensed that this
was indeed a matter of great import and she felt at that moment his
presence was somehow akin to Jagun's, that he would stand behind her.

   Once more she came into the presence of the two who had made her
free of their hospitality. Swiftly Kadiya repeated the story of her dream,
seeing man and woman exchanging glances as she spoke.
   When she was finished, the man said with some of the same weariness
she had detected in Lamaril:

  "Once more—is there never to be an ending?"

   "Can there be?" questioned the woman. "For each thing there is an
opposite and the balance holds. Where there is light, dark abides, perhaps
so the light can be better known. However, Varm's Power is awake and I
think our battlefield lies waiting again. Save that the Gate is locked."

   "That Gate opens for no one!" the man declared, but Lamaril
interrupted:

  "There are the Guardians."

   "That is a task— " But the woman was not answering the Captain.
Instead she was looking full at Kadiya, measuring with a stern weighing,
so that the girl tensed as one facing an attack.

  "It could be done." The man was musing, and he too eyed the girl.

  Her initial awe of them had faded somewhat. Kadiya wanted to
understand.

   "Was I led here for some task, Noble Ones? And do you now hesitate to
tell me what that can be? The mires I have chosen with my free will. Those
are now riven with plague and perhaps other dangers. As long as this is
mine"—she touched the sword—"and not drawn back to that which sent it,
then I must follow the path it points."

  Still they were watching her with that measurement in their gaze.

   "You are of a people we do not know," the woman said slowly." Yet it
would seem that you have made the old land somewhat yours. If Binah
dealt with you, then she found you worthy. Tell us more, King's Daughter,
of your race and of the old land. For this is a matter which cannot be
decided without thought."

  The history of Kadiya's people had been impressed upon her in spite of
her childhood resistance to spending time over the ancient rolls instead of
wandering with Jagun. Kadiya strove now to put into order all she
remembered of that teaching. Of how her people had come overseas and
made the swamplands theirs, protected by the mountain barriers which
kept them safe for so long, those barricades balanced on the south by the
dense forests of Tassaleyo.

   She told of the draining of the polders in the north and of the tilling of
the water-freed land there, of their dealings with the Oddlings, of the fair
for traders at Trevista, and how her people respected the swamp dwellers
and between them there were often ties of friendship.

   "We are not a great people," she said, though she returned their gaze as
might an equal, "but we did well by the land. We served where we might,
held fast against the Dark. The Nyssomu welcome us, the Uisgu see in us
no danger. We do not intrude upon their lands except for trade, and they
are welcome on ours. Only the Skritek we fight—but then all who live in
the mire hold weapons ready against those."

  Kadiya tried to paint word pictures of her father's court at the Citadel,
spoke of the Archimage Binah's coming at the birth of the three sisters to
bestow on them the amulets of Power.

    Then came flooding the memories of blood, of cruel death, of horror, as
she retold the invasion from Labomok, the cruelty of Voltrik and his cold
master-servant Orogastus. There was her own quest, and that of Haramis
and Anigel, which ended in a clash of great Powers, nearly tearing apart
all they had known.

   She talked for a long time, seated in that room. Twice Lamaril had
moved from behind her, in his hand a cup from which she gratefully drank
to relieve her parched throat.

   Outside the windows, night deepened. With the coming of the gloom,
there had spread radiance from certain points high on the walls so that
she could see well the faces of those to whom she told her story.

   "Of my return to your Yatlan, what happened there"—she touched the
sword, an ever present weight at the shabby belt about her waist—"I have
already spoken. But what I have said of the mires—that is what passes
there now."

  "Yatlan," the woman named Lica repeated, and there was a soft note in
her voice. "Yatlan, where we left our farewell gifts in the everflowing
waters." She raised one hand, half extended it toward Kadiya. "You who
have come, how is Yatlan now?"

   "A city forgotten, but not despoiled." Kadiya remembered the treasure
of the fountain. "Your gifts lie undisturbed. Noble One. It has its
indwellers; they name themselves Hassitti and they have labored to hoard
safely all which was left behind. There is the garden…" Now Kadiya raised
the sword and held it fully into view.

   "This was born of that garden. Binah, the Archimage, laid it upon me
and my two sisters to be the saviors of Ruwenda. She gave me a root
which guided me to Yatlan and there I planted it in the garden. Out of it
grew what you see—the third part of a most powerful talisman to save our
country. Nothing else did I take from there." She thought fleetingly of the
necklet from the fountain.

  The woman stirred. "So much—so strange—this might be a tale of
another land than that we once knew."

  "It is the truth!" Kadiya held the cup away from her lips after another
swallow. It might be water she drank so, but it carried a faint taste she
could not identify—tart yet comforting to a dry throat.

   "We do not deny that, King's Daughter. It is your truth, which is the
truth of now. But part of it relates another darker and more threatening
truth.

   "We were—are—a people who seek always to learn." The woman spoke
slowly. "Secrets were wrested from the earth, from the fount of life itself.
We could command rock, sea, land. We grew—perhaps we grew too
mindful of the Powers we sought with such greediness.

   "We meddled. Out of the life we knew we brought new beings: those
you call Oddlings, and the Hassitti. We changed plant growth either to
yield food stuff or to please the eyes. For a long time we kept ourselves
occupied with such meddling and modelings.

   "However, Power draws Power. Those who wield it are never
satisfied—ever grasping for more. There were some among us who no
longer worked with that which was of nature, but rather sought to create
anew from other sources.

  "Power rose against Power. Others awoke in time to see where these
researches and acts led. There was a war—" She paused, and lines
appeared about her mouth as if she chewed upon some bitter thing.

    "We learned the Dark side of Power then. The land was riven apart, the
waters released to strike and overwhelm. We were no longer the same
country, for the mires had their birth in those days. Those most greedy for
the Dark loosed experiments of their own: the Skritek, even plants which
killed and feasted on their kills.

   "Cities were overwhelmed and fell and still we fought, force against
force, breaking new secrets loose from the earth under us and the sky
above. In the end Death strode always with us. Some of the Dark who had
loosed the worst of the Black Knowledge could not be slain. There
remained a handful of them.

   "Fleeing a last confrontation, they sought a refuge in the mountains.
There they had prepared a place of last resource, for they had a mighty
foreseer, one Varm." She nearly hissed that name. "But it did him and
them little good, for our curse was laid. If they came forth from their
hidey-hole all the ills of the world would strike them into rottenness.

   "Into this hiding place they went, save for Varm and two of his acolytes.
The others laid themselves in what were tombs, to sleep until the day that
Varm with his foresight had assured them would come when they would
rule again.

   "Our striking force had been hot on their trail but when they reached
that mountain hideaway Varm and his two were gone. However, they
sealed that place of sleeping death with strong magic which by all their
calculations would abide forever.

   "Varm had his own place." The woman paused. "To one who does not
know our learning this is hard to explain. You came through a barrier—a
barrier which was of time and space. This place is not in your world and
we who chose to come here cannot return. Varm also found such a refuge,
drawing on his own Powers to reach it. But because he was of Dark
instead of Light, he came not here.

   "What we must now believe is that one of those death sleepers was
freed from imprisonment, and that he sought Varm to gain from him that
which would bring forth his kin once more."
  Lamaril was at Kadiya's side. He touched her shoulder gently.

  "Kadiya, tell now again your dream."

   "I do not believe it was a dream," she said slowly. "I have not the
farsight though I have scryed. But this, I swear once more, is what I saw in
my sleep." And she repeated it all, trying not to forget a single detail, of
that chair of fire and he who had occupied it.

   Before any of her listeners could speak, Kadiya had a question for which
she almost fiercely demanded an answer:

   "You have said that you cannot return to the mires. Can this follower of
Varm do so? Can Varm himself? We are still striving to heal the wounds of
war. Must we face and fight an even greater enemy?" Not one question but
many and she felt the old cold deep within her as she impatiently waited
for an answer.

   The man spoke first. "King's Daughter, our road and Varm's have long
stretched in opposite directions. We accepted that there was no return.
Perhaps he has sought to find one. Or else the servant he called to him can
be armored to face return."

  Kadiya faced them squarely—her awe of them had been overcome.

   "Noble Ones, do you now say that there is no aid you can give us? Do
we lose our lives and our land to that creeping plague of the Dark? I do not
think that even Haramis with all her learning can summon up a weapon
against that!"

  "There is a way…" Once more she was aware of Lamaril beside her.
"Were not the Silent Ones left… perhaps for this very purpose? Here is one
who may summon them if you will."

   The woman's nod was abrupt. "This evil sprang from us. We cannot
remain unminding that it spreads again. There was an Oath sworn once.
Commander of the Sindona." Now she addressed Lamaril. "You wish to
hold by it?"

  "Lica. I do, and so do those others who swore it."

                   Chapter Seventeen
   KADIYA SHIFTED FROM ONE FOOT TO THE other. Gone was her
broken and battered shell armor, the dented helm, all her other
travel-worn clothing. Nor did she wear the gauzy robe. Rather her
shoulders were tightly clasped by chain mail fashioned from the
blue-green metal from the storehouse of the Vanished Ones. And below
that breeches of something as tough as well-cured leather and yet as
supple as the finest weaving her people knew.

   At her left side her arm curved around a new helm made with a
forepart like a half mask. When donned it fitted down as far as her mouth,
and she peered through eyeholes filled with greenish glass. It was encircled
with an embossed wreath in the form of trilliums, but these were yellow as
the great flower which, to her right, now moved slightly in its altar bed.

   They had told her what must be done, but certainly they had promised
her little help in the doing of it. And the strangeness of the task seemed to
make a matter of a bard's tale only to be marveled at. Still, those ranked
before her believed and so she must accept that such a thing could be.

  Six of them to the fore, with Lamaril at their head. Twelve ranked
behind, and she knew each face there—these were the people of stone, the
Guardians—save those she fronted were living and breathing.

   All were bare of body, nor did they carry weapons. Would they find the
armor, the arms they needed beyond the Gate? Among the scrap heaps
gathered by the Hassitti there was certainly much. But weapons? Unless
their weapons were far different from sword and spear.

   The great golden flower swung, shifting into the air those rainbow
particles. Uono and Lica advanced the far side of the altar. In the woman's
hand there was a bowl of golden hue, yet near transparent. The man
carried a flask of silver, widemouthed but no larger than could be easily
fastened at a belt— a sword belt as shabby and stained as the one Kadiya
wore.

   A trilling of song carried from the flower to the company massed
behind those who waited. Though Kadiya did not understand the words,
she felt the swell of that invocation.

  Trumpets might awaken her own people to battle. The shell horns of
the Oddlings would sound harsh and rough toned here. This was not an
urging on to victory, it was a farewell. There was a chance of return for
those who waited, yes, but it was only that, and none could build upon it.

   These were not her kind. She was not sure that she, no matter how
strong the cause, could do what they were about to do. Her eyes kept going
back to Lamaril. She saw not the one who stood before her, but rather that
other, mud stained, footed in the muck of the swamplands.

  Three of their timeless days she had waited and twice he had sought
her out. He had asked pointed questions, the inquiries of a fighting man
about to order troops to battle.

   Trust—they accepted her with trust. She had known the exultation of
victory against odds when they had gone up against Voltrik and
Orogastus. This moment was deeper than any she had known before.

   They had told her that this was a place lifted out of time as she knew it.
There was no past, the future did not matter; there was only the present.
She must step back into time from a place which had enfolded her with
peace far greater than even the garden of Yatlan had bestowed—for that
garden was but a pale echo of what was known here.

   The singing melded into the trilling, the trilling into the singing. On its
altar the flower began to move faster. Lica stepped forward, set the bowl
with precision at the foot of that swaying stem. Out of the heart of the
blossom there arose a puff of golden particles, pollen shed by the flower's
movements. The waiting bowl began to glow as the rain of tiny motes
gathered within.

   From the Vanished Ones the song soared. Perhaps they encouraged the
flower to that shedding. When the bowl was half filled, the huge flower
shuddered and drooped, its triangle of petals no longer so stiffly apart, its
rich color fading.

   Lica knelt before the altar. Her hands dug into the dark soil which
rooted the plant there. Head flung back, eyes closed, lines of strain
deepened about her mouth.

   Kadiya could feel it! Just as her energy fed the eyed sword when she
was using it, so was this woman of the Vanished Ones giving of her
strength to feed the flower.
   The singing grew softer, the trilling a mere scattering of notes. Lica
slumped forward until her forehead rested against the edge of the altar.
The flower straightened, its petals once more crisply apart, renewed.

   It was Kadiya's turn now. She had been drilled in what must be done as
a part of this alien ceremony which she did not understand.

   She placed her helm on the floor and carefully edged along to stand
beside Lica. Reaching over the woman's bowed shoulder, the girl took up
the basin with both hands. What it held she knew was irreplaceable. She
had been warned that such a shower of flower dust could not be
summoned again.

   Holding it breast high before her, Kadiya turned and descended the one
step to the floor of the temple. Then she went forward.

   Lamaril—he was the first. She was still not sure of what would happen,
only that she must not lose hold on what she held, that which would bind
those of this place to her, to what lay beyond the barrier she had passed to
reach this place.

   As she came before the Commander of the Sindona she raised the bowl
a fraction. His hand came up, his fingers dipped to stir what rested
within. A tiny spiral of the pollen climbed to wreath Lamaril's head.

   Mist widened from that thread of gold, lost its rich sheen, became a
cloud which descended to cloak the man from head to foot. An end of
thread emerged from that mist, spun its way back to the basin. Lamaril
was gone.

   Kadiya swallowed, took firmer grip on what she held. To be told that
this would happen, and then to see it—they were two very different things.

  One by one they vanished as she stood before each and watched. Yet the
bowl was no fuller, no heavier in her hand. This was magic such as she had
never witnessed.

   Once the last of those who waited was gone, Kadiya came back to the
altar with the bowl. Lica was on her feet, although she drooped against the
stone wherein the flower was planted. She was plainly still drained of
strength.
   She put out her hand and Kadiya delivered the bowl to her. Then Lica
turned to where Uono stood, the widemouthed flask ready. Into that she
poured the pollen, so slowly that it might be falling grain by minute grain.
Uono fitted the top over the mouth. He moistened the forefinger of his
right hand and held that up before the flower. Once more it loosed some of
the rainbow dust, and Uono smeared it carefully to seal lid to container.

   Once that was done, he held it out to Kadiya. The girl took a deep
breath; her fingers closed about the flask. She hooked it to her sword belt,
making very sure that the fastening was tight.

   Having done so, she took up once more her helm. What farewell could
she make? They had done what they could for the sake of a land no longer
theirs. She could mouth words assuring them that she would obey orders,
but that much they already knew. She had always been quick of speech,
even as she was often rash of action. Now there were no words, perhaps
not even thoughts to be offered.

    The two by the altar did not seem to expect such from her. Uono
gestured and Kadiya obeyed. She turned with Lica on one side, the tall
fellow Councilor on the other. With them as escort, she came to face a
wall.

   Even now Kadiya could not be sure of what might happen and she
believed that they shared her unease. She could only do what seemed right
to her.

   Kadiya drew the sword. Those eyes, the edges of the lids still encrusted
by the glitter of the plant's bestowing, were fully open. She held the
pointless blade firmly and turned the eyes upon the wall.

   There came that united beam of force, and she knew the familiar drain
of energy. Where the beam struck the stone the light spread, clung to the
surface as might a cloak plastered tightly there.

   Kadiya keeping her attention only on that block of light walked
forward. This was the test. There was no stone there. No. This was an open
doorway which was ready for her.

   She held in mind the picture of that doorway. Again followed that
attack of vertigo, that feeling of being wrenched apart from all that was
stable and known. She stood again in that underground room to which
they had traced V arm's follower. Facing her, spear at ready, dart at pipe
mouth, were Jagun and Smail, while behind them Salin's fingers wove
strange patterns of power in the air.

  There was no welcome for her. All Kadiya could see was a distrustful t
wariness. Then she remembered the masking of her new helm and quickly
pushed it up, to reveal her face.

  "Farseer!" Jagun's was a muted cry but one of excited welcome. "But—
His stare of astonishment was open. "You were gone. You come again. And
now you wear new armor—

   "Come and gone—how long, Jagun?" She had the memory of days
behind her, a hand's fingers of them. Had these three lingered here for all
that time?

   "As long as it would take to skin a borick—a young one perhaps," he
returned.

   "But—no. It was days!" Kadiya felt the chill of fear. What had those
others said? That where they dwelt time had no meaning.

  However, she was not the only one who might return here.

   "The walking death, he of Varm—" she demanded. "Has that one also
returned?"

  All three of the Oddlings shook their heads.

  "Only you, Farseer, and you have been away only a fraction of time—
not days."

   She looked over her shoulder at the wall through which she had come.
So in this she had won a little time as she knew time. That other one had
not yet returned.

  "The Skritek?" Kadiya asked.

   "They have not returned either," Jagun assured her. "Salin"—he nodded
toward the wisewoman—"has set a warning, and nothing has come to
disturb it."

  Once more luck had favored them. She stroked the flask so tightly
clipped to her belt. There was a long journey ahead, and to have to fight
their way to her goal would mean delay—if not defeat.

  "King's Daughter," Salin asked, "what did you find beyond?"

  "Those who once ruled," she answered. "The Noble Ones."

  "And they come also to our aid?" The Uisgu woman looked beyond
Kadiya to the wall.

   "In their fashion," Kadiya replied. "But they will not be with us in this
place. And, it would be well to be away before that other returns. He
carries with him a thing of black Power. We must go!"

    She had already reached the end of the screen which concealed the
secret entrance and, without further questions, the others crowded behind
her. Once more they followed that staircase, this time back to the depths.
There had been no trifling with the crude raft which had carried them
here. Kadiya saw the nostrils of the three Oddlings distend and she knew
that they strove to pick up any scent which might betray the Skritek. But
if those creatures knew of this way they must not have used it for a long
time.

   Again they embarked on that clumsy raft and headed out into the open.
Kadiya watched overhead for any movement which might betray the
presence of the monster Weaver whose net they had destroyed. However,
they passed the tattered strings unmolested.

   Kadiya was still tense as they came out within the shadows of the tree
root arches. This land of thorns and monsters still enclosed them.
Somehow it was difficult for her to accept that they had passed even this
far unchallenged. There were clouds overhead but no rain fell.

   By that evening they reached the improvised shelter at the sinister
ruins of the tower. They had not talked during the journey; all had been
too much on guard. The uneasiness which burdened Kadiya was clearly
shared by her companions. Still it was she who felt the greatest drive of
all—the need to call into being the help they needed.

   Before them lay a new danger—or rather an old one reinforced. That
contagion sown by the follower of Varm had spread and they had to avoid
patches of corruption with care. It was now deep twilight. Luckily those
nauseous spots gave forth a wan purulent light in warning. They were
being edged by that putrid growth away from a direct route. At last, they
came to a place where they could not pass; the thorn hedge formed once
more a barrier. Here the thorns themselves were diseased, covered with
lumps like the pustules of incurable illness. Kadiya watched some break
open and scatter minute flecks of greenish matter which soared and
caught, to eat into whatever the breeze drove them toward.

   She drew the sword. Though she well knew that what she would do
would weaken her, she had no choice. The eyes had not closed since she
had stood in the Temple of the Timeless Flower. Indeed, they appeared
brighter, oddly more aware because of those sparking motes along the
lids.

   Kadiya hardened her will. Even as it had proved a key to the door wall,
now the top orb sent forth a dagger of light which was joined by beams
from the other two. That tongue of brilliance slashed at the corrupted
vegetation before them as Kadiya swung it back and forth, her arm
moving as if she were using the weapon against an armed enemy.

   An answering burst of fire among the thorns spread as she advanced.
The other three fell into a single line behind her. She could hear faintly a
chant and then felt a touch on her shoulder. Salin had moved up beside
her and from the wisewoman came a flow of strength in answer to her own
need. That increased, once and then again. Jagun and Smail must have
linked in turn.

   The stink of death was half overborne by the odor of burning brush.
Kadiya strove to push faster. This was betraying their presence and any
roving Skritek would be drawn to investigate.

   She stumbled once; half burned roots thrusting forth from the ground
could catch the unwary. Still she used the sword, though her arm was
growing heavy. She could not keep her original quick pace. The drain was
continuous in spite of what the others gave to help.

   Kadiya staggered again, caught herself. She could see that the beam of
light she was wielding had shortened. Now it flickered once or twice. She
bit her lower lip and pushed doggedly on. Her world had narrowed to that
light, to the dark of the thorn wall immediately before her.

  "Farseer!"
  Not a vocal call, but a mind send, powerful enough to pierce her
concentration.

   "We have passed beyond the plague."

   "We are not clear of the thorn—" she said aloud, too wary of using the
least bit of inner strength in mind speech.

   "This is for us, Farseer. Let us clear the way."

   Jagun's offer might have been a spell. Her arm fell to her side, and,
though she gritted teeth and struggled, she could no longer hold the sword
upright. The glow of light touched the ground, flicked in a rhythm like the
beat of a heart, was gone. Nor could she flog her will into raising it again.

   Salin moved in beside her, pulling Kadiya's left arm across her bent
shoulders, seemingly supporting them both with her staff. With the sword
light gone Kadiya moved through a darkness close to blindness. She felt
rather than saw the other two Oddlings push past.

   What could they use to clear the road? she wondered dimly. She heard
a crackling ahead, but not that of fire. Then Salin was urging her on,
taking only three or four steps at a time. They did have a path, though it
was very narrow and thorns reached out now and then to grate across that
silk-sleek armor of the Vanished Ones, scraping but finding no opening to
score the flesh beneath.

  "On," Salin's mind voice came only dimly. "They use the passage knives,
Noble One. It will not be far now—there is water smell ahead."

   Kadiya wavered on only with the wisewoman's aid. She became dimly
aware that the brush was no longer so tightly woven. She looked up. The
eye holes of the helm limited her vision but she thought she caught a
glimpse of stars in the early night sky where the clouds had parted. She
doubted that she could keep on her feet much longer.

  Dimly Kadiya was amazed at the strength of the wisewoman who not
only was keeping her standing now but leading her forward as well.

   Then she was no longer on her feet at all, but lying, to look up at a star
through a frame of clouds. The weight of those dark clouds closed down
upon her. Her last act was to grip the sword lest she lose the one weapon
she believed hers alone to the encroaching dark.

                    Chapter Eighteen

   THERE WAS THE SOUND OF VOICES BUT Kadiya could not
understand any words. As she opened her eyes she was struck by the full
rays of the sun. Bracing herself on one elbow the girl looked about her.

   The three Oddlings were together. Before Salin was her scrying bowl;
on either side knelt the two males, all intent on what they were viewing.
Salin's fingers moved in a pattern. There came an exclamation from Jagun
and his hand dropped to the spear lying beside him.

   Kadiya need not look at the vision the wisewoman had summoned. She
felt the fear exuding from the three like the swamp mist. With effort she
pulled to her knees.

   They were on a hillock which gave root to some bushes, but none of
these sprouted thorns. The girl could smell that rottenness which clung to
the deepest swamp, but sensed none of the plague threat.

   "What comes?" Kadiya found her voice. Moving brought back some of
the feeling of drained weakness.

   She had startled the three. Jagun's head jerked as he looked to her.
"Evil, Farseer." He was on his feet swiftly to come to her. His hands on her
shoulders drew her up with a strength which seemed too great even for his
wiry body. "Look you."

   Kadiya found she could waver forward by his help to drop to her knees
in the same spot where he had been crouching a moment earlier. She
leaned forward to see the picture in the bowl.

   Once more there was so real a scene that she might be watching it
through a window. The background was plainly the thorny barrier
through which they had fought their way. Here moved a squad of Skritek,
armed with rude clubs and spears.

  It was the one they escorted who Kadiya saw most clearly. This was the
man of the flaming throne. There was no sign of the disease which had
eaten him. Now he was tall, strong, as clean of skin and as forceful of aura
as Lamaril. In his hand was the weapon rod. And, though the Skritek were
plainly escorting him, they did not come too near, rather kept several
paces before or behind.

   The follower of Varm was pushing forward with great strides, looking
ahead as if he sought a goal which he must reach in a limited time. Then,
suddenly, he stopped, almost in midstep. The rod came up, his head
turned right and then left. There was a seeking in his stance.

   Salin waved a hand across the basin. There was an answering swirl of
the liquid there and the scene was instantly erased. Yet still on the Uisgu
woman's face there remained a shadow of fear.

  "That one," mind speech flared to Kadiya, "knew he was spied upon!"
She touched the bowl. "We dare not use this again."

   "What if we use it to communicate with another?" asked Kadiya.
"Would that also betray us?" She was thinking of Haramis. Perhaps her
sister at this very moment could produce that which would arm them
better. Knowledge could be more powerful than weapons alone.

  Salin shook her head. "King's Daughter, each time I call upon this"—she
now cradled the bowl in both hands—"there is a troubling of that which
we cannot see. Such could guide that one to us."

  "You have that…" Jagun indicated the sword.

   "I have more than that, but I must be able to summon it," replied
Kadiya. "The Vanished Ones will join us—in their own fashion, and
through our aid in return. Jagun, we must reach the road of the Sindona.
Can you find that trail?"

   Find it he did after a period of scouting. They saw the sun vanish. They
spent the night on guard, another day. As her strength returned, Kadiya
pushed the pace as well as she could, the flask rubbing against her side
with every step, urging her on.

   Those humps of brick hard clay stood even as she had seen them before,
marking the forgotten road which led to Yatlan. At the head of that line
stood Lamaril, the only one uncovered. Not quite as she had seen him in
the place behind the wall, but as he might once have been in this world.
   It was late afternoon when they reached that place. And certainly this
was exposed territory. Kadiya hoped that that other party they had spied
on would not be heading in this direction. Varm's follower had his own
priority: time lashed at him even as it did at her.

  "We must free these, all of them"—she pointed to the lumps of yellow,
hardened earth—"as soon as we can."

  They asked no questions. They had not since she had rejoined them.
She believed at times Jagun still glanced at her sidewise in a faint awe.
Now they set to work, chipping at the mud with spear and knife point.
Kadiya worked as swiftly as she could with her dagger. The clay was hard
baked and the work tedious, though now and then a lucky stroke of blade
would set a large lump flying.

   Twilight closed in, yet Kadiya and the others did not halt. Perhaps they,
too, were now gripped with that need for hurry. Exposed as they were they
could not start a fire to give them light, but Smail went away and came
back shortly with a twist of reeds in which were some of those same light
grubs Jagun had called upon for a lantern in Yatlan.

  Limited as that light was, it still gave them a view of where to strike.

   The yellow muck covering the old road, which the hidden statues
marked, came alive with the dark. Creatures crawled there, though they
could be sighted only by the movements of the surface. Salin stopped her
pecking away at the mound she had chosen and rifled the journey pack for
a small container. This in hand she circled the scene of their labors,
shaking out a reddish dust.

   In spite of her new helm giving protection against those minute flies
which were a torment to the eyes, and that grease which all swamp farers
used against the insects, Kadiya felt the sting of bites. Doggedly she
continued her task.

    Half free now was the statue of a woman whose face Kadiya
remembered from the assembly in the flower temple. Kadiya inserted her
bruised fingers in a crack and gave a hard pull. A whole section of the mud
fell away; the woman stood free.

  Out over the muck there was a sudden glow of green light. Kadiya
wheeled, startled. The light hung suspended for several breaths and then
moved toward them. If it were carried by any creature it did not shine
downward to show them what held it torch-like.

  Nor was it now alone. Three other such burst into view. Smail stood
away from his work. He had nearly freed another of the Sindona—a man.

  "Ossfire!" Salin threw herself once more at the pack. This time she
produced a jar into which Smail inserted a dart. His pipe was at his lips.

   It was too dark to follow the dart in flight if it could be detected in its
swift passage. There came a loud pop. The nearest of the fireballs
advancing toward them was no longer a globe. Rather, segments of it
flared out like sparks, plummeting down into the muck. Methodically
Smail picked off the others.

   Kadiya coughed. Her nose felt as if some of that fire had invaded it, and
there followed a stench heavy enough to make her gag.

   She leaned one hand against the second pillar she had set to work upon.
Kadiya retched, bringing up the remains of the rations she had shared an
hour earlier. Salin was beside the girl as she wiped the back of her hand
across her mouth.

   "Eat!" the wisewoman held between finger and thumb what looked like
a wad of mangled leaves.

   Doubtfully Kadiya obeyed. The stuff was sour. She wanted to spit it out,
yet she had faith in Salin's knowledge of swampwise protection. When she
forced herself to swallow the juice her teeth had drawn out of that
mouthful, she discovered that she was no longer nauseous.

   There was a moon tonight. As it rose its beams added to the grub light
giving them a better chance to keep at their labors—though it was no easy
job.

   When the mounds had at last been cleared of the mud coating, Kadiya
judged the time to be close to morning. Her shoulders ached and her
fingers, bearing small cuts from the sharp edges of scraps she had pulled
away, were becoming stiff and painful. But she was ridden by the thought
that if she rested now she would lose the battle before it began—she dared
not yield to any longing for sleep.
  Salin once more came to the rescue with dressings for their minor
wounds.

   Kadiya wiped pan of hers away, afraid the slick stuff might impede the
action she must now take.

   The Oddlings withdrew as the girl slipped the flask free from her belt.
With her dagger tip already dull from the use she had put it to this night,
she pried up the cover.

   The gray of very early morning surely was enough to give her the sight
of the statues which she needed. Setting her teeth together with the effort
she was making to hold the flask steady, Kadiya again wiped the fingers of
her other hand across her breeches. Then she advanced to the statue of
Lamaril. Between thumb and forefinger she pinched some pollen. Then
reaching upward, the girl smeared it first on the forehead between those
gem eyes. So much—now!

  A second pinch of the pollen, this time for the lips.

   She drew back a little. They had told her what to do, but it was hard to
believe, truly difficult to understand.

   The light of predawn was so dim. Had there been a change in the
statue?

   Then… That head, which had been for so many hundreds turned in one
direction, moved. The eyes looked down and around at her. That
monstrous head which Lamaril had held in his stone hand as a warning
was tossed aside, to go sailing out over the mud.

  "It is done, well done—

  Kadiya looked to the man whose eyes met hers.

   "Then I shall do it again!" she answered shakily, and stepped with
renewed energy to the next of those they had freed from their mud
prisons.

   They lived and breathed, stood looking about them. Kadiya restoppered
the flask.
  "This—this—" It was one of the women who had been freed, and who
now stood looking about her bewildered. "What is this?"

   The sun was up far enough to give full view of that mud patched stretch
which concealed the ancient road. Though in some places the swamp had
a beauty all its own, this was a desolation.

  "This is what has come," Lamaril said.

  "Evil." One of the others of the Sindona moved a little forward to the
edge of that yellow expanse.

   It was Kadiya who answered. "Not evil," she replied. "This is of the
swamp and not of that which the Dark has brought." If these who had
returned saw evil in such as this, she wondered what they would say when
and if they faced some smear of the plague infested land.

   "The swamp," Lamaril repeated. "And time. Once more we must deal
with time. That way then, and the sooner the better." His hand swung
forward into the same gesture the statue had held, pointing out the path
of the old road.

  "The trail is more dangerous than it seems," Kadiya warned. "Jagun—

  With a start the Oddling came to her. He and the two Uisgu had been
watching with awe those Kadiya had aroused into life.

   Now he moved out, spear ready to sound for the steadiness of the way
under the mud scum. They did not wear the water walking leaves but
Kadiya trusted to Jagun's memory of how they had spanned this way
before. She had her own memories of that way and they were dour ones.
Death had trod the trail before her and left sickly evidence of its passing.

   They crossed the open and came to that place of solid land where the
brush and twisted canes and vines gave way to true trees. She was so
tired—the night's labor behind her had been an added burden to the
draining of the sword's power in the Thorny Hell.

   When they were a little within the marching of the trees Lamaril
touched her shoulder.

  "There must be rest for you and those little ones who worked so
valiantly." He nodded toward the Oddlings. "Though there have been ill
changes, this way we know. We shall march and you follow. But first we
encamp for a space."

   At least there was a breeze here which did not carry with it too much of
the swamp odor. She had nearly reached the end of her energy, Kadiya
discovered, when she at last allowed herself to slip to the ground.

   There was life here—birds twittered in the trees and there was a
scurrying of a small furred thing up one curved trunk. Smail was busy
pulling out a packet covered by leaves pinned together with small twigs.
Kadiya began to struggle with the buckles of her own bag, only to have it
pulled gently out of her grasp.

   Lamaril knelt there. Others of his command struck out among the
trees, but he waited while she drew out a packet of the dried and pressed
roots which had so little taste but were enough to keep one going on the
trail.

   Kadiya pushed aside her pack. On the crushed mat of fern where it had
lain she set down her share of what supplies they carried. Jagun added a
bundle of dried strips of fish which smelled none too pleasant. Smail had
way cakes made of reed root meal which were now crumbling into grayish
pinches of dust-like crumbs. A small offering for even their own party,
nothing to spread among all those now their traveling companions.

    However, there was already movement from out of the trees. They were
returning with food—fruit, small and sourish when compared to the
bounty of the garden, but still of the same kind; some roots, dark earth
still clinging to them; and then two of the party bearing silver scaled fish
strung on reeds.

   It was a strange meal—certainly no banquet—but they shared equally.
This more than what she had already witnessed made Kadiya believe that
she had wrought sorcery of a high order, though not by her
understanding. Statues living, eating—and between bites looking about
them wide eyed, searching—

  "Nuers!" At Lamaril's call one of the others of the Sindona swallowed
hurriedly and came to where his commander sat beside Kadiya.

  "We move. Fahiel will guard until these are rested—
  Kadiya would have disputed that, but she knew that he was right. She
and the Oddlings were not fit for the trail after their night's labors. Yet she
was also needed in the city if their force was to be summoned in strength.

   However, more might lie within those treasure rooms of Yatlan where
the Hassitti had packed away all they could find of what the Vanished
Ones had abandoned. Lamaril and the rest would certainly need time to
go through those crowded rooms. Thus she did not protest when the
Sindona moved off, save for the one detailed to stay with them.

   With him as sentinel, the girl felt for the first time that the full weight
of responsibility had been raised from her. She pulled at the fern grass,
crushing it. Discarding the mask-helm she curled up to sleep.

   The sun was down far enough to have vanished from the sky, leaving
only ragged banners behind to mark its going when Kadiya awoke. Jagun
was already squatting by his pack, scraping the point of his spear with a
honing stone. Smail sat up at the same time as she did, yawning widely,
his pointed teeth showing. Salin still lay curled, but as Kadiya moved the
wisewoman's eyes opened.

   Their guard had been busy in his own fashion. A pile of vine lengths lay
beside him and he had shredded a number, then braided pieces into a
slender brown-green rope which he tested every few inches as he wove.
When the Oddlings moved, he gathered the loops into one hand, revealing
that the far end of it was looped into a noose.

   Kadiya's hand went to her head. Her scalp was no longer sore where the
vine trap had caught her. Yet what Fahiel fashioned suddenly reminded
her of that attack.

  Even though night was coming she had no desire to continue in camp
here. The flask and her duty only half done pressured her on.

   They passed that place of death where once she had granted release to a
tormented Uisgu captive. There was no reason to fear any of Voltrik's
scum now, though the Skriteks might be on the move.

    They came at last to that tunnel which had first given her entrance into
Yatlan. Kadiya had warned the Oddlings of what lay beyond and she knew
that they swam well by nature. Certainly the Sindona, who had said very
little during their journey, must also know of this way.
   It was very near dawn. They had made good time she was sure, even
Salin keeping the pace Kadiya had set without faltering. The footing had
been secure where the old road was not completely covered.

   Kadiya plunged again into the dark where she had once sought hiding.
The water rose—she was swimming, with the sword fastened in her belt
something of a weight. She had made very sure of the snug sealing of the
flask.

  Fahiel collected all their packs, fastened them together with his rope
and took this bundle with him. He seemed so well aware of what he was
doing that neither Kadiya nor the Oddlings protested.

   Once more she emerged from the pool, though in the twilight the water
did not shimmer blue as it had the first time she had come this way.
Before her were the steps with their Guardian statues. Among those there
was movement. For a second Kadiya tred water, holding off from exiting
the pool.

   Then the bobbing lamps showed her what—who—awaited them there.
Hassitti crowded the steps and among them stood a much taller figure.
The lamplight glinted from jewel bright mail but he wore no face
concealing helm. As the girl found footing a little below him, Lamaril
reached down to catch the hand she had unconsciously raised in greeting
and drew her forth from the pool as easily as if she had been but a kotta
blossom floating there.

                    Chapter Nineteen

    YATLAN WAS VERY OLD, THE SILENCE LAID by time had curtained
it for so long. Now lamps blazed in windows of those buildings fronting on
the pool, the way to the garden. There were scuttling noises of passage
here and there. The Hassitti, near hysterical with joy, were searching out
all which they could offer for the comfort of these who had at long last
returned.

   Around Kadiya the glory of the night garden closed and eased her,
mind and body. One hand still rested on the flask which was now empty.
She had served the wishes of those behind the far wall—there were no
longer any statues silent on the stairs without. Men and women of another
blood busied themselves in the buildings which had once sheltered them.
She was not sure what they searched for—armor such as Lamaril wore,
yes, and perhaps weapons far more potent even than the sword which was
hers.

   In what could be a small breathing time of peace she drew to her all the
quiet healing of the garden, watching with sleep-heavy eyes those flying
lights weave their patterns from flower to leaf to flower.

   The swamp had always fascinated her for all its murk and dangers.
That place beyond the wall had been all beauty without any perils.
This—Kadiya sighed. Even now when she had tried to let down all her
defenses, put aside all her impatience, still she felt alien. Where did she by
rights belong? She had arrogantly claimed the swamp when she had left
the Citadel. No, the court was not for her. Anigel would reign correctly and
proudly from a throne which was meant for a Queen. Haramis, in her
northern mountains, would live for her learning, eager to grasp always
more and more of that which would strengthen her inner Powers. When
this peril was passed—if Kadiya did survive its passing—what then?
Resolutely she pushed away that question.

   Kadiya had tried a short time ago to once more communicate with
Haramis, via Salin's scrying bowl, but there had been no response. Was
her sister now aroused to danger also and on the move from her eyrie to
route out traces of the Dark?

   She lifted her head a little. Her hair was tightly braided except for the
crown where the locks were still short from her shearing. Her skin was
scratched, her body thin—though at least she had had the chance to bathe
with what small luxuries the Hassitti could provide. It had been most
necessary to refuse the jewels, the remains of fine robes, they pressed on
her to wear. Once more she went in the mail which had been given her in
the Place of the Flower.

  A slight sound behind alerted her—one of the Hassitti come to ask
again, as they had for hours, what she wished?

  "A place for dreaming—

   Though it came by mind touch, that speech was not from any Hassitti.
Kadiya looked back and would have arisen but Lamaril would not have it
so. He waved her back to drop down beside her, his mail scraping the
stone.

  "Does it," she asked a question which had been with her most of this
day, "give you anger, sadness, to see Yatlan as it now is?"

   When he did not answer she was abashed. Perhaps in her usual
impetuous way she had invaded where she should never have stepped. In
this dusk light she could not clearly see his face. This might well have been
a place which he remembered with joy and pleasure.

  "You see deep," his message came at last. "These walls contain that
which is like a dream wherein one returns to childhood, seeking all that
which was warmth and goodness then. It is a shadow of something which
was— But it is not well to allow shadows to curtain what now exists. I
knew the Yatlan that was. This is a different Yatlan and one I must learn
again… if we are given the time."

  "The mountains…" She dropped hand to sword hilt.

   "The mountains await us," he agreed. "Salin has spoken with others of
her kind. The dreamer of the Hassitti has had some things to tell us. Yes,
the Dark is returning to loose the old evil. And evil it was."

   "What must we do then?" She could understand a battle with men,
with Skritek, such as they had faced during the invasion. Was this a time
when she must summon Anigel and Haramis, and somehow have them
reweld the talisman into one mighty weapon?

   "They sleep. Five wait for the one who returns from Varm to awaken
them fully. They are the lords of the Dark whom we could not slay at the
ending. Thus we bound them—sealed them—with such forces as we
believed could never be broken."

   "Until Orogastus troubled and meddled. But if you could not put an end
to them once, how can we hope to do so now?" Kadiya asked.

   "In slumber they are powerless. We must stop that messenger before he
awakens them. But, King's Daughter of another day, your part is already
played—

   A small heat flared up within Kadiya. Was she now to be dismissed, like
a child who had run some small errand but must not trouble her elders
when they were about their more important business?

   "This is indeed another day." She tried to tamp down her quickness of
temper, to impress upon him without any show of what she felt. "Some
tens of days ago I gave Oath to serve the mires—both peoples and land.
Those of my race do not usually know the swamp ways. But from a child
this waterlogged land has drawn me. When I called the Nyssomu, the
Uisgu also came battle ready—something they had never done for any of
my blood, even Krain my father.

   "What touches this land, what threatens this land is a matter for me,
since this is my time. In this very garden was a weapon fitted to my
hand." She had drawn the sword, held it out. The eyes were fully open,
though they shot forth no vengeful fire. Rather it was as if they were truly
using sight, studying her, even Lamaril. "As long as this is mine. Lord
Guardian, then what happens in any mire battle is of my concern."

   Again he was silent. Then he slowly nodded his head. "With your will so
set, Kadiya, we cannot stand against you. But you do not know what lies
ahead. There can be such a Power unleashed that would scorch your
talisman into nothingness. We cannot be sure that even we can stand
against what will happen if the sleepers are summoned into wakefulness
and armed by Varm.

   "For long and long we have stepped out of time and been at peace.
Though we have not forgotten old skills, still we have not put them to use.
Weapons rust if they are not withdrawn from sheaths for the seasons. I
would not have you believe that we are all powerful. In this time we can
die as easily as one of your kind, or the little ones you term Oddlings." He
suddenly caught at her empty hand and drew it to his forearm. Beneath
her fingers his flesh felt as her own—there was nothing of the smoothness
of the stone about it.

   An insect fluttered near, settled on one of his fingers. He uttered an
exclamation and flicked it away.

   "You see even the flying things can sting us as they do you. We are
vulnerable."

   "But you are the Vanished Ones. This city was deserted and vine grown
before my people came and we have been here more than six hundreds of
full seasons. Yet you remember these streets and halls, you have walked
them before."

   "Time rules here. It does not beyond the Gate. Though my people are
long lived, they do come at last to an ending. Did not Binah die? She chose
to remain in the hold of time, and time lay heavy and heavier upon her.
Yes, when you brought our inner selves through the barrier and gave us
bodies once again, then we became answerable to time, just as we are
answerable to death—and to another kind of life."

   "So now we go to the mountains," Kadiya said. That the Vanished Ones
were immortal was a legend of the bards. Yet Lamaril said that they were
answerable to death and time, and this they had chosen when they came
for battle.

  "At least we know the road even though we may not be sure what
awaits us at the end of it. Kadiya, tell me of your people—you say you
chose the mires for your own after the fall of this sorcerer Orogastus.
When you did so, what life did you leave?"

   It was true, she had chosen another life just as Lamaril and the others
had chosen to return. She thought of the Citadel. Parts of life there she
could remember as if they were bright flowers to catch the eye; others she
shrank from recalling—those last hours of horror when Voltrik breached
the walls and all which had been her safe and happy life had come to an
end.

   Now she drew upon those first memories: the life in the huge
stronghold which must have also been built by those of Lamaril's blood, of
the midseason festival of the Three Moon Feast, the arrival of flotillas of
traders' boats bound upriver to Trevista, of hunting trips with Jagun, of
the boring court ceremonies she had yawned her way through because she
must.

   Then she deliberately brought forth the horrors: the foul death dealt
her father and his guards, her mother's body hacked with swords and war
axes, of the escape through those inner ways which had led down and
down into the very heart of the earth.

   "Of the rest I have spoken before," she said at last. She found she was
shivering, though the breeze in the garden was not chill. Did one ever
wash blood out of memory?
   Her hand was caught again, held not tightly but firmly with a warmth
spreading through that contact which chased away the chill. Kadiya
grasped at a thought, held it tightly as one might clasp a shield. With her
two sisters she had a bond, yes, but a tenuous one—they were too unlike to
do more than answer the call of shared blood.

   With Jagun her tie had been that of battle comrade, but they were
species alien to one another. That she could command his aid at all times,
she knew, but she was suddenly aware now there was a void within her
which had never opened even far enough for her to know it existed.

  This one firm hand clasp was like the sword: a key, a key to feelings she
had never owned to before.

   No, she did not want to turn that key! The here and now was hers. She
wanted no dreaming nor foreseeing. Kadiya withdrew from that hold
almost roughly. She was quick with another question.

  "The way to this mountain prison, it is far?"

   "We cross the Golden Mire." he returned. "There are foothills beyond, a
fringe of them. The way was blocked, hidden as best we could devise in the
old days. It is no easy road."

  Kadiya stood up abruptly. "Is any way within the mires an easy one?
The rivers and streams can serve us but they do not run straight. Do we
head for Mt. Brom or Gidris? Haramis is there. Her power—

  "No, we round the end of the Thorny Hell, strike then south through the
country which is held by the Uisgu, and so to near that peak of Rotolo."

   "What of the Vispi? Their country lies there. Will they not also be alert
to this danger?"

   Lamaril shook his head. "We think that the old barrier of silence holds.
It would be to the advantage of Varm's servant who goes to awaken his
comrades to keep it so as a protection against his return. Salin has been
seeking and the small dreamer of the Hassitti has also done what might be
done to try and discover some troubling of the mountain lands. But all he
can perceive are the fear and horror of the death spreading in the mires.

  "Already the Uisgu are traveling south, seeking to flee beyond its greedy
spread where it turns all the land into a thing of rottenness."

   "But you are sure of where this place of the sleepers lies?" She did not
really know why she asked that question. Certainly he must be sure.

   To her surprise he did not reply at once. "The land is changed," he
returned slowly. "We have two among us who have the farsight. What they
see is a wasteland of plague and that must be pierced."

  Kadiya thought of her sword. Would what she could summon be
enough to clean a path for them?

   "Fire"—he might be reading her thoughts though she had not felt the
mind touch—"will cleanse in part. That we can manage—if he who seeks
the same place does not summon some other weapon."

   The Vanished Ones were all powerful; legends ingrained in her from
childhood declared that was so. Yet his words were not calm reassurance;
they left her with a prickling of doubt. Perhaps there was never any core of
true safety one could seek—not this side of that door. However, this was
her land and she was set to live in it.

   Their party made an early start in the morning. To Kadiya's vast
surprise, there were six of the Hassitti waiting when they assembled. Their
bedraggled remains of rich robes had been discarded, though some still
wore bejeweled chains. Each had a pack. The two to the fore Kadiya
recognized—Tostlet, the healer, and Quave, the dreamer.

   They had arms of a sort—long knives, which, because of their
diminutive size, would serve as swords, and rods with thongs waving from
their tips, not unlike whips. Their use the girl could not guess.

   That they had added themselves to the company, had been allowed to
do so by the Sindona, was a primary puzzlement to her. Still Lamaril and
the others appeared to take their presence as a matter of course.

   They left the city through the gates which held illusion and cut out
westward away from the Thorny Hell. Here there was a goodly amount of
stable land and the bogs were not to be feared. Though Kadiya could
follow mind send if it were directly beamed in her direction she could not
follow that which was in use now—save to be aware that information
passed continually among the Sindona and perhaps the Hassitti.
   She kept pace not with the Guardians, but stubbornly kept to her own
comrades—Jagun, Smail, and Salin, the latter holding to her walking staff
though the speed Lamaril had set was not taxing as yet.

   Jagun and Smail cut away from the main body first. Kadiya knew that
the need for scouts sent the Oddlings ahead, even though none of the
Sindona seemed aware of the necessity.

   They were well away from Yatlan when an Oddling mind warning
struck Kadiya and she hurried ahead to Lamaril.

  "Skritek! A full raiding party, Jagun has crossed their tracks!"

   One of those who followed the Commander had also turned to face the
west. It was Lalan, the woman Kadiya knew, though her face was masked
by the helm. Her pose was that of one picking up a wind-borne scent.

   "A rear guard." Her mind send was cast this time such that Kadiya
could pick it up. "Varm's creature is moving fast, and the scaled jaws are
following to his command."

   "There are Uisgu." Kadiya had a fresh send from Jagun. "They flee the
rot. Smail goes to warn them."

   Lamaril only nodded abruptly but he lengthened stride. Now Kadiya,
though she disliked it, fell back to help Salin—for, as willing as the
wise-woman was, she could not hold to that pace.

  As the two dropped back, the Hassitti closed in about them. Kadiya was
sharply elbowed aside and looked down in surprise to see that Tostlet had
come up beside the Uisgu woman to offer support.

  "We shall do well. Noble One," the Hassitti's assurance came swiftly.
"Go you where the Power will be needed."

   Several of the Hassitti had put out a burst of speed, scuttling along at a
rate which brought them along with Kadiya as she rejoined the head of
their small force.

   "Thus be it!" Lamaril drew from a sling at his side, where a sword
might have ridden, a narrow rod. The tip of it appeared to quiver. Kadiya
staggered. There was a driving pain behind her eyes. A hand reached forth
from the Sindona she marched beside and lowered her helm, for bothered
by the limited sight through the eye holes of the face mask, she had
pushed it up on her head.

   Instantly the pain was gone. She had drawn her sword and now she felt
the growing heat of it in her hand. The eyes were open, and on impulse she
held the blade a little higher as if those orbs could really see and thereby
understand what was happening and what might be asked of them.

   The Sindona broke the tight formation they had held since leaving
Yatlan and moved out into a curving line which still advanced steadily,
resembling the move of hunters driving game into the nets as Kadiya had
seen Nyssomu do on a large island near Trevista.

   All of them had rod in hand now, and, though Kadiya could no longer
hear that stupefying sound, she was sure any not helm-protected were
suffering. Yet it did not appear in any way to affect the Hassitti who still
scrambled on, sometimes even threading ahead through the Sindona line.

   They had almost reached a growth of brush, the first real obstruction
they had come across after leaving Yatlan, when the branches began to
writhe furiously. Out into the open staggered a Skritek. Greenish foam
dripped from the corners of its open jaws. Its eyes gleamed red even as
Kadiya had seen when the blood lust was raging in them.

   However, if this one had ever been armed he had dropped his weapons.
Instead both hands were pressed to the sides of his long jawed head which
shook from side to side. His plunge out of the brush carried him to his
knees and he seemed unable to rise again in spite of wild struggles.

   Those eyes were pits of rage born in pain and Kadiya could feel the heat
of the hatred he held for them. One of the Hassitti scuttled up toward the
furious creature and Kadiya started forward, sure that a single snap of jaw
would end that small life. Then Lalan's arm dropped like a barrier before
her.

   The Hassitti had reached its goal. The whip-like weapon it carried fell
in a vicious snap across the scaled features of the Skritek. The Drowner
reared nearly to his feet, swinging out a clawed paw at his attacker. But
the Hassitti was well away, watching as its enemy fell forward again,
facedown, body twitching.
   The Hassitti's feet shuffled back and forth for an instant in what might
have been a small dance of triumph. What blow that whip stroke had
delivered Kadiya could not guess, but it was undoubtedly effective. None
of the Sindona nor the Hassitti spared another glance at the Skritek as
they moved on, though plainly the creature was not yet dead; Kadiya could
see the body moving with labored breathing.

   They were at the edge of the barrier of thick brush and there they
halted for a moment. Lamaril snapped off a twig of the growth, rolled leaf
and stem between his fingers, and then held up the mashed bit to the edge
of his helm mask. He was plainly smelling that which he had harvested.

    Dropping the mauled stem, he ran his ringer slowly up the length of the
rod weapon, a gesture which was copied by his followers. With their rods
now outheld, they marched confidently on as if no barrier existed. Nor did
it. Leaf, stem, heavy branch were… gone. The air about was filled with a
green mist as heavy as a thick smoke. Kadiya waved her hand back and
forth as she tramped immediately after Lamaril and felt dampness on her
skin, saw it turn green as if from a stiff coating of Uisgu body paint.

   The disappearance of the brush revealed five more Skritek, now rolling
to the ground, their weapons laying useless. Once more the Hassitti,
joined by two of its kind, went into action reducing the creatures to
helplessness.

   Only one did they have to pursue, for he was doggedly crawling, his
head wagging from side to side while clacking his fangs together as if he
were tearing apart some prey. Around his scaled throat was a chain of
black metal from which hung small gray bones—finger bones. This Kadiya
recognized as a hunter of skill, one who bore the right to leadership. He
slewed around on the ground to face them.

   His head went back and up, like that of a creature howling its anguish
to the skies. Kadiya retreated a step. Just as that sound the Sindona had
used as a weapon so did this screech strike—it was raw emotion, a hate so
potent that it might have been poison spewed into her face.

   Three of the Hassitti closed in upon him but they were showing more
wariness. The Skritek leaned heavily on one arm, swept out with the other.
His extended claws nearly scraped the plated breast of the nearest
Hassitti. The other two sprang as Kadiya could not have thought possible,
given their short legs and heavy bodies. Their whip weapons fell almost at
the same moment across the head of their prey.

   There came a last burst of overpowering rage—then nothing at all.
though the still jerking body lay in their path and they had to detour
around it.

                     Chapter Twenty

   THEY CAMPED THAT NIGHT ON SOLID LAND and Kadiya watched
Lalan, her wand weapon pointing to the earth as she made a circuit of
their dumped packs. A golden spark followed the drawing and Kadiya
realized that they now had protection, an invisible sentry on guard.

   Already the mountains showed a fanged fringe against the sky, and
with them so close Kadiya made one more attempt to reach her sister.
Salin and she sat on either side of the scrying bowl watching the dark
mirror steadied there.

   The girl linked hands with the Uisgu wisewoman willing the basin to
show what she longed to see. At a sudden movement Kadiya leaned further
forward.

   Within the bowl, a shadow grew out of mists as white as the snow
curtaining the high peaks.

  The cloaked figure became clearer.

  "Haramis!" Kadiya projected a mind call with all her strength plus that
added energy Salin fed her.

   Her sister turned to face her squarely. Haramis had her staff in hand,
that potent source of Power which was aligned to the sword across
Kadiya's knee. However, there was no welcome on Haramis's face, no
answer. Instead she showed a questioning which became uneasiness.
Haramis's hooded head turned from right to left, her eyes seeming to peer
in search.

   "Haramis!" If mind send could shout perhaps Kadiya's call reached that
point. This time her sister's lips moved as if she spoke.

  "Haramis!" For the third time Kadiya put all the strength she could
summon into that call.

  A mere whisper came, so faint she could hardly distinguish a few
words.

  "Sister… evil… barrier… have not yet knowledge—

   The rod in Haramis's hand lifted from the snow bank on which she
stood. As if she held some pen suitable for only a giant's hand, the
sorceress drew symbols in the air. They were in the form of whirling
snowflakes but Kadiya could see them, could even feel their effect. They
were warding Powers, Haramis's own—both warding and warning.

  The airborne patterns blurred. Then all was gone.

   "She is right." Kadiya started from her half trance, roused by that voice
at her side. Lamaril knelt, gazing into the now unrewarding bowl.

   "There is a barrier," he continued slowly. "That which we go up against
was very strong in its day. We defeated it, yes, but we could not wipe it
from the earth. For it is of the earth—even as is that we can command."

  Kadiya shivered—those whirling flakes from afar might have cloaked
her for a moment. Haramis, who had taken on Binah's age-old powers,
had been thwarted—and Kadiya's belief in the might of the Sindona was
shaken by their leader's admission.

  "If we can keep the seeker from the sleepers—then we are victors in the
here and now. He is armed, certainly well armed, with the best Varm
could give him. He must not awaken them!"

   Now he addressed Salin. "Wisewoman, how far can you range this
night? Can his trail be picked by your scrying?"

  The Uisgu did not answer for what seemed to Kadiya a very long
moment. Instead her long thin fingers wove air patterns back and forth.

   "Noble One," she replied at last, "once we tried—when that one was
going for the aid he needed—and he felt us! There have been times—of
these I have had warning through all my use of this talent—that death
itself can strike the viewer when those spied upon are strong and
knowing."
   "True—yet that one is alone at present, and we are more than he would
want to face. That which he carries to renew the sleepers he will not waste.
He dare not—his master will have made sure of that. But we must discover
his path. The closer he draws to that which he seeks the narrower our
margin of victory becomes."

    Salin's hands once more fell to the sides of the bowl. Her large eyes were
still on Lamaril as he turned to Kadiya.

   "King's Daughter, old links are stronger than new in this. You have
worked with Salin before; you have seen this one we search for. Will you
focus for us?"

   Kadiya remembered the fear of her dream, of the Power she had felt
released into the one they would spy upon. There was warmth on her
breast: the amulet was alive. She glanced down at the sword. Now it
seemed that those eyes were all seeing, and what they fastened upon was
her.

  "Yes," she said—one small word to bring within her a cold wavering. Let
him sense that, she would still hold by her word.

   He moved until his hands fell on her shoulders, and behind him she
sensed others moving—the Sindona were linking touch, one to another.

  Kadiya's tongue tip swept over lips suddenly dry as she said to Salin:

  "Now!"

   The Uisgu woman began a hoarse chant, her head bowed as if some
great weight pressed her. Kadiya felt the pull, far greater than it had ever
been before. There was another movement. Someone had come to stand
behind Salin, but Kadiya dared not let her concentration be broken. In her
mind she strove to set the picture of the man on the throne of fire.

   The liquid in the bowl bubbled this time instead of swirling as it had
always done before. The vessel could have rested on open fire. Fire—there
was heat in that basin, spreading to her hands and Salin's as they once
more clasped.

  That which bubbled thickened. It was not like a mirror of dark glass
now, but more a scoop of something viscid and vile. The surface smoothed
and there was a picture. It wavered for a moment and then sharp enough
for her to see indeed that one who served Varm.

   He stood on a hillock and before him blazed a fire of sullen flames, each
of which were edged with black. Around that fire massed Skritek. Even as
Kadiya watched they raised a bound captive who struggled frantically,
piteously, to fling it into the heart of the fire.

    She was sickened; bile rose in her throat. Now the swamp monsters
were dragging forward a second captive—an Uisgu girl hardly out of
childhood. They played with her as they did so, leaving her unbound,
flinging her from one to another. Now they held her directly before the
man of Varm. His face—Kadiya fought to shut her eyes against that face,
but this was inner sight as well as outer and she could not.

   Almost delicately he lowered the rod tip of the weapon he held and
from it shot a thread of flames. Back and forth across that trembling body,
arching it in agony, he drew that trickle of dark Power as he might use the
lash of a whip.

   The Skritek let the charred body fall forward, this time into the full of
the flames. Somehow the picture in the bowl grew larger, the leader ever
more its center. There was a moment when his face appeared to fill the
whole of the mirror they had created.

  His eyes narrowed, he was aware't

   Then they were away from him. They looked upon the Skriteks, upon
the outer fringes of that mob sweeping about. Kadiya, even as she was
pressured to do this, realized what the Sindona needed: some landmark,
some hint of where lay this place of destruction and pain.

   She was given very little time. The picture twisted, began to darken
around the edges as if eaten by fire. Sudden, searing heat on her own
hands was too much to bear.

   Lamaril's hold on her tightened, dragging her away so she broke
contact with Salin and the scrying bowl. She was able to raise her eyes
from the liquid turbulence which was now beginning to subside. But every
small movement brought an answering ache from her body.

  The leader did not release his grip on her. Rather she was drawn closer
to his body. Into her flooded new strength from that contact. But nothing
could wipe from her mind what she had seen.

   "That place I know." Smail of the few words spoke. Kadiya had not even
been aware that he and Jagun had returned from their scouting. "They are
at the Fangs of Rapan. It is near the Nothar."

   Lamaril gently released her. "Rest, Kadiya." His words came softly.
"This night you have wrought as a battle hero. You also," he spoke to
Salin.

  Lalan had knelt beside the wisewoman, her hands on either side of the
Uisgu's bent head. Kadiya guessed that she was doing for Salin what
Lamaril had done for her—giving renewal.

   Now the leader of the Guardians was already smoothing a space of
earth and on either side of that had set two of the glow-grub lights. With
dagger tip he drew lines on the ground.

  "It has been long; there are many changes," he commented as he
worked. "Young warrior, can you show us where stand these Fangs of
yours?"

   "The Nothar runs so, down from the heights where Mt. Gidris holds
caves of ice, or so they say." Small knelt beside the drawing and was now
pointing with one long finger.

  "Yes, there are caves to the north of the Nothar; that is where we seek.
But the Fangs?"

    "Stand so!" Smail stabbed a point to the west of the river. "Noble One,
the plague has eaten far thereabouts. Those of the clans have fled
southward. It is death to hunt that trail. We have spoken to scouts, who
say safety can only be sought so." Now he trailed a finger farther east.
"That which was Noth, the hold of the Archimage. is ruins now, yet there
is still some virtue about it as the plague has stopped and spreads no
farther toward it."

  "And the one we hunt is there." Lamaril considered the markings.
"Does the plague-sown land hinder him?"

  He might have been asking the question of himself. For he did not wait
for an answer but instead asked:

  "The mire, is it solid ground for our road?"

   "Not much. Noble One, but we have spoken to the scouts. There will be
those who join us at sunrise who know hunters' paths. Also it is the
custom for clans to keep their river and pond crafts concealed near any
needed crossing and those who come will know much of that."

   Kadiya wondered they could see by so dim a light, but they spoke
positively of distances and possible ways which might well delay them too
long. He who they sought had the Skritek as well, and those skulkers in
swampland were a formidable enemy.

   "We do what must be done." Nuers joined the group about the crude
map. Next to him was one of the Hassitti. The little creature had squatted
close, even as if it would sniff out the lines with its long nose.

    Then it straightened to its full height and pointed, not to the map but
westward voicing its eerie chatter in some state of excitement. Lamaril
listened to that rapid click-clack of speech and then said:

   "This is Quave of the dreamer line. He asks that we let him farsee for us
tonight. Wisewoman," he added to Salin, "there seems to be a need for
certain herbs. This one, the healer Tostlet"—the other Hassitti had
appeared from the shadows—"has not a full supply. Will you share with
her?"

   At Salin's quick nod, the Hassitti joined the Uisgu woman and together
they burrowed into the pack. Tostlet held at last ai hand cupped about a
bundle of twisted leaves while Salin watched with attention.

   However, Kadiya wanted no more of farseeimg. Inside, the nausea
which had been born of what she had witnessed grew stronger. She could
not raise her share of a ration trail cake to her mouth, though she made a
pretense of doing so. When she curled on her sleep mat, she held the
sword unsheathed and tight to her breast, its eyes pointed outward as if to
stand guard.

   Mercifully she was not visited by any drearms that night. And with the
precautions the Sindona had taken to fortify and guard their camp, she
felt no responsibility. Sleep came swiftly and was n<ot troubled.
   There was a chittering, and Kadiya felt a touch on her hunched
shoulder. She opened her eyes upon the gray, mist-veiled dawn of the day.
Tostlet was beside her and even as Kadiya looked up the Hasisitti's hand
stroked the girl's face.

   Coolness spread in the path of those claws. The Hassitti was holding in
her other hand a cup of thick greasy stuff. Unlike that with which the
swamp dwellers usually anointed themselves against insect attack, this
smelled fragrant and imparted invigorating freshness to the skin it
covered.

   "Healer," Kadiya shook off the last bewildeirment of sleep, "my thanks
to you." She sat up smiling at Tostlet.

   "The wise one, she had some things; I had otthers. Together we make
the winged biters fly away," the Hassitti explained with some
complacency. "Also it does not insult the nose with bad smelfls."

   Kadiya laughed. "True, Tostlet, and that is a comfort in this place."

   She had awakened for the first time with a (feeling of confidence. They
had much on their side in this battle. For all of Lamaril's warning, she was
certain that the Sindona could summon such Power as her own kind had
not dreamed of—perhaps far more than even the potent talisman of the
Three could command.

   As she rolled up her sleep mat to stow in her pack she saw that she was
one of the last to do so. Most of their company were eating, not only of the
trail rations, but also of gorba which had been freshly grilled. She saw
Lamaril licking his fingers, a sight which would 'banish much of the awe
in which his race was held were it to be witnessed by those from the
Citadel.

  Having roped her pack Kadiya moved toward the fire which was now
smoldering and accepted the last remaining gorba impaled on the twig
which had supported it over the flames.

   "Bright the day, fair the journey." Lamaril's greeting was formal and
she made answer as best she could.

   "Let it be so for all here!" She waited for the fish to cool a little as she
asked:
  "The dreamer?"

  "Dreamed," Lamaril returned. There was no lightness in him, and
Kadiya's earlier feeling of good fortune was somewhat quenched by that.
"We must travel fast and far."

   Jagun and Smail were not to be seen. The girl guessed that again they
were scouting ahead. Their packs she did see, slung on two of the
Sindona's shoulders along with those the Guardians already carried. Lalan
flanked Salin as they started out, though she was watchful only, not giving
any physical aid to the wisewoman whose staff did not seem this morning
to be so much of a crutch as a badge of office.

   They were soon off the hard ridge of earth which had supported them
for so long, and the pace slowed as they wove a way through bogs. Twice
that morning they faced stretches of water and each time they discovered
one of the swampland's craft waiting. There were no rimoriks to draw
these; rather the Sindona stood to the punting poles and ferried the party
across.

   They moved now through the tall golden growth which had given this
part of the mire its name. Although the monsoon had beaten off the seed
tops, it was thickened by new blades from below. The Sindona took turns,
the Hassitti often beside them, in swishing spear lengths through this
thick matting and sending the dwellers within scuttling away. Twice
Kadiya saw Hassitti bend forward with outstretched hand-paws and arise
holding writhing vipers which they spine-cracked with precision and
tossed away from the path.

   The party could not stop at noon—though they had slowed their pace—
for there was no stretch of ground firm enough on which to rest. Salin was
using her staff now, and Kadiya kept beside her, ready with a hand
wherever the footing was suspect.

   There had always been rumors that there were lost ruins in this
wilderness of golden bog; certainly the Uisgu had brought treasure to
trade at Trevista which had come from this land. But they had not
encountered any such sites through the day's travel.

   Jagun appeared in late afternoon when they had come at last to a rise
of ground on which they could crowd for a rest after battling the mud
banks and drifts. He was accompanied by three Uisgu, their faces heavily
painted with designs Kadiya recognized as those of the war trail.

   The news he brought sent their party angling westward, the newcomers
as guides. Before sunset they reached a stretch of island land. There were
even some trees standing and their coming sent spiraling upward six
droski—those birds whose rainbow hued feathers were greatly sought by
traders. The shimmer of the iridescent peach-orange against the sky was
eye catching. But there was no sweet singing to match that beauty, only
the birds' hoarse croaking. Beautiful as they might appear droski were
carrion eaters upon occasion and had habits which belied their
appearance.

   On the other hand they were extremely shy of any large ground moving
creatures, so to find them nesting here meant that the travelers had
reached a camping place which was not in use by anything large enough
to be an enemy—certainly none of their own kind.

   The Uisgu were mustering, was the message the newcomers brought.
The plague seemed to have halted its continued sweep across the land,
though it had infected a good quarter of their territory. Their healers and
wisewomen had been working hard to find a remedy—something to clear
the leprous land once more—so far to no purpose.

   There were Skritek loose, invading brazenly as they had in Voltrik's day.
A skirmish had already been fought, resulting in a draw with Uisgu
deaths. But the Drowners seemed eager to go west—mountainward—and
though trailed now by Uisgu warriors they did not attempt to turn aside
from the path they had chosen to wreak any more damage on the already
suffering land and people.

   Also, the Uisgu had noted that now they could travel even across the
diseased land without apparent danger, though they detoured when they
could to clean territory. Perhaps whatever granted them safety did not
hold for long.

   "We cross the Nothar," Lamaril announced. "Then turn west. The land
is better there and we can move faster."

  "The one of Varm?" Kadiya asked.

  "He moves on this side of the river, or so it was dreamed."
  "How swiftly?" the girl demanded.

   He did not have time to answer that. There was a squalling cry which
seemed to split the sky above them. Kadiya had never heard such a noise
before. It was menace given voice, hunger, rage—

  They were on their feet, the Hassitti huddled in around them, weapons
swung up and out.

   The screech tormented their ears for a second time. Kadiya had been
looking skyward since it seemed to come from that direction. Now there
was a wavering of the brush on the far side of the island on which they
were camped, vigorous enough to be clearly seen through the dusk.

                 Chapter Twenty-One

   THE THING SPRANG OUT OF HIDING WITH A leap. It did not tower
over them but the width of its body made it a monster such as Kadiya had
never heard described by hunters, and the mouth which gaped wide to
give vent to another screech was nearly as vast as a doorway.

   Rolls of warty hide almost hid the red eyes, which were well to the top
of its vast head. And there gushed forth from it such a stench as was an
assault in itself.

   The two forelegs were bowed outward and it plopped to a stand, its
gray paunch barreling out between them. Those forelegs ended in huge
webbed paws.

   This was a nightmare—the more so because Kadiya now recognized its
origin. There were dwellers in the water rooted reeds, no larger than her
hand, which resembled this monster.

   Out of that cavern of a mouth snapped a rope of tongue, thick and
patched with slime. It shot straight for one of the Hassitti and would have
trapped that little one, save that Lamaril moved with the speed of a
trained swordsman and swung his rod so that it struck full against that
menace of a tongue.

  There was a flash. The tongue jerked high. Down its length ran a fiery
ribbon of green-blue.

   That fire struck the monster's face only a finger length away from one
of the eyes. The whole body of the thing tensed. Kadiya had only a breath
of time to throw herself to one side, carrying Salin with her, before it rose
for another leap, one which would bring its giant weight down upon the
whole party.

   There came a scream from the sky overhead. Then Kadiya was sent
flying by the huge paw which scraped against her as the monster landed.
She fell facedown, dazed. A din arose behind her as she scrabbled in the
moist soil to bring herself up and around.

    What she saw through blurred vision was a battlefield indeed. Not only
was the toad monster in action but from the sky over their heads voor
were zooming in. They were not huge, but even voor of ordinary size were
able to raise and carry an Oddling, bearing off any such captive to tear at
it as they flew.

  She fumbled for the sword. Without a point, it was of no use as a blade.
Her hope was that the Power would come making it a potent weapon.

  But it did not warm in her hand; there was no life in it—the eyes were
near closed.

    Flashes from the weapon rods of the Sindona laced back and forth. The
toad thing bellowed, raised a foot high, and crashed it down. Kadiya
stiffened in shock as she saw it beat one of the Hassitti into the mud.

  Then as sharp as a battle shout a word struck into her mind:

  "Illusion!"

   She had scuttled out of range of that foot. The tongue hung in a limp
loop from the creature's mouth, though the end of it wriggled like a
serpent's severed length.

  "Illusion!" Again that imperative signal.

    How could there be any illusion to this? She could see one Hassitti leg
still protruding from under that paw. There were darts in the monster's
skin— and from the sky another voor planed down, its deadly talons ready
for a strike.

   She sighted Lalan with three other of the Sindona. They were making
no effort to avoid that strike from above. Were they indeed captive to
some illusion?

   Kadiya found voice at last: "Ware—voor!"

  None of them raised head to look at that attacker. The thing had
winged close enough now that its claws were closing about Lilian's helmet.
Though the Sindona might be too great a burden to bear skyward, the
voor's talons could kill.

   "Illusion!" For the third time that mind word.

   Kadiya clenched her hold on the useless sword. The voor's claws had
closed about Lalan's neck. The foul thing was beating its wings heavily,
striving to rise with its prey. Yet the woman's hands did not raise her rod
to beat it off, nor did she move.

   Illusion? Kadiya's one hand went to her breast. The amulet! She tugged
now at the chain, dragged it out into the open, and held the amber drop to
her forehead, lifting the mask helm. Why she did so she could not have
told save that it seemed she must.

   There was a sudden rending pain as if the amulet had the Power to
cleave its way into her very skull. Her sight blurred and then cleared.

   The sky was empty, Lalan stood free of any clawed hold. Kadiya gasped
and looked toward that other monstrous enemy. There was no rounded
warty shape as large as a trade boat. Lamaril stood over one of the small
reed dwellers she had long known. He stooped to prod at its puffed body,
which deflated under that touch.

    Illusion—all illusion! It was still hard for the girl to believe it true. She
crawled to the Hassitti who lay facedown where that powerful leg had
felled her___Tostlet… No!

   As the amulet swung back and forth on her breast, Kadiya used both
hands as gently as she could to turn over the small scaled body. There was
an impression in the ground; she had not imagined that. And Tostlet
rolled limply beneath her touch.
  Kadiya's fingers flew to the Hassitti's throat, searching for a sign of life.
How could one be slain by an illusion—or could belief in it be the real
weapon?

    "Tostlet?" She sought for mind send, for reassurance that the healer
still lived. "Tostlet, it was all illusion!" Even as Lamaril's word had reached
her she strove now to reach the Hassitti mind.

  The long nose quivered. That funneled tongue showed a tip and the
small eyes opened.

  "It was an illusion, Tostlet!" The girl had drawn the small body up
against her, the scales rasping her skin unnoted. "An illusion—look!"

  Kadiya supported Tostlet so that she could see the lumpish reed dweller
which Lamaril was still examining.

  The healer gasped, uttered a chittering cry. One of her hands closed on
Kadiya's arm as she turned her head upward to see the girl's face. Kadiya
nodded to enforce her mind words.

   "A trick, Tostlet, a trick to set'us against ourselves."

   "True." Salin hobbled over, sank painfully to her knees, still gripping
her support staff. "But such a strong one"—she shook her head from side
to side—"this is indeed of the great Dark."

  "Who?" Kadiya still held the healer. "What Power?" And why had the
sword failed her? She shivered. Had she come to depend too much on her
Power, that which in truth she did not and had never understood?

   Lamaril at last turned away from the toad thing.

   "Again it is the old pattern: the land turning what it holds into a
weapon." There was a twist to his mouth below the edge of the helm. "But
this is a game for those unknowing. How could Varm's creature believe it
would hold against us?"

  "Because it did—against some of us," Kadiya returned bleakly. "I saw
death—and Tostlet felt it. The belief held us, if not those who follow you.
Can he know how full our Powers may be? Even my sword failed."
  "But that which you wear did not," Lamaril returned.

   "Only because of your warning," she said stubbornly. "Otherwise… I
think these illusions would have indeed brought us death. Is that not so?"

  For a moment he gave no answer.

   "Is that not so?" she demanded a second time. "I am not of your race,
nor are the Oddlings, nor these little ones who cherished your memory so
long. If we cannot read illusions sent upon us by one who is a master, then
cannot our deaths ensue?"

   "Yes," his answer came at last. "But such illusions have now been
revealed for what they are and we are warned—

    "Warned so that we must mistrust all our eyes see, our ears hear. This
is a land which is already against us in part. Every bog and muck patch
can be turned into traps now."

   His nod was one of agreement and Kadiya shivered again. She had
wanted more from him, reassurance that this was not so. She had known
fear—but always before it had been real, issuing from some confrontation
she could understand. Now she was helpless.

  "King's Daughter—Kadiya." Lamaril moved closer. "We are what we
were born to be. You have wrought much in the past. Do not dwell upon
what you lack, rather look to what can be done. If the sword failed you,
your birth gift did not. You are not without resources."

   She hoped his mind touch could not sink deeper and release to him the
whirl of her feelings, the doubts which arose like black shadows to lessen
her confidence. Always she had been termed reckless, one to take chances
without proper thought. Now—now thought was blanking out her courage,
showing her a chasm which she might never be able to cross.

  "I do what I must do," she muttered and was very glad when he turned
away in answer to the summons of one of his command.

  Tostlet sat up straighter within the girl's hold.

  " Noble One—"
  Kadiya winced. "Please, Tostlet, you can see that I am not of the
company of these great ones. My name is Kadiya and I would that you
would call me also 'friend.'"

   "Friend," the Hassitti repeated. "Yes, there is goodness between us,
Kadiya. But also you are not less than we have called you. You wear
Power." She had wriggled around in the girl's hold and now held her hand
toward the amulet but did not touch it. The glow of the trillium, caught
forever within the casing of the amber, was steady—warming even—to
look upon.

  "Do not lessen yourself in your own eyes, friend," Tostlet continued.
"We go to match Power with Power, each of us has something to offer.
When a worker in metal fuses one kind with another he creates a stronger
weapon. We shall be such a weapon as can free this land."

   If illusions had been sent to delay their march the mage who had
summoned them was not well served. They pushed on following that
encounter at a pace which was even faster, the Sindona taking turns with
the scouts to seek out any more such traps.

   Whether their enemy wished to lull them into carelessness might be a
question, but they were not so involved again during the next two days of
march. On the second day they took again to boats, but these had come to
meet them. They were not only Uisgu-manned but also harnessed to
rimoriks, giving them speed which Kadiya had thought beyond their
hopes.

   They proceeded up this lesser branch of the Nothar and now the sun
sank behind the towering ridges of the western mountains. Uisgu scouts
came in twice to report that the Skritek were in force and
mountain-bound. But on the south side of the river there was another
army assembling—Uisgu, with Nyssomu of the northern clans.

   Many of these Kadiya recognized from the gathering which had joined
against Voltrik. Twice she asked to be set ashore to speak to commanders
of clan forces, warning them against illusions.

   The Hassitti dreamer was nearly frantic with frustration. All the talent
he knew could not prevail over a cloud of darkness which closed in the
north. Nor did Kadiya dare to try to reach Haramis again.
   On the third morning after their struggle with the illusions the stream
was already among the foothills. The water had lost the peat hue that it
carried in the swamp and it had turned chill, so that one cringed when
trying to wash in it. This stream was bom of the everlasting snows of the
upper heights.

   Also the warmth of the swamp was gone. The Oddlings wrapped
themselves in woven reed cloaks and offered the same to their
companions, though such garments were far too small to clothe the
Sindona. Kadiya gratefully accepted one, discovering that it was less of a
protection against the probing of mountain winds than she had hoped.

   Those Uisgu who had brought the rimorik-drawn craft regretfully
reported that they could no longer ask their water living companions to
travel on. This chill was not for those who were at home in the swamp.

   Thus their party took to the slower pace of land travel once more. But
the foothills were beginning and the footing continued firm.

    For the first time Kadiya saw the wind twisted trees of the heights. The
air was so crisp in the early mornings that it seemed to burn as she drew
it into laboring lungs. Lamaril used his rod weapon in an odd fashion
when they broke camp the morning after the Uisgu boats deposited them
on the west side of the river. Standing a little ahead of their company he
had balanced that length of gleaming metal on his flattened palm and
stood watching it with complete absorption.

  Kadiya had taken to wearing the amulet on the outside of her mail,
depending on it for warning. It had glowed for days now, and was always
warm, the sign they were nearing some source of Power.

  On Lamaril's palm the rod moved, swinging a fraction toward the
south. Once more he set it straight and watched, until again it made the
same move. So it was in that direction that they started off.

   They entered a valley between two of the foothills. Underfoot gravel
marked the bed of a vanished stream—or perhaps one which only filled at
certain times of the year. The lush growth of the swamp was gone. Here
was a tough grayish grass which had a sharp edged blade as Kadiya
discovered when her foot turned on one of the water rounded stones. She
grasped at turf to steady herself, only to have to lick drops of blood from
her fingers.
    Their going was not silent; now and then there was the clatter of a
weapon against a boulder where the valley narrowed. Once they heard a
scream from above and saw the spread of lammergeier wings as the huge
mountain-born bird swung down as if to closer inspect these invaders of
its country. Lammergeiers were in the service of Haramis. If there was
only some way of communicating with this possible sentry… Kadiya
watched it wing away. But surely her sister knew that there was trouble
and such a sighting would alert her.

   The streambed was now walled in by slanting rocks which grew taller as
they advanced. There was no longer any sight of vegetation—only ancient
water markings on those walls to show the rise and fury of the water
which had once battered a way here.

   Before them there was a sharp turn—and their way forward was
blocked by a towering sweep of stone, the gray surface of which was
streaked with wavering flashes of dull red and a pale yellow. Crystals of a
sort, Kadiya saw as she viewed them more closely.

   The course of the streambed was to the south here. But Lamaril had not
turned away from the barrier which fronted them. Instead his rod pointed
to it.

   Kadiya gasped. The weapon sped from his open hand—certainly he had
not hurled it—and struck against the rock where it remained horizontal,
as if the point had pierced the stone. At the same time her amulet flew
forward, the chain which anchored it rasping against her neck. It, too,
hung there until she grasped it and fought for a moment to tear it from
some invisible grip.

  On the surface of the stone those streaks of crystal glowed. Now the girl
could see they appeared to form patterns, not unlike the weavings of
Jagun's people, or the characters in some of the ancient books of Yatlan.

   Lamaril put his hand to the rod and pulled it back. For a period of
several moments the glow of that inscription remained and then was gone.
There was a shifting among the Sindona and Lamaril's lips now set in a
grim straight line.

   Kadiya was aware of an uneasiness which was not active fear, but
rather that which might follow direct disobedience of some old command,
as it had been with Jagun when they had first taken the road to Yatlan
forbidden to his people by very ancient Oaths.

   Lamaril swung left. But no stream had worn this way—it must have
been long dammed by the wall of crystals. This was a tumble of rock,
looking loose and dangerous to the footing. It showed as a sweep from
above where the wall had seemingly given way.

   They shed their packs and lashed them together in bundles. Their
cloaks followed, as they stripped for the ordeal of that climb. Kadiya
looked to Salin—could the frail Uisgu woman do this?

   However, the wisewoman showed no uneasiness. She had slung her
staff to her back and stood now, her hands outstretched before her, flexing
her fingers as if to prepare them for finding proper holds.

   The Hassitti had already clustered at the foot of that slide and now the
small ones started to test holds. Their clawed feet and forepaws proved to
be highly fitted to the task and they went up eagerly, followed at a slower
pace by Jagun and the Uisgu. Twice they froze tightly to holds as loosened
rocks gave way to thud downward.

  Kadiya made sure her sword was well fastened in its sheath and left her
short spear with her pack.

   How good a climber she might be she could not tell until she put herself
to that task, but perhaps she could still aid Salin. She motioned toward
the coiled rope on a Sindona pack.

  "Together—" she thought to the wisewoman.

  Lamaril, though she had not aimed the mind send at him, turned
sharply. But he did not object. Rather he took the rope from his comrade
and held it out to the girl.

   At first Salin shook her head and drew back. But Kadiya, without
warning, threw a loop of the rope about the little Oddling and had it
knotted before the wisewoman could slip away. Resolutely the girl turned
to the slope. Behind her Lamaril stood ready at the fore of the larger and
heavier Sindona.

                Chapter Twenty-Two
   KADIYA HAD NEVER TESTED HER STRENGTH against the raw stone
of such a climb before. There were no heights in the swamplands.
However, she knew better than to look anywhere but straight at the wall of
rubble before her. There were cracks enough to afford finger and toe
holds, but whether they might support her weight was another matter,
aware that some had shifted under the passage of the

  She was only too smaller and lighter Oddlings.

   It was a slow matter, this testing as best she could of each grip before
she trusted her full weight to it. Her fingertips bruised and her nails broke
against the stone as she fought to find crevices large enough to take the
toes of her boots. But advance she did.

   And so did Salin. The rope between them did not tighten; so far the
Uisgu woman was able to match Kadiya's climb. Then, under the girl's
right boot, a stone moved. Frantically she dug her hands into an upper
hold which held her spread-eagled against the treacherous rock slide.

   Fingers gripped her ankle; she could feel the determined force of the
hold even through her foot covering. A moment later her toe was slammed
into a space where it held steady. But she was shaking, and chill as was the
breeze which lapped at them as they climbed, she was sweating. Drops ran
down her chin from under the edge of her helm.

   She held where she was, trying to steady her nerves, to find the courage
to hunt out new holds above. Somehow she was able to do so. Finger hold,
toe hold, she fought upward. Then hands reached down to fasten about
her wrists, steady her, and lend strength to bring her, belly down, over the
rim. Still on her hands and knees Kadiya scrambled away from the drop
and felt the pull of the rope about her as Smail and one of the Hassitti
closed hand on it to draw Salin also onto the dubious safety of their perch.

   Perch it was for they had not reached the top of the cliff. Here was a
ledge where they could get to their feet and stand backs to the rise, the
battered scree up which they had made their way almost at their feet.
Once erect Kadiya could see whence that slide had come. This ledge had
been much wider but there were cracks across it, plain evidence that most
of its width had broken off to cascade to the dried streambed.
  There was something else. Kadiya raised her head higher, her nostrils
expanded, as she strove to catch that odor. Faint, but still it was! And it
was death!

   "The plague!" She set the danger into words as well as sent out a shaft
of thought. There was no blighted vegetation here, no form of life the
fungus could have fed upon, yet there was no mistaking that wafted
stench.

   Those beside her made room as Lamaril swung up to the ledge. He
must have been right behind her. She wondered fleetingly if it had been
his hand which had reset her footing.

  Their perch narrowed where the worst of the fall had occurred and they
edged along it with their back to the wall, taking the same care the climb
had demanded. The larger Sindona needed to venture very close to the
edge to travel at all. And over all was that stench of plague.

   Yet the ledge must be their road for it ran on past the crystalline
barrier above the dammed streambed. Lamaril and Fahiel of the guard
scraped by the others, steadied by those they passed as they went. Before
them scuttled the Hassitti. There seemed to be a new eagerness among the
small ones from Yatlan, as if they were engaged in a race.

   The barrier was wide and the ledge narrowed even more, until those
leading them dropped to the top of the barrier wall itself. They could see
ahead; the streambed still lay there and there were water marks high on
the walls as if the dam had once created a small lake. Here and there were
patches on the dry stone which Kadiya first thought were flowers, so
bright did the color appear against the rocks. Then she saw that they were
small beds of yellow and red crystals such as studded the wall.

   They reached the end of the barrier. Now they needed to descend again
into the streambed as that narrow upper way could not offer footing. The
packs which had been drawn up were reloweretl. ThiMi the Simlonu held
last the ropes while the Oddlings, the Hassitti, and Kadiya descended.

   One by one the Vanished Ones followed, until only Lamaril and Fahiel
remained above. Both of them went to their knees and turned their rods
point down against the surface of that wall. It was as if they used the rods
like the drills Kadiya had seen employed by boat builders. The slender
lengths settled into the stone.
   Looping the rope about them, Lamaril and Fahiel swung over the edge
and slipped down almost as one. When their boots thudded into the gravel
of the ancient streambed, they pulled at the rope and Kadiya heard at very
high range a whistling.

    She could see the rods twisting, loosing from the stone. Then they
flipped upward into the air and dropped so that their owners made quick
grabs to catch them.

   Lamaril rubbed his fingers along the length of his strange weapon-tool.
Kadiya could only see that gesture—not his features below the helm
mask— but she felt an uneasiness which she was sure emanated from him
and Fahiel, as if in some way they had diminished the Power they could
summon. If so, they accepted the fact quickly for the Guardian Leader
turned almost at once to the rest of them.

   "We go so—" he pointed ahead. "But 'ware touching the crystals. They
are guards of a sort, and we know not how long their Power has lasted,
how strong they still may be."

   Thus warned they threaded their way single file, watching the ground
and angling around one brilliant patch after another. The plague scent
was still in the air, yet it was not as strong as it had been when Kadiya had
faced the loathsome traces in the swamp. She kept a careful lookout, not
only for the dangerous crystals, but also for any kind of vegetation which
could support contagion. So far she had seen nothing but sterile stone.

   The streambed was sloping upward and, in spite of the high walls on
either side, ahead they could sight the dark bulk of the mountain country,
while the wind which whistled down that hollow was snow and ice chill.

   The daylight, already cut somewhat by the walls, was dimming. Close to
evening they had discovered no place where the land was free enough from
the crystals for any camp. Yet rest and eat they must—at least, thought
Kadiya, must the Oddlings, the Hassitti, and she. Perhaps the Sindona did
not need such refreshment.

  As it grew darker, the crystals began to glow. The light they emitted
was enough to mark them so they could be avoided. However, as far as
Kadiya could see ahead, there was no end to them.

  As far as she could see… Suddenly the girl realized that there was a
misting, a clouding before them on this path, not unlike the mists which
clung in the swamp country. Yet here was no water to give them birth.

   A curious thickness seemed to roil within the outer parts of that mist.
Also the smell of the plague was stronger. Kadiya slowed and mind sent a
warning which she hoped would reach all their company. Yet the Sindona
did not slacken pace.

    "Lamaril!" She strove to match the longer strides of the leader. "There
is rot ahead—

  "There is no other path, King's Daughter," he returned.

    She wanted to halt, to hold back the Oddlings, the scurrying Hassitti.
The plague might appear to be a lesser ill to the Sindona, but she had seen
it.

   Slowly Kadiya worked her sword free. Her exertions in the cliff climb
appeared to have forced it more tightly into the sheath. There was a small
glow of light—the eyelids were half open. From them beamed a subdued
radiance. They were alive, those strange orbs, and they had indeed burned
plague sores on the ground into nothingness—but could they withstand a
long demand on their Power?

   The mist was now a dark curtain, looking so thick as to be tangible, and
the path they wove toward it was growing shorter. Kadiya kept testing the
air. So far the putrid smell had not grown any stronger.

   Lamaril's rod swept forward. A spear of light no larger than the girl's
forefinger shot out against that curtain. He was actually slicing at it,
moving the rod up and down as he might a cutting knife.

   The dark shrouding did not dissipate. Instead it curled outward in long
ribbons, reaching toward them. Another illusion? Kadiya did not think so.
But neither did she believe it to be some ancient guard that the Vanished
Ones had left, even though Lamaril was so briskly dealing with it now.

   One of those strips of dark reached toward the left. A Hassitti—Quave—
crouched closer to the stony ground and wriggled backward. Lalan raised
her rod as one might use a whip to bring the unruly to terms and struck at
a wandering wisp.
  As if part of a sentient creature it recoiled, but a stone it had touched
showed a point of glistening slime—a bubble of rottenness from which
puffed forth that telltale odor.

  Three other of the Sindona moved up beside their leader. Their rod tips
were now pinpoints of bursting light—a light which leaped at those
writhing tatters of curtain.

   Fire ran along it as it twisted and spun, as might a living thing being
destroyed in a furnace. Then it was gone and they could see ahead. Yet
there were stinking spots on the ground, spattering the way before them.
Kadiya swung out the sword, aiming the eyes toward the first drip of
slime.

   But her will brought no answer from the triple orbs. It was one of the
Sindona who burnt the patch to nothingness.

   Shaken, Kadiya stood holding the weapon she had so long trusted. The
eyes were open and she could look at them, into them: the greenish one
which was like that of an Oddling, the brown flecked with gold which
might have been lifted from her own skull, and the bright and larger one
whose like she could see in any Sindona head.

   Watching—they were only watching—or waiting. For what? Preserving
their strength for some trial to come? Her jumbled thoughts could supply
answers but who knew whether they were true?

   However, she kept the blade unsheathed in her hand as she moved
forward behind the Sindona leaders, accompanied by the Oddlings and
the Hassitti who had now fallen back. The mists were gone; she could see
ahead.

   There was the ancient streambed continuing on and on, but to her left
there was something else. A narrow stair cut into the cliff wall, leading up.
And there were markings on the steps: dim patches dried and chip-like,
but yielding still the putrid stench of the plague.

   Lamaril's rod was at the ready. Light washed over each step as he
started to climb, cleansing the way as he went. They were steep, those
stairs, and plainly intended for the feet of the taller Vanished Ones. The
Hassitti were using both hands and feet to aid their ascent, and Kadiya
could only take a step at a time, sideways with her back to the wall, so that
she might aid Salin. The wisewoman seemed even more frail and
shrunken, yet she made no complaint, only drew from a belt pouch what
looked like a half handful of dried leaves which she packed into her mouth
and chewed upon determinedly as if she expected some aid from that
endeavor.

   Dusk had caught them, but the dark did not seem to deter the Sindona.
Perhaps through some talent night seeing was theirs, but Kadiya, keeping
resolutely from looking down over the unprotected outer side of those
stairs, found this now nearly as great a trial as the ascent of the rubble
had been.

   There must be an end to this. Had they passed from the foothills into
the true mountains? She shivered from the bite of the wind, though luckily
it was not strong—not strong enough to pluck them from this stair, at
least.

   They came out at last on a flat stretch of stone so smooth it might have
been pavement. The fore of that gave on a space well open to the winds of
fast coming night; the rear was another rise. This of rough stone
unworked, creviced here and there.

   Lamaril and the others who had flanked him in the battle with the mist
curtain went directly to the stone wall. Once there they held out their open
palms, rods pointed to the surface. Again the rods began to move of
themselves. Lamaril's left his hand to strike horizontally at a point a little
above his helmed head. Those of his companions flashed a few to each
side.

   Kadiya saw those weapon-tools move again, Lamaril's first right and
then left, drawing a thread-thin line of light across the rock. The other
operated in a similar way to draw two vertical lines. What they outlined
was an oblong which might mark a door.

   However, those lines of light winked out almost as soon as they had first
appeared. Lamaril quickly touched the rod but did not try to release it
from its hold on the stone. Once more the lines showed and then were
gone.

  Now he set his hands to the rock within the frame the rods had drawn.
Kadiya watched his whole body tense. Two of his companions moved in
behind him, one reaching for the Commander's right shoulder, the other
for the left.

  Power! Kadiya caught the backwave of what they were expending. It
was plain that the Sindona were attempting to force some opening.

  The backlash of energy was increasing steadily. In Kadiya's hands the
sword twisted in protest. She saw the eyes there close as if in pain.

  Another surge of the Power. Still Lamaril and the rest faced an
unyielding wall. The lines had flickered out this time not to return.

  "Sealed." Lamaril stepped back, having plucked his rod from its point
against the rock. "Sealed as it was left—but it does not answer for us."

   Resheathing the rod at his belt he once more faced the wall. Now he set
the fingertips of both hands against the rock surface, sending them back
and forth in sweeps, keeping within the section the lines had outlined.

   "There is darkness here—woven darkness!" The mind speech had not
come from Lamaril, rather it was Salin who stepped forward now. The
wisewoman's face showed both disgust and an underlying fear.

   "Darkness," she repeated as Lamaril turned his head to look down at
her.

   "The work of Varm's chosen!" Lalan stared. "Then he has won here
before us!"

   "I think not," said Lamaril slowly. "If that were so this way surely would
have been opened since he wishes what is within to come forth. Caskar set
the final locking—and he was not of Darkness. Nor was Binah, who
watched that setting that she might keep full guard. Kadiya," now his
mind touch reached the girl, "you have told us of this Orogastus who
meddled in the forbidden. What manner of man was he?"

   She tried to think of all Haramis had told them. But she also knew that
there was much concerning the sorcerer which had been private to her
sister and never shared, even though Haramis at the end had stood
against Orogastus and brought him down with the Power of their
combined talisman.

   "He knew much, but he was strange and from another land. We never
knew whence Voltrik brought him as an advisor. Only we were certain that
Voltrik moved to his bidding thereafter, whether the King knew it or not.

  "Haramis said that—though he knew much—he was thirsty for more
and that he believed that he would find hidden secrets in the mire ruins.
He was certainly one of the Dark and he sought always to master Power."

  "From another land…" Lamaril was thoughtful. "And Power draws
Power. This might have drawn him."

  "His own place was here in the mountains," Kadiya added eagerly.

  "A seeker who meddled, and perhaps set a lock so that his meddling
would be safe until he could come again," Lalan hazarded.

   "Perhaps—yet one escaped to reach Varm. And it could be his sealing
which bars us now. So." Lamaril looked back to the wall. "We can do the
same. When he reaches here he may be so delayed." He turned his full
attention to the Uisgu wisewoman.

  "What know you of sealing Power?"

   She settled herself cross-legged on the rock of the wide ledge, moving
with difficulty. But at her gesture Smail brought up their pack and worked
loose the ties for her.

   "What I have. Noble One, is small. I farsee, I foresee… a little. I have
arts of healing to some degree. What I have of protection is for the hunter,
the far traveler, or one troubled with ill dreams—

   "Dreams! That touches the Hassitti," interrupted Quave, padding to the
side of the Uisgu. "Dreams I can deal with. But of what use are they here?"

  Salin had been raiding the pack and now laid out three small packets
and a metal plate no larger than Kadiya's hand.

   "Perhaps they are no use as yet, small one." Lamaril rather than the
wisewoman answered Quave. "But all aspects of the Power have use."

  Kadiya tightened hold on the sword. All aspects of Power—

   Salin crumbled a small fraction of dried leaf onto the plate and added
pinches of powder from each of the other packets.
   Though it was dark now, the plate before her gave forth a glow and the
rods were like candles as their bearers moved in around Salin, leaving
open only the side toward the mountain.

   "This is the greatest ward I know. Noble One." The wisewoman brought
forth a small splinter and touched it to the plate. A spark sprang into the
mixture, and there rose from it a curl of smoke phosphorescent enough to
be seen. Salin waved her hand and that vertical thread of smoke became
horizontal, probing out to the wall.

  Lamaril had gone down on one knee, head turning from Salin to the
wall and back. Even in this poor light Kadiya could see his nostrils expand.
She had also caught the scent—acrid, teasing, such as might come from
some steaming highly spiced dish.

  "Zarcon—yes." His helmed head nodded. "Your song, wisewoman?"

   Still holding her hand to direct the smoke Salin put her head back as if
she now sought to address something unseen in the air above them.

   From her lips there came a strange quavering, not a song such as
Kadiya knew. Salin's eyes closed. Smail had moved to kneel behind her. He
brought his palm up and slapped it down on the rock, bringing forth a
regular rhythm. Kadiya could hear the sound fit itself into the guttural
quavers of the wisewoman.

   Now Lamaril was on his feet again. In two strides he was at the face of
the cliff. His rod out, he reached down toward the thread of smoke. The
end of that encircled the rod and, when he raised it, he drew the wisp
along.

   With a sweep of arm he sent the captive smoke toward the hidden
doorway. His rod flared brightly as he passed that weapon back and forth.
On the rock face lines showed again—this time thin and gray—smoke lines
being woven into a tight web.

               Chapter Twenty-Three

  IT WAS JAGUN WHO DISCOVERED A WAY from the ledge into
concealment. The web, having encased the doorway, had disappeared, but
Kadiya was certain that it was still in existence. Now they worked their
way along the ledge toward a break in the cliff wall that could not be seen
from their original position.

   Here a crevice formed a chimney-like stair to a higher point of the
mountain. The Oddlings, Hassitti. and Kadiya found it easy enough, but
the Sindona had to scrape their way in and up. The girl heard the rasp of
their mail against stone.

   Luckily the climb was not long and it led them into the narrow throat of
a greater break, one which widened out into a pocket of valley. It had been
occupied in the past, for they stumbled into a mass of dried branches,
grass, and unidentifiable material which made up a vast nest. They had
come upon one of the lammergeier lairs.

   However, Jagun and two of the Uisgu, having made a careful search,
assured them that it had been several breeding seasons since this had last
had inhabitants. As the giant birds always returned to the same nests each
season, this must have been abandoned for one reason or another.

   They set about clearing one mass of rubbish—which when stirred gave
off faint foul smells—from a space large enough for them all to crowd into
though these were very close quarters.

   That they were awaiting the coming of the Dark One Kadiya knew. If
he, on his escape, had indeed set up the barrier to protect his helpless
companions, then he might be delayed on his return by the net Lamaril
and Salin had spun.

   It was not until the girl subsided in the small space she could claim,
and was gnawing on a hard hunk of trail ration, that she surrendered to
the fatigue which was the result of their day's exertions. The persistent
ache of strained muscles wore at her. Kadiya had believed that she was
hardened to the trail after her exertions of the past days, but now she
knew the full cost of such a one as that just ended.

   This night the Sindona drew no protection circle, nor did they light any
fire, though the materials of the old nest were dry enough to make a good
one. Plainly there was to be no use of magic or light to warn off their
quarry.

  Kadiya wondered if the man she had seen arise jubilantly from the iron
throne would be easy to face. She had no knowledge of the extent of Power
either the Sindona or he could produce at will, but she had become sure
from Lamaril's attitude that the Vanished Ones considered this ancient
enemy of their own blood a formidable opponent.

   Luckily the walls of the crevice shielded them from the worst of the
night wind but she felt the shivers of Salin crowded against her, the
shudders of Tostlet on her other side. They shared with her such reaction
to the chill, which the mire-born had never known before. Their reed
cloaks, meant to shed the wet mists of the swamp, allowed these gusts of
air nearly free entrance.

   Kadiya was too tired to sleep and she had to fight against gloomy
thoughts of what might lie ahead. Had the Sindona not failed at the
doorway below, she would not have such active doubts. Having all her life
believed in the supreme Power of the Vanished Ones, to accept any limits
for them was to shake all her confidence.

   The girl wished that they might have tried to reach Haramis again.
Here in the very mountains where her sister had chosen to establish her
new home surely there would not have been the barriers they had met in
the mires below. But the ban against any use of sorcery held for their own
protection.

  At length her weariness wore out all her inner questioning and doubts,
and she slept without any dreams to trouble her.

   The sky was barely the gray of dawn when she awoke within their
cramped camp. The form on her right had stirred and was sitting upright.
And against the sky at the edge of their crevice perch Kadiya could see the
silhouette of two helmed heads, Sindona already alert and at watch.

   "King's Daughter— ' It was the merest thread of mind touch, then a
clawed paw-hand touched her gently. Tostlet.

  "There is trouble?" Kadiya shook the last of the sleep from her mind,
aware now of something else—that the sword hilt against her arm was a
spot of growing warmth.

  "There is—a secret…" That last word was tentative, as if the Hassitti
healer was not quite sure.
  "Where?"

  "Beneath us."

   Tostlet had pushed and pulled away the flooring of the nest, the
powdered stuff which had coated the stone when they had cleared the
coarse tangled mass. Now her claws scratched faintly on the stone. Kadiya
could not see, she could only guess what the Hassitti did in the abiding
gloom. But she put out her own hand, felt claws close about it to bear her
ringers downward.

   There was stone, but also something else. Surely the smoothness of
metal! And it was tightly affixed to the stone, set level with the rock. With
Tostlet's guidance the girl traced an angle, what might be the corner of a
larger piece.

  As she had leaned forward to answer the Hassitti's pull the amulet on
her breast came to golden life, swung out over that portion of the rock
under them.

  "Kadiya!"

  Lamaril's mind touch. She could always easily recognize it.

  "There is something here. It is of Power."

    Those about them stirred; the mind touch must have awakened them
all into action. Some drew aside as the Sindona leader joined Kadiya.

  By the glow of the amulet she saw his hand held out over that spot palm
down.

  "Power." He echoed her own conviction. "Let us leam more of this."

   There was not much room in which to work, but those around them
drew back as far as they could. The dusty deposit encrusting the rocks
gave forth a faint unpleasant odor as they scratched it up but it was not
that of the plague warning.

   With their hands and the use of some of the brittle bits of wood, they
scraped clear a space to discover something which was indeed metal. As
the daylight advanced they could see more detail than the amulet light
had shown. What they had uncovered was a grating inset in the rock. The
narrow open strips which made up most of it formed a frame clogged with
dust. There was no sign of any method of lifting it; the metal seemingly
had been fused to the rock about the edges.

   "It is of the sleepers' prison." Lamaril settled back on his heels.

  "It is also guarded," Tostlet commented. "Noble One, this is a mighty
guard—from the ancient days."

   "Indeed. Yet it may serve us. The rind is good—

  What more he might have said was swallowed by a thrust of warning
which overrode all other mind speech.

   "Someone comes from below!"

  The chain of Kadiya's amulet moved as her talisman swung to the left,
pointing now toward the outer edge of the crevice. Kadiya tensed. Her eyes
were for her sword since she was too far from that vantage place and there
were too many crowded in between to see what was happening. The sword
had come alive, there was no dull withdrawal in the orbs on the pommel
now.

  There was a scuttling sound as Jagun dropped from above into the
back of the nest crevice.

   "Skritek above gather on both sides!"

   They were trapped in part by the narrow cliff in which they had
camped. The Sindona moved back along the way which had brought them
here. Their rods swept beams of light downward across the debris of the
nest while the Uisgu fell back to the walls of the cliff to give the others full
room, dart blowers in hand. The Hassitti took position among the mire
people. Kadiya, perforce, had to do likewise for the moment, the large
bodies of the Sindona choking the chimney descent.

   She was studying the cliffs on either side. The rock widened out so that
this cut was wedge shaped and they were in the narrowest portion.
Lammergeier were huge birds, able to bear riders—she had seen Haramis
so mounted. So the downsweep into this deserted nest was certainly large
enough to admit the smaller voors.
   Fire was the most effective weapon against those deadly raiders. But to
fire this nest mass would be to also condemn themselves to roasting. The
stuff was too dried and brittle to keep flames from roaring up quickly.

   In the gray sky flapped wide black wings—certainly voor. What had
drawn them here? The cold air of the heights was surely not to their
taste—they must somehow be under the control of the follower of Varm.
Not only the voor cruised the sky above; a waft of air down the cliff
brought the stench of Skritek. The Dark-led party must have discovered
this cliff and spread out to come upon them both from below and above.

   There was a roar from overhead followed by a rock bounding from the
top of the cliff against which Kadiya and a good part of their company
sheltered. It struck the opposite side and rebounded straight at them! It
hit again, near enough to Kadiya to make her cringe. The Uisgu closest to
that point threw himself to one side quickly enough to escape.

   That was but the beginning of the bombardment intended to either
crush them where they stood or drive them down into the chimney. They
were surely in a trap. A voor planed down. Then it twisted and screamed.
The Oddlings might be under dire attack of a new kind but they were not
so fearful as not to be ready. The creature was falling, turning over and
over, and as it crashed into the mass of the ancient nest, Kadiya saw two
darts in its body—recognized them for those envenomed thorns Smail had
fashioned during their questing.

   The rocks continued to fall. There came a scream which resounded
through Kadiya's head. One of their beleaguered company had been struck
down.

   The voor they could sight weaving back and forth overhead did not try
a second attack. But there was no end to the rocks sent to pin them in, if
not crush them. Nor was there, that Kadiya could see, a way to reach the
attackers on the crest above. Jagun had climbed there earlier, and
descended to bring his warning. But to try a second ascent was to face
rolling rocks at too great a risk.

  They would be safer below. Kadiya mind-touched and those lining the
walls began to obey her, moving slowly to the opening down which they
must climb.

  Now she tried mind touch with Lamaril. What did he and the Sindona
face below?

   For a moment or two it was as if she looked through his eyes. Skritek
were striving to reach the ledge before the curtained door, only to be
picked off by rod flashes. Yet still they came, and now she could hear their
yammering cries even over the crash of the rock bombardment.

    The mind touch snapped as if there had never been such a link.
Lamaril? But if he had fallen how had the enemy reached him? She had
seen no Skritek get past the edge. Kadiya struggled with all the force she
could summon to link again, only to meet a forbidding curtain. Lalan—she
pictured the woman in her mind, strove to hold that picture. Dark wiped
it out, closed down.

  Dead! Were they both dead? She could not believe that—she dared not.

   Salin had Power, the Hassitti dreamer had Power of a sort, but now her
sword might be their only defense. She must not let the others make that
climb down, perhaps into the waiting talons of the Skritek.

   At her command—though Jagun and Smail stood firm against her until
she shook the sword before them and they gave back at the sight of those
open glowing eyes—the Oddlings and Hassitti drew back to let her go first.

   She needed both hands for the descent, but she must also have the
sword at ready. Kadiya set the blade between her teeth, gripping it as
tightly with her jaws as she could. The weapon was growing ever hotter
and it fretted the corners of her lips. She held on grimly, putting her mind
on the handholds and footholds which would take her below.

   Kadiya was into the chimney halfway down, when the Power force
reached her. It came like the surge of a monsoon-mad river. She clung to
the holds, fighting for the strength to keep from falling.

   That punishing force changed from a surge to a steady pressure.
Continuing down was like lowering oneself into a vast pool of energy which
she expected any moment to flatten her against the rock as crushingly as
one of the stones the attackers had been flinging.

   That pressure made each movement a struggle. The sword between her
lips grew more and more like a coal of well-nourished fire. Still, stubbornly
Kadiya fought on. Though when she did at last reach firm footing, she
clung for a moment or two to her last hold, the Power force so strong now
she wondered if she could long stand before it.

   With that a-play Kadiya knew better than to again try communication
with those she sought. Power might flood along any path of
communication, know and seek her out. The sword— Shakily she put up
one hand and freed the sword from the grip of her aching jaws. Power
attracts Power… But there was no way she could control the output of
either the sword or the blazing amulet on her breast.

   The girl turned away from the wall and edged toward the open. The
weight of the force out there was intense. Surely that must signal that the
Sindona were still alive, fighting—or were they prisoners of the same
pressure she felt?

   Now she could look out upon the ledge. The backs of Sindona who were
erect, at least still alive, faced her. She had to twist a little, without
venturing out of the shadow of the fissure which hid the chimney climb, to
see Lamaril.

   He was positioned a fraction ahead of the others, his rod agleam.
Facing him was that other, the one she had seen in the sanctuary.
Cloaking him was a strange shimmer as if he did not wear armor but
rather a force flowing from within his body. His head was unhelmed, and
his face plain to see.

   There was a smile on his lips. His eyes held small center cores of red.
There was no hint of the ravages of the plague about him. Rather he stood
with the confidence of one totally in command of himself.

    Mind speech—she was sure they were using mind speech, they stood so
still in that confrontation. Kadiya wet her sore lips with her tongue tip.
Dared she try to pick up what they said? Or would that move somehow
disturb the scales—attract attention in the wrong way?

   She could not just wait on results. She must know. This had been her
battle from the first. These others had taken it on, but she was not to be
denied her part in it. The mires were threatened by that shimmer-clad
stranger—befouled as even Orogastus had not done. Kadiya reached,
seeking the level on which the enemies spoke.

  "… there was said this day would come, fool. Your spells broke in the
end—I stand here proof of that!"

  "But not by you were they broken, Ragar That Was. There was
meddling in the mountains, but that meddler is no longer to be called
upon. You summoned him, did you not, Ragar?"

   "How clever of you, Lamaril. You seem to have become more astute
while you lolled about in that paradise of yours all these many seasons.
Yes, the one named Orogastus could be touched, even by a sleeping mind.
Dreams are very powerful—and dreams a sleeper can use. He could not be
controlled, of course—our bounds would not allow open contact—but we
fed into his mind that there was a secret hereabouts which was worth the
seeking. And he was a most curious little meddler in what he did not
understand."

   "Except he did not bring your full release. Rather his action set the
pattern for others, Ragar."

   "One needs only a door unlocked, Lamaril. Which now moves me to
action—behind you is that which I locked and now would open. He who
sent me is not one to practice patience and he has waited overlong."

   "The sleepers sleep," Lamaril returned calmly. "You shall not disturb
them, Ragar."

   One side of Ragar's mouth moved in a way which made his smile a
cruel grin. "Shall not? Such words to me?"

  With a flash of brilliant fire he swung his own rod point out. The flames
were dark, the red of drying blood, with no honesty of real fire about them.

   They met a golden wall raised by the Sindona's weapons. There was
dark smoke and the red flames bored in, darted in flashes from place to
place. Twice red fire bore back the gold, only to have the barrier
straighten. Kadiya reeled under the backlash of the Power. But somehow
that which beat inwardly in Lamaril reached her as well. The Sindona
held—but they could not raise a counterattack. Into the other weapon
Ragar had poured a raving hatred which was energy in itself—a fuel
supplying ever more force. Ancient bitter rage which had been honed
through countless seasons, meant to be used when the opportunity arose.

  There was even a low keening from that meeting of flame against flame,
like that given by some beast not to be robbed of its prey.

   Then—a thrust of the flame, a flicker of gold. The flame hit through the
gold barrier to the wall of the cliff behind Lamaril. The Sindona on the
Captain's left buckled at the knees—Nuers fell forward.

   Ragar screamed his triumph. The dark flame clung to the wall. Even
though the golden light flashed back, shutting off its source, it remained
to crawl back and forth across the stone.

   "Not yet, Ragar, not yet." There was Oath-grimness in that. Nuers did
not move. The rod he had dropped, had snapped and lay as might a dead
branch.

   "Soon, soon, Lamaril—very soon!" There was a heady confidence in
that, like a blow in itself.

                Chapter Twenty-Four

   THE LIGHT WALL OF THE SlNDONA CONTINUED to hold. The
crawling flame on the rock remained alive as well, though there was no
sign of the door. A scream shattered the drive of flame energy.

   A voor swept down at those on the ledge. It was the largest of the
species Kadiya had ever seen and it swooped straight at Lamaril. Without
thinking the girl raised her sword, setting the eyes on a line with that
diving death.

   From the great eye on the pommel shot a finger-wide beam which
caught the head of the bird of prey. The voor uttered no more cries but
twisted in the air to fall as heavily as a stone.

   Into the battle of red flame and gold light hurtled the plummeting
body. There followed a flash of brilliant fire, strong enough to blind Kadiya
for the moment. Then she heard a cry of triumph, not mind sent but
uttered aloud. The line of golden light had broken, the red flame licked out
avidly at Lamaril.

  Again Kadiya, without thought, turned the sword against the attack.
This time there was no answer. Lamaril had gone to his knees and the
light of his rod dimmed. That attacking fire flared high beyond him,
straight for the hidden door.

  "Out—away and out!"

    The cry rang in her mind. Kadiya held the sword in both hands. Her
bringing down of the voor had caused this, broken through the Sindona
defense. She could see them only through tearing eyes, for the burst of fire
still half blinded her.

   If that door opened now—if those within came through—Lamaril and
his people would be caught between two attacks, crushed…

   She pulled farther back. There was only one slim chance, so slim that
she could not count on any success. Still, she knew she must take it.

  Kadiya turned her head. Crowded tightly behind her were the Hassitti
and the Oddlings. some of them still clinging to the walls of the chimney
because there was no room to move out below.

   Did the rocks still crash down up there? Perhaps that which she must
seek would be entirely buried—yet there was a chance, a chance…

  "Jagun." She sighted the hunter among those packed so tightly behind
her. "I must go back—

   The others picked that up quickly. She heard murmurs, the chittering
of the Hassitti.

  "If there is another way into the place of the sleepers, we must use it
and attack!"

   They were moving in the chimney, reclimbing, to clear the way. She
saw Jagun swing to a newly vacated spot and reach for a handhold. Kadiya
squeezed through—Salin and two more of the Uisgu, the Hassitti somehow
giving her room. Once more she took the sword in her jaws, withstood the
heat which held in it, rising to a greater level with every passing moment.
So she climbed.

   Those who had proceeded her were once more plastered against the
walls of the crevice. The hail of stones had stopped, but there were piles of
them across the stretch of the nest. And surely there must be lookouts
above to make sure their quarry did not venture here again.

   What she sought lay in the open, plain to the eyes of any watchers
above. Yet she had no choice. Kadiya took the sword by its blade and
surveyed that broken mass before her desperately. The grid—it must lie…
there!

   Something pressed against her from behind, and she heard a loud,
impatient chittering. The Hassitti had followed her up. She nearly fell as
the first of them shoved past her.

   Kadiya tried to warn it out of the open with her other hand, but it had
fallen onto its belly and was skittering out into the nest makings,
burrowing into the pile of stuff they had swept aside earlier to uncover the
grid. There was a rise of dust, the scent of the ancient foulness of long
dried droppings.

   Stones? Kadiya's upward glance searched the edge of those cliffs. No
sight as yet of any Skritek on guard.

   She went to her own hands and knees and then even lower, crawling,
wriggling as had the Hassitti out toward the grid. The dust whirled about
her. She dared not cough, for once more she held the sword between her
teeth. Always she listened for Skritek yells of triumph, the sound of falling
stones.

   That these did not come was almost a matter for fear. She could not
believe that the creatures had abandoned their perch above, were not
ready to deal again with any of the party daring to return.

   She crawled onward. Then she was in the open, hunching in upon
herself as if such a clear target could somehow be made invisible. She
grabbed the sword so quickly from her mouth that there was a sharp pain
and a trickle of blood marked her chin.

   They had cleared the grill when they had found it. Now the Hassitti,
who had beaten her to this goal, was running claws about the meeting of
stone and metal, plainly striving to find some crevice.

   "Back!" Kadiya's thought was a sharp order. The Hassitti—it was Quave
she saw now—obeyed.
   A clatter sounded above: a stone coming. Kadiya cowered. If it was
going to hit— She flopped over on her side and saw the thing strike.

   It was close enough to send grit and dust puffing into her face. But she
saw something else: Jagun and Smail climbing up the walls. Around both
of them thickened a strange and quivering envelope of dull green into
which they disappeared from sight more and more. It was also turning
grayish, fading into the stone behind it. Power—but whose? Kadiya had no
time to wonder.

   She turned again and held out the sword, striving to banish everything
from her mind save what must be done—to feed into the weapon she held
the utmost strength she could summon.

   The sword heated still more, the pain in her hands was a rising
torment. Now the three eyes blazed down on that grid. She shifted the
focus so the light moved slowly back and forth across the metal. Pain was
rising to the point where she could have screamed and she fought it
bitterly. This must be done!

  There was a shimmer on the grid—or was that her eyes betraying her?

   No, even when she moved the sword there remained a glow across the
metal. With all her remaining strength Kadiya continued to lace that plate
even as Lamaril had laced the door below. But this was not to seal a
barrier. It was a key to open one—if all the forces of Light would will it so!

   The Power was so draining! A second Hassitti had joined the first. That
the grid was glowing with heat did not appear to trouble them at all as
they clawed in and around those shimmering metal bars.

   A harsh ripping sound— The Hassitti, working together, had suddenly
thrust downward and the grid had given!

   What the aperture had sealed was now a dark hole. Kadiya crawled
forward once more. She had no time to waste.

    Trying not to think of crashing rocks though wondering for a second
why those had not come, she sat up and held the sword over the hole. The
eyes were near closed. They gave no light to see. The amulet! Would that
serve instead? Kadiya clawed the chain from around her neck and dangled
it down. As the amber passed the surface where that barrier had been it
did indeed give light. At least enough to show a large space below, and
that the drop to the floor was not beyond her powers.

   Her mouth hurt too much for her to grip the sword again. She
managed to anchor it to her belt where it could be quickly to hand. Then
Kadiya swung over to let herself drop, moving away just in time as two of
the Uisgu followed, and then a third.

  The chamber which they entered thusly was not a rough cave. Its walls
had been smoothed; they reflected a little the gleam of the amulet. Piled
about those walls were coffers of metal such as Kadiya had seen in Yatlan.

   There was nothing else. But as she turned slowly, the amulet in hand,
she glimpsed a dark patch on the far wall which was so much in shadow
she could hardly distinguish it.

   Toward that she hurried, the Uisgu after her. They had been joined by
Salin, as well as the Hassitti who had scrambled through the hole to drop
what was a much longer distance for them.

   As she approached the far wall Kadiya could see a door there—or rather
an opening across which there appeared no barrier. Yet, as she stepped
toward it, she came up against a wall she could not see, though it was firm
under the hands she put out to feel across that invisible surface.

   There was only one key she knew of, one which had served her faithfully
in the past. She unloosed the sword and held it vertically to face the
unknown.

  From the pommel streamed a light indeed, but very faint—from one eye
only, that which resembled her own. Back and forth she swept it, as she
had cleared away the grid.

   Kadiya felt with her other hand. The way had opened, yet she could not
see what lay beyond. The amulet's gleam appeared almost as if it were
thrown back upon itself.

   Nevertheless the girl moved on, the others close on her heels. And once
beyond that portal the light did indeed wax—enough so that she did not
stumble on two steps leading downward into what was a space her poor
light could not reveal in its entirety.
   Sword ready in one hand and amulet in the other Kadiya moved
cautiously. Under her worn boots the flooring was smooth. Thick dust lay
there and it was disturbed enough by their passing to set them all
coughing.

   Then the dim light caught on something looming out of that dust.
Kadiya saw another coffer but this was as long as one of the Sindona was
tall. The sides were of the blue-green metal of which their race had made
so much use. However, the top gave back, even from so pale a light as the
amulet emitted, glints of brilliance. As the girl came up beside it she saw
that the whole of the lid seemed to be one massive slab in which crystals
were embedded, point-up.

  Salin joined her.

  "A sleeper," the wisewoman answered Kadiya's unasked question.

   The Hassitti who had left the circle of amulet light now scuttled
forward. "Three more which are sealed—one broken by fire," Quave
reported.

   Kadiya went to see for herself. The Hassitti was right. The crystal
encrusted lid of the farthest coffer had been broken and blackened as if
from fire. In fact most of it lay in jagged pieces on the floor.

   From the interior arose a fetid odor which reminded Kadiya strongly of
the plague scent.

   "Do not go near it," she warned quickly as she turned back to view the
other coffers.

   If those Sindona who held the ledge had failed, if—if Lamaril was gone,
then what these held would be summoned forth to do the will of the Dark.
And, she thought grimly, they would do it well. Perhaps they would spread
the plague to rot the mires still more. The peril would reach across
Ruwenda to send death across all the lands she knew, and perhaps even
beyond.

  These who slept here… there could be only one answer. They must not
wake!

  "Salin, Quave." She sought the wisewoman, the dreamer. They had
Power of a sort; she had more. But might those strands be woven together
to do what must be done? They must! And it would be a race against time.
Their skills had locked the outer door, but the Dark Power lay now both
over and under their spelling—two sides might well crush the middle! And
the Sindona might be even now falling just as she had seen Lamaril go
down.

   The short Uisgu, the even smaller Hassitti, now flanked her one on
either side.

  Kadiya pointed to that coffer next to the one which had been broken
open. "What lies within must not awaken."

  "Kill!" The Hassitti's demand was swift.

    "King's Daughter, we have not the Power to keep it sealed. The little one
is right—the sleeper must be destroyed."

   "But first we must open this." Kadiya doubtfully eyed the lid with its
coating of jagged crystals.

   Those Uisgu warriors who had followed her were closing in now. They
looked frail and small against that coffer, but one was already feeling
along the top edge, seeking some lock or fastening. Then three of them
moved in together and Kadiya joined them. There was enough of an
overhang of that lid to give them finger room for a grip and now they all
exerted strength to lift.

  The solid weight or perhaps a restraining spell was against them.

   Kadiya strove to insert the pointless end of the sword—but with no
result. Then Salin drew her hands along that sealed line between top and
sides.

  "There is a Power-lock," the wisewoman reported.

   One set by the Vanished Ones long ago, Kadiya wondered, or one placed
by that dealer of death who fought without, to protect his kind until he
returned? Either could be beyond her hope of breaking.

  She had only the sword— But not to try was to admit failure, and that
Kadiya could not do.
   Once more she turned to Salin. "Will you link—you, and Quave also—
What inner strength the Hassitti dreamer might be able to summon the
girl had no way of measuring, but surely there was Power behind those
dreams.

   Salin moved closer. Her hand touched Kadiya's shoulder, and the
Hassitti was quick to link by touch in turn with the wisewoman. Kadiya
drew a deep breath and called upon the sword, aiming the now open eyes
at the edge of the coffer.

   The light beam answered. She saw the light center on the edge between
lid and side. Then, though her hand did not move by any will of her own,
the sword tilted so that the spear of light now moved across the top of the
lid, waking to fiery light the many points of crystal with bursts of
brilliance strong enough to be nearly blinding.

   Those points of crystal took on the full fury of flames. Kadiya thought
she could see them outlined in a haze as if they were really burning. Back
and forth the light swung—she was now subject to whatever had taken
control of her weapon.

  She was dimly aware of a disturbance at her back, that the Uisgu
warriors had gone in that direction, but she held to complete
concentration as best she could.

   There came a shattering noise. Bits of the crystals exploded outward.
Kadiya flinched as a line of pain split one cheek from edge of helm mask to
chin. The lid broke in a frenzy, throwing parts in all directions. Draining
energy had drawn her some steps forward and now those splinters of glass
flew so that she threw one arm across her face, a moment later feeling
pain as if many Oddling darts had pierced her skin.

   When Kadiya dared to look she saw that the lid had broken across.
Parts of it were missing, either thrown outward by the force of that
breaking, or fallen within the cavity which had been concealed.

   The sword was dimming. For all the extra energy had added to her own
strength, it was still plainly near exhaustion. Kadiya realized that her own
will was spinning.

  She was wet with sweat from the effort, worn but still able to keep to
her feet. Now, with her free hand, she caught at some of those loose
chunks, jerking them free to hurl to the floor. Salin and Quave joined at
the work.

   For the first time Kadiya was mindful of something else: a high,
ear-tormenting keening. She looked over her shoulder toward the wall.

   There, even as she had seen it on the ledge outside, showed the outline
of a doorway—but not marked in the golden of the Sindona searching,
rather in the sullen red controlled by Varm's liegeman.

  Setting her teeth Kadiya turned back to her own task. The Uisgu
warriors were waiting, blow pipes in hand facing that wall. That they
could hold when the Sindona had gone down she doubted. But that door
was as yet closed.

   She looked down into the coffer. There was a misty veiling there, as if
the box were rilled with sluggishly moving liquid. Still, she could see the
outlines of a humanoid form within, one as tall as the Sindona.

   That any dart, any spear, could put an end to what slept here, she
doubted. The moving swirl about it was rising, and from it puffed the foul
odor of the plague, so foul that she felt some offal had been thrust into her
bleeding face.

  Sword fire had defeated the traces of the plague, sword fire was all she
could summon now. Kadiya felt once more the touch of Salin, and an
added small but steady surge of Power which must have been from Quave.

   Kadiya raised the sword horizontally over what lay in that muck. There
was light, but not from the large orb which crowned the three—rather it
fed from the two beneath. And it was only a thread compared to what she
had earlier been able to summon.

   Yet she stood as steady as she might, sending that double beam down
into the mass within.

   The light hit the surface of whatever coated the sleeper, spread
outward. There was a small flickering—not quite fire, but still something
which moved. Then, as might a fire when blown upon, it flared up and
coated all the length of the sleeper, blasting outward with the stench of
death.
   Deep in her mind Kadiya heard a thin, anguished cry. Did she or did
she not see that shrouded form beneath the fire writhe?

  The sword eyes closed. She must accept that what they had to offer had
been given. However, they had cleansed but one of those coffers. Only one!

    Desperately she regarded the three which remained. She could not do
it, but she must! Leaning against the edge of the one wherein the fire was
smouldering, she glanced back apprehensively at the outline of the door.

    It was more than just an outline now; the wall within those lines had
begun to glow. Yet it seemed to her that the dull red was not so dark, that
it had in some way been diluted, lessened. Perhaps the Sindona's fire had
sapped the Power of the enemy. Yet Kadiya was certain that, even in a
weakened state, what that other could command far surpassed anything
she might summon.

   She stood away from that coffer they had plundered and wavered on to
the next. Salin had reached the side of that before her, and Quave's arm
about Kadiya's waist was supporting her with a strength she would not
have thought possible in the smaller Hassitti.

   "Power of the mire," Salin said, "Power of your kind, King's Daughter.
Perhaps only Power of the Old Ones does not hold here. If it is Power of
the mire—"

   Now instead of just touching Kadiya she reached out and covered the
girl's sword hand with her own, while Quave stood between them, a paw
on each.

  "Now!" Salin made that word a call to battle.

   With an effort Kadiya lifted the sword. She willed— There was a
stronger surge of force into that blade than she had felt earlier. Now she
knew what to do, and, with the Uisgu helping to hold the weapon, she
traced a pattern across the crystal back and forth as quickly as she could.

   Once more that shattering—and Kadiya saw from the corner of her eye
a bloody line open on Salin's shoulder, felt a peppering of broken crystal
against her mail. Again the light from the two eyes alone ate at what lay
within.
   Kadiya kept her feet with difficulty. Her sword arm was growing so
heavy she feared she could not hold it aloft again. She did not wait to see
the fire finish the second sleeper. Instead she staggered with Salin and the
Hassitti to the next coffer. Two more—could they do it?

   The door on the wall was fully aglow, heating so that the Uisgu guard
were forced back. But now it bore a golden tinge. The Sindona? Could it be
that they were not totally vanquished? Lamaril—thought flinched from her
memory of him. She thrust his image away from her, buried it. Only one
thing mattered now—those two coffers yet to be emptied.

   Salin tottered beside her. Once more they linked, and, with the Hassitti
feeding them, they wrought against the crystal. This time she was cut
along the throat by the flying shards, though luckily the helm kept her eyes
from danger. Again the light brought fire and an ending to what lay
beneath.

  They turned to the last of the coffers. Kadiya was doubtful if she could
keep her feet long enough to reach it.

   Sound—not the shattering of crystal which they had not yet attacked,
but a deep rusty note. Before their eyes the lid of the last coffer began
slowly to rise.

                 Chapter Twenty-Five

   THE THING WHICH EMERGED MOVED SLOWLY as if with great
effort. From it the form-shrouding liquid rolled away reluctantly; it was
viscid, like the heavy slime of a bog snail. The thing flung out both arms,
hands curled about the edges of the coffer to pull itself upward.

   Now its half shrouded head turned. Kadiya saw only the eyes in that
face, eyes which held the dark fire of Varm's burning. Instinctively she
retreated, her companions with her. She swung the sword up between
them and that thing levering itself out of its age-old bed.

   Greenish liquid which was like a distillation of rot splashed on the rock
as it gained its feet. One arm swung out and droplets of that stuff
spattered near them. A long leg swung over the side now and the thing
was almost free of its bed.
    The sword— There was no gleam from the top orb. That was glassy,
lifeless. But from the other two broke pencils of light, joined to form a line
hardly thicker than a reed-net thread.

   Kadiya aimed, knowing even as she did so that she might have made a
fatal mistake in gauging the weakest point of this sleeper. However, she
centered that lesser beam at its rounded ball of head from which the slime
was still sloughing. It struck full on and the creature jerked back, flung up
one arm in an attempt to deflect the beam.

   At the point where that light struck grew a spark of fire, as if a single
small twig had been ignited. This new fire was neither the red of Varm,
nor the golden radiance the Sindona commanded. It was green, the fresh
green of newly sprouted river reeds.

   It struck and seemed to root, and from it sprung tendrils of even finer
girth which writhed around the head. The creature's cry was not for the
ears, but rather a raw pain in Kadiya's mind. She might have reeled back
but the Hassitti, with a surprising show of strength in his small body,
steadied her.

   The head of the awakened sleeper was now fast being enclosed in a
green net. Its second cry came from the throat—a scream in which rage
sounded even greater than pain. It threw itself forward, hands
outstretched as if to embrace all three in one swoop of attack.

   Death! Like its fellow, it carried death in its touch. The opened coffer
behind her was now a wall against which Kadiya half cowered, knowing
that there was no escape from that vindictive attack.

   On her breast the amulet was an orb of fire in itself. It swung from side
to side though she was not willing that movement. And there was a shrill
din in her ears, a crying as if a hundred, a thousand voices of the mire,
Oddlings, all manner of creatures—perhaps even plants—were uttering
battle shouts, standing steady in defense.

   The head of the sleeper was now completely enfolded by the winding of
the light save where those coals of eyes showed. It might be that the hate
blazing within was what preserved its sight, that it might bring down its
enemies.

   Both arms raised higher, dripping the foul moisture in which it had
been immersed. It tottered on. In Kadiya's hands the sword hung heavy.
All three orbs were now glassily inert.

   A dan flickered out of the air and its point sank deeply into one of those
red eyes. One of the Uisgu behind Kadiya had found a target.

   The creature did not react. Yet the girl was certain that the Oddling
had shot one of the poisoned darts. Perhaps this thing was such poison in
itself that venom could not enter what ran in its veins for blood.

  It lunged. At the same time there came a new sound in that now foul
smelling chamber—a call:

  "By the Blossom—stand!"

    A puff of golden dust burst from behind her. When it reached the gleam
of the amulet, it put forth colored sparks as if it were fashioned from
shards of crystal. A glittering shroud drifted over the awakened sleeper.
The green of the web light waxed until the head and shoulders of the
creature were curtained. Kadiya could no longer see the mad red sparks of
its eyes.

   Its hands smeared down the sides of the other coffer only a palm's
width away from where she had leaned. Kadiya was pulled back against
the support of a tall, strong body. The relief of her escape was so great that
the whole of that dusky chamber whirled. Nausea gripped her and she
fought it, so caught in that struggle to control her body that she was
hardly aware of being lifted, carried out of the putrid air of that place into
the open.

   She blinked up at a cloudless sky, felt the warmth of the sun. Dared
then to turn her head to see who had carried her. He lowered her onto the
stone of the ledge now criss-crossed with black traces of angry fire.

  "Lamaril!" But he had fallen when the weapon of his people had failed…

  "Varm's man?" She turned her head slightly to look.

   On the stone was a wider stain—evil, black, like a shadow in the form of
a man crouched in upon himself, suffering from some great wound.

  Lamaril leaned back against the stone cliff. The door to the sleepers'
chamber was now an open mouth.

   Kadiya raised a shaking hand to her face. She could taste the sweet
stickiness of blood. Her fingers slipped across the smarting wounds the
exploding crystals had made.

   "It is over then?" She was so worn now that it was difficult to shape
either words or thoughts.

   "Varm has no longer any doorways into this land. The old terrors are
laid, Kadiya. The strings which tied the past to the present are broken at
last— which is as it should be. We were remiss in not making an end in
the old days. But it was not in us to slay out of hand those who were our
captives. Better though we had taken blood guilt on us then. Almost he
won. Had it not been for you and those of our creation we would have
failed. To us that is a thing we must always remember. We are not
almighty, victors though we were in the elder days. We are but men and
women with other talents, but we can taste of death and know disaster."

   "The mire lands are safe." She did not make a question of that, rather
held to it as a fact, something which would perhaps be a comfort in days
to come. Why she would need a comfort Kadiya was not sure now—she
was too tired, too overdriven.

   She looked down at the sword. There was blood on her hands where she
had gripped it so tightly that even its dulled edge had been able to cut her
flesh. The eyes were tightly closed. That glitter which had edged the lids
was gone. She could sense a difference through her whole body. The Power
which had come to her summons was exhausted to the full at last—there
was no life left.

   Her hand went to the amulet. Under a touch which left smears of blood
on the breast of her mail the amber was cooled. Lifeless, too? Perhaps.

  She had not Haramis's will for Power. What had been lent to her she
had used as best she could; now it was gone. Kadiya stared dully ahead,
past that smear on the rock which marked the end of Varm's liegeman.
She shivered. The winds which had begun to sweep the ledge were
mountain cold.

  "Where now?" she was asking that of herself more than of him.
   "We go to Yatlan." There was a chill, a kind of withdrawal, in that mind
touch.

  Kadiya remembered what a return to Yatlan would mean. Those she
had summoned out of time would return into timelessness.

  "King's Daughter!"

  Kadiya's head jerked. Jagun was coming toward her. One of his arms
was in a sling across his chest. He limped, one of the Uisgu steadying him.

  "Jagun!" Then a moment later she added, "Smail?"

   The eyes of the hunter blinked. "The healer cares for him. Three of the
Skritek he bore down before the fourth tried to break him against the
rocks. The Drowners fled when the death cry of Varm's minion sounded.
However, few escaped dart and spear as they went."

   "It is well." Against all the will Kadiya could summon her body was
relaxing in a manner she could not understand. Her eyelids seemed
weighted. She could no longer fight this weariness; it was as heavy as one
of the rocks which had rained down into the crevice of the nest.

   Darkness lapped about Kadiya with the soft comfort of sleep robes.
Sighing she surrendered to it, seeking the forgetfulness of healing.

   How long she lay so cocooned the girl did not know, but at length there
pressed upon her a summons she could not elude.

  "Kadiya—" Her name from a far distance, demanding.

  She strove to shut ears and mind against it.

  "Sister!"

  That was too sharp, too close to be denied.

   Where they stood in meeting Kadiya could not tell; perhaps this place
had no existence as she knew reality. Haramis was but a face looming out
of veiling shadows.

  "What has troubled the land?" That demand was peremptory. "It has
been shrouded from my seeing these many days. What has come upon
Ruwenda?"

   "An evil out of time," Kadiya's answer came draggingly; the
overpowering weariness still held her fast. Yet somehow she held on to her
sister's face and knew that Haramis listened.

  The plague, the discovery of that other place where the Vanished Ones
had gone, their return—the trek into the mountains to the battle—all
which had happened in these past days.

   "Lamaril tells me," Kadiya ended, "the land is now cleansed. He and his
will return to that place beyond time."

   Haramis's mouth twisted. "Guardian I was said to be—yet in this I had
no hand."

   Kadiya could almost taste the bitterness she sensed in her sister. More
than Haramis's pride had been bruised; that which she honestly felt for
her land suffered.

   "I do not know why this was given into my hands," Kadiya said wearily.
"I do not hold any great Power." She remembered the burnt-out
appearance of the sword, the vanishing of the fire in her amulet. "Now—I
believe I hold none at all. Perhaps it was that I could reach the Great Ones
the easier. Haramis, I am done with Power—and it is done with me."

   "Be sure, sister," Haramis returned, "that I shall find a means whereby
such will not happen again. Binah knew so much. I have had so little
time"—she paused—"and part of my learning was tainted. Orogastus was
of the Dark and strove to draw me with him."

    "But you did not yield," Kadiya reminded her. "And you are great of
purpose, sister. Lamaril and his people will go—but there will be remnants
of learning in Yatlan. I may not be able to comprehend it, but I shall guard
it until you wish—without Power if that must be."

   Haramis regarded her steadily for a long moment. "Little sister, you are
far greater than you guess. And," now her eyes had the look of one who
foresees, "you shall be more. Until we meet again, dear one."

   Once more the soft dark, the oneness with nothingness which was a rest
for mind and spirit.
   When Kadiya roused again it was not into any place beyond the
boundaries of the real world. She looked up to traceries of greenery
against a clear sky, smelled the scent of fast growing things which follow
the monsoon. She was lying wrapped in reed cloaks within one of the light
craft. Before her, an Uisgu tended the guide reins of a rimorik and they
were speeding along.

  "Noble Lady—"

    Kadiya edged her head around to face the speaker. She still felt as
drained as if she had awakened on a bed where she had fought a dire
illness. Salin was there, with Tostlet.

  "Where are we?"

  "You have been long asleep. Noble Lady. The Great One said that you
must be carefully tended, that we must do all we could, for you gave too
much of your strength to the Power. Now we are riverbound to Yatlan."

   She tried to think. Already riverbound… there was a long trail behind
them then.

   Salin spoke again, softly. "The Sindona of the outer guard—they who
follow Lamaril—have gone as it was set upon them to return to their own
place. Those from Yatlan travel with us. Not all survived the struggle.
King's Daughter. There were five who passed into the Last Flame. For the
Dark One was mighty. Had he awakened the sleepers and brought them
forth, none of us would be alive."

   Lamaril had not died; Kadiya dimly remembered him on that ledge.
But gone… Kadiya knew a strange hunger, not of one who craved food, but
rather as if she sought a missing part of her inner self.

   There had never been one who had filled such an emptiness: she
discovered that now. Her mother, her father, they had had their place in
her life, and she had known grief tinged with rage at their stark deaths.
Haramis: she and her elder sister had had little in common except their
blood; she could not enter into what fueled Haramis's life. Anigel: she felt
again the Faint contempt which had been born of her sister's union with
the son of their enemy. As Queen, Anigel was already buried in a life which
Kadiya would find as confining as a prison. But Anigel had been born to
wear the crown. Jagun? She could not think of days without him—but he
was an Oddling, of another race with thoughts and beliefs of his own into
which she could not enter. Salin? The girl looked now directly at the
wisewoman. Salin was also a friend, and one she hoped she would never
lose.

  But…

   Kadiya settled her head back in the blanket nest. She—would—not—
think— She could not think! To him she would be as an Oddling—as the
Hassitti—a strange creature with no touch of common life. He was already
gone, back to leave his likeness to stand guard on the way to Yatlan.
Already he must have vanished beyond time.

   She fought her battle lying there—fought and knew she could not win.
Wounds healed, but there were scars always left behind. When she had
been with him she had never truly realized this change in herself. It was
only when he had faltered under the attack of the Dark One, when she
believed him gone, that the truth had come upon her, to be strengthened
and rooted deep now as she lay in this craft upon the river.

   Well, she was no weakling; Kadiya believed she had proved that. One
can live even with painful memories. Time passed—and she was caught
again in the flow of time.

   The other Guardians—those of the stairway—were gathered on two
other Uisgu craft which swept along before the one which carried Kadiya.
They made no attempt to speak to her when they camped, keeping to
themselves. She wondered if they were not already half withdrawn back
into their timeless paradise. Nor did she seek out their company, for even
eyeing them made her aware of the ever thickening barrier between them
and the people of the swamp.

   Strength returned. Kadiya ate what the healer urged upon her, listened
to the Uisgu reports of how their clans were now hunting stray Skritek
back to their own noisome territory. Perhaps the Drowners had suffered
such a defeat that they need not be a danger for some time to come. But
that did not mean that scouts and patrols would not prowl along the
borders to check on them. That they would always be a peril, Kadiya
accepted.

   When their party had to leave the boats she was well able to march
cross country. To her inward relief they did not take the road of the
Guardians. She never wanted to look again upon Lamaril's likeness frozen
forever into mud-daubed stone.

   As they entered Yatlan itself the Vanished Ones lengthened stride to a
pace which left the rest of them well behind. They passed along the edge of
the pool quickly, but Kadiya trod determinedly at their heels. Though she
no longer had any touch with them, she felt that she must see the end of
the magic she had been given to work.

    They shed their armor on the steps, leaving it in a tangle as if they had
kicked it aside, unwilling to ever see it again. One of the helms rolled and
fell to the lowest step near Kadiya's feet. The Vanished Ones fitted
themselves into the same stance from which the trillium pollen had
awakened them.

   Then—the life was gone out of them, snuffed as if a lamp had been
blown out. They stood, even as they had for centuries, though they were
nothing but the likeness of those she had seen alive only moments earlier.

   Hassitti scurried about her, swarming in upon the discarded armor,
then trotting off again, carrying bits of it as insects might dismember a
dead thing, stripping it to the bones.

   Kadiya came forward slowly. On each step she turned left and then
right to face the Guardians. She tried to remember names, but some she
had never really heard, those which had kept themselves more aloof from
the Oddlings.

   The blank eyes made her shiver, yet she forced herself to look at each.
Yes, they were gone—all of them—and she was very sure that they would
never return. The world ravaged by their mighty war so long ago was
rebuilding itself in another pattern, one which would mean nothing to
them. She remembered that rich and peaceful land beyond the wall.
Ruwenda had been like that once, but there was no returning, any more
than she could again fit herself into the person of a daughter in her
father's vanished court.

   What she was now, she must discover. Kadiya thought that that was
going to be a long and painful task. She had almost arrogantly claimed the
mires for her own—and thus she took on responsibility. Foresee—Salin had
that Power, a little. Kadiya shook her head. No, where there was no
immediate danger she would not ask foresight from the wisewoman. Let
each day bring what it had to offer and she would meet it as best she
could.

  She slipped the sword from its sheath. There was no life in it. The orbs
were as sealed shut as if they had never been open. This part of her .life
was indeed finished. The amulet hung like a pretty bauble on her breast.
She could see the black trillium within but it had no spark of life-fire.

  Kadiya took off her own helm, left it on the steps. The mail still clothed
her, but the Hassitti would have other clothing more in keeping for one
who was no longer a warrior.

   She crossed between the columns and came step by step down to the
garden. It was beginning dusk—the spark insects were starting to weave
their patterns about the flowers whose heady scent thickened the shadows.

  With the sword in both hands Kadiya once more came to that patch of
barren soil. She raised the blade high enough to give force and drove it
down.

   The fact that it lacked a point did not deter its entrance, the ground
seemed eager to accept it.

  She sat back on her heels waiting. There was a glow, faint at first,
deepening, concealing blade and hilt.

   A flower was being born—such a flower as she had seen in another
place, another time. No black trillium this, but one of gold, completely
encasing the sword. It moved as if some breeze touched it lightly, and
pollen shook free in a rainbow shower.

   Kadiya gasped in awe. And then she stiffened, for there fell a weight on
each of her shoulders. Hands—

   She turned slowly and looked up. He was kneeling, too, but his greater
height made him loom over her.

   "Lamaril!" Her lips, suddenly dry, shaped his name even if she did not
utter it aloud.

    His masking helmet was gone and she could see the whole of his face,
all so plain. Her breath caught almost painfully.
  "But—you are gone!" Kadiya protested.

   He shook his head. "There are always choices given us. I made mine
very willingly. No stream of time shall lie between us, heart planted one.
See"—he had drawn her into his arms and now he turned her gently to
look upon the golden trillium, so firmly rooted—"this is the answer—for us
both. Yatlan is dead, the world it ruled is gone—but many seasons of what
is new lie before us. There is much to be learned, much to be
done—together."

   A breeze gathered up the gem pollen of the trillium and carried it
toward them. Kadiya sighed. The enfolding of those arms about her was
better than any foresight. No—was a foresight!