Climber, his rich coat shining like a jewel (though I could see no source of luminesce save the talisman), flowed about the dais to stand beside the Protector. He turned great golden eyes upon me.
"Sorceress." A Send, that, yet none of Zolan's projecting.
For a moment I thought I could see features form in scant lines on the ball-head.
"I am no sorceress," I returned, keeping my voice as barren of feeling as I could. "I am of the House of Scorpy and am Talented as their women are."
Ball Head considered my answer; then she surprised me utterly with a second mind-message.
"In the Name of Varch, Keeper of the Gate-begone!"
That order held no meaning for me, though the name she called upon stabbed like a dagger-thrust of Darkness. Zolan stirred, looking to the enthroned one as if he would protest.
I offered no attack in return for, above all, I needed to know know, to assess what had entrapped me.
Another period of silence ensued; then came yet a third Send. I was instantly on guard. The message was foreign to what I knew and trusted. It did not translate into words but strove to place me again under compulsion.
I moved the gem from my lips to my forehead. All my life I had been aware of those points of my person upon which a Ward must be locked.
The protection I wore had been battered and thinned by whatever Maclan had used to take me, but it was still in place. Now it swelled, strengthened, and I was shielded as if by a battle lord's body-armor.
The Send was ended. After a moment, Zolan moved a step or two away from the dais and turned fully to face me, his hands up a little as if he protested.
"Pharsali means no harm." He spoke soothingly as he might to a child. "Great evil has been done here. Those of your kind ravaged, killed. And before that-" He glanced over his shoulder to the seated figure as if asking permission.
"Before that," he began again, "Another made a pact with the Dark, which threatens not only Those Waiting but your own kin."
He paused for an answer.
"I am listening," I replied tersely.
So he served as a voice for the faceless thing baked of clay, and listen I did.
What I heard then was as mystifying as a tale translated from a strange tongue, dealing with a life whose like was hard for my breed to imagine. Still, that the account was accepted as truth by both Pharsali and Zolan I understood. The truth-as they knew it.
So long ago that my people had not yet come into this land-so far back, indeed, that they even preceded the small dark ones who came before us-this race, who carefully preserved their remains in creations of their hands, traveled by some unexplained means hither. When I learned this, I wondered whether they might have come from one of the other layers of existence, which we of the Power are aware of but do not try to visit.
The Jar Folk were in flight from enemies of their own kind, for there was a system of belief rising among them that many of the people, including those who came to dwell in the Dismals, thought to be evil. At the death of their physical forms, their personalities could continue to exist; among them, however, had been born a cult teaching that, if they wished, they might take over another body. At least one subject race was available that could be used to supply new vessels of life.
Thus arose conflict and the dispersal of many of their clans or nations. How this particular group had come to the Dismals was not revealed.
Once in this below-the-surface world, they discovered that theirs had been a bad choice. Fatal plagues struck, and thus was created the company of Seated Ones. However, the portions of being that were their essences remained. They strove to enhance their Power until they were able to venture out in spirit to explore, to learn. With this mode of existence most were content. Centuries passed, and the Jar People watched with interest as the native life of the upper world changed. They themselves continued to live by their oaths, observing only, and taking no hand in affairs not their own.
Until-Zolan, before my eyes, cringed as though a feeling of guilt had dealt him a pang.
Until our host's own arrival, an event whose occurrence he could not recall. His memory ran no further back than his being in this same cave while Pharsali had soothed him and taught him how to survive, for he had been a small child.
All the alien folk, but especially the Jar female, had instructed as well as guided him. But Tharn-Zolan nodded toward the empty bench that shared the dais with that of the round-headed one. He stopped short, and his hands clenched, then opened again.
Tharn, who was co-leader of the Jar People, made an evil choice. When Zolan became a young man, Tharn decided that he himself would leave the Dismals and visit the outer world. He tried to force his spirit into the boy's body and was defeated; however, neither could he be destroyed, and save for setting fresh Wards upon him, his own folk could not control him. His will was strong; he waited.
Then his questing spirit discovered another Uplander, a near-insane hermit. By dreams, the Jar leader drew the man to him and transferred into his chosen vessel before the others could prevent it.
At that time, Pharsali had joined temporarily with Zolan to spy out some disturbances in the far reaches of the Dismals where an entrance might exist that those above could use to descend-an event the Jar People had long feared as they had watched the actions of the natives. However, their ability to explore in spirit-essence was sharply limited. Pharsali, whose power was equal to Tharn's, could range no farther than the rest. The body carrying Tharn soon passed out of reach.
Before the twisted leader, in the body of the hermit, had departed, he had destroyed those of the outer cave, thereby making sure that he need no longer fear their interference. For, evicted from their "bodies," they had no power to oppose him.
Thus Zolan had become Pharsali's only hope of preventing an evil fate for those above. The destroyed jars I had seen held only a portion of the group that had immigrated to our world. And among the others waited those who shared Tharn's desire for a new body and a life in the upper lands. Though Zolan was wholly of Pharsali's training, even he could not be dispatched above to follow the Dark Mage, since Tharn's far greater Power could find him only too easily.
Now my thoughts struck through to Pharsali. I was aware of the touch of the alien female, but it did not threaten.
"This hermit-Tharn, as you name him-has won the interest of the king, is a member of the court. He has gathered more than one kind of Power to wield."
The Protector and Pharsali were both silent for a long moment. At last came a Send from the Jar woman, not any communication from Zolan.
"We sensed you and yours early when you were brought here as captives. We knew that you were unlike those who came seeking treasure; Tharn sent one party to so indulge its greed, but the land itself rose in defense."
"Thus," my Send interrupted her, "we were brought here by your your will! You also made sure that we were removed from the aid coming after us." will! You also made sure that we were removed from the aid coming after us."
"You would have died!" Zolan broke in heatedly. "That offspring of a vorpe had a dagger ready for your throats and would have wielded it, had it not been suggested to him by Power that he entrust you instead into the- care-of this land."
I licked my lips. So we had had been a part of another's schemes all along. I no longer doubted at all that the favor of our fortune rested with the Ball Head. Nor could I deny that Maclan would have found it far less trouble to have us dead. But worse fates existed than death. I thought that I could guess what was coming next. been a part of another's schemes all along. I no longer doubted at all that the favor of our fortune rested with the Ball Head. Nor could I deny that Maclan would have found it far less trouble to have us dead. But worse fates existed than death. I thought that I could guess what was coming next.
"You want my body, so you can hunt down this traitor of yours!"
Ball Head remained silent, but I had aroused Zolan to action. He moved between me and the creature on the dais as if to protect her from me. Even as I had felt that emotion in the cave of breakage, so now I could sense rage rising in him, tightly controlled but growing ever stronger as his eyes met mine.
Once again, as in that place, the heat of his anger appeared subject to the Jar woman. She might have curbed a hound slavering for a kill.
"Not so!"
The Send was not abrasive, as it might have been, yet it still gave me an odd feeling of guilt, and I hurried to strengthen my my anger by remembering all that had occurred to us since we had come into the Dismals. I no longer needed evidence-I knew. We had been tried as a warrior tries an unknown blade before going into battle, a rider puts a horse through paces before adding it to his stable. anger by remembering all that had occurred to us since we had come into the Dismals. I no longer needed evidence-I knew. We had been tried as a warrior tries an unknown blade before going into battle, a rider puts a horse through paces before adding it to his stable.
"Do we have a choice?" I had followed that thought to the final question.
"Wait to see what we shall ask of you. You have declared that you three are daughters of a leader of forces above. Should he not be warned?"
This Pharsali was clever to tug the thread of feeling that awakened our sense of duty. If all I had heard here was the truth-and the Talent judged it so-then, indeed, the Lord Warden must learn what the Dark threatened.
"Can you open the way out for us?"
Ball Head did not nod, but in a way I half thought I saw that movement from the faceless female.
"For you-and for him." There was no pointing at Zolan, yet plainly he was the one she meant.
Now he spun halfway around, his body stiffly tense, to face her fully. I sensed no eagerness in him for such a venture but felt, instead, a speedy denial.
Ignoring him, she continued. "Our fosterling now needs those who will care for him in your world, even as we have tended him in this. You will be his guides, as he has led you in this place of our exile."
She spoke the bald truth. Should Zolan appear in the land above without any companion or aid, he could well be deemed defective in mind, or even demonic in those places where Tharn now wore a stolen body.
"I would see my sisters," I Sent back. "I do not speak alone." However, my mind was already busy trying to look ahead at what might await us in our own level of the world.
Drucilla
Bina was going to do it! I bit at my knuckles as I watched her. So many times I had observed her busied so, ready to hand her this or that ingredient as she asked for it. But this-this mass of green and red, which had grown out of the earth I had drawn upon-this was a thing of death, a growth no healer should touch.
I glanced from Bina to the wall, grayish in the moonlight. Tam-Tam had passed through that barrier as if it did not exist. Tam Tam-? I Sent, to be met with a silence much deeper than any my sister had ever raised. Tam possessed, Tam held by the conniving of an unknown Other! I realized that a little of what peril the future held was a loss of our sister. The rending away of an arm or leg would be far less crippling to us.
Bina straightened, her hands now holding a sap-wet mass of flower and stem crushed together. For a moment she simply sat looking at the wall. Then she raised her right hand to her lips and mouthed a small amount, at the same time silently holding out the mess to me.
I shrank from what I must do. But without Tam, without Bina, I would be as lost, as lifeless, as a leaf whirled away by an autumn wind.
Scooping out a laden fingerful of the mixture, I chewed it hesitantly. The taste was sharp as relish used on the meat of midwinter to cover evidence of age, but it was not unpleasant. I swallowed.
I kept my eyes on the cliff while Bina and I knit threads of Power together. Never had it come so easily without effort. That facility gave me a heady feeling-why had I hesitated? This Power-to hold it-to make it work for my purpose-this was always meant to be meant to be!
Suddenly we were standing before the face of the cliff-I was not aware that I had even risen. Power-Bina was one with me, and I did not hold back. Now the entwined cord of our Talent, throbbing in rhythm with the beating of my heart, was hurled at the rock to cling and crawl, a visibly gleaming thread against what seemed solid stone.
This was what I was intended for. Why had I been denied such inner strength? That rock-one moment it was intact, the next it had vanished. A portal, filled with darkness that appeared to churn, waited before us. We took the way that had opened before us.
No light shone here. We went forward with care, my left hand in Bina's right, our unengaged fingers slipping along each wall. The faint radiance from outside lasted no more than four or five paces. No sound broke the silence.
"No." Bina stopped, held me anchored. I could feel each of her motions now by the smallest displacement of air. Our senses were keener, clearer.
Then Bina lifted up a questing hand, and a short burst of blue radiance broke forth. From her fingertips the light spread until she might have been holding five short candles.
Sabina
I was constrained to call up a measure of Power, since we could not go blindfolded into this place. However, the force I summoned was not for slaying, and I kept it at the lowest use of energy I could. Thus, when we saw death lying at our feet a little later, we were able to avoid those poor remains, and when we won into the place of breaking, we made no misstep. Here our pace was like striving to walk against a heavy current, so often did we stagger, fighting for every step we won forward.
Fear, and, stronger still, rage-those emotions tore at us as if they would feed upon our bodies. We felt the quiver of our Wards, for those barriers had not been set to contend with such forces as this.
We saw another door to the chamber, and we headed towards it. I felt a greater impact of Power. Determined not to waste any of my own strength, I allowed the glory-glow I had summoned to die. However, there was illumination ahead-not the blue fire we knew but rather a yellowish glow such as might mark weak sunlight.
Thus we went on and came into another chamber. Within that room stood Tam, unmarked, appearing as we had seen her always when preparing to face some trial of strength or courage. Fronting her was Zolan, Climber close by his knee, and behind him a dais supporting two familiar benches. Only one was occupied by a clay figure, a statue with a round head.
Before we could Send, a message came-not from Tam, who held her jewel before her, and not from Zolan. It was alien, like a piece of writing from some foreign land, requiring all one's wits to make sense of it.
"Welcome to you, Lady Sabina, Lady Drucilla. As has the Lady Tamara, you have proven your Talent."
"Did I not say"-Tam's Send came at once-"that we three are as one? Certainly if I won here, then they would come also. It is their turn now to hear what you would have of us."
Again, that Send, which became clearer and clearer the longer we received it, gave the history of the Jar People (so we have come to call them, as their name for themselves was never told us). At the same time we understood what this Pharsali would have of us. As we compared it to what we already knew, it made sense.
We were offered escape from the Dismals, for, in spite of all Zolan had reported, there was was a way out. Then we would be in Gurlyon again. I did not use Send, rather open speech, to raise protest. a way out. Then we would be in Gurlyon again. I did not use Send, rather open speech, to raise protest.
"When we reach the Upper Land, we shall be in a place which has been disputed many times over. However, we are weaponless, and clothing such as ours could bring trouble from any who sight us." My jerkin and trousers did not seem strange to me here, but I could foresee how any rider coming upon us, whether Breaksword or a follower sworn to some reiver lord, would straightway take us into custody. Unless our newly strengthened Power could be a defense? But, long ago, we had sworn an unbreakable oath against using our Talent for that purpose. Sword, snaplock and the weapons of human time and place could be used, not those of the Power- except against Dark Ones.
Both Tam and Cilla assented to that Send aimed impartially at the two before us. Where could we possibly find what we must have: clothing and accoutrements that would arouse no unwanted interest?
"Those who descended to our world to reap and ravage"-again the alien Send, hot with the same intensity of emotion we had encountered in the chamber of destruction-"stayed for a space. They came laden, for they had been raiding above, and what they had taken still lies in their old camp. It may serve."
I wondered. If it were true that we had been drawn to the Dismals by the will of Ball Head, then perhaps others had been similarly beckoned to this place. But why and how would Breakswords be summoned to plunder and destroy? If this Pharsali could read minds-and I was sure that she could, for as I framed the thought I had felt a discernible touch against my inward shield-then she was not going to give any answer to my suspicion.
So it remained that Zolan was to be sent into the Upper Lands under our guidance and care. Breakswords and Border raidings aside, that challenge should be trouble enough! I did not look forward to such a journey with complete confidence, either in the actions of the three of us, or his reaction to Gurlyon.
Seventeen.
Sabina
Those who had come seeking the "treasure" of the Dismals had not attempted to conceal the entrance they had discovered. Though when they had returned to that site, they had found no exit to use. Rotting rope lay in coils at the foot of the cliff, but how the Dismal-dwellers had betrayed the invaders could not be discerned.
Bones, a pile of rusted metal breastplates, and several dented steel bonnets lay with the tangled rope. These grisly trophies lay heaped about another object-a long, hook-ended stick of a nonhuman limb, which stood in their midst as if to mark a field of defeat. If one surveyed the scene more closely, the marks of attack by monsters were clearly visible.
We had no desire to put name to any of the slain Breakswords and for the present we avoided the battlefield. However, as one, we turned on Zolan. We had been promised a campsite for the plundering, but nothing lying here was of value to us.
Tam, however, suddenly left my side and made for the heap of gear on the ground, then swooped, as a hawk stoops on her prey, to arise with a sword in her hand. The blade was dulled but intact.
Our host was only moments behind her. He had found a snaplock, but that was unusable, the damp having rendered it so. Hurling it to one side, he pushed a little farther into the pile. Though he found another sword, it was also useless-the blade ended a short length beyond the hilt in a jagged break.