Authors: Sara Douglass
Tags: #Fiction, #Imaginary wars and battles, #Brothers, #Stepfamilies, #General
SpikeFeather nodded. “Enchanter, what is it we look for?”
StarDrifter grimaced as pain bit deeply into his chest and had to wait for a few heartbeats before he had the breath to answer. GoldFeather exchanged a worried glance with SpikeFeather.
“A feeder stream, Wing-Leader,” StarDrifter finally replied. “One that enters the Nordra from a cavern, most like. The entrance to the UnderWorld should not be too far away. A league from here the Nordra is hemmed in by the steep cliff faces of the Alps. GoldFeather, you have not seen anything like a stream issuing forth from the path by the Nordra as it flows through the Alps, have you?”
GoldFeather shook her head. “No. There is nothing like that in the Alps themselves. This section of the river I do not know well, I usually strike off to the east as soon as I get out of the Alps.”
“Then fly, Wing-Leader. The entrance cannot be too far. Fly.”
As the Icarii lifted off StarDrifter leaned back against GoldFeather and closed his eyes, relishing the chance to rest.
He did not get to rest long. SpikeFeather dropped down beside them not ten minutes after he had left.
“We’ve found a narrow channel of still water that runs between the river and a wide cavern mouth, fortunately on this side of the riverbank. You were right, Enchanter. None of us would have spotted it from the ground. There is a heavy growth of oldenberry bushes that lies across the channel’s path as it curves into the Nordra. The cavern entrance is hidden by the undergrowth.”
“Will it take us long to walk there, SpikeFeather?”
The Wing-Leader shook his head. “Not more than half an hour, StarDrifter.”
“Good,” StarDrifter grunted as GoldFeather helped him to his feet.
Exactly half an hour later they stood in the cavern by the still water that led to the Nordra. Although the cavern was relatively close, the Icarii warriors had been forced to cut a path for the others through the dense growth of oldenberry bushes that hid the cavern mouth from the river bank. SpikeFeather had been right, no-one wandering along the banks of the Nordra could possibly guess that this cavern existed.
The channel of water leading to the Nordra was no ordinary stream. Its regular banks were carefully lined with stone, and it was a uniform five paces wide its entire length. Once in the cavern the channel widened into a large rectangular pool, lined with massive slabs of grey stone that seemed to have been quarried from the nearby cliff face. The cavern, its entrance only some fifteen paces across, widened and deepened into a spacious chamber, its arching roof at least twenty paces high, and stretching back until the rear of the cavern was lost in darkness.
“Yes,” StarDrifter said as he looked about him. “Yes. I think this is one of the entrances to the UnderWorld. Look!” he suddenly said, excited. Two small flat-bottomed boats were drawn up on a low shelf to one side of the cavern.
GoldFeather walked back a little further into the cavern, then turned to StarDrifter, her handsome face puzzled. “StarDrifter? The pool ends here. The water does not continue any further. How can this be the entrance to the UnderWorld?”
StarDrifter smiled and hobbled over to her as gracefully as his injuries would allow. “My love. The UnderWorld exists far below us. Not even the Charonites, magical sprites that they are, can make water flow upwards. They build stairs to the OverWorld which they climb whenever they feel the urge to feel once more the night air on their faces. Let us look.”
SpikeFeather found several brands on the low shelf that held the boats. He lit them from his tinderbox and handed them to his command as they walked into the darkness of the cavern. The even stone floor continued smooth and surprisingly dustless for some fifty paces, then ended abruptly in a flat stone wall. Azhure, walking with Raum, turned and looked at him anxiously, but he only smiled and took her arm. “It is not for nothing that StarDrifter is accounted one of the strongest Enchanters the Icarii have bred for generations. Watch.”
StarDrifter motioned the group to stay well behind him and then moved stiffly over to the stone wall, holding a flaming brand in one hand for light. For some time he moved slowly down its length, running his hand over the wall, his face frowning in concentration; he even extended the wing closest to the wall, running the tips of its feathers gently over the surface of the rock, the sound almost like the rustle of a silken gown.
Slightly to one side of the centre of the wall he stopped, tapped the wall gently with his fingers, then turned his head to smile at the group watching him. In the leaping shadows thrown by the brand his face had a slightly rakish look about it, almost mischievous, like a small boy about to play a particularly satisfying prank.
“Here, I think. The Charonites hide their handiwork well, but not so well as to fool this Icarii Enchanter.”
He turned back to the wall, humming softly, his fingers tapping in time against the stone. “Yes, yes, yes,” he whispered suddenly, excitedly, “that’s it, that’s it!” StarDrifter’s voice became louder,
stronger, and now he added the occasional word into the music he was humming. It was a strange tune, compelling, the tune whirling round and round the cavern.
Abruptly StarDrifter stopped singing, closed his fist and struck the stone wall as hard as he could.
“
Ecrez dontai Charon
!” he cried, and the entire wall shattered beneath his fist. He leapt out of the way, his wings fluttering uselessly, but he was caught in a shower of stone fragments.
GoldFeather and SpikeFeather rushed to his aid. He was covered from head to toe in fine grey dust, the only colour the pale but intense blue of his eyes and the small trails of blood that seeped from his wounds where he had torn them in the fall to the floor. But StarDrifter shook himself free from GoldFeather and SpikeFeather’s hands, still grinning as excitedly as a small boy. “Look!” he cried, turning back to what the crumbling wall revealed.
Instead of a bare grey stone wall there now stood a screen carved out of translucent white marble into a delicate tracery of lace. It looked as thin as a child’s finger, and was supported by delicate pillars rising to the roof. The incredibly fine and detailed carving of the tracery revealed a pattern of women and children dancing in long transparent robes. Such craftsmanship had gone into the carving of the screen that Azhure could almost see the marble figures move. In the centre of the delicate wall was a wide pointed arch of golden marble about a closed bronze door.
StarDrifter shook his wings free of as much dust as he could and brushed the rest from his body. He seemed almost revitalised instead of tired by his exertions. He took GoldFeather’s hand and smiled at her. “I remember that once I promised to show you wonders, my love. Take my hand and become the first of your race to walk through the door to the UnderWorld. Come.”
StarDrifter turned to the bronze door and gently pushed with his hand. It yielded instantly, and he and GoldFeather walked through. SpikeFeather hurried his warriors after them while Azhure and Raum turned to help the other wounded Icarii into the entrance to the UnderWorld.
B
eyond the bronze doorway the group found themselves in a massive circular well with a beautiful patterned translucent pink marble staircase winding around the wall of the well to depths unseen; a waist-high railing guarded against any unwary step. Azhure paused to gaze about her as StarDrifter led GoldFeather down the first of the steps—the craftsmanship of the well was extraordinary. StarDrifter saw her staring at the wall carvings. “Come Azhure. We have a long way to go.”
Slowly they descended, the members of the Wing assisting Azhure and Raum with the injured. But the stairs were wide, the gradient gentle and the footing firm so that even the more severely injured among the Icarii could negotiate the steps relatively easily. After an hour or so StarDrifter started to talk softly, his words carrying easily to those who brought up the rear, sharing what he had been told of the Charonites.
“The Charonites and the Icarii are a related people, both born of the Enchantress.”
“The Enchantress?” Azhure asked.
“The original Enchanter, Azhure, who discovered the power of the Star Dance,” said StarDrifter. “Charonites and Icarii revere her as the founder of their races. As others should.”
What did that cryptic remark mean? Azhure thought, but she bit down her question. She would ask GoldFeather later.
“The Charonites were always a reclusive people,” StarDrifter continued, “inward rather than outward looking. Preferring the depths rather than the heights. Casting their eyes downward rather than upward. They claimed they gave up their wings because they no longer craved the feel of the thermals beneath them.” StarDrifter paused, unable to believe that any would want to give up the thrill of the soar. “I know that some say the Icarii are too mystical, and a little arrogant.” He looked quickly at GoldFeather, and although she kept her face impassive her eyes twinkled, “but we are nothing compared to the Charonites. Well over thirteen thousand years ago they descended to the depths, saying they preferred to explore the inner space rather than the outer, and over the millennia they explored and settled the waterways of the UnderWorld. It is said that the waterways not only stretch beneath all of what Tencendor used to cover but under the oceans as well.” He shrugged. “Perhaps the waterways touch other worlds as well.”
For some time there was silence as everyone pondered the Charonites and their waterways, wondering about the secrets the Charonites must know.
“Few know of the existence of these people,” StarDrifter continued eventually. “Gorgrael himself may not know of them.” He paused again, thinking deeply. “Legend tells us that in the centre of this UnderWorld is a cavern with a crystal roof over a mirrored lake, the source for the magical lakes of Tencendor. From this lake radiate the waterways of the UnderWorld upon which the Charonites ply their ferries, seeking the answers to mysteries. I am hoping that there will be a waterway that stretches from here to the roots of Talon Spike, and I am hoping that the Charonites will agree to ferry us there, although what price they might ask in payment I don’t know.”
“Price?” PreenDeep, one of the injured Icarii, asked.
“It is said that the Charonites always demand payment, but that could simply be because Icarii speak of them with no small disdain for choosing the UnderWorld rather than the limitless freedoms of the skies.”
For a long time after that there was no sound but for the soft shuffle of boots down the pink stairs. Eventually StarDrifter, glancing behind him, called a quick rest. As they settled down, SpikeFeather leaned forward. This talk of their lost cousins fascinated him.
“Why have the races lost contact, StarDrifter? I would have thought that each had many things they could teach the other. And besides, as you said, we are related.”
“There was some coolness,” said StarDrifter reluctantly.
“Coolness?”
StarDrifter wished SpikeFeather had never asked this question, but now all the Icarii looked at him curiously, and if he refused to answer then the question would simply fester in their minds.
“The Charonites claimed that one of our Enchanter-Talons treated them cruelly.”
“Which one?” SpikeFeather asked innocently, and StarDrifter mentally cursed him.
“The ninth,” he said shortly and stared at SpikeFeather with cold eyes.
Azhure, who had been rebandaging one of the Icarii warriors’ wounds, looked up at the sudden silence. Every one of the Icarii sat stiffly, their faces frozen. What had happened? Even GoldFeather’s eyes were cast down.
“Oh,” SpikeFeather said, then stood up. “Have we rested enough?”
They climbed down in silence now, StarDrifter refusing to say any more about the Charonites. As they trod lower and lower a soft wind blew in their faces, and Azhure paused to lean over the balustrade to peer into the depths of the well. Warm wind rushed upwards, tugging at the pins holding her hair in place.
“StarDrifter!” she cried in amazement, delighting in the feel of the warm air upon her face. “What is that?”
“That is the breath of the world, Azhure. Every second day the world inhales, every other day it exhales. Today, apparently, it exhales.” A pity he thought, a tail wind would have been nice. “All of
these wells—there are many of them about the land that was Tencendor—are breathing vents for the world. I do not know if the Charonites built them, or merely built these staircases into fissures that already existed.”
Soon everyone could feel the warm wind. It had a wonderful fragrance, like warm spices freshly picked and left to dry in the sun, and it grew stronger as they neared the foot of the stairs.
“How far have we come?” GoldFeather asked as they finally stepped out onto a flat grey stone floor.
“Who knows? But we have reached one of the outer waterways.”
Azhure looked about her. They were in a wide cavern, walled and domed in smooth stone as grey as the floor. She heard the gurgle of water and walked some few paces towards the centre of the cavern. “Ah!” she breathed in wonder. A river flowed gently through a wide channel, entering the cavern through an arch on one side, and exiting through another arch on the far side. It was perhaps ten paces wide, and the edges were marked with translucent white stone so that visitors should not step unwarily into the water.
The water glowed a deep emerald in colour, and in its depths Azhure could see bright sparkles she was unable to define. She peered more closely, trying to work out what they were, before feeling a gentle hand on her shoulder. StarDrifter had stepped up to stand close to her, his eyes fixed on the water, his own expression one of awe. “The Charonites have not left the Stars behind them, after all,” he said softly. “Look, they glow in the depths of the water.”
StarDrifter was right. Stars glowed deep within the emerald water and impulsively she reached down to the water.
“No!” StarDrifter caught her hand in his own. “Do not touch the water. I do not know what it will do to you.”
“And now?” SpikeFeather asked quietly as he joined them. “Now what?”
“Why, we summon the Ferryman, SpikeFeather!” StarDrifter pointed to one side. A large golden bell hung at shoulder height from a golden tripod. StarDrifter walked over, hesitated a moment, then struck it with his fingertips.
A clear chime rang out, once, twice and then a third time. Then the bell fell silent.
“And now we wait for the Ferryman to arrive,” StarDrifter said to the others.
As they waited, most succumbed to weariness and sat on the floor, some of the injured stretched out asleep. Azhure and Raum did what they could for them, then Raum forced a nervously excited StarDrifter to sit down while he and Azhure tended his wounds. Raum and Azhure carefully cleaned his lacerations with some water they had carried down with them, wiped the clean wounds with an astringent lotion that even made StarDrifter forget who he was and what he waited for, restitched two of the wounds that needed it, making the Enchanter curse, and finally dusted all of StarDrifter’s injuries with the herbs and healing powders Barsarbe had given Azhure.
“There,” Azhure smiled at StarDrifter’s wan face. “Presentable.”
“Thank you very much,” StarDrifter managed to say, the sting of the restitching and the astringent fading.
“StarDrifter!” SpikeFeather’s tense voice called. “Something comes!”
Raum helped StarDrifter to his feet and they moved to the water’s edge. Deep inside one of the tunnels carrying the waterway into the cavern they could see a light bobbing.
“The Ferryman,” StarDrifter whispered. “Finally, after thousands of years, we are to meet our lost brethren again.”
Azhure felt a little apprehensive, and as she gazed at StarDrifter’s exhilarated face she hoped the Charonites would feel as excited about the reunion as the Icarii Enchanter obviously did. She looked back to the tunnel entrance.
A large flat-bottomed boat slowly emerged into the cavern, approaching the huddled group without any obvious means of propulsion, a deeply hooded figure seated at the stern with his hands folded in his lap. As the boat reached them it stopped.
“Who summons the Ferryman?” a gruff voice asked from beneath the hood of the ruby-red cloak. “Who rings the bell?”
StarDrifter stepped forward and bowed to the figure, trying unsuccessfully to see beneath the hood as he did so. “I, StarDrifter SunSoar, Icarii Enchanter, summon you, Ferryman. May the Sentinels one day return safe to their home.”
The figure sat totally unmoved by the Enchanter’s words. StarDrifter grew uneasy as the Charonite remained silent. He fought to keep from fidgeting, and instead stood tall, his spread wings drooping to the floor behind him in the traditional Icarii gesture of goodwill. Perhaps the Charonites had forgotten such polite gestures, StarDrifter mused, wondering if he should say anything more.
Finally the Ferryman spoke. “The Sentinels have forsaken their home forever, Enchanter. Have you not understood the Prophecy?”
By the Stars! StarDrifter thought bleakly, I was simply trying to be polite! “The Sentinels walk abroad now that the Prophecy has awoken,” he said, wondering if the Charonites yet knew that the Prophecy itself walked. “Who knows how the Prophecy will turn. Perhaps the Sentinels will return to their home, in one form or another.”
“You have a smooth tongue, Enchanter. Perhaps too smooth if it got you Gorgrael.”
StarDrifter’s face hardened. The Charonites knew too much. “Then you also know what else it got me.”
The Ferryman stood up, slowly unfolding what turned out to be an extremely tall frame, and bowed to GoldFeather as she stood slightly behind StarDrifter. “Greetings, Rivkah. I hope the Enchanter’s arrogance will have been tempered by your humanity in your son.”
GoldFeather smiled and inclined her head. “Greetings, Ferryman. I am ashamed that until this day I did not know what mysteries lay beneath my feet. I will strive to learn more so that my ignorance may not embarrass me again.”
The Ferryman was pleased by her smile and her gracefulness. The Charonites had always been niggled by Icarii arrogance. He lifted pale age-spotted hands and drew the material of the cloak back from his head and down over his shoulders. The Ferryman’s bald skull and
cadaverous face bespoke great age, yet the resemblance to the Icarii shone through in the tilt of the eyes, the high cheekbones and the narrow nose. His eyes, however, belied his otherwise ancient appearance. They shone as lustrous and bright as those of a child, innocuous pools of violet in his desiccated face.
“You speak well, Rivkah,” the Ferryman said, “for a member of those people who have forgotten the joy of the mysteries.” Then, surprising all who watched, he turned and bowed deeply to Azhure, his hands covering his heart. “You are welcomed, Sacred Daughter and Mother of Nations,” he said in tones of deep reverence. “Find peace.” For long moments he stayed bowed in obeisance to Azhure. StarDrifter turned and gazed at her in amazement.
Startled, Azhure stared at the Ferryman. She recovered quickly however, noting how the Ferryman had responded to GoldFeather’s gracious words. “I stand with Rivkah in shame that I have not previously recognised your mysteries,” she said with a dignity her companions had not seen in her before. “Find peace, Ferryman.” Sacred Daughter? Mother of Nations? she thought. What did he mean?
I speak of a time both before and beyond the Prophecy,
the Ferryman’s voice whispered in her mind as he raised himself from his bow, and Azhure only just managed to stop herself from rocking on her feet with surprise.
The Ferryman turned to StarDrifter. “Because of these two women who accompany you,” he said softly, “the Ferryman asks no price. Where do you wish to go?”
“Talon Spike,” said StarDrifter and then couldn’t resist asking, “what is your usual price?”
The Ferryman stood back and gestured for GoldFeather and Azhure to step into the boat first. His eyes flickered to StarDrifter. “The normal price is a life, Enchanter. The greatest mystery of all.” He paused and a merciless smile lit his face. “Who would you have picked to pay it?”
StarDrifter’s face paled. Who
would
he have picked?
They loaded quickly, the flat-bottomed boat easily holding them all in comfort. They sank down on thin cushions, the Ferryman seating GoldFeather and Azhure on either side of him in the stern of the boat. Neither woman could see any means of steering or propulsion, but as the Ferryman folded his hands serenely in his lap, the hood remaining draped over his shoulders, the boat moved smoothly forward.
For a long time there was silence. The Ferryman’s words regarding the price of passage had shocked them all, as did his obvious reverence for the two women, especially Azhure. Icarii pride was pricked. With them travelled one of their greatest Enchanters, someone towards whom the Ferryman should have been more respectful, and yet he seemed to prefer the two Groundwalker women. SpikeFeather’s curiosity about Azhure increased.
They travelled through tunnels whose roofs only cleared the Ferryman’s head by a handspan. Both walls and roofs were of the pale stone lining the walls of the wells, and light was given off by the emerald glow of the water. After a while Azhure shifted a little in her seat and said quietly, “May I speak with you, Ferryman?”