Authors: Sara Douglass
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Great Britain, #Epic, #Fantasy fiction, #Brutus the Trojan (Legendary character), #Alternative histories (Fiction), #Charles, #Great Britain - History - Civil War; 1642-1649
Warneke led Ariadne and Noah through the Lion Gate and then across the bridge towards Bell Tower and into the Inner Ward. The Tower complex was filled with many buildings: the ancient Norman keep, the White Tower, which dominated the entire site; medieval halls and residences; more recent armouries and storehouses; barracks for troops; galleries and chapels; and a few large open spaces consisting of stretches of green and squares of gravel. Warneke nodded at a long building to their left. “My quarters,” he said, “where you may refresh yourself if desired.”
Noah hesitated, looking to Ariadne for guidance.
“Noah and I have much to talk about,” she said. “We shall walk a while in the grounds, and once we feel the pangs of hunger and thirst we shall sup with you.”
Warneke gave a small bow. “Then I shall return to my duties,” he said, and without further ado walked briskly across the Inner Ward towards a long line of armoury buildings set against the northern wall of the Tower.
“For all the gods’ sakes,” said Noah once Warneke was out of hearing range. “What—”
“He thinks only that you are my kinswoman who has a great curiosity about the Tower. Generously, for he is a generous man, Frederick has agreed that I may show you about the complex from time to time, so long as we stay away from the supply and ordnance stores.”
“And what does he think that
you
are?”
Ariadne smirked. “A fine woman, who contributes more to his life than ever he thought possible.”
Her arm tightened about Noah’s. “Now, come with me, and walk the pathways towards the Great Founding Labyrinth. As you take your first step, accept
that you will never, never be able to go back. You will either succeed on this quest, Noah, or you will die.”
Jane walked across Tower Fields until she came to the scaffold. She paused by the rotten posts, resting her hand on one of them, looking about.
Would the Lord of the Faerie remember?
“Of course, Jane. I have been waiting for this day.”
Jane spun about, and saw the Lord of the Faerie emerge from the other side of the scaffold, a small smile on his face.
“Noah has gone to Ariadne?” the Lord of the Faerie asked.
“Yes. Why did you want me here?” Jane was not particularly surprised to discover he knew about Ariadne.
“Because you need to decide where you will go, Jane.”
You need to decide where you will go
. Jane decided she had never heard a more weighty, doomladen statement.
“What are my choices?” she asked.
“Come with me,” the Lord of the Faerie said, extending his hand to her, “and walk a while.”
Jane reluctantly slid her hand within his.
His fingers entwined with hers. They were surprisingly warm and soft. Jane had been expecting something else. Something hard, perhaps.
She sighed, and allowed the Lord of the Faerie to lead her forwards.
Within a moment she gasped, for Tower Fields abruptly vanished, and she found herself walking among the wild, ancient forests of Llangarlia. The Lord of the Faerie’s hand tightened about hers, but he said nothing, merely leading her further along the forest path.
They walked for some time before Jane became aware that there were creatures darting between the trees, whispering, always keeping themselves just out of sight.
She tensed, and came to an abrupt halt, pulling her hand from that of the Lord of the Faerie. “There is something
else
in the forest,” she said.
“Aye,” said the Lord of the Faerie, “there are other things in the forest.”
“What are they?” Jane said, looking about her.
“Your choices,” said the Lord of the Faerie quietly.
Jane went still, hardly able to breathe. Suddenly she felt very, very afraid. “What do you mean?
What
choices?”
“Jane, do you want to live, or do you want to die?”
Jane opened her mouth, then closed it slowly, staring at the Lord of the Faerie. “I want to live,” she said, her voice low.
“Do you want to live
free
of your past, Jane?”
“I cannot,” she said. “I am trapped, as are we all.”
The Lord of the Faerie shook his head slowly, smiling. “No. It is your choice. Do you want to live, free of your past, and free of all the ambitions that have trapped you?”
Yes!
Jane wanted to scream at him, frightened by the terrible intensity of her emotions.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“There is a price.”
Jane felt her old familiar rage rise within her.
And then, suddenly, strangely, the rage died, leaving her feeling empty and ill. “I have always known there would be a price,” she said.
Again the Lord of the Faerie gave a gentle smile. Once more he took her hand.
“Are you willing to pay the price?” he said.
Jane did not speak for a long time. She was not hesitating as such, merely absorbing all the
implications of the conversation, and thinking that not so very far away Noah was engaged in her own transformation, and Jane did not envy her one whit. She realised that this moment was a gift; one she thought she’d never receive.
“I am willing,” she said.
Somewhere, deep within the forest, something terrible screamed.
“The Great Founding Labyrinth?” Noah said. “But that was on Knossos, and was destroyed when—” She stopped suddenly.
“Really?” said Ariadne softly, and looked very deliberately at the White Tower which rose a little distance away.
Noah gasped in shock. As she had looked, so the White Tower had vanished, replaced by something dark and winding, and so monstrous, so frightening, that she had to look away again immediately.
“The Great Founding Labyrinth can be recreated anywhere, at any time, in any convenient structure,” said Ariadne. “All trained Mistresses of the Labyrinth can do it. It is how the arts of the labyrinth spread so far about the ancient world, for not all Mistresses could be trained on Knossos. When it came time to teach my daughter-heir, my
second
daughter, in Llangarlia, then I used the Meeting Hall on Thorney Island to recreate the Great Founding Labyrinth. Genvissa was taught by her mother in the same manner. Now, the White Tower, which sits directly atop the ancient God Well, serves my purpose better.”
“I cannot look at it,” Noah said softly.
“Not yet, no,” said Ariadne, “for to gaze upon it for any length of time will kill you. But rest easy, Noah, for I shall not call it back until much deeper into your training. Eventually, of course, we shall enter it, and it shall be the site of your Great Ordeal.”
“Great Ordeal?”
“Your final test, my dear, to determine whether or not you have the strength and the courage to become a Mistress.”
Noah dared glance towards the White Tower again, visibly relaxing when she saw that it had resumed its normal aspect. “Others cannot see what you just did?” she said.
Ariadne shook her head. “What you and I do within the Tower complex shall be for our eyes only.” They were walking about the green grassed area to the west of the White Tower, moving towards the chapel. “Now, we can waste no more time, for there is much to be accomplished today. Tell me, if you dare, what you know of the labyrinth.”
“It is a protective enchantment,” Noah said after a moment’s thought. “A magical form which traps evil at its heart, thereby lending protection to the city it is created to safeguard.” She glanced once more to the White Tower.
Ariadne raised her eyebrows. “A perfect textbook explanation,” she said, “if bland and lustreless. Noah, you were literally bred within the labyrinth—at least, your ancient foremother was and you carry her blood in full measure—so now tell me what your heart, your bowels, your
soul
, tell you about the labyrinth.”
She stopped, pulling Noah to a halt, and rested one of her hands flat against Noah’s chest, the touch of her long elegant fingers burning down through the material of Noah’s bodice to her skin.
Noah flinched, but the touch freed something within her. “The labyrinth is powerful and alive and it
throbs
,” she said. “It…it
is
my body!”
Her eyes widened as she said this, and Ariadne laughed, less in amusement than in genuine respect and some measure of relief.
Yes, she had it within
her. A potential so vast that Noah would eventually—not even in some distant future, but soon—wield so much power that…well, that the earth would stop its spinning if she so chose to command it
.
Jane felt more than heard it. Thousands of creatures, converging towards her.
The shrubs beneath the trees quivered, then whipped from side to side, and before Jane could draw a single, shocked breath, she found herself surrounded by tens of thousands of creatures.
Faerie folk, all gazing at her with flat hatred.
“Their recompense is your price, Jane,” said the Lord of the Faerie. “For two lives you have conspired against them, against the land, against the goddess of the waters, and planned and all but executed Og’s murder. You have caused Eaving countless miseries through two lives. You have been a dark, malignant presence in this land, Genvissa-Swanne-Jane, and for this you must pay recompense.”
Suddenly his hand tightened about Jane’s. “Are you still willing to pay the price?” he asked.
No!
she wanted to scream.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”
His hand loosened. “I had not thought you would agree,” the Lord of the Faerie said, and Jane looked at him, moved by the tone of wonder in his voice.
“I am sick of myself,” Jane said.
“That is a terrible thing,” said the Lord of the Faerie. Then he looked up, looked about at all the faerie folk there gathered, and said, “Shall we convene?”
The forest vanished about them.
“Tell me,” said Ariadne as they stood in the centre of Tower Green, just to the west of the White Tower.
“Where do you think the labyrinth lives when it does not loom dark and malevolent before us?”
Noah frowned. She looked away, as if staring at the distant chapel, but Ariadne knew she did not see stone and mortar, but the spaces deep within her own psyche.
“It lives all around us,” Noah eventually said.
“How do you know that?”
Come on, girl. Tell me the ultimate secret!
“The labyrinth is life,” Noah said. “The labyrinth is creation.”
Ariadne’s eyes filled with tears. It had taken her weeks to fathom that secret, weeks of training and meditation and damned, terrifying ordeals.
And here Noah had won it from the thin air, without even stepping inside the Great Founding Labyrinth.
She
had
been born to this.
Ariadne again hooked her arm through Noah’s, turning her to walk once more across the green towards the chapel.
“The labyrinth
is
creation, yes,” she said. The women’s hips rubbed now and again as they walked, and Ariadne revelled in it, the touching and the closeness.
Oh, to have bred such a daughter-heir!
“The labyrinth is the result of the marriage of the stars and the globe, this earth, and of life itself. The labyrinth is reflected in the twistings of our brains and bowels, in the secret passages of our veins, the flow of our blood through our bodies. It mirrors the dance of the stars through the heavens, and the twistings of our own earth through the strange night skies.”
“And the Mistress of the Labyrinth?” Noah said. “How does she manipulate this? How does she gain ascendency over this power? How does she
use
it?”
“Dancing the labyrinth recreates the harmonies of life, Noah. The harmonies of the movement of the
stars, the earth on which we live, the recurring patterns of the seasons and the tides, the twistings of rivers and streams and of the breath through all living things—all of these harmonies thrum through every living being. The ultimate Mistress of the Labyrinth dances the labyrinth, and in so doing, controls all these separate yet entwined harmonies. In controlling them, she manipulates them.”
Ariadne stopped in the shadow of the chapel and eyed Noah carefully. “The greatest Mistress of all, my dear, controls the power of the earth and the stars, of the sun and the moon, of the seasons and tides and the breath and purpose of every living thing. Do you think yourself capable of that?”
Noah responded with her own question. “And you, Ariadne? How much of this did
you
control?”
“A fraction, Noah, but enough to effect the Catastrophe.”
“And Genvissa?”
“A fraction of what I managed.”
Noah took a deep breath, and Ariadne knew that she was thinking through the possibilities…and the responsibilities.
“
Am
I capable, Ariadne?” she said.
“You are born of both myself, the greatest Mistress of the Labyrinth hitherto, and of the creature who lived at the dark heart of the labyrinth. You are, separately, also the goddess of the waters whose very beating heart dictates the cycles of the seasons. I do not think that coincidence. Of all women who have aspired to be the highest among the Mistresses of the Labyrinth, you have the greatest potential. Whether or not you attain that potential is up to your own courage and determination.”
“What does my training consist of, Ariadne?”
“Of learning the dance. Of learning to manipulate the power of the labyrinth, of
creation
, without
allowing it to rope out of control, or to manipulate or control you.”
“And the Game? What part does this play in the power of the labyrinth?”
“The Game is the single way the ancients found to use the power. The original Mistresses and Kingmen learned to use the power of the labyrinth to create the protective enchantment you know as the Game. In your case, the Troy Game.”
“Is the Game only capable of protection and safeguarding?” Noah said.
“No. The Game is as capable of great evil as it is of great good. The Troy Game, which Genvissa and Brutus left unfinished, has roped out of control. It is all of that power I have spoken of, and it is out of control.”
“Gods,” Noah whispered.