Faces of Deception (34 page)

Yago frowned, and Atreus ascended the staircase while the ogre was still trying to puzzle out the question. The Dweller raised its tentacles and cocked its head, its dark scarlet eyes growing steadily dimmer as Atreus climbed out of the pool’s brilliant aura. He averted his own glance and was careful not to lock gazes with the monster. When the trio of scarlet eyes finally faded to nothingness, the creature let out one of its low belly rumbles and splashed its tentacles back into the water.

Atreus found himself standing alone at the entrance to what appeared to be a narrow, vaulted temple. Down each side ran a low meditation platform covered in the mouldering remains of folded carpets. On the walls hung tatters of silken tapestries whose patterns and colors had long ago vanished into dust and mildew. The shining stream ran straight up the aisle between the meditation platforms, narrowing in the distance until it finally vanished into the darkness.

“Atreus?” called Seema. For the first time since leaving her hut, there was genuine concern in her voice. “Is everything well?”

“It’s fine. Come up.”

His companions emerged from the cloudy aura one after the other, each entering the strange vault in awestricken silence. Once they had gathered, Atreus quietly led the way up the aisle. A low murmur began to resonate in the back of his mind, growing more noticeable as they progressed. It was not a sound, but rather the perception of a sound, an echo that reverberated inside his head without passing through his ears.

The murmur became a rhythmic growl, then a deep, guttural chant, and finally an eerie pulsing roar as mesmerizing as it was maddening. Atreus looked back and found Yago and Rishi staring wide-eyed at the dark walls.

“You hear it too?”

Though Atreus had intended to speak only loud enough to make himself understood, his voice rang through the silent temple like a thunderclap.

Both Yago and Rishi nodded nervously.

“It says, ‘Luck and Happiness to all creatures. May the Serene Ones spread their grace over the world,’” explained Seema. “The ancient monks filled the stones with their voices, and now the walls are ringing their chants back to us.”

“The walls?” grumbled Yago. “It sounds like ghosts.”

Seema whirled on the ogre. “You mustn’t say such things,” she said. “Not here!”

Yago’s orange cheeks darkened. “Sorry,” the ogre apologized. “I didn’t know they was listening.”

Atreus led the way down the aisle. The chanting continued to swell, but as they grew accustomed to it, it became almost calming. They soon found themselves droning along, “Omna lo renege ge suun, song tse ngampo ge lung pa… omna lo renege ge suun, song tse ngampo ge lung pa…”

The chant seemed to free their minds from all awareness of time and space, so they were all taken by surprise when the sparkling stream suddenly narrowed and became a fan-shaped cascade spilling down yet another stone stairway.

For a moment, Atreus just stood there, too mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm inside his head to realize what he was seeing. His gaze began to rise, following the stream up a long series of steps to the summit of a pyramidal dais.

On top sat a pair of golden yaks, kneeling across from each other and facing a great alabaster altar inlaid with a thousand-spoked wheel of gleaming silver. At one end of the altar sat three elegant vessels: a bronze brazier with incense smoke still rising from its heart, a glass butter lamp with a tiny flame still flickering on its wick, and a jade vase with a single hibiscus blossom still rising from its mouth. At the other end sat three plain objects: a loaf of steaming rice-bread, a tin caster filled with fresh cinnamon, and a sandal-wood lute still resonating from the touch of its last player.

In the center of the altar, resting on its side between the two groups of sacred objects, lay what Atreus had come so far to find, a platinum cup rimmed in sapphires and rubies, from whose mouth spilled a perpetual stream of glittering silver water.

Rishi clutched Atreus’s arm and whispered, “Good sir, your wisdom and faith are the measure of all men!” The Mar glanced over his shoulder. “If I may suggest a small precaution, we should see to Seema with every haste.”

Atreus tore his eyes from the altar and scowled down at Rishi and said, “See to her?”

Rishi winced, then held a finger to his lips. “Quietly, good sir,” he cautioned. “I am sure it will only take one scream, and then the Dweller will come running.”

Atreus glanced back at Seema, who was standing at the base of the dais as awestruck as he. “Why would she do that?” he asked.

Rishi raised his brow, genuinely surprised. “Is it not obvious?” he whispered. “Your goddess sent you here to steal the Fountain of Infinite Grace … that is how you are to return the shining water to Erlkazar.”

The Mar’s sly logic stunned Atreus. It was an elegant solution to an otherwise impossible problem, but for the one detail Rishi had overlooked.

“Sune would never want such a thing.”

“Want what thing?” asked Seema, finally drawn out of her reverie.

Rishi glanced at Yago, then cocked his head meaningfully in her direction. Atreus scowled and shook his head.

Getting no answer to her question, Seema stepped to Atreus’s side and asked, “What is all this whispering?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Atreus replied.

He was careful not to look in the direction of the alabaster altar, but Seema’s suspicions were already raised. She glanced at the toppled cup, her eyes lit in understanding, and she grabbed Atreus’s arm with surprising strength.

“You would steal Langdarma’s beauty?”

“No,” Atreus said, and covered Seema’s fingers with his hand. “Sune would not want me to. The last thing she would want is to spoil a place like Langdarma.”

Yago rolled his eyes and quickly looked away, but his skepticism was not lost on Rishi.

“What do you think, my friend?” asked the Mar. “Is this Sune not a jealous goddess, who might very well resent this stream of beauty pouring forth from her ancient rival’s temple?”

The ogre gave a grudging shrug. “She’s fickle enough,” he said. “I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

Seema paled, turning to call the Dweller.

Atreus pulled her back, clamping a hand over her mouth. “You have nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “Even if Sune did want the fountain, how could we get it past the Dweller? I’m sure it would frown on us stealing the source of its shining pool.”

“How would it know until it was too late to stop us?” asked Rishi, smiling.

The Mar bounded up the dais and snatched the cup off the altar, eliciting a muffled scream from Seema. “Put that back!” Atreus ordered.

“Have no worry, I am not stealing the cup,” said Rishi. “I am only demonstrating how such a thing might be possible, in case the good sir should in his own judgment consider it necessary.”

“I won’t”

Rishi paid Atreus no attention, began to descend the dais, and said, “You see?” The Mar stopped two steps above, holding the cup sideways so that the water continued to pour out at an even rate. “In this manner, we could advance all the way to the stairs above the Pool of Gems, where we might wait until the Dweller wandered away on its business. Or perhaps we would send someone to distract it while the others fled with the Fountain of Infinite Grace.”

“How do we escape Langdarma before the Sannyasi catches us?” Atreus asked, more to prove the impossibility of Rishi’s plan than because he was really interested. Or so he told himself. “From what little I recall, the Passing was something of a challenge.”

Rishi’s smile grew confident “Langdarma is difficult to enter, but easy to leave,” he said. “Yago and I learned of many exits while we were searching for the fountain.”

Seema’s body stiffened. She began to struggle in Atreus’s arms, going so far as to bite his palm. He winced, then pointed his chin at the altar.

“Put it back,” Atreus said, feeling Seema’s chin grow slick with his blood. “Sune didn’t send me here to steal the fountain or anything else.”

Rishi’s eyes hardened and he demanded, “Do you never think of anyone beyond yourself?” He glanced back toward the alabaster altar. “I am sure that any two of those treasures would make me the wealthiest bahrana in the Five Kingdoms!”

“I’m tired of telling you.” Atreus caught Yago’s eye, swung his chin toward the Mar, and said, “Feel free to break an arm if he doesn’t give it to you.”

Instead of rushing to obey, the ogre asked, “You sure about that?”

“What?” Atreus gasped, astonished by Yago’s disobedience. “You can’t be with him!”

Yago scowled, clearly insulted. ” ‘Course not!” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out why you want to stay ugly for the rest of your life.” The ogre glanced at Rishi and added, “He’s right about Sune. You know he is. I didn’t come all this way to see you go home empty-handed.”

Atreus fell silent, weighing the ogre’s opinion and hating himself for it. To even consider the possibility that Sune had sent him after the cup was a betrayal of Seema’s love, yet the way she continued to struggle in his arms made it clear that she believed he had already forsaken her. He glanced down and noticed his blood drops falling into the stream of sparkling water and turning into little beads of gold. Everyone but him, it seemed, knew exactly what the goddess expected.

“On my heart,” Atreus growled. “How I wish I could stay.”

“But the Sannyasi will not permit it, and so he deserves what he shall receive.” Rishi smirked, then started back up the dais. “Come along, Yago, and help me retrieve the rest of the treasure.”

“No,” Atreus said, closing his eyes. “Don’t do it.”

Seema stopped struggling, astonished, and Rishi spun on his heel, spraying her and Atreus with a stream of shining water.

“What?” the Mar demanded.

Atreus opened his eyes again. “We came to fill the vial.” He pointed his chin toward the cup. “Put it back.”

Rishi glared at Seema icily, clearly blaming her for the loss of his fortune. A crafty gleam came to his eye.

“You are very clever, good sir. If the water loses its sparkle again, we can always return for the cup in the morning. But how will you pay me with all your gold lost in the river? Even the clothes on your back are not your own.”

Seema tensed at Rishi’s words, but she did not resume her struggle. Though even Atreus could not say what he would do if the water lost its sparkle again, he sensed that Seema hoped as much as he that he would not have to make the choice. He glanced in Yago’s direction and nodded.

“Give me that!” Yago’s gangling arm lashed out, ripping the cup from Rishi’s hands and inadvertently turning it upside down.

It was as though the ogre had punched a hole in the bottom of a lake. A raging torrent of water poured from the mouth of the chalice, instantly sweeping the legs out from under Atreus and Rishi and sweeping them down the aisle.

Fearing the Mar would take advantage of the situation, Atreus released Seema and grabbed Rishi instead. They tumbled a dozen paces down the aisle, before Yago finally thought to right the cup. The torrent ended as swiftly as it began, depositing Atreus and his captive among the moldy-smelling rugs on a meditation platform.

“There is no need to crush me,” Rishi wheezed. “You are the ugly one. If you do not want to steal the fountain, then I am as willing as you to leave it behind.”

“I’ll believe that when we’re back in the Five Kingdoms,” Atreus said.

He glanced up and saw Seema across the aisle, wiping the moldy remnants of a carpet off her cloak. The flood itself had spent its fury washing onto the meditation platforms and was slowly draining back into its main channel. Yago stood near the bottom of the dais, holding the cup upright and staring at its gem-studded rim as though he were clutching a live cobra. In this position, the fountain looked much the same as any other chalice. There was no water spilling over its rim and only a faint aura shining up from its interior.

Atreus dragged Rishi over to Yago’s side, exchanging the indignant Mar for the platinum cup.

“Keep an eye on our thieving friend.”

“Why do you insist on insulting me, good sir?” Rishi protested. “Did I not give you my word? I have completely forgotten the Fountain of Infinite Grace. If you cannot see that Langdarma has nothing to fear from me, then you are certainly the fool they took you for in Queen Rosalind’s court!”

“I’ve been called worse than a fool.” Atreus glanced back at Seema, who was watching him with veiled emotions, and added, “Perhaps rightfully so.”

Atreus climbed the dais and laid the cup on the alabaster altar, restarting the flow of shining water. Though he had reached the end of his quest, he experienced no exultation or relief, only a queasy sort of guilt that made him feel hollow and cold inside. He removed the empty vial from his cloak and held it beneath the falling water and, as the flow spilled over his fingers, took no joy in the sweet tickle of its magic.

When the vial was full, Atreus corked it, carefully wrapped it inside a cushioning rag, and began to descend the dais.

“Ain’t you gonna take a drink?” asked Yago, oblivious to Atreus’s remorseful mood. “I’d kinda like to see you handsome.”

“Yes, drink,” sneered Seema. “If the magic here is as potent as you hope, you will be handsome forever.”

Stung by the sarcasm in her voice, Atreus started to decline, then realized she was right. Whether the magic lasted or not, he stood to lose nothing by drinking, and it just might be what Sune had intended all along. Anything as worth a try, if it meant avoiding the decision of whether or not to steal the fountain.

Atreus knelt beside the altar, then opened his mouth under the cup and let the shining water pour down his throat. He experienced the same airy giddiness as before, save that it was a hundred times as strong, so strong that he felt its radiance shining inside every part of his body, filling him from head to toe with a sweet burning he swore would turn him to smoke.

A terrible thought occurred to Atreus then, and he turned to see if he could read any sign of betrayal in Seema’s face. She grimaced and looked away in disappointment, but Yago smiled broadly.

“Now, if that ain’t a wonderful sight!” said the ogre. “I wish they could see you back in the Church of Beauty!”