[Lanen Kaelar 01] - Song in the Silence (51 page)

“It is well spoken,” replied Shikrar.
He called out aloud to those of the Kindred who were still
nearby. ”Let
us return to our homes, my people, and each keep safe his own dwelling. When
the intruder
is found, the Council will resume. This is the counsel of the Eldest and the
Keeper
of
Souls.”

And the Dragons melted away like ice in sunshine,
swift and silent, until only Shikrar stood
with Rella and me. “I too must
go, the Chamber of Souls must be guarded,” he said, and
suddenly the
idea of waiting helplessly so far away and so alone terrified me.

“Let us come with you,” I said, ashamed
of my fear but sure of what I asked. Shikrar looked
surprised, so I added, “We can’t
go into Akor’s chambers. I suspect Rishkaan would take his
chances with
the Council and kill me if he had half a chance, despite Kédra. And if Marik
comes here,
hidden from sight and sound—well, it wouldn’t be as clean as Rishkaan, but the
end would be
the same. Please, Shikrar,” I begged, despising myself. Just like the
idiots in the
ballads.
Damn.

I did not recognise the Attitude Shikrar took on,
but his voice sounded an odd mixture of
annoyance and approval. ”Very well.
Come, we must hurry. Both of you sit upon my
neck, as Akhor bore you, Lanen. It
will be the swiftest.” And he put his head on the ground.

I was just reaching out to clamber onto his neck
when with a hiss and a deep rumbling growl
he sat bolt upright, knocking me to
the ground, his head whipping round to the southeast as
though his gaze would pierce
darkness, distance and all. My heart dropped into my stomach,
for I knew
the instant he did. I cannot imagine how, but I knew, even before Akor’s cry
echoed in my
mind.

The soulgems of the Lost.

Marik had them.

 

Akhor

I was stabbed with the theft as with a lance of
ice, as I rode the night wind to the north and
west seeking I knew not what. My back
arched, my neck snapped skyward and I split the
night with a plume of Fire to hallow
my vengeance, for I was seized in that instant with a
purpose beside which all else was
nought. I would save the Lost Ones from this final
desecration or die in the attempt.

I cried out to Lanen, a wordless cry of loss and
desolation, as in my soul I knew this must be
the death of all our words in
Council. I turned on the wind and flew fast as thought, calling to
Shikrar as I
went.
“Shikrar, Keeper of Souls, command
me!”

”Akhor,
soulfriend, meet me at the Chamber of Souls,”
cried
Shikrar, his mindvoice faint in
despair.
”Lost,
lost, twice cursed and twice bereft, all my ancestors bear me witness I will
have them back!”

We are brothers in the soul, after all.

 

Lanen

Shikrar crouched to fly but I cried out, aloud
and in true-speech,
”Eldest, leave me
not here! I
know
what has befallen, I heard the Lost cry out as did you, bear me hence I beg
you!”

I might as well have kept silence.
“There is no time!”
he cried,
and sprang into the night with
a clap of his vast wings. It blew us over.

“Damn,” I said aloud, as Rella and I
stood and brushed ourselves off as Shikrar disappeared.
“What in all the Hells is going
on?” she asked. “I’ll tell you as we run,” I replied and was
starting to
follow after Shikrar when behind and above me I heard a roar like nothing on
earth.
I
threw myself to the ground from sheer instinct and felt the wind batter me,
heard the clap of
Dragon
wings, and watched as another took to the skies. It was hard to tell in the
moonlight,
but
it was too large and too bright for Kédra and I only knew of one other
nearby—one whose
bright
copper hide would reflect moonlight well.

Rishkaan.

Damn, damn, damn!

”Kédra!
Swiftly, to me!”
I cried, dragging Rella behind me,
and met him coming out of
Akor’s chambers.

 

Marik

My legs are weak, my old pain has come back even
as I run with this burden of wealth. I
stumble as fast as I may.

Curse it, the sign Berys warned me of! A tingling
at my throat, the amulet drags at my neck
and sends sharp stabs into my heart
with every step. The wound on my chest where I
scratched myself with the spike burns
with the nearness of Raksha-fire, and I cannot get rid of
the high
voices of the gems. How should gems speak? They are cursed, perhaps they are
demons
themselves, Lords of Hell what have I got?

My two hours are all but sped.

I cannot find the Boundary! How can this be, I
returned only last night with no trouble—but
the gems, they sing, I hear them try
to speak, their sounds confuse me, I cannot see despite the
bright moon.
The gems and their golden cask drag at me. Hells and damnation, I have to get
out of here!

I can only run and hope I will blunder into the
Boundary by chance. Lords of Hell, guide my
steps who seek to serve you. The
first of these gems will I give in free offering to you, if you
will get me
past the Boundary. Hells and damnation. I hear in every breath their step
behind
me,
feel every moment the hot wind that precedes my death. I saw the fury of the
one who
destroyed
the demon, I know my life is forfeit if my amulet fades while still I walk in
the
forbidden
lands. I remember the corpse of the youth who crossed over, I could not eat for
days
after—what
will they do to me if they catch me with their greatest treasure?

Faster, man, faster! Hell’s teeth, the gems are
keening high and shrill, terror flows cold up my
spine bone by bone, freezing my legs
and my heart, threatening to leave me here forever, the
frozen statue of a running man. Your
life, Marik, stay alive! Run, run with what strength you
have left,
for the amulet beats now its pulse to match my heart, faster, faster—there!

Dark in the moonlight the Boundary rises before
me, safety in wooden rails. Fast as thought,
Marik, run, run—through! Through and
beyond, tear off the damned amulet that bums now
where it touches chest and hand,
throw it from me. I slow, out of breath, I watch as it glows
brightly once
more, bright as it flashed at first, but the glow now is a rich red, like light
through
blood. It lies on the ground, gleaming brighter and brighter. I cannot look
away, it
fills
my sight like a red star fallen to earth.

I tear my eyes away at last and run, now south,
where the ship lies waiting that will carry me
safe from this place of horror.

 

Shikrar

Every bone in my body cried out when the soulgems
of the Lost were stolen, every instinct
told me to fly to the Chamber of
Souls, and so I did, swift as wings would carry me. I had
only just
landed when Rishkaan arrived, a fury in his eyes that frightened me. Akhor came
as
swiftly
as he could, but he had been far to the west.

I tried to reason with Rishkaan, but I might as
well have spoken with a stone. He rushed past
me into the Chamber, sniffing for all
he was worth. “No scent, no scent, how can that be,
there must be
some trace, there has to be—”

”Rishkaan, remember what the Gedri Rella said,
that he had come and gone without our
knowledge before. We will never find him this
way.”

He snapped his head to face me. “You are
right,” he said in a voice of iron. “He must have
gone—”
He did not stay even to complete his thought, but sped away past me into
darkness.

I could not follow, and did not want to. If
Rishkaan needed vengeance, if in his fury he slew this Marik, I would not stand
in his way. I would await Akhor here, in my ravished
Chamber, where the soulgems of my
ancestors looked down in contempt on the failure of
the Keeper of Souls.

 

These
are the true words of Rishkaan, from the Kin-Summoning requested by Akhor,
Silver
King of the Kantri.

 

The soulgems of the Lost sang loudly of their
theft; I could not ignore it. I took Kédra by
surprise and pushed him aside—he is
much younger and smaller than I, after all— and leapt
into the sky as soon as I was out of
Akhor’s cave, flying towards the Chamber of Souls.

It was not only the theft that compelled me. I
could not rid myself of that vision, it lingered
before my mind’s eye like an image of
the sun. Akhor, dead, his body turned to ash—that was
bad, but death comes to all in their
time. Far worse, worst of all, the horrible clarity of the
Gedri Lanen
with her younglings. They were a monstrous union of the two Kindreds, able to
change from
one to another at will. It was the sight of that perversion that struck bright
flame
within
me. Such abomination I would spend my life to prevent.

The Silver King, Akhor the Wise, I had hoped for
so much from him. Still, he would get over
this Gedri child. It was merely a
passing madness. He had many years yet in which to
accomplish the purpose for which he
had been born.

As long as my dream remained unfulfilled.

I saw Shikrar land before me, but the time for
subtlety and obedience was past. I ran before
him into the Chamber, where stray
glints of moon and starlight filtered down from the airhole
above and
struck brief gleams from the soulgems of the Ancestors on the back wall.
Someday
I shall have my place there,
I
thought briefly,
a good end for a long
life, rest and peace and the
voices of your descendants to call you forth from time to time
—but
as I knew it must be,
when
I turned to look at the flickering depths of the Lost Ones, I could but stare,
for all my
knowledge
silent and open-mouthed, at the pedestal where they had rested near five
thousand
years,
empty now of anything but memory.

Shikrar reminded me I could not trace him by
smell, so I must outwit the creature. Where
should he go but the fastest way back
to the Gedri camp?

I hurried out of the Chamber of Souls and made
the straightest way to the Boundary,
searching still as I went for the smell of the Gedri
or for Raksha-trace. I found none, but still I
followed the way the evil one must
have gone.

 

 

 

 

XVII

THE LOST

 

Shikrar

It was but a moment after Rishkaan had gone that
Akhor bespoke me.
”What news, Shikrar?”
he asked
urgently.

“Rishkaan
is gone after the thief,”
I replied, and in the
Language of Truth I could not keep my
underthought from adding,
“and I did nothing to stop him.”

“You are
not to blame,”
he said instantly.
“Where has he gone?”

”Towards the
camp of the Gedri,”
I replied.
”He is in a fury, Akhor. What must I do?”

“Keep
you in the Chamber of Souls, Eldest, lest against all reason Marik should
return.
Reason
seems to have little sway this night. I will await Rishkaan and Marik in the
camp of
the
Gedri.”

And he was gone.

 

Lanen

“Kédra, please, I must be with Akor. All is
changed now, I beg you, take me to him!”

“Lady, ask me anything but this,” he
replied, deeply troubled. “I have already lost my charge
Rishkaan, I
dare not so disobey my King as to do this for you. Lord Akhor would not thank
me for taking
you into such danger.”

“I don’t care!” I shrieked. I was
dancing with frustration and the need to be gone. “Damn it,
Kédra, I
can’t leave him alone in this. I tell you I heard the Lost cry out before Akor
spoke
word,
I am called, I cannot stay here!”

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