Kyot followed the stream and turned down an avenue of tall yew trees; he came to the ford and heard a roar and thunder of two waterfalls that guarded the dark entrance to the lawns.

Covering his ears against the noise he- crossed, nimbly jumping from stone to stone, and stepped up on to the close-mown gra.s.s. The peac.o.c.ks shrieked in warning and,

shaking out their feathers into brilliant glowing patterns, they watched his every step as they flanked him in escort to the doors of Clatterford.

Kyot reached out a hand and touched the wall beside the doors, running his fingertips across the smooth transparent crystal. He bent down and stared in wonder at the gla.s.s, forgetting the impatient peac.o.c.ks on either side and Fairday, the Master of Clatterford, waiting a few paces further on.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and turn in confusion to face his journey's end. 'Lord,' he cried, falling on to his knees. 'My father bid me bring you grave news. I was to tell you that the Nightmare, Krulshards, is once more loose in Elundium and that I need new arrow-heads to pierce the darkness.'

Fairday smiled down at Kyot and reaching out, he took hold of his hands and turned them over. 'You have the hands of an Archer and, I am sure, the heart to match them. But why do you seek these arrow blades?'

Kyot looked up, his eyes clouding with anger. 'The Nightmare tortured my father to death and took his hands. I seek the Nightbeast, Krulshards, in revenge.'

Fairday laughed with a sound of silver touching crystal and pulled Kyot to his feet. 'There are no gla.s.s arrows for revenge. Steel is a better blade for that. Steel is hard, cold and

unfeeling.'

'Steel will not enter the malice the Nightmare wears, only light trapped in the gla.s.s can harm him. Nevian taught me that on the night my father died.'

Fairday turned and took Kyot's hand and led him into the gardens. 'I would load your quiver to overflowing to fight against the Nightmare but not one spine or blade will I give you to use in revenge.' Stopping, he turned sharply and

looked deeply into Kyot's eyes. 'Archer does not want your revenge. He would curse you for it. He chose to stand against the Nightmare and keep pure his pledge. He sent you to carry his burden, not to add to it.'

Kyot frowned. 'What was his burden?'

'To guard the daylight, thatwas his burden, just as itwas every Wayhouse Keeper's task. But the Tower on Stumble Hill stands at the great crossroads and is the first Wayhouse against the darkness, chat is why Nevian gave your father the Bow of Orm and one quiver of gla.s.s-bladed arrows from my forge. Now all the arrows are spent, chat is why your father sent you, full grown, to stand in his place, clear-eyed against the darkness. He would not have wanted this revenge chat you carry.'

Fairday laughed. 'Come, my young warrior. Eat, drink and rest away your troubles. We will talk more on this at supper time and clear your heart for the task ahead.'

He clapped his hands and summoned the white-robed servers out on to the lawn. 'Tend to your guest,' he commanded. '

Give him everything he desires for he is Kyotorm, the new Keeper of the Tower at Stumble Hill.'

Kyot turned and stared at the Crystal Maker. 'How do you know my name and where I come from?'

Fairday smiled, 'It was foretold long ago chat the Bow of Orm would one daylight come to Clatterford and long have I waited. The Nightmare thought he took the hands of the greatest Archer in all Elundium, but malice and hatred blinded his purpose. Kyot, you are the best Archer in all Elundium, full grown beyond your father's power, and I knew you long before you crossed into Clatterford. With the first rumour of Nightbeasts abroad the watchers have brought me much news.'

'So you knew of my journey and still you let me wander helplessly in the gra.s.slands?' whispered Kyot.

Fairday smiled, looking past Kyot to a slender figure that stood, cloak-wrapped, between the flowered walkways. Raising his arm the Crystal Maker gendy turned Kyot round.

'Eventine, my daughter. She has watched over your long journey and brought me news of your coming. You wandered no further than to lay a crooked path should the Nightbeasts follow you.'

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'Eventine!' Kyot whispered, dazzled by her beauty. Crossing the lawn to her he said, 'Twice you saved my life from the Nightbeasts and I thank you for it.' Taking her hands into his he kissed them, feeling her cool slender fingers against his lips.

Frowning, she pulled away from him and stood a moment, her eyelashes fluttering against her tanned cheeks. 'There is darkness in your heart, Kyot, a hatred chat feeds on revenge.

It is a shadow chat comes between us.'

'But Eventine,' he cried, looking into her gentle eyes, 'I owe you my life, surely I can thank you for chat?'

'You owe me nothing, Prince of Archers,' she whispered, shaking her head, making her hair shimmer with the colour of fire-burned gold. 'All I did was to strengthen your resolve to find us.'

'I have found more than just Clatterford,' he answered, blushing at his own forwardness.

Eventine smiled, holding his gaze for a second before she turned and ran quickly into the Crystal Hall. Fairday smiled silendy, watching Kyot follow Eventine with his eyes until she had vanished out of sight. 'A daughter is a rare treasure,' he said quiedy, guiding Kyot into the care of the servers. 'Be rested and refreshed, young man, we will meet again at supper time.' Gathering his sky-washed robe across his arm Fairday left the lawns to the strutting peac.o.c.ks and entered the long forging hall, pulling the gla.s.s doors shut behind him.

'Gla.s.smakers!' he called above the muted roar of the furnaces. 'Come to my moulding chair and listen, for I have grave news to tell. News of Krulshards, chat Master of Nightmares, who is loose once more in Elundium.'

'Then the news of the Nightbeasts is not just gossip!'

gasped Tyadall, the vase master, dropping his blowpipes on to the veined marble floor.

'The time has come,' Fairday shouted, rising up out of his moulding chair. 'The time has come to forge new arrowheads

against the darkness and rekindle our lost skills to trap a ray of

181.

sunlight in each blade. See to the forges and fan them white hot to mirror the centre of the sun.'

'What of the crystal bowls, the plates and the window panes?' asked Tyadall, waving a goatskin sheet of demands.

'And the fluted flower vases and trinkets?' asked another gla.s.s maker.

Fairday scowled, drawing his bushy white eyebrows fiercely

together. He reached out and s.n.a.t.c.hed the demands from Tyadall and threw them into the forge. 'Elundium will have no use for bowl or crystal gla.s.s to keep out the cold if the Nightmare is not destroyed. Clean down the anvils and set them in the waters of the ford; polish the bra.s.s hammers and the silver blowpipes. Be ready when the new sun rises!'

182.

The Secret Road

King Holbian sighed and sat down, resting his aching back against the black tunnel wall. 'How long, Breakmaster?' he asked, feeding a few grains of corn to Beacon Light. 'How long have we been in the darkness?'

Breakmaster moved close to the King, following the musical whispers of the steelsilver coat. 'I have lost count, my Lord, but we must be many leagues away from the Granite City.'

'Has there been any sign of the Chancellors or my treacherous warriors?' the King asked.

'Lord,' replied the horseman, 'Grey Goose leads the way and he has found us much to eat that the Chancellors have discarded. They were careless in their haste to flee the ruined city and I doubt if they know we have followed them.'

'They shall pay for their treachery, mark these words and remember them, Breakmaster. They stole the last few moments of the Granite Kings and I set a high price on the daylight that we lost.'

King Holbian fell silent then slowly climbed to his feet and moved forwards again, a hand stretched out against the rough rock wall to guide him. For many leagues the secret road that led out of the Granite City had wound downwards, following a hidden fault through the bones of Elundium, twisting and turning before it turned to the north and pa.s.sed in a straight line under the roots of the Black Forest. Far ahead of the King Grey Goose could hear the sound of the Chancellors

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and lifted his hand to halt the column of city folk that followed him.

'Put out the sparks, and snuff the candles,' he whispered.

'Send for the King and ask him to come forward.' Grey Goose seeded back to wait for the King, counting the arrows that remained in his quiver.