The form of the akesh materialized in front of them, glowing faintly of its own accord. The room grew brighter, illuminated by four gla.s.s hemispheres set into the walls.

"Why did you forbid our companion entry?" asked Gerin.

"That being has power we cannot control," said the akesh. "Our laws forbid such a creature from entering our domain."

"Why have you locked us in?" asked Balandrick.

"The door will open in time. There are things we would have you know. Come. I will take you to the en pulyan ar-anglota."

The akesh turned away from them, and as it did, the bright outline of a door appeared in the wall. The outlined faded in a moment, and the door opened silently onto a stairway landing. They followed the akesh, with Gerin in the lead.

The stairway spiraled down toward a bottom lost in gloomy darkness. The curved walls were lit by the same glowing hemispheres they had seen in the antechamber, though they were not very bright-apparently the Telchan did not care for or need much light. They were filled with magefire, Gerin realized, but operated on a different principle than the lamps wizards produced. Who created this place? he wondered. Why is wizard-like magic in use here?

There were no doors or other landings visible as they descended. Even after they had gone a considerable distance, Gerin could not see the bottom.

Far off sounds like the tearing of metal drifted up the shaft from somewhere below. "What is that noise?" Gerin asked.

"That is the power of the Telchan at work," said the akesh.

"When will we meet the Telchan? Are you taking us to them now? Are they in the en pulyan ar-anglota?"

"You will not meet them. It is forbidden for them to have direct contact with anyone who is not Maitalari. Only through me can they hold communion with you."

The statement confused Gerin. "Maitalari" was an Osirin word of very archaic form that he thought meant "people of knowledge," or perhaps "servants of lore." He had never heard the word before.

He was about to ask the akesh another question when it stopped and faced the wall. Another luminous door appeared, identical to the one in the antechamber, the white light slicing a knife-edged trail through the stone.

"This is the en pulyan ar-anglota," announced the akesh. "Where your questions will be heard and answered."

Gerin drew a breath to calm himself and pa.s.sed through the doorway.

He entered a huge domed room, the walls of which were ribbed with curved beams that shone with a wan bluish light. The light brightened and dimmed in rhythm with a deep pulsing noise, a low thrumming that Gerin felt more than heard. The ribs converged on a hemisphere of some dark metal at the apex of the dome.

There was power in this chamber, a great deal of it. Forces ebbed and flowed like the tides, washing over him with energies so potent they made his head swim. His exhaustion dragged at him, and the pain from his wounds made it difficult for him to concentrate. But he had arrived at his destination. He fought to clear his mind and learn what the Telchan wanted him to know. They had promised to reveal the secret of the Words of Making. He needed that knowledge if they were to have a hope of defeating the Adversary.

The akesh grew even more distinct and luminous than before, as if the power in the en pulyan ar-anglota were saturating its being. Gerin thought it had grown larger, but without an easy reference point it was difficult to be certain.

"The air in here feels heavy," said Nyene.

Balandrick nodded. "There's a kind of pressure on my skin. It's uncomfortable."

"What will happen now?" Gerin asked the akesh.

"I must leave you. I cannot remain while the pulyaril is awake. Do not fear. I will return when it is done."

"When what is done?" asked Gerin. But the akesh was already fading. In a moment it was gone from the chamber.

"I don't like this place," said Elaysen.

Gerin did not reply. There was nothing they could do now except wait for whatever was going to happen to occur.

The low thrumming sound increased in intensity. The ebbs and flows of power in the chamber grew stronger, more chaotic, as if a storm were building.

The hemisphere at the top of the dome pulsed with a bloo-dred light that seemed to take command of the energies in the room. The chaotic swirl of magic began to order itself; Gerin could almost imagine the flows of power suddenly aligning themselves along the ribs within the dome, encasing them in thickening sheaths of magic.

Pressure began to build behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut, but the pressure quickly grew painful.

"G.o.ds, it hurts..." said Nyene. "What's happening?"

There was a crisp smell in the room that reminded Gerin of a biting winter wind. He heard a ringing in his ears as well, but it was not the melodious sound of the akesh-this was a discordant, strident sound, dark and ominous.

He pressed his hands to his temples as he sensed a living presence moving through his thoughts, exploring like a shadowy stranger wandering through an unfamiliar house in an attempt to understand the placement and purposes of each room. It echoed the feeling of the Presence in Naragenth's staff, only this was even more painful, the power having little regard for the damage it might cause.

Elaysen cried out and sank to her knees, her eyes squeezed shut. "Make it stop! Please!"

The pain intensified, building toward some impossible crescendo.

There was a flash of light that he saw in his mind rather than with his eyes. Then the pain and the thrumming vanished. The immense energies receded. The hemisphere above them once more grew dark.

They all gasped for breath, many of them doubled over. The air in the chamber was stale and close. Gerin felt light-headed and nauseous. His ribs hurt immensely.

The akesh appeared before them, as luminous as before, and regarded them with a piercing light in its eyes. Behind them the door swung open to the stairs.

"You have been given what you came for," it said. "Now you must leave. There is nothing more for you here."

18.

Gerin and the wizards protested as the akesh led them back toward the surface, but it would not respond or acknowledge them in any way. At one point Abaru said defiantly, "It's not right that we should be herded out of here like cattle. We came here for answers, and the G.o.ds take me, we're going to get them!" He turned and started back down the stairs, but had gone only three paces when a curtain of blue fire erupted below him, blocking his path. Abaru reeled and fell back against the stairs.

"Do not unleash your power here," warned the akesh. "Even your combined might could not break the barrier. If the Telchan were forced to extinguish your magic, it is possible you would be harmed, perhaps irreparably."

"We didn't get to ask a single question!" said Abaru. "Some of our companions died coming here!"

"The Telchan knew your questions before you entered the Tower. They have answered what they could. Be patient. All will be revealed."

"What about the rest of the Havalqa army?" asked Balandrick. "Are they waiting for us in the valley?"

"We were forced to destroy them," said the akesh. "It was unfortunate, but the Telchan had no choice."

"If you have such power, will you help us against the Havalqa?" asked Gerin. "You could drive them back across the sea."

"The magic of the Telchan is bound to this place," said the akesh. "It is rooted here, and cannot be moved. By the laws of their creation, they may only defend themselves. They cannot help you."

Then it turned its back to them and spoke no more.

It was fully dark when they finally exited the Tower. A half-moon was rising from behind the Ozul Mountains like the luminous sail of a ship.

They did not speak as they journeyed along the causeway. They traveled only until they were beyond the causeway's end before making camp. Gerin was too weary to travel farther.

Disappointment weighed heavily on all of them. The wizards made a feeble attempt to discuss the unique powers they'd witnessed within the Tower, but none of them had much enthusiasm for conversation and in a little while fell silent.

"You came far on a fool's errand," said Nyene. "Those within the Towers play games with you. To see if you will come when they call, like good dogs." She whistled as if calling a dog to dinner.

"Unless you want to spend the night gagged, I suggest you say nothing else," said Balandrick.

Gerin was bone weary and still in a great deal of pain from his wounds. Hollin recovered enough of his strength to work several more healing spells on the king. Gerin curled up in his blankets and stared at the looming bulk of the Towers with the moon behind them. He saw flashes of lightning to the north, followed by the distant rumble of thunder.

He could no longer fight off his fatigue. He closed his eyes and was asleep within a few breaths.

A cool autumn twilight settled over Hethnost as the sun sank behind the Redhorn Hills. The leaves had begun to change. The gardens of the immense fortress were set afire with colors-red, gold, orange, bronze-intermingled with leaves still stubbornly clinging to green. But it was only a matter of time before they, too, would change, and then fall. Time could not be stayed for anyone, or anything.

Gerin wandered through the fortress, strangely at ease. Hethnost was empty; he saw no one, saw no lights in any windows, no lanterns in the gardens. Even the ma.s.sive Varsae Sandrova, where lights burned day and night, was dark.

But none of this troubled him. A light breeze ruffled his hair and brought him the scent of roses. He knew where he was to go, though he could not have said why.

When he reached the walled garden where the statue Death of a Son stood, he saw a woman sitting on a bench with a magefire lamp beside her. The warm yellow light bathed her with a luminous, almost unearthly glow.

His breath caught when he saw who it was.

Reshel looked up from the book she was reading and beamed at him. The sight of her, and her radiant smile, almost broke his heart. Tears stung his eyes.

"h.e.l.lo, big brother. It's good to see you."

He could not speak. He knew this was a dream or vision of some kind, but it was so real, so tangible, that he felt he might never wake from it, that he would continue on here, living this life instead of the one he left behind. And maybe that would be better, he thought. Reshel is alive in this place.

He stood looking down at her and finally found his voice. "h.e.l.lo, little sister."

She rose from the bench and hugged him. "I've missed you." She sat back down and patted the bench beside her.

"I've missed you, too," he said as he sat down. "This is more than a dream, isn't it?"

She smiled again. "Yes." The light from the magefire lamp sparkled in her eyes, as if they were filled with stars. "What would you have of me?"

This seemed perfectly natural to him. Of course she would have the answers he needed. She always had answers.

"Are you alive? Truly alive?"

"I'm alive in your heart and mind, which is why I'm here to show you what you need to know."

"Have you seen...how are Father and Mother?"

A glint of sadness touched her eyes. "Gerin, I'm not her spirit. I'm your memory of her. I can't know what's beyond this life."

"I suppose I knew that, but I needed to ask."

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't. Now, what is it you would have of me?"

He paused to consider what he needed to know. "Tell me of the Telchan and Maitalari. Who are they?"

She crossed her legs beneath her skirts and folded her hands across her knees. It was something Reshel often did when pondering how to explain something complicated. He remembered the gesture well, and it stirred a deep sadness in his heart.

"That answer is bound up with the reason you were summoned," she said. "With the Words of Making." She absently drummed her fingers, then began.

"The Maitalari were a group of Atalari who devoted themselves to the preservation of knowledge. When their order was founded three thousand years before the Doomwar, much of the history of the Atalari had already been forgotten, and this alarmed and saddened them. They could not bear the thought of important and sacred knowledge pa.s.sing into oblivion, and so they took a vow that they would watch the Shining Nation from afar and record what they saw for future generations. They came to this secluded valley and built a haven where they worked to create a means of seeing across the length and breadth of Osseria, and ways to record it.

"At first their labors were not entirely successful. They pet.i.tioned the Matriarch of the Atalari for help. They asked her to create beings who could better perform the tasks of watching and recording. The Matriarch granted their request. She wanted her deeds and those of her descendants to be remembered for all time.

"And so she created the Telchan, the Watchers of the Maitalari who still dwell in their ancient Towers."

"How did the Matriarch create living beings?" asked Gerin. "How is that possible?"

Reshel reached out and took his hand. "That's a long story, but I'll be brief. Ages ago the Atalari discovered ways to open doors to other worlds. In one of these worlds were a people called the Mirgard, a G.o.dlike race who bestowed upon the Matriarch the power to create life itself from wood and stone and earth. This power was called the kalaya mithran, and for thousands of years the Matriarchs used it wisely-and sparingly-to create new beings.

"The first peoples created by this power were the Kholtaros and Lheltaros, shapers of stone and wood, who fashioned cities of unsurpa.s.sed beauty. Vacarandi was the greatest of these, the Royal Seat where for millennia the Matriarchs made their home. Nothing remains of it or the Ten Cities except perhaps some scattered stones lost among the gra.s.ses of the Kaldas Highlands or the Igrin Hills. All were destroyed by the twisted malevolence of the dragonlord."

"This power, the kalaya mithran. Is that what the Havalqa call the Words of Making?"

"Yes. The visions of their Dreamers were not wholly accurate. It is not the power of creation itself that fashioned the world and all things in it. But it and its sister power are potent, and may be of use to you in your struggle against the Adversary."

"Where is this power now?" he asked. "Please tell me you didn't bring me here to tell me this if you don't know where I can find it."

"Don't worry, big brother. We'll show you where it's been sleeping these long ages."

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he felt that his time with Reshel-or this dream world representation of her-was growing short. "Why don't the Maitalari share the knowledge they've gathered with the rest of the world? What is the point in keeping it locked up inside those Towers?"

Reshel shook her head. "It's not possible to share it. The Telchan are permitted to release their knowledge only to the Maitalari. This prohibition was made so the Maitalari high priests could control their knowledge and power. But the Maitalari are gone. They were wiped out in the Great Plague that devastated Osseria in the tenth century of the Dark Age. The Telchan were left to carry on their duties, and will do so as long as they exist, but they are bound by the laws of their creation. There was much debate about whether this knowledge could be released to you, and many still do not agree with the decision, or the admission of your companions who are not wizards. It comes dangerously close to violating the laws under which they were made. If you did not have the blood of the Atalari in your veins, their doors would have remained shut."

"Will you tell me where to find the kalaya mithran?" he asked.

"Yes. But it will be best if they show you."

"How will they do that?"

She stood and regarded him with a wistful sadness. "Close your eyes."

He did. He felt her hands touch his face.

"One final thing," she said. "The Telchan at times can glimpse the future. Their augury is not infallible, and much of what they see does not come to pa.s.s. But some visions are stronger than others. Some of what you will experience will a.s.sist you with matters that have not yet happened."

"I'm not sure I understand."