Blackveil
Page 101
“I’ve saved the best for last,” Alton said, taking her hand. He found it strong and limber. His own hands were bulky with muscles from stonework, huge and powerful, like a draft horse. Estral’s were more like a champion racehorse or a hunter in top condition, all lean, smooth, muscle. He realized it must be from lute playing, all those hours and hours of practice and performance. He thought of those hands on him, “playing” him, and he trembled.
He tugged on her hand to cover it up. “C’mon. See what you think.”
He led her to the circle of columns in the center of the chamber. There was the one that lay broken in sections across the floor and he was reminded of Tower of the Earth, the skeleton on the floor reaching.
“What’s that?” Estral asked, pointing at the pedestal in the middle of the circle. On top of it the lump of tourmaline gave off a faint green glow.
Alton pushed the image of the skeleton from his mind. “It’s called the tempes stone. First time I touched it, it awoke Merdigen. I think it somehow aids his ability to exist.”
“I’d love to meet him,” Estral said.
“You will, but he’s away at the moment.”
“Away? How can he ... ?”
Alton shrugged. “He’s off meeting with the other tower mages. The ones east of the breach, anyway.”
“Right,” Estral said.
“Now let’s take a step through the columns, shall we? Be warned you may find it disconcerting.”
She raised that skeptical eyebrow at him, but when they stepped through and the tower disappeared and they stood upon an impossible expanse of grasslands illuminated only by stars and moon, she loosed a squeal of surprise.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “If you step back through the columns you’ll be back in the tower.”
The tower may have vanished, but the columns, tempes stone and pedestal, and east and west arches remained visible, like the ruins of some ancient civilization. Reluctantly he released Estral’s hand so she could investigate. She stepped back and forth between the columns testing the effect, then walked the circle weaving between the columns. Eventually she came to stand beside him again.
“Incredible,” she said.
He could hear the awe in her voice and was pleased.
“Where is this?” she asked. “Is it real?”
“Hard to say exactly,” Alton said. He’d asked Merdigen once about the reality of it, and Merdigen had shot back with his usual, “Are you real, boy?”
“This landscape seems to be aligned with our season and time of day, for what it’s worth. I’ve been in Itharos’ tower, and his landscape is arctic, like the great ice fields to the north. Its time of day is opposite ours, from what I can tell.”
Estral shivered beside him. “It’s cold enough here. The air is crisp, and though the breeze is out of the northwest, I can smell the ground thawing like spring is not far off. It’s so very real.” As if to augment her words, coyotes bayed in the distance.
Alton had held onto the blanket and now he placed it over both their shoulders and boldly wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. It was very warming. She did not object and when she gazed at him, it was not with trepidation, but more assessing. She did not protest on Karigan’s behalf, did not mention Karigan at all. Interesting. He was pleased.
“The stars are incredible here,” he said. “No trees to block them. The Sword of Sevelon is almost in its upraised position.”
But Estral did not look at the stars. Her gaze lingered on him, still assessing.
“Is ... is something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “Nothing at all. I’m just thinking I’m glad I came here.”
“And I’m glad I came to my senses and didn’t let you leave.”
“Like you had any say in the matter.” She subtly shifted her weight so she leaned into him. Alton’s heart fluttered.
He turned so they faced one another, and when he kissed her, their bodies melding into one, the music that was Estral Andovian filled him with the harmony that had been absent from his life for too long.
ARRIVAL
The journey to the wall, Karigan thought, would not have been bearable without her fellow Riders along. The two soldiers who were part of the expedition, Lieutenant Grant and Private Porter, kept to themselves despite friendly overtures from the Riders to sit by their fire in the evenings.
The members of the light cavalry also kept separate, sipping their brandy at the end of the day while the lowest ranked man among them tended to the camp work and saw to their comforts more as a servant than a fellow man-at-arms. Karigan, accustomed to the Rider way of things where everyone carried their own weight, thought it a strange way to instill camaraderie, but the light cavalry was composed mainly of those of noble lineage who expected not to serve, but to be served.
The forester, Ard Ardmont, did join them at the fire, laughing at their jokes, telling his own stories of hunting mishaps and of life in the woods of Coutre Province. He seemed an easygoing, genial fellow, and was a fine addition to their lively group.
At night when all had quieted and Karigan lay wrapped up in her bedroll by the fire, she gazed at the stars, too preoccupied to sleep. Naturally she worried about Blackveil and what awaited them there, and about the Eletians and how they would regard her participation in the expedition.
Yet overriding those serious concerns was her memory of King Zachary on the steps of the castle as she departed; a memory of words she wasn’t quite sure she heard. Come back. To me. A mix of yearning and anger broiled within her. It was not the first time, she was startled to realize, he’d spoken those words to her. She reached back through memory, well back, to the night of the coup attempt when King Zachary’s brother had taken over the castle. Karigan had volunteered to spy out what was happening inside. Her fading ability made her a perfect choice for such a reconnaissance mission.
He tugged on her hand to cover it up. “C’mon. See what you think.”
He led her to the circle of columns in the center of the chamber. There was the one that lay broken in sections across the floor and he was reminded of Tower of the Earth, the skeleton on the floor reaching.
“What’s that?” Estral asked, pointing at the pedestal in the middle of the circle. On top of it the lump of tourmaline gave off a faint green glow.
Alton pushed the image of the skeleton from his mind. “It’s called the tempes stone. First time I touched it, it awoke Merdigen. I think it somehow aids his ability to exist.”
“I’d love to meet him,” Estral said.
“You will, but he’s away at the moment.”
“Away? How can he ... ?”
Alton shrugged. “He’s off meeting with the other tower mages. The ones east of the breach, anyway.”
“Right,” Estral said.
“Now let’s take a step through the columns, shall we? Be warned you may find it disconcerting.”
She raised that skeptical eyebrow at him, but when they stepped through and the tower disappeared and they stood upon an impossible expanse of grasslands illuminated only by stars and moon, she loosed a squeal of surprise.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “If you step back through the columns you’ll be back in the tower.”
The tower may have vanished, but the columns, tempes stone and pedestal, and east and west arches remained visible, like the ruins of some ancient civilization. Reluctantly he released Estral’s hand so she could investigate. She stepped back and forth between the columns testing the effect, then walked the circle weaving between the columns. Eventually she came to stand beside him again.
“Incredible,” she said.
He could hear the awe in her voice and was pleased.
“Where is this?” she asked. “Is it real?”
“Hard to say exactly,” Alton said. He’d asked Merdigen once about the reality of it, and Merdigen had shot back with his usual, “Are you real, boy?”
“This landscape seems to be aligned with our season and time of day, for what it’s worth. I’ve been in Itharos’ tower, and his landscape is arctic, like the great ice fields to the north. Its time of day is opposite ours, from what I can tell.”
Estral shivered beside him. “It’s cold enough here. The air is crisp, and though the breeze is out of the northwest, I can smell the ground thawing like spring is not far off. It’s so very real.” As if to augment her words, coyotes bayed in the distance.
Alton had held onto the blanket and now he placed it over both their shoulders and boldly wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. It was very warming. She did not object and when she gazed at him, it was not with trepidation, but more assessing. She did not protest on Karigan’s behalf, did not mention Karigan at all. Interesting. He was pleased.
“The stars are incredible here,” he said. “No trees to block them. The Sword of Sevelon is almost in its upraised position.”
But Estral did not look at the stars. Her gaze lingered on him, still assessing.
“Is ... is something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “Nothing at all. I’m just thinking I’m glad I came here.”
“And I’m glad I came to my senses and didn’t let you leave.”
“Like you had any say in the matter.” She subtly shifted her weight so she leaned into him. Alton’s heart fluttered.
He turned so they faced one another, and when he kissed her, their bodies melding into one, the music that was Estral Andovian filled him with the harmony that had been absent from his life for too long.
ARRIVAL
The journey to the wall, Karigan thought, would not have been bearable without her fellow Riders along. The two soldiers who were part of the expedition, Lieutenant Grant and Private Porter, kept to themselves despite friendly overtures from the Riders to sit by their fire in the evenings.
The members of the light cavalry also kept separate, sipping their brandy at the end of the day while the lowest ranked man among them tended to the camp work and saw to their comforts more as a servant than a fellow man-at-arms. Karigan, accustomed to the Rider way of things where everyone carried their own weight, thought it a strange way to instill camaraderie, but the light cavalry was composed mainly of those of noble lineage who expected not to serve, but to be served.
The forester, Ard Ardmont, did join them at the fire, laughing at their jokes, telling his own stories of hunting mishaps and of life in the woods of Coutre Province. He seemed an easygoing, genial fellow, and was a fine addition to their lively group.
At night when all had quieted and Karigan lay wrapped up in her bedroll by the fire, she gazed at the stars, too preoccupied to sleep. Naturally she worried about Blackveil and what awaited them there, and about the Eletians and how they would regard her participation in the expedition.
Yet overriding those serious concerns was her memory of King Zachary on the steps of the castle as she departed; a memory of words she wasn’t quite sure she heard. Come back. To me. A mix of yearning and anger broiled within her. It was not the first time, she was startled to realize, he’d spoken those words to her. She reached back through memory, well back, to the night of the coup attempt when King Zachary’s brother had taken over the castle. Karigan had volunteered to spy out what was happening inside. Her fading ability made her a perfect choice for such a reconnaissance mission.
