As Kadiya and the child clinging to her neck watched astounded, the great trireme began to rock and shudder. Portolanus went into a paroxysm of rage. He pulled some small thing from his robe and tossed it into the air, and there was a great explosion accompanied by an eye-searing white flash. Immediately the sea calmed and the ship steadied. The frightened people on board were also stunned to silence, so that Kadiya could finally hear what the sorcerer was saying.
“Heldo! Damn you, Heldo—come up, I say! Cease this rebellious thrashing! You are bound by my spell, and you must obey me. I will not release you until you do as I command. Heldo, lord of the watery abyss, attend me!”
About a dozen ells off the stern, the dark sea seemed to hump up. Then Kadiya and Tolo saw the water broken by a formless gigantic shape that gleamed in the light of the Three Moons. Higher and higher it rose, taking on a smooth elongate form with a rounded top, until it towered far above the poop deck, being nearly half as high as the trireme’s mizzenmast and more than seven ells wide. At first, Kadiya thought it must be some undersea eruption of volcanic rock thrust skyward—but then she saw two scarlet-glowing orbs down near the water’s broken surface and realized that they were eyes.
“It’s the sea-monster,” Tolo said with sour satisfaction, “just like Ralabun said. He’ll probably eat everybody on the pirate ship, then come and eat us.”
“Be silent, little squit,” Kadiya said. “The sorcerer has summoned this thing to retrieve my talisman! O Lords of the Air, forfend!”
“Great Heldo!” Portolanus intoned. “Take this instrument”—he pointed to the shovel dangling from the crane—“and prepare to do my bidding.”
The creature called Heldo tipped back, and from out of the water emerged four enormous tentacles that coiled and stretched. Tusklike appendages glistened at their tips and their undersides were strangely fringed, dripping myriad sparkling droplets. Heldo then uttered an eerie trumpeting cry unlike anything Kadiya had ever heard. The awful sound seemed to paralyze her, and she even forgot to tread water until Tolo cried out that they were sinking.
“Take the instrument!” Portolanus ordered once more. And finally, with great delicacy, one of the writhing tentacles gripped the wide shovel and removed it from the hook. Another tentacle hovered above Portolanus, and still another menaced the two pirates at the crane, who screeched at the sight of it and fled down the steps and onto the main deck, leaving the sorcerer and his three immobile Voices alone.
“Now attend me, Heldo! You will be freed from the spell that binds you as soon as you do me one small service. Directly beneath this ship is a magical device that looks like a dark pointless sword with a three-lobed pommel. It glows green in the depths. Find this thing, and lift it carefully to the surface with the instrument I have furnished you. Do not touch the magical sword with your own flesh, or it will kill you! Do you understand?”
Heldo trumpeted.
Portolanus now knelt and opened the star-box. “When you have secured the sword, put it into this box. After you have done this, I will release you. Now go!”
There was a tremendous splash that set the trireme lurching, and the monster disappeared.
Kadiya groaned. “O God, let it not happen! Haramis! Anigel! Hear me and help me! Beseech the Triune to return my Three-Lobed Burning Eye to me! Let it not fall into the sorcerer’s hands—”
The sea surged again and luminescent foam was thrown in all directions as Heldo shot up again to the surface, one tentacle high against the sky. At its tip, balanced on the shovel’s wide blade, something shone like a long and luminous emerald. The tentacle holding it swooped toward the ship and Kadiya wailed:
“No! No! Come to me, talisman! You belong to me!”
The star-eyed figure of the sorcerer stood waiting. A great stillness now filled the night as the waves subsided about the monster and Kadiya’s anguished cry faded away. The green-glowing talisman seemed to detach itself from the tentacle-tip and fall as slowly as a feather drifting.
“Come to me,” Kadiya whispered, tears streaming down her face. She lifted one hand out of the water in supplication.
At the stern of the pirate ship a brief golden spark flared. Kadiya heard the voice of Portolanus utter a surprised oath—and then there was a sharp clang signaling the fall of the Three-Lobed Burning Eye into the unbonding box of the Vanished Ones. Portolanus’s voice changed to a crow of triumph.
But Kadiya held in her hand a piece of glowing amber, and in her mind she seemed to hear a familiar voice, an almost forgotten memory drawn from the remote past:
Years come and go with speed. That which is lofty may fall, that which is cherished may be lost, that which is hidden must, in time, be revealed. And yet I tell you that all will be well … But now you must flee, Petal of the Living Trillium, and gain the land before the sorcerer realizes what has happened and wreaks his vengeance upon you. Make haste! Swim for your life and beseech your amulet’s aid!
Her amulet … she had worn it all her life until it had flown away from her to embed itself in her talisman. And now it had come back to her. But its magic was a puny thing compared with that of the Three-Lobed Burning Eye—
Swim!
The command in her mind jolted her back to the clear and present danger. Gripping the warm amber tightly, Kadiya struck out for the island shore. “Hang on, Tolo!” she cried.
Behind her, a tall form wavered behind the trireme. Kadiya thought at first that it was Heldo, but then she realized that the sea-monster had submerged, and this thing was much taller and thinner, a black silhouette outlined against the sky like a titanic, swaying snake. Clouds came racing from nowhere to shroud the Moons and the stars. A deep crimson bolt of lightning flashed briefly, followed by a mutter of thunder. Portolanus was once again commanding the storm, probably to drive Heldo away, and the trireme tossed like a toy on the suddenly troubled waters. She felt a gust of strong wind. Tolo began crying, and there was now also a keen buzzing sound in the air that grew rapidly in intensity. Kadiya finally realized what the sorcerer had done.
He had created another great waterspout, and by chance it was rushing directly toward them.
“Black Trillium, be thou my rescuer!” she cried, closing her eyes. She clutched one of Tolo’s spindly wrists in one hand and the amulet in the other. In an instant she and the child were engulfed and flung helter-skelter, but the flood that enveloped them had no wetness and the dark did not snatch their life’s breath. Over and over they tumbled, helpless as leaves in a torrent, until they came to rest with shocking suddenness. Tolo’s arms loosed from Kadiya’s neck, and he fell away softly moaning.
They sat on wet sand in the midst of a deluge.
On Council Isle.
Rain mixed with salt water poured down on them as if the sluice-gates of heaven had been opened. There were even a few unfortunate fishes falling from the sky in the aftermath of the watery tornado. It was impossible to see anything out to sea, where giant waves were leaping skyward and newborn surf crashed on the shore. Almost continuous lightning and thunder smote Kadiya’s senses. She had wit enough left only to hold tight to the shivering little boy as they huddled together in the roaring downpour.
A sturdy dwarfish figure came hurrying toward them from a madly tossing grove of lown-trees. At first she thought that, by some miracle of the Flower, Jagun had been sent to help her. But when the aborigine approached, she saw that he belonged to a race of Folk unknown to her, with more humanoid features than the broad-faced, wide-mouthed Nyssomu possessed, and a more powerful body clad in the heavy garb of a northerner.
“Come quickly with me!” the little man shouted above the tempest. “There are cruel natives hereabouts who will surely capture you if you stay on the open beach.”
Kadiya struggled to her feet, fighting against the muddle of fatigue and confusion clogging her brain. The aborigine swept up Tolo in strong arms and they all dashed for the shelter of the grove. Moments later the three of them plunged into the heavy undergrowth, and fel
l gasping beneath the huge leaves of a sprawling island shrub.
“There are two other human children in dire jeopardy near this place,” the aborigine said, when he had caught his breath. “I saw them only a short time ago, staked out on the ground in preparation for some terrible torture. Being alone, and the natives many, I did not know how to save the poor young things. I hid away in here. But now that you have come, perhaps we can work out something together.”
“Niki and Jan!” Kadiya exclaimed. “In the hands of the Aliansa! Merciful God, what are we to do?…” And for some time she could only sit motionless, trying to marshal her body’s flagging resources. Finally, she said: “My friend, the captives are my niece and nephew, of the royal family of Laboruwenda. I bless you for offering to help save them … But how is it that you are here? I see from your dress that you are not native to the Windlorn Isles.”
The little man’s inhuman eyes shone faintly, and Kadiya’s amber amulet also gave off a discreet golden light. Prince Tolivar was silent, his head resting on Kadiya’s breast and his eyes wide open.
“So these are the Windlorn Isles, are they?” The aborigine shook his head. “And where might they be?”
“In the far Southern Sea, below Zinora,” Kadiya said.
“Ah. That still tells me little, for I have heard neither of the Sea nor of this Zinora. I was whisked here in the blink of an eye through a magical viaduct. A strange voice said I would go where I was needed—and thus I came here!”
“Who are you, and what Folk are your kin?”
“My name is Shiki. I was once a simple mountain guide and hunter of the Dorok tribe of Tuzamen—but recently I entered the service of the Archimage Haramis.”
“She is my sister! I am Kadiya, called by some the Lady of the Eyes. The Archimage has truly sent you where you were needed, Shiki!…”
She looked down at little Tolivar, whose frail body was shivering from shock and the sudden chill caused by the magical storm. Without a word, Shiki took off his heavy fur-trimmed jacket and wrapped the boy in it. The rain was still pelting down, but not much of it penetrated the shelter of the overhanging leaves.
“Tolo, will you remain here and behave yourself while we go after your sister and brother?” Kadiya was stern. “There must be no more silliness, or you may endanger our lives. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Aunt,” the boy whispered meekly.
“Good.” Kadiya felt her strength returning. There was no time to waste. She plucked a wiry vine and began to strip off its foliage, and then she strung the amulet of trillium-amber upon it and tied it around her neck. She drew her small dagger and honed it briefly against the back of its sheath, and used her kerchief to tie back her dripping hair.
“Now I am ready,” she said to Shiki. “Lead me to where the children are being held, and we will do our best to rescue them.”
The aborigine beckoned, and the two of them crept off into the rain.
14
The waterspouts disappeared and the trireme rode steadily again, even though the storm continued unabated. The magical tempests of Portolanus were quick in the summoning but took rather longer to dissipate. The jubilant sorcerer revived his three Voices and led them to his large stateroom, taking along the star-box with the Three-Lobed Burning Eye safely enclosed.
After speaking a suitable incantation, the sorcerer opened the box and permitted the awestruck acolytes to gaze upon the great treasure, which still sparkled with drops of salt water and had a strand of seaweed draped over it.
“Is it safe to touch, Master?” the Yellow Voice asked.
“Not yet. I must perform a certain ritual, using those colored things inside the star-box’s corner. Then the talisman will be bonded to me and I can safely wield it.” Even as he spoke his fingers danced over the gemlike appurtenances. A series of gentle musical notes sounded and the jewels within the box gleamed brightly. Then all of the little gems darkened and Portolanus lifted the talisman.
“Ah!” cried the Voices.
“Now the Three-Lobed Burning Eye is cleaved to my body and soul,” the sorcerer proclaimed. “No other beings may touch it without my permission, lest they perish in flame!”
“What magical deeds will the talisman do, Master?” inquired the Purple Voice eagerly.
“It will smite mine enemies, grant me Sight and clairaudience without my having to drain your long-suffering brains, and share with me arcane knowledge that will help me become ruler of the world … once I fully understand its secret operation.”
The Voices once again exclaimed in wonderment.
“I grant you three Voices of mine permission to touch the talisman without harm to yourselves,” Portolanus went on. “This permission lasts until I revoke it—or until you renounce your loyalty to me.”
“We never will do that!” the Black Voice asserted, and the others were quick to concur.
“You understand, my Voices, that by yourselves you will be unable to command the talisman. But I, working through you, will be able to do so just as I can speak and hear through you from afar.”
The Black Voice, now bending over to study the talisman more closely, pointed to a depression where the three dark lobes of the sword’s pommel met. “Master, it seems that some object might have once been inset there. A jewel, perhaps?”
Portolanus cried out like a man stabbed. “The trillium amulet! It’s gone! Now I know what caused the golden spark to soar away whilst Heldo still carried it! The amulet has returned to its owner!”
And he cursed Kadiya most foully and also cursed the Dark Powers, while the three acolytes fell back in confusion. Then, regaining his composure somewhat, he murmured: “Perhaps the loss of the trillium-amber will make no difference to the talisman’s operation. Or perhaps—”
His face changed abruptly and now bore a look of great excitement. He lifted from out of his robes the battered and blackened star that always hung about his neck on a platinum chain. “Perhaps …” he repeated softly, and brought the talisman’s pommel close to the pendant.
Each of the three dark lobes seemed to split open, revealing large and gleaming eyes. One was the golden-yellow eye of the Folk, one was brown and quite human, and the third was a peculiar silvery blue with a golden spark in its depths, like unto Portolanus’s own eyes.
The talisman seemed to glare at the dangling, dingy, many-rayed star. Then there was a bright burst of light, and an instant later the pendant was nestled securely among the three lobes of the pommel, now as shiny and perfect as when it had been first given to its owner long years ago by an aged sorcerer named Bondanus of Tuzamen.
“Glory be to the Dark Powers!” Portolanus exulted. “Now, talisman, you are truly mine own!”
I am truly your own.
The sorcerer was laughing with full-throated glee as he gripped the talisman by its hilt and waved it about his head. His guise of age and decrepitude fell away completely and he stood tall and vigorous, with a face that was seamed by hardship but comely withal, and hair and beard shining white. He cried out: “Did you hear? Did you hear the talisman speak?”
“No, Master,” the Voices admitted.
“It says that it belongs to me! To me!… Talisman! Show me that arrogant bitch, Kadiya.”
Obediently, a vision filled his mind showing the Lady of the Eyes and an unknown aborigine creeping through a rain-lashed forest.
“Hah! She has gone ashore, and now doubtless seeks to incite the local savages against us … Yellow Voice! Hasten to Admiral Jorot and command him in my name to up anchor and rouse the oarsmen. We must be away from this hostile island immediately. Tell him that I will send later what course to follow in order to rendezvous with our other ships.”
When the Yellow Voice had gone, Portolanus bade the talisman: “Now show me exactly where on the island Kadiya is.”
He beheld a bird’s-eye view of Council Isle, and upon it was a shining white dot near the main village of the Aliansa.
“It is as I thought. Now show me whe
re Queen Anigel is, and then permit me to view her.”
He saw again the Sight of the island, and this time the glowing dot was out in the small inlet just north of the larger bay where the Raktumian trireme lay at anchor. Then the vision changed to one of Anigel standing calmly in the bows of her little ship, her own talisman on her head and her eyes seeming to be fixed upon his own.
“Yes, I know you are watching me, Portolanus,” said she, “for all that you cloud your form from my Sight. I saw how you stole Kadiya’s talisman with the help of the sea-creature, and how you bonded the Three-Lobed Burning Eye to yourself. But even in spite of this, you will not prevail.”
“Ho! We will see how bravely you talk when your husband and your children are put to the torture before your eyes! Your own talisman is now forfeit, proud Queen, and if you do not set it adrift in a small boat at once, I will have the pirates begin their dainty work on your loved ones.”
Anigel wore a peculiar smile. “Will you indeed!” And she vanished.
Puzzled by her seeming callousness, Portolanus tried to resummon the vision of her; but the bow of her small ship now appeared to be empty. No doubt her talisman was concealing her from his Sight, just as he was hidden from hers. Well, it did not matter what games she was playing.
“Purple Voice! Go to the pirate Quartermaster and have him bring the royal urchins to the grand saloon under guard. We will see how firm the Queen’s resolution remains when her son’s fingers are severed, one by one, and the tender toes of her daughter are dipped into a brazier of hot coals.”