“You think a lot of yourselves,” Kayl said. Javieri’s argument had a certain appeal, but she was careful not to show it.
“Have you no unanswered questions of your own about the Twisted Tower?” Mika said quietly. “No doubts or suspicions about what happened there, even after what happened at the meeting yesterday?”
Kayl hesitated. “You have a good point,” she acknowledged. Better than the Elder Mothers knew, but Kayl had promised Glyndon not to speak of the false memory without discussing it with him first. “But I doubt that your arguments will persuade Glyndon to help, even if you manage to convince me.”
“But if there is a way to stop his visions?” Javieri said softly. “That would persuade him, I think.”
Kayl stared, her thoughts in chaos. If it were possible to free Glyndon from his random fits of seeing, could she deny him that chance? She knew the answer as soon as the question phrased itself in her mind, and again she turned the conversation. “Barthelmy has agreed to go?”
“Yes. I believe she always intended to.” Javieri gave Kayl a sidelong look. “I also will be going.”
“We don’t expect you to make a decision quickly, Kayl,” Elder Mother Mika said. “For one thing, I expect you’ll want a chance to look at this first.” She nodded to Javieri.
Javieri reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a scroll, tied with a silver ribbon. She offered it to Kayl.
Reluctantly, Kayl took it. “The Ri Astar Diary?” she asked.
Mika nodded. “A copy only. You’ll find a report at the end explaining the reasons for our conclusions, and giving details of the proposed expedition. We have another for your friend Glyndon.”
“I’ll deliver it for you,” Kayl said. “Glyndon tends to sleep late.”
Javieri handed her a second scroll. Kayl stared down at the two rolls of parchment in her hands. She felt suddenly guilty for keeping her own knowledge secret; the crystal in her sash dug into her waist. She opened her mouth to tell them.
“No. Do not make this decision on impulse,” Mika said. “Wait until you have read the scrolls and thought about them, before you tell us yes or no.”
Kayl stared in momentary confusion, then realized that Mika had jumped to a mistaken conclusion about what she had been about to say. Her advice was still good, though; Kayl nodded.
“We’ll send someone for your answer tomorrow,” Mika went on. “Or would you prefer to have more time?”
“Tomorrow will be fine.”
“Good. Then we’ll be leaving; I expect you’re eager to look at those.”
The Elder Mothers started to rise, but Kayl waved them back to their seats. “There’s something else you should know before you leave. Dara—my daughter—was stopped yesterday by a man in a green cloak who asked a lot of questions about the Star Hall.”
Mika’s eyes narrowed. “Tell us the whole story, if you please.”
Rapidly, Kayl summarized the incident and repeated the description Dara had given her. “I may be overanxious,” she finished, “but I’d feel better if I knew who he was, what he wanted and why. And if I were sure he wasn’t going to be a danger to my children.”
“I think you’re right to worry,” Javieri said. “This isn’t the only odd encounter someone’s had recently. It’s time they were investigated.” Her eyes were challenging as she looked at Mika.
Mika sighed. “I’m afraid you’re right. It will take Sisters away from other urgent tasks, but it must be done. I’ll see to it as soon as we get back.”
“Thank you,” Kayl said. She walked to the door with them, then went back to the table and sat down. She did not immediately open the scroll Mika had given her. Instead she sat staring into the fire.
The proposed trip to the Twisted Tower would be long and hard, and Kayl knew all too well the dangers that lay at its end. The trip could also be a chance to return to the things Kayl had loved most about her years in the Sisterhood, and it was tempting to concentrate on that. Tempting; but foolish. This trip could never be like old times. Varevice and Evla were dead; the younger, brasher Kayl and Barthelmy had grown and changed. None of them could go back, not really. Kayl realized suddenly that she did not even want to try. She had followed an old dream to Kith Alunel, only to find she had outgrown it; she no longer belonged with the Sisterhood, any more than she belonged in Copeham. If she decided to go to the Twisted Tower now, it would be for Glyndon’s sake, not for the Sisterhood.
Slowly, Kayl picked up one of the scrolls and slid it out of its ribbon. Unsmiling, she unrolled the top of the scroll and began to read.
The first part of the Ri Astar Diary was a long-winded description of Shandel ri Astar’s escape from Sadortha just before the first of a series of attacks by the armies of the Shadow-born. Kayl skimmed until she found the first mention of the Twisted Tower, then backed up several inches and read more carefully.
Shandel ri Astar’s grandfather, one Timlin ri Astar, had apparently visited the Twisted Tower as a young man. The list of his companions on that venture read like a Minstrel’s roll of legends—Karinobra Dragonsdaughter, Philomel the Healer, Nevarra Treewoman and her cousin Taldor of Greykeep, the Minstrel Nerewind, Quain, Macarato Firesword… the list went on and on. Kayl wondered cynically whether Timlin had been exaggerating to impress his grandson or whether Shandel was exaggerating to impress his readers.
Timlin’s other claims might be questionable, but he had clearly been to the Twisted Tower at some time. The description of the valley and the Tower were vivid enough to make Kayl shiver. He and his companions, whoever they were, had fought and defeated the wizard of the Tower, then divided his belongings among themselves. Among the wizard’s possessions was a huge crystal cube called Gadeiron’s Crystal.
Kayl stopped and reread the section carefully. Gadeiron’s Crystal fit the description of the cube her Star Cluster had found in the Tower. She fingered the lump in her sash absently as she waded slowly through the archaic phrasing. Suddenly she stopped. “And they sealed the Tower with the power of the Crystal itself,” read the manuscript, “so that no evil might go out of the Tower and none might enter.”
Sealed with the power of the Crystal? What would happen to that seal if the Crystal were broken or chipped? Kayl thought of the black thing in the Tower, and felt cold. It was with effort that she kept her hands away from the knot in her sash. She had to speak to Glyndon about this, soon.
Quickly she scanned the remainder of the diary, but found nothing else of interest in Shandel’s account. She spent a little more time on the report at the end, noting that the explanation of the Elder Mothers had included an extremely detailed description of the proposed expedition. She was rerolling the scroll when she saw Glyndon coming down the stairs. She waved, and he came over to join her.
“Morning, Kayl. What have you got there?” he asked, nodding at the scrolls.
“A present from the Sisterhood,” Kayl said. “Here, this one’s yours. Take it up to your room and read it, right now.”
“What about my breakfast?” Glyndon said plaintively.
“I’ll bring it up to you,” Kayl said, taking his arm and steering him back toward the stairs. “Go on, get busy.”
“All right, all right. What is it, anyway?”
“The Ri Astar Diary.”
Glyndon’s eyes widened. He looked down at the scroll and swallowed hard. “I see. Don’t be too long with that breakfast.” He started up the stairs; by the time he reached the landing he was taking them two at a time. Kayl smiled and went to see about getting something to eat from the innkeeper.
Kayl had to knock twice at Glyndon’s door before the Varnan wizard answered. Finally, the door opened. “Oh, good, breakfast,” Glyndon said, and stepped aside to let her in.
“Have you found the part about the Tower and the Crystal yet?” Kayl asked as she entered. She set down the steaming bowl of porridge she was carrying and looked at Glyndon expectantly. “Yes.” He glanced at her, his expression ambiguous, then star
ted pacing along the side of the bed. “It wasn’t as much help as I’d hoped.”
“Sit down. You’re making me nervous,” Kayl said, and set a good example by dropping onto the wood footstool by the door.
Glyndon hesitated, then seated himself on the bed beside the half-unrolled scroll. “What did you have to promise them to get this?” he asked, fingering the edge of the parchment and carefully not looking in Kayl’s direction.
“Nothing,” Kayl said.
“Nothing?” Glyndon looked up in surprise. He gave her a searching look, then shook his head. “I don’t believe it. The Sisterhood would never give away a bargaining counter.”
“They’re hoping it will persuade us to go back to the Tower.”
“No,” Glyndon said in the exasperated tone of one repeating the obvious for the fourth time. “I told you, if you go back to the Tower, that thing will get out.”
“And if I don’t go back?” Kayl said slowly, groping for an idea that hovered just out of reach.
“I assume it will stay safely inside, where it belongs.”
“But do you know that?”
Glyndon looked up with an arrested expression. “What do you mean?”
“Did you read all the way to the end of the Tower section in the diary?”
“Not quite; I was studying the description of Gadeiron’s Crystal.”
Kayl rose and crossed to the other side of the bed. She leaned across and unrolled the scroll another handsbreadth, studied it for a moment, then pointed. “Look here.”
Glyndon bent over the scroll, and a wisp of his brown hair grazed Kayl’s arm. She moved away a little and stood looking down at the top of his head. At last he nodded and looked up. “Well?”
“According to the diary, they used the Crystal to seal the Tower.”
“Well, we knew there was something odd about the spells on the door. But I don’t see—” He broke off suddenly, his eyes widening.
Kayl said it anyway. “We took a chip out of that crystal.
“What effect might that have on the spells that seal the Tower?”
“I don’t know,” Glyndon said slowly. “If it was important to the spell that the cube be absolutely perfect… I don’t know.”
“But it might weaken the sealing spell. And if that’s what’s holding the black thing inside the Tower, it may get out eventually whether I go back or not.” And the main reason that remained for her reluctance to return to the Tower was her trust in Glyndon’s vision of the black thing’s escape.
“If it’s the guardian of the Crystal—”
“We don’t know that, either.” Kayl shook her head, willing him to see. “The diary doesn’t mention the black thing at all; it may have gotten trapped in the Tower later.”
Glyndon stared at her for a long time without speaking. “You’ve decided to go,” he said finally.
“I—” Kayl stopped, then nodded slowly. “I hadn’t realized it, but you’re right. I’m going.”
Glyndon closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Damn them,” he said softly. “Damn them and demons take their souls.”
“Glyndon! This is my decision, and believe me, I’m not doing it for the Sisterhood.”
“Why, then?”
Kayl hesitated. “I thought I just explained that.”
“To save all Lyra from the monstrous thing that lurks in the Tower?” Glyndon said with savage mockery.
“I can at least try,” Kayl replied, struggling to keep her temper. “We started something at the Twisted Tower; we ought to finish it.”
“Finish it? Your death will finish it.”
“You don’t know that,” Kayl said furiously, while part of her mind wondered at the bitterness in Glyndon’s voice and the unexpected strength of her own reaction to it. “And even if you did, it would still be my choice whether or not to go.”
Glyndon’s mouth twisted. He stared silently down at the half-unrolled scroll on the bed in front of him. “I’m sorry, Kayl,” he said finally, and his voice sounded tired. “I know better than to try and wrap you in fleece like that farmer in Copeham. So you’re going back to the Twisted Tower. When do you leave Kith Alunel?”
“That depends.” Kayl looked at him, wondering whether or not she had ruined her chances of persuading Glyndon to join the expedition. “Will you be coming with us?”
“I?” Glyndon snorted. “Kayl, you know the Sisterhood better than that. They’d never let a second-rate Varnan exile get involved with this, especially one half-crippled with false visions.” He smiled ruefully. “If there were more truth in what I ‘see’ you might have a chance of persuading them.”
Kayl stared at him. “Glyndon, weren’t you listening? The Sisterhood wants all of us, not just Barthelmy and me. Why do you think they sent you a copy of that scroll? They’re hoping to persuade you.”
Suddenly Glyndon laughed, but without humor. “I seem to have misjudged your Sisterhood. Perhaps I ought to apologize.”
“I think they’d rather have you come on the expedition.”
“Do you? Then I suppose I’ll make them happy.”
Kayl made an exasperated noise. “Does that mean you’ll come with us?”
“Yes,” Glyndon said without looking at her.
“I haven’t even told you what they have to offer you.”
Glyndon shrugged and said nothing. Kayl stared at him for a moment, and his words of a moment before echoed in her mind “… like that farmer in Copeham.” Very gently, she said, “They think they may find a way to control your visions.”
“I don’t think it’s possible,” Glyndon said without looking up. “But I’ll try it.”
“I’ll tell them when I visit the Star Hall this afternoon.” Kayl paused, studying him uncertainly. “Are you sure about this, Glyndon?”
He raised his head and gave her a crooked smile. “Someone has to be there to keep you out of trouble,” he said with attempted lightness.
“Oh?” Kayl tried to match his tone. “And I thought you’d just promised not to try wrapping me in fleece.”
“Did I say that?” He shook his head sadly. “And you’re such a fragile, helpless sort. I must be slipping.”
Kayl picked up the scroll and hit him with it.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
ELDER MOTHER MIKA WAS extremely pleased by the news that both Kayl and Glyndon were willing to undertake the expedition. Mark and Dara were pleased as well, until they discovered that Kayl intended to leave them behind. Mark sulked for nine days. Dara spent her time thinking up reasons why they ought to go with Kayl—they were seasoned travelers after the trip from Copeham; Kayl would need someone to help with day-to-day chores; they wanted Kayl to continue their lessons in swordcraft; they would pine away and die if they were left behind.
Kayl was not as firm about stopping the complaints as she might have been. For one thing, she had her own doubts about the wisdom of leaving the children in Kith Alunel. Elder Mother Mika promised to look after them, but the Sisterhood was not the place Kayl would have chosen for either Mark or Dara. Then, too, the incident of the green-cloaked man who had questioned Dara continued to make Kayl uneasy. Still, Kith Alunel would be safer for the children than a long, uncertain journey with the Twisted Tower and the black thing at the end of it.
The Star Hall’s preparations were time-consuming. It was soon clear, to Kayl at least, that the expedition would not be out of Kith Alunel before the winter storms arrived. That would mean at least another month’s delay; no one traveled during the storm season if it could be helped.
Kayl was not unhappy to be kept waiting, even though she was now committed to the project. She spent much of her time with her children, showing them the sights of Kith Alunel. And, as promised, she took them to the Frost Fair on the day it opened.
The weather was perfect for such an exhibition—cold and clear, with an icy blue winter sky hanging above the new snow. Tents and temporary booths filled the King’s Park, their bright colors a
vivid contrast to the snowy whiteness. A light breeze swept away the smoke that rose from the many braziers, and kept the banners and pennants fluttering above the tents.
Though they arrived early, the fair was already crowded. Kayl reminded the children to stay close to her or Glyndon, and Mark and Dara responded with the expected eye-rolling. Fortunately, the excitement of the fair quickly distracted them.
“Mother, look! Flame-jugglers!” Mark cried, pulling at Kayl’s cloak as though he were several years younger than he was. “This way!”
“No, over there!” Dara said. “There’s a conjurer’s sign!”
“Take it easy, both of you,” Kayl said, laughing in spite of herself. “We have all day. The conjurer first, I think.”
The conjurer was quite good; he even had a trick or two that smelled of true magic, rather than depending entirely on sleight-of-hand. Dara was wide-eyed through the entire performance, and Mark was nearly as interested, though he tried not to show it.
The flame-jugglers turned out to be even more impressive. The whirling brands seemed to leave fiery trails in the air, weaving intricate patterns of light. Dara did not even try to look uninterested; she was as fascinated as Mark.
When the juggling was over, Kayl took the children to a nearby booth selling a mixture of snow and berry juices that had always been one of Kayl’s favorite Frost Fair treats. The last time she had had one was the winter before the disastrous trip to the Twisted Tower. She and Barthelmy had dragged Evla to the Frost Fair for a belated celebration of Evla’s birthday.…
“This is good!” Dara said.
“My teeth freeze when I try to chew it,” Mark said.
“Try sort of scooping it up on your tongue and sucking,” Kayl advised.
Glyndon was eyeing his cupful dubiously. “It looks like purple slush,” he complained.
“I’ll take it if you don’t want it,” Mark volunteered hopefully.