“What does that mean?” Lyall asked.
Alondo sighed. “I wish I knew. This technology is beyond anything I’ve ever seen before. Most of these components–I can’t even guess at their function… I think this orange object is a power source of some kind but if it is, no power is getting to the rest of the mechanism. There could be various reasons for that.” Lyall looked confused. Alondo reached over into his pack and drew out his water bottle, holding it up. “If my water bottle is empty, it could be because I drank all the water or it could be because there’s a hole in it.”
“So what you’re saying is that it could be damaged, or just out of power.”
Alondo nodded vigorously. “Exactly.” He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them, scrutinizing the circular machine once more, as if challenging it to give up its secrets. This was the other side of Alondo. One was the carefree musician, the joker who kept others’ spirits up. The other was the natural engineer, the mechanical genius who could do anything from repairing a flying cloak to building the amazing vortex arm that he carried.
“I think the device stores energy, which it uses up when the woman from the past communicates with us. That energy may be transferred by the link itself. Our best option may simply be to wait till the next appointed contact and see what happens.” When he looked up at Lyall and Shann once more, he had his familiar grin. “Maybe next time you talk to Annata, you could ask her for an instruction book or a plan diagram for this thing?”
“The optimist of the group,” Lyall commented. “You’re assuming it works at all.”
Lyall suddenly noticed that Shann was very quiet. He stole a glance at the slim, dark haired girl. Her face was like a thunderhead. She strode away without uttering a word. Alondo looked up at him questioningly. Lyall raised his hand in a leave it to me gesture.
He followed her to where a tiny fumarole hissed and sputtered like a spiteful animal. They were a short distance from the canyon wall, where Lyall had declared a rest period following their tortuous descent into Kharthrun. Heat shone forth from the yellow and white suns far above. The floor of the canyon stretched off into the distance before being obscured by clouds of rising smoke and steam.
She had her back to him as he walked up behind her. “Shann, what’s wrong?”
“She broke it.” Shann’s voice sounded choked.
“We don’t know that,” Lyall reasoned. “You heard Alondo. It might simply be out of power.”
Shann was still facing away from him. “She planned this all along. She wants to destroy the machine and us.”
Lyall wanted to take her by the shoulders and turn her round to force eye contact. He hung back instead. “I can’t see that makes sense, Shann. Why would she bring us the machine and then try to destroy it?”
“I…I don’t know. Maybe…maybe she doesn’t want us to hear what Annata is going to say next? Annata said the instrument she is directing us to is dangerous and powerful. Maybe Keris wants that power for herself?”
Lyall shook his head. “That’s no more than speculation, Shann…You know, I’ve been thinking about it. Apart from the one time when you saw her using her Ring out on the Eastern Plains, every other piece of evidence against her is circumstantial. She keeps to herself, she isn’t always good with people and she disappears off into the night on her own, but those things don’t make her guilty. The truth is that without her help and expertise earlier today, we wouldn’t be here now. I think there is definitely something going on with her, but I wonder if we are misreading the signals somehow. Are you absolutely sure you saw her using the Ring?”
Shann rounded on him. Her thin face was streaked with tears. “I know what I saw.” He reached out to her, but she pulled away. “You don’t see it, do you? You don’t see what she’s doing to us?” She pushed past him and stormed back towards the others. “I’m going to show you. I’m going to show you, right now.”
Lyall started to trot after her. “Shann, stop... Shann, come back here.” The girl did not turn or hesitate. Instead, she made a beeline for the place where Keris sat alone, checking and servicing the mechanism of her flying cloak. The tall woman looked up as she saw Shann approaching. She put aside her work and stood, her stately form towering over the diminutive girl. Whatever Keris was hiding, Lyall knew that she would have to be confronted about it eventually. Now that the moment had arrived, he was shocked to find that he was no longer in control. He could do no more than watch helplessly as the two women faced each other amid the rising smoke and steam and the rumbling fury of the Fire Pits.
Shann’s arms were straight down at her sides. Her face was a mask of rage. “You destroyed it on purpose.”
Keris frowned. “What are you talking about, child?”
“The machine,” Shann spat. “You kicked it off the ledge. You destroyed it.”
Keris looked at Lyall with an annoyed expression, then back at Shann. “That was an accident.”
The girl stood her ground. “No, it wasn’t. You’re working with the Prophet and his people. You’ve been speaking to them through the Ring.”
Keris’ face changed to one of shock. “What?”
“I saw you.”
Alondo and Boxx hurried over, drawn by the sounds of confrontation. They stood off at a respectful distance, watching the drama unfold. Lyall could see Boxx’s head moving rapidly up and down in an agitated fashion. “The Key, The Key…,” it was squeaking in its shrill voice. Lyall blotted out the Chandara from his mind. He did not have the time to deal with its banter. I have to defuse this situation right now.
“Shann, that’s enough,” Lyall intervened. “I’m sorry, Keris. She’s confused and upset. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
Shann turned towards Lyall, her eyes blazing. “I’m not confused. I know what I saw.”
Lyall reached out his hand. “Shann, come along.”
“No. She’s been talking to her masters in Chalimar all along. She sold us out. Ask her if you don’t believe me. Go ahead, ask her.”
“That’s enough, Shann.” Lyall’s tone was insistent. “Come with me now, please.”
“The girl is correct.” Silence fell as all eyes turned towards Keris. The tall woman’s eyes dropped beneath their stares and then rose once more to settle on each of them. “I did talk to Mordal using the Ring, but not for the reason you think,” she paused, “Deep down Mordal is…was a man of principle. I had the thought that if I could explain things to him–convince him that all Kelanni were threatened by the Prophet’s plans–then he might call off the pursuit and become an ally. As it turned out, I…was wrong.”
“Why did you not tell us what you were doing?” Lyall demanded.
“Because I was afraid of exactly this reaction. I am not stupid. I am aware that you view me with suspicion.” Keris’ eyes settled on Shann, who immediately looked away. “But I was a Keltar for many years. I figured that the Prophet’s men would Ring ahead and set an ambush for us somewhere in the Distrada.”
“What made you think that?” Lyall asked.
Keris harrumphed. “Because it’s exactly what I would do in their place. The Distrada has been hit hard by the Keltar and the Prophet has many enemies there, but he also has allies, people who are drawn by power and the opportunities it presents. That’s one reason why I suggested travelling through Kharthrun instead of taking the usual route to Sakara. It’s also why I agreed to meet up with him in the Gilah, but instead of coming to look at the evidence, he tried to make me go back with him. We fought and he was killed. It was a mistake.”
Lyall’s face was dark. “Yes it was. You realise how this looks.”
“Yes, and I’m sorry for that. I have no way of proving any of this. I should have confided in you all, but… over the years, I have become accustomed to working alone. It is a difficult habit to break.” Keris stiffened. “If you wish me to withdraw from your company, I will understand.”
There was an awkward silence. It was Lyall who fina
lly broke it. “Do you wish to be a part of this group?”
“Yes,” she replied. Then she added, “If you will have me.”
“Then I require your solemn oath that you will never attempt anything like this on your own again.”
As the others looked on, Keris drew herself erect. “I swear.”
Lyall nodded once. “Very well, then. The matter is closed.” He turned slowly and walked away.
Shann ran past him and stood in his path with her feet squarely planted on the pitted volcanic rock, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Her features were screwed up and her fists were clenched at her sides. “So that’s it?”
“That’s it, Shann.
“But you heard her. She lied to us. She’s been lying to us all along. How can you just let her off?”
“Because I believe everyone deserves a second chance.”
~
Mevan lit the oil lamp and closed the small glass panel. Yellow effulgence slowly filled the little croft, banishing the shadows to their dark corners. He placed the lamp down on a small table and settled himself on to a stool which lay next to the open hearth, to await his night visitor. His dark, lank hair lay flat against his back and the lamplight cast his tanned features in sharp relief.
At length there was a single rap on the door. A tall figure entered without waiting for permission and closed the door behind him. The figure strode over the rough wooden floor to stand before Mevan. Mevan gestured towards another stool. The visitor responded by pulling up the stool to sit opposite him. “Good evening, Mevan. It has been many days.”
“Indeed it has, Lord Saccath. Your duties carry you far from Chalimar, I see.” Saccath was clad in simple serge coat and black trousers such as a trader might wear. Clearly this was not an “official” visit. He did not wish to be identified as Keltar.
“I am actually on something of a private mission,” Saccath confided. “Did you encounter the fugitive band?”
Mevan nodded. “They arrived here, just as you predicted. They had a Chandara with them, of all things. I attempted to turn them away with a view to encountering them later on the road, where there would be no witnesses. Unfortunately, that fool Ernan intervened. He gave them shelter and supplies and conducted them personally to the Fire Pits.”
Saccath leaned forward. “They went down into the Pits?”
“It is true, I swear.”
Saccath put his hand to his chin, deep in thought. The cragginess of his face appeared exaggerated by light and shadow. Finally, Mevan broke in. “I’m sorry; there was no opportunity for me and my men to intercept them.”
Saccath roused himself from his deliberations. “Do not concern yourself. They will be taken care of.”
“You are not going down into the Pits after them, surely?” Mevan protested. “I lost my own brother to the Pits. They are too dangerous for any right-minded person.”
Saccath smiled thinly. “Your concern for me is touching, Mevan, but I assure you that I have no intention of chasing them all the way down there. There is no need. I am quite sure that the denizens of Kharthrun will deal with the insurgents most effectively. And in the unlikely event that any of them do survive to reach Sakara, I will be arriving there to ensure that that is the end of their journey.”
Saccath stood up. “Once again, your loyalty and service to the Prophet’s cause have proven valuable. I think that the village of Pinnar would benefit from a new headman, someone with the vision and commitment to secure the peaceful cooperation of the people. I will speak to the authorities at the keep upon my return.”
Mevan got to his feet and bowed low. “I appreciate your faith in me, sire.” As he watched Saccath turn to leave, he permitted himself a smile of grim satisfaction.
Chapter 23
The Fire Pits insinuated themselves on Shann’s senses like an all-enveloping beast with sinews of smoke and steam. Sulphur and soot stung her eyes, invaded her nostrils and left her with a foul taste in her mouth.
They were roped together once more, as a safeguard against the hazards of the Pits, Lyall had explained. The farther they travelled into the depths of Kharthrun, the more she could see the wisdom of that precaution. It seemed as if every step were fraught with potential danger.
In places, the ground over which they walked was little more than a thin crust of hard white residue that crunched beneath her boots. There was no way to tell how thick–or how thin–the crust was. One good reason for the ropes.
They passed along trails between pools of boiling mud in shades of pink and orange. Shann watched in fascination as the mud slowly bubbled and popped, like an overly thick soup. Lyall placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get too close, Shann.” She nodded and they resumed their passage through this chimerical world.
Plumes of steam emanated from conical vents or fractures in the ground, drifting over the landscape like fog. Every now and then, jets of boiling water were ejected into the air from raised pools, only to die back moments later to form a bubbling, angry cauldron. It was both spectacular and frightening at the same time.
Columns of basalt rose up from the canyon floor, forming winding gaps and small twisting valleys to confound their path. Shann quickly found that after she had been turned around several times in this way, she had had no idea in which direction they were headed. It was Keris who kept them on track both by continually checking the directional lodestone she carried and by using the flying cloak to determine their bearings. After the incident two days ago, when Shann had forced the confession out of her, Keris’ position within the group had changed. Now she was out in front, leading the way, her detached arrogance replaced by settled assurance as she consulted her lodestone device and pointed confidently. “This way.” Shann was reluctantly forced to admit that without her direction, they would probably end up totally lost, condemned to wander endlessly in the ever-shifting clouds of steam. Clearly, Ernan had not been exaggerating when he said that most of those who ventured into this place never made it out again.
They were skirting an emerald green thermal pool, edged by shades of yellow and red, when Shann saw a movement out of the corner of her eye–a dark shape slipping through the water. A fish? She stopped without warning, pulling Lyall to a halt on the tether, and almost causing Alondo to bump into her.
Lyall walked back to her position. “What’s up?”
“Look,” Shann pointed into the water. She could now see sleek shapes of various sizes, all covered by what looked like thick scales. Thin wisps of steam were drifting over the glassy surface. “How do they survive in there with the water near to boiling? They would cook, surely.”
By this time Keris had doubled back to investigate the disturbance. She followed their eyes. “Fish–so what?”
“What kind are they?” Lyall asked.
“I don’t know. I’m not a fish expert–why, are you hungry?”
“No, it’s just–” Shann began.
“Then let’s move on, shall we?” Keris strode off without waiting for anyone’s agreement.
“I was just curious,” Shann protested.
Lyall offered her a smile by way of compensation. “Don’t worry about it, Shann; although she does have a point. Out here, curiosity can be fatal.”
As their journey across the vast canyon floor continued, Shann saw other creatures, the likes of which she had never seen before. The fact that anything could survive in these conditions, let alone thrive, was a testament to the adaptability and tenacity of life.
There was a black thing that looked like a snake with both ends joined up, flexing its way over the ground in the shape of a figure eight.
A little farther on, a balloon-shaped creature an arm’s length in diameter floated lazily over a thermal vent. It was dull orange in colour with black mottling. As it rotated, Shann counted four evenly spaced eyes, although she could not see a mouth. It looked like a much larger version of the foul smelling ball she had encountered in the Gilah.
Shann could not r
esist. She ran forward and tapped Lyall on the shoulder. “What is it?”
“I think it’s a variety of maralah,” Lyall speculated, “although I confess I have never seen one anything like that size before. Maybe they are suited to the heat of the Pits?” Shann kept her eyes fixed on the balloon as they passed. It bobbed up and down over the vent and continued turning slowly, oblivious to their presence.
Eventually, they reached a level rock platform. “The suns will be setting soon,” Lyall observed. “I think we should make camp here.”
Shann untied herself from the rope and gratefully flopped down where she was.
Keris held out the lodestone device in her outstretched hand and turned slowly, checking her observations. “We are making good time,” she announced, “better than I hoped. We should reach the eastern rim as early as tomorrow. There is an easier route out of the Pits on that side.”
Shann sat back with her hands splayed against the rock and examined her surroundings. The flat rock was bounded on one side by a natural terrace of chalky white stone. In front of it, there was what looked like a deep depression in the ground. Shann got up and walked closer to get a better look. It was a large hole, a fissure which disappeared into the ground. She peered over the edge but could not see the bottom. The fuliginous interior seemed to draw her in.
She heard Lyall’s voice behind her. “Don’t get too close.”
Shann tore her eyes away and turned to re-join the others. Keris was standing next to Lyall. She still wore the ebon tunic, trousers and flying cloak of a Keltar. You look the part. As Shann approached, she heard the woman make a curt remark before turning on her heel. Shann glared at Keris’ receding back for a moment and then made eye contact with Lyall.
He raised one eyebrow. “You two are going to have to learn to get on, you know.”
Shann made a sound in her throat. “She doesn’t get on with anyone. I can’t believe you swallowed her story like a piece of rotten raleketh meat.”
“I didn’t ‘swallow’ it, Shann. I told you: I merely gave her a second chance.”
“You think she deserves a second chance? What about all the things she did when she was a Keltar? Have you asked her how many people she killed?” Or how many parents she ripped away from their children?