“Elspeth!” Merret sent. The urgency in her tone made my heart falter.
“What is happening? Where are you?” I demanded.
“I am still in Followtown; that’s what this wretched barrier settlement calls itself. The stench and poverty and sheer squalor are appalling.”
“What is happening across the river?” I asked tersely.
“I am sorry. It is not much clearer than it was when I farsought Kader before, except that there are a lot more soldierguards and Hedra. And more of both arrive at every moment. There are also two of the outer-cadre Threes from the cloisters in Morganna and Aborium, and another from the Halfmoon Bay cloister, as well as a whole host of lesser priests and Councilmen with their entourages. There has been much argument and discussion about whether they should cross the river. They have been at it for hours now, and there is no sign of its letting up, though it is almost dawn. I only know as much as I do because they sent to Followtown for food and drink, and I coerced myself into being one of those to deliver it. From what I have been able to glean, the Threes oppose the Hedra’s desire to cross the Suggredoon, because no ships have come from Herder Isle or Norseland in days, and they are worried about what that means. But the Hedra can see their brethren fighting, and they are determined to go. The soldierguards would cross the water, too, for many of them fled Sutrium during the rebellion, and they are eager to regain what they lost; they are arguing that the Faction has no right or power to stop them. The Councilmen are caught between fear of the Faction and fear of alienating the soldierguards. So far, no decision has been made yet to cross and give aid to the other Hedra. But it is only a matter of time, and I am afraid that even a substantial delay might not help us.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Hedra across the river are winning. Just an hour ago, I saw two deadly skirmishes right on the bank. A troop of Hedra was pursuing one or two rebels, or ordinary Landfolk. They killed them both.”
“Have you seen anyone you recognize?” I asked Merret.
“No,” she said. “But I wonder if there can be anything left of Sutrium; it has burned for so long.”
“The rebels might have been driven out of Sutrium, but they will manage to set up a stronghold elsewhere,” I said, thinking what an irony it would be if the rebels had been forced to take refuge at Obernewtyn. It was a definite possibility for all the reasons that had made the mountain valley a perfect refuge for Misfits for so many years.
Merret said, “Elspeth, I have no doubt that the soldierguards will soon cross the river. When they do, the Hedra will go as well, because whatever their fears and reservations, the Threes will not want the Council to claim the Land in their absence. We cannot stop them, and we cannot help those on the other side of the river. We must seize control of this bank of the river. Some guards will definitely be left, but it will be a minimal force, and if we defeat them, we can prevent the return of the soldierguards and Hedra.”
“By we, you mean the rebels?” I asked.
“I mean we who oppose the Council and Faction,” Merret said sternly enough that it was a rebuke. “You must send someone to Gwynedd at once to let him know what is happening. I have no doubt he will realize this is an opportunity we dare not let slip, if the rebels have truly lost control of the other side of the river. We will need every rebel and rebel sympathizer he can muster, because we will eventually need to guard the entire length of the bank, just as the soldierguards have been doing, and we will need a force strong enough to repel any force sent against us from the cities or cloisters this side of the river.”
“Even if you are right, it will take Gwynedd a minimum of a twoday to muster up a force and get it to the river. From what you are saying, it sounds as if the Hedra and the soldierguards mean to cross at any minute,” I said.
“I know it,” Merret answered. “Which is why I have coerced a fellow and sent him to your Rolf. He seems a handy sort of man with a lot of friends. If he can muster a force of even thirty able-bodied people willing to fight, I think it will be enough. If ever there was a time for the people to rise in their own defense, this is it. As for me, I have already overcome two Hedra and a host of men in Followtown. I can use them in a fight. And remember, to begin with, neither Faction nor Council here or on the other side of the river will know what we have done for some time, if we are careful. That means no one this side of the river will interfere with us, and those on the other side who return can simply be taken captive and coerced. Which reminds me. I need at least two coercers to ride here at once, and if Ran can be persuaded to muster up a force, he might emulate Gahltha and the horses in Saithwold and come to our aid.”
I told Merret I would do all that I could and that I would farseek her again later. Then I withdrew. Orys looked pale, and I asked if he could bear to be used one more time.
“Of course, but I do not know how long I can hold it,” he said.
I nodded and entered his mind again. Turning my face to Murmroth, I shaped a probe to Alun’s mind and sent it out. I managed to reach him, but he was far away, and I could feel Orys struggling to keep his mind focused and connected to mine as I sent Merret’s message.
“Gwynedd will welcome the news,” Alun enthused. “But I have met one of Gwynedd’s outriders, and Gwynedd is not in Murmroth. He rode for Aborium as soon as Orys described what Merret saw at the river, to consult with the other rebels. He sent riders out to summon them. By my reckoning, he will be in Aborium now. I will tell him—” Orys’s strength failed, breaking the connection. My probe retracted with painful force, and I lowered my head, fighting waves of nausea and faintness, dimly registering that Orys had fallen to his knees and was retching violently.
“You can use me like you used him,” Pellis offered urgently.
I shook my head, in too much pain to explain why I could not muster a probe that would enable me to use him. Dizziness and fatigue made me sway on my feet.
“I … I need to rest, Pellis. I will walk a little and lie down in the sand,” I managed to say. “Keep watch until … Orys recovers, then … then help him down to tell … tell Dell what has happened.”
“But I … I don’t know—”
“Orys heard it all …,” I gasped, and turned to descend the steps on unsteady legs.
I set off through the dark ruins, knowing that I ought to return to the complex, but the thought of going along those closed corridors and down in the elevating chamber was too much. Besides, I suddenly, passionately, did not want to be under the earth. I lay down in the first sandy hollow I came to, drew my shawl over my face, and willed myself to sleep.
I dreamed of walking across a wide plain for long hours. The sun beat down on my unprotected head with painful force, and my thirst was terrible. I walked until, in the distance, I saw a line of mountains. Veering toward them, I prayed for a spring, but when I came closer, the mountains looked barren and bare. Clouds flowed like spilled black ink, covering the blue sky and the sun. The plain darkened under this devouring shadow, and then I saw that a light was flashing at the base of the mountains. I moved toward it, and gradually I realized that it was a signal.
When at last I reached the mountains, I saw that the light was coming from a dark tunnel. I entered it and heard the slow dripping of water into water. A female voice commanded me to stop.
“You must not enter this place,” said the soft, smooth voice. “It is forbidden.”
“Who are you?” I cried.
“I am INES,” said the voice.
I woke to find the sun not far above the horizon. The dawn light seemed oddly dull to me, but before I could do more than wonder idly at it, Rawen nuzzled me gently.
I sat up warily, surprised to find there was no pain. I asked Rawen how she had found me.
“The boy Pellis beastspoke the herd to ask if one of us would watch over you. I/Rawen freerunner said that I would come,” she answered. “I wakened you now because the funaga child/Pellis beastspoke me to say that the funaga/Orys wishes to f
arseek your mind.”
Remembering all that had happened before I slept, I farsought Orys, who immediately apologized for being unable to hold the probe.
“You were exhausted and you warned me,” I sent, surprised to find that his mind, like mine, was fresh and free of strain. But then I looked at the sun, understanding that what I had taken for dawn was dusk. I had slept the entire day away. I leapt to my feet, horrified.
“Do not be concerned, Guildmistress,” Orys farsent calmly. “I slept long, too, and I was worried when I wakened. But before I slept, Kader took from my mind the memories of what had happened. All that you asked was done and more besides. In truth, we were no use to anyone as we were.”
“Tell me what has been happening. Have the Faction and the soldierguards crossed the river?” I demanded, hastening back into the ruins, Rawen walking beside me. Out of courtesy, I left a probe in her mind so she could hear our exchange.
“They crossed about an hour after we spoke to Merret. She could not send a probe here to the ruins, of course. She contacted Kader, who had set off for Followtown to join her. Kader bounced the sending back to Jana, who had taken the watch. Merret told her that Rolf had sent word that he was gathering fighters, and while waiting for him, she coerced two more Hedra and made them overcome a senior soldierguard and strip the demon band off him. So he was coerced as well.”
“What is happening on the other side of the river?”
“Merret said that the fighting and the burning continue and that there have been a couple of explosions. In the end, the explosions made the Hedra decide to cross, for they claim the explosions are the result of their weapons,” Orys answered. “There has been no news since, though Jana tried, but Kader must be too far away for her now. That is why they need us. Oh, you should also know that Ran led a host of horses out soon after dawn, but they had not arrived when Merret farsought Kader and Jana.”
I had not seen Jana since my arrival in the ruins.
“She has been with Gwynedd,” Orys said, taking the thought as a question. “One of us is always with him. Alun took her place.”
“Has Alun sent word of Gwynedd’s response to all this?” I asked.
“Jana told us he was elated and more than eager to join Merret,” Orys sent. “But he saw the sense in Merret’s suggestions, and he has left her to take the riverbank as he sets about rousing a force to hold the river once it is won. Jana is about to ride after Kader, and Dell had Seely wake me and send me to wake you so we can use her to find out what is happening at the river.”
“I understand,” I said. So much had happened while I slept, and in truth I was somewhat indignant that I had been allowed to miss it all. But Orys was right in saying that he and I would have been useless. I suspected, however, that I had not been awakened because west coast Misfits had simply become accustomed to relying on themselves.
Rawen sent, “Do you wish me to carry you after the herd, ElspethInnle?”
She had scented my restlessness and desire to take some part in the unfolding events. It felt very strange to be on the fringe of what was happening. Part of me would have loved to leap on the mare’s back and ride to the Suggredoon, but it would take many hours to reach Followtown, and they had no real need of me. I could as easily learn what was happening by farseeking. A picture came into my mind of Domick as I had last seen him, plague-ravaged and anguished, and I shook my head.
“My place is here for the moment,” I told the mare, thanking her for her offer and for watching over me. She sent that she would return to what remained of the freerunning herd but bade me summon her if I needed a mount. Again I thanked her and then farsent to ask Orys where Jana was.
“She is below getting ready to go.”
“I will get her,” I said. “I want to check on Domick, in any case.”
I made my way to the entrance to the Beforetime complex’s lower levels. Reaching the elevating chamber, I suppressed my unease and went through the rituals I had seen the others do, pressing the appropriate bars of color. Cassy and the other Beforetimers had lived in a world surrounded by such devices as elevating chambers and flying vehicles, and I wondered how they had endured such complexity.
The elevating chamber stopped, and I stepped out into the passage and turned in the direction that Dell had brought me. I remembered we had turned left, then right, but I was startled to find myself in a passage that forked, for one way had a blue line on the floor.
Knowing I had definitely not come this way, I realized I must have made a mistake. I turned back with irritation, but before long, I found myself facing three passages, none of which I had ever set eyes on before. I was lost.
I retraced my steps, trying to farseek Jak or even Seely, because although it would be impossible to farseek between the building’s levels, the walls on each level were not so thick as to defy a probe. Only after I had tried six or seven times to no avail did the truth hit me. I had not just lost my way on the seventeenth floor; I had exited on the wrong level!
A chill ran through me as I thought of Dell explaining that they had not explored much of the thirty levels and only used three floors regularly. Mouth dry, I tried returning to the elevating chamber, but I had been so preoccupied that I could not recall my route with any accuracy. I cursed aloud, and the sound of my voice echoed eerily. I tried to control my alarm, but I became increasingly confused. I could feel myself beginning to panic in spite of the situation’s absurdity. Forcing myself to slow down and take a few long deep breaths, I reminded myself that it was only a matter of time before the others began to search for me, but I could not help thinking of the weight of dark earth over my head.
I had promised Orys to return. He must be wondering what had become of me, and the others would not think to search until he went down to ask where I was. He might not hasten to do so, given that I had told him I wanted to see Domick first.
I walked, praying I would simply happen on the elevating chamber again, but as the hours passed, I began to feel oppressed by the shining sameness of the long silent corridors with their vague light. I opened one door to find a cavernous room with a plast floor made to look like polished wood with thick white and green overlapping lines and circles drawn onto it. At either end of the room was a metal pole with a metal ring fixed to the top. I could not imagine what purpose they or the room could have served. When I opened a smaller door in the room, I was grateful to find a privy in a room containing several glass bathing boxes like the one in my sleeping chamber. I relieved myself and then managed to quench my thirst in the bathing chamber, at the price of a wetting.
Calmer now, though ravenously hungry, I went back to the passage and continued along it. Surely the others were searching for me, I told myself wearily; surely someone would guess what had happened and go from level to level, farseeking me at each.
Upon opening the door to a room contaning several computermachines, I realized that I had been a fool. Jak had said one only had to speak anywhere within the complex for Ines to hear. I could ask the computermachine to let the others know I was lost, or even tell me the way back to the elevating chamber.
“Ines, can you hear me?” I asked aloud.
“I hear,” came the pleasant female voice of my dream.
I expelled a long breath of air and said, “Ines, will you please direct me back to the elevating chamber?”
“Proceed in the direction you are walking; pass three corridors on your left, and then enter the fourth …”
As I progressed, the computermachine guiding me with marvelous calm competence, the voice asked, “What form of address would you prefer?”
I wanted to answer that it was not to use my name, for there was something uncanny about the thought of a machine speaking it, but it seemed discourteous to say that when it was helping me. As I hesitated, it occurred to me that it was not just a request for information, because the others had spoken my name many times since I had entered the complex. It was, in fact, a sophisticated courtesy the compute
rmachine extended, for it was asking permission. It struck me that if Ines could hear her name spoken anywhere in the complex, it could also hear all else that was said. It must have heard Jak telling me he did not regard her as human and Dell and Seely telling me they thought of her as alive. Of course, a computer program could not feel glad or resentful of what it heard, but nevertheless, I felt uneasy. I was also aware that I had switched back and forth between thinking of Ines as a machine and as a female, which revealed my own ambiguous feelings on the matter.
The computermachine was still waiting for my response. “You may call me Elspeth, Ines,” I said finally, for it would be no less strange to be called Guildmistress.
“Thank you, Elspeth,” Ines responded composedly.
“Why do you thank me?” I asked, for the expressing of gratitude in that polite way seemed very odd, coming from a machine.
“Permission to use a name implies a certain level of trust,” Ines answered. “I also know that it is difficult for an organic intelligence in this time to communicate easily with a computer; therefore, I thank you for your trust.”
I took a long deep breath, marveling that a machine could reason so, even taking account of emotions. “I suppose it was different in the Beforetime,” I said.
“Please input the meaning of the word Beforetime, Elspeth,” Ines responded.
Input? I thought, taken aback. Is that the machine’s way of saying put in? But put the meaning of the word where and how? Then I remembered Dell telling me that Ines could explain how to use her. “How do I input meaning?” I asked.
“You may use any keyboard within the complex to type in a definition of the word Beforetime, or you can speak the definition now, and I will commit it to my working memory. If you wish, I can add the definition to my permanent memory.”
I felt dizzy trying to grasp the meaning of so many unfamiliar terms. Surely the machine had heard the others use the term Beforetime. Perhaps it sought to add my explanation to the others it must have, to better define it. Something in the tone of the questions implied a finicky sort of precision. Finally, I said, “The Beforetime is the time before the Great …” I stopped, realizing that the computer would probably not understand the words Great White any more than it had understood the word Beforetime. I tried again. “Beforetime is the … the period of time in which humans lived, before the destruction of that time.” I stopped, frustrated by the ugly inadequacy of my explanation. Then I had an inspiration. “The Beforetime is the world that existed in the time when you were made, Ines.”