Agreed. More, she is doing a fair job of holding out. She knows something she does not want us to find out.
"I am sorry you are disappointed in me, Domna El Haliene. But I did not choose to arrive at your door, any more than you chose to open it."
"Yes. Perhaps I was mistaken. No, I cannot have been. It is not possible. I am never wrong. There must be some way for you to stop this disaster, to prevent Dom Padriac and Dom Kieran from tearing everything apart. Neither of them can be allowed to control Hali, to use me ... as they plan!"
"And how is that?"
"Each wishes me to turn the power of the Tower against the other, of course. Are you stupid?" She sounded like a woman who had reached the limits of her own endurance.
"I am not stupid. I just don't know what you mean. Who are Dom Padriac and Dom Kieran?" Mikhail held back his annoyance with an effort, and told his growling stomach to shut up.
Amalie gave a sigh again. "Dom Padriac is my cousin, Padriac El Haliene, and he thinks that I will surrender the Tower to him because . . . because we are kin. He has already ..." Her eyes widened with alarm, and she swallowed hard. "Dom Kieran is the King's Champion, Kieran Castamir." She paused, looked at him as if expecting the names to provoke some reaction.
She started to tell us something important, then changed her mind, Mik, I wonder what Padriac has already done? And there is something more—something that I can sense. It gives me the coldest feeling.
What?
Oh, God! Ashara! She was here, and not too long ago. I can feel her presence in this place. Why didn't I realize it sooner? Get me out of here!
Marguerida—stop it! Get hold of yourself right now! We must get more information, and if you get hysterical on me, we won't find out what we need to know.
Yes, Mik. I'll try. But it is so . . .
Mikhail sensed her trying to breathe more slowly, and watched her drain her mug of warm wine. When he sensed
that she was back in control, he asked Amalie, "What happened to the Keeper here?"
"Him!" It was a sneer. "As soon as he realized that Varzil could not protect him, he left as if demons were after him." Damn him, that feckless Karl Ridenow, taking what should have been my place! And damn Varzil for giving him the Keeper's position, and for dying. He is not dead yet, but he might as well be! Damn all men! They are weak, when they should be strong, and stupid when they believe they are clever. The Compact will not stand without Varzil. If Mali falls ...
Amalie seemed to realize then that her thoughts were
audible, and two red blotches showed on her cheeks. She
glared at both of them, a golden glare, and Marguerida
matched it. >
"Domna, this is all very interesting, but it does not provide us with an answer." Marguerida's voice was tense as she spoke, and Mikhail knew that the real or imagined presence of Ashara Alton was at the root of it.
"Don't you understand yet?" She directed this question to Mikhail, as if Marguerida were not there.
"No, domna. We do not. You have not told us anything of any use. Are your own wits disordered?" That paid her back for calling him stupid.
"Certainly not!" She spoke adamantly, but there was fear underlying her vehemence. It was nothing more than a mild flutter of apprehension, and she drew her attention from it quickly. Mikhail suddenly realized that she was terrified of losing her mind, and not far from it either.
Amalie cleared her throat, gave Marguerida a look of loathing, and began to speak. "Very well. I will try to be clear. Seventy years ago, Varzil Ridenow managed to force the kingdoms to make an agreement, and he destroyed, with his power, the great matrix screens. I am too young to remember how it was then, of course, but my father has told me of it. He was a mechanic at Arilinn then, a young man. It must have been wonderful!" Her thin face was alight with memory.
"Clingfire and bonewater dust were wonderful?" Marguerida demanded sharply. "I think not!"
"I will thank you to keep that unnatural creature silent. How can you stand her?"
"What do you mean?" Keep still for a second, Marguerida I know you want to shake her until her teeth rattle, but be patient.
Yes, dearest, but it will not be easy. I would give a great deal to be able to explode!
"She reeks of the laran of the overworld. What manner of creature is she?"
"Margarethe is quite human, Amalie. Why should you think otherwise?"
"Human?" Amalie shuddered and looked into the fire. "I doubt that very much! She reminds me ... never mind."
"All right. Now, you say that Varzil forced the kingdoms to stop fighting, and he destroyed the great matrix screens. That seems good."
"The Towers cannot exist without matrices. There were new ones found, smaller than before, but not without power. But it has not worked very well, for while men prattle of peace, they still prepare for war. True, they no longer send clingfire against one another, but they will again, and soon. Not all of it was destroyed, nor were all the great screens. There are hidden caches which even Varzil could not uncover."
"I see." Mikhail had always had the impression that once the Compact had been agreed upon, Darkover had become peaceful. But so many of the records had been lost through the centuries. He was not even certain of the precise date when Hali Tower had been totally destroyed. All he could do was hope that it was not now, not while they were there.
"This is not the only problem. Petty kingdoms vying for power are the least of it. Varzil made it possible for women, such as myself, to become Keepers, for he has discovered we are actually more capable than men. But he did not choose well." It was as if her tongue, guarded before, had finally loosened, and she dared not stop talking.
"Oh?"
"His favorite was a creature called Ashara Alton. She was Underkeeper at Neskaya, then Keeper after he left there, and came to Hali for a time. After he restored the Lake, he chose to retire, and she was installed here at Hali as Keeper. She was very powerful, even without the command of great screens. I came here when she had been
Keeper for thirty years, and trained under her. But she is corrupt. There is something in her nature that is evil."
"Is?" Marguerida squeaked the word in spite of herself. "You mean she is still alive?" I knew it! It was not my imagination! She is alive in this time, and she is going to find me and kill me! He could sense her terror, and knew that Amalie did too.
Amalie looked at her with grave suspicion. "Keep your tongue behind your teeth, foul witch! Are you in league with her? I should have known! The moment I heard your voice, I should have known."
"Ashara Alton was my foe," Marguerida said slowly.
"Was?" Amalie seemed puzzled for a moment by this. "So you claim, but I do not believe you, for you are too like her, that coldness, that icy way you have. You are her creature!"
Oh, God, Mik. What if she is right?
She is wrong. Istvana would know if you were other than what you are.
"You seem to fear Ashara more than you fear Dom Padriac and Dom Kieran."
"We drove her out of Hali—all of us here, plus half the laranzu in the world. It took that much, for she is one of Zandru's own. My brother died here, his blood spattered on the stones, and so did others! Many others. But she survived, and her powers were not undone. Now she sits in Thendara, like a spider, weaving her treachery, waiting to return to Hali. Oh, she pretends to be doing nothing more than advising on the building of the new Castle and on matters of state but she has the Hasturs in her thrall, and if Hali falls to either my cousin or the King's Champion, it makes no difference. She will reclaim her place either way."
Amalie's eyes were constricted, the pupils so tiny that they were almost invisible in the flickering light from the fireplace. She trembled as she envisioned these events, and it was clear that she had spent a great deal of time reliving them. Mikhail caught glimpses of dead bodies, bloated with rot, stinking of decay, but he could not guess if they were from the past or the future. Without doubt, poor, terr
ified Amalie had reason to fear madness.
"But if she wants the Tower, why are you so convinced that it will be destroyed?"
"Because if she cannot control it, she will allow no one else to have it! And Varzil cannot last too much longer. He has been hanging on for weeks, as if waiting for something, but he will perish soon, and then I will be truly lost. She will torture me, as she did others." The Keeper shuddered all over, and tears slipped down her thin cheeks.
He felt Marguerida stir beside him, her sense of terror slipping away slowly, and her resolve hardening. She flexed her left hand, like a cat preparing to claw at something. He rose to his feet. He felt caught between the two women— both so distraught he could not clearly read either of them. Amalie was certainly trying to conceal something, and Marguerida was on the edge of doing something desperate.
"I must see Varzil." As soon as he said this, he felt a sense of release and knew that finding Varzil was what he and Marguerida must do. He felt a tingling under his sternum, a warmth that spread out across his body, calming him.
"No!" Amalie was not looking at him, but at Marguerida. "That must not be!"
"If I am correct," Mikhail began reasonably, "then it was Varzil who called us through the years, to come to Hali now. I think, therefore, that he wishes to see us."
"It is a trick! She sent you here—you and that thing!"
"Where is Varzil! Tell me!" Marguerida's voice of command rang out against the cool stones of the Tower. It was not directed at him, but Mikhail felt himself cringe.
The effect on Amalie was even more remarkable, for she shrank into her chair, put her hands over her head, and screamed! "No, no—don't hurt me again!"
"No one is going to hurt you, domna," he told the hysterical woman quietly.
Mik, what kind of Keeper was Ashara, that she should inspire such terror?
A very poor one, obviously.
She seems to be able to resist the Voice—as if she has had long practice in avoiding its influence, Mik.
Yes, she does. And we have to get to Varzil.
Why not just reach him telepathically? It should not be difficult, even if he is dying—if he is. That voice he used
made my bones rattle, and it did not seem like the death-gasp of anyone.
I don't know. You notice we have not heard the voice since we arrived, which suggests to me that he- is shielded in some manner—maybe to protect him from Ashara as well.
Don't mention that name! It makes me want to scream! How are we going to get Amalie to tell us. . . .
I can only think of one way, and you won't like it.
Mik, I have never forced rapport on anyone deliberately in my life! It is the thing I hate most about the Alton Gift— and fear as well.
I suppose we could hold her feet to the fire until she tells us.
That is not funny! Damn you, Mikhail Hastur! She is right to fear me, isn't she? I am a foul creature.
No, beloved, you are nothing of the sort. More to the point, you are nothing like your ancestor. You are not cruel or power hungry. But we must find Varzil, and I don't believe we have a lot of time.
And here I thought I was the logical one. Very well—but I loathe what I am about to do.
Mikhail watched Marguerida as she closed her golden eyes and began to breathe slowly and deeply. He could sense the energy in her tense body beginning to change, and even though her shadow-matrixed hand was shielded by the mitts, he could feel the power coursing along the hidden lines on her flesh.
Then, she opened her eyes and looked directly at Amalie, who was still sobbing into her hands. There was a gasp, and the woman lifted her head. Two pair of golden eyes met, and Amalie El Haliene tried to escape the gaze that pierced her consciousness.
Where is Varzil!
Please, please, do not hurt me. I must not tell you—you must not see him.
I will not hurt you.
You are her creature! Oh, Goddess—why am I so weak? If you obtain it, the world will never be whole!
Obtain what?
Mikhail was listening intently, lending Marguerida his silent support, as he had done before, knowing she needed it desperately. He could feel her self-loathing as she pressed
Amalie for information. For someone who had had so little training, and had the Alton Gift, she was incredibly gentle. She was not probing Amalie's mind as she might have done, had she been a less ethical person, and was ignoring the fragments of memory that spun in the Keeper's struggling mind. There were bits of her past, emotions she was shamed by, experiences that were embarrassing, and he felt more than a little discomfort at seeing as much as he did.
Then he saw something gleaming, something huge and faceted, which could not be other than a starstone of remarkable size. It shone in his mind, glittering, drawing him into it for an instant. There was a slight mental tug, as if a part of him had been linked to that huge stone. His heart felt squeezed for an instant, and then the sensation was gone.
The woman slumped back in her chair, her head lolling back.
"Is she ... ?"
"She just fainted from terror, Mik. She will be all right, or as well as she can be. She's been tortured like this for years. But I think it would be better if we left before she comes to. I hate this place, almost as much as she does."
"Does she?"
"Amalie wants to keep the Tower, but it will always be a place of torment for her."
"I see. And I think you are right. We have done all we can. But, what happened to the rest of the people here? I sensed something while you were . . . but it was gone too quickly.
"They were captured by one of those warlords, poor folk. She is genuinely distressed about that. Come on." Marguer-ida started for the door, and he followed her.
"Why didn't they catch Amalie?"
"She knows a few tricks, I discovered." The disgust in her voice made him want to weep, and he knew she hated herself for what she had just done. "Amalie learned how to make herself almost invisible telepathically—which probably saved her life while Ashara was Keeper here. What a tragedy."
There seemed nothing to say, so Mikhail went down the stairs behind her. He was tired, but part of him was very excited. He was going to meet Varzil the Good, perhaps
the single greatest man in the history of his world—if he didn't slip on the stairs and break his neck! He made himself put one weary foot in front of the other until he reached the (entryway.
25
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the crow greeted them. Then it flew onto Mikhail's shoulder and rubbed its beak tenderly across the arch of his ear. He lifted a hand and stroked the shining feathers softly, as the crow shifted from foot to foot.
Marguerida had already left the Tower, and was standing in a little courtyard looking at the predawn twilight. The air was cold and crisp, but it did not feel like winter. He glanced at the sky. There were a few clouds, but it was fairly clear, and he could see the constellations he had memorized long ago. Astronomy, except for the movement of the moons, was not a science much practiced on Darkover, but his desire to travel to other worlds had made him curious, and he had learned the rise and set of the constellation called Aldones, which was below the horizon until the onset of spring. The constellation Zandru, centered on the baleful red star called Antares by the Terranan was visible at the beginning of winter. These, plus Avarra in fall, and Evanda in summer, were a calendar in the night.
He looked towards the eastern horizon, and saw the head and shoulders of Aldones, down to the bright, white star that depended from the belt. Yes, it was almost spring here. He could see Idriel rising, and knew that day would soon follow her.
He walked toward Marguerida, and found her breathing deeply, filling her lungs with air, as if drinking a rare vintage. "It doesn't even smell like Darkover, Mik." She had dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders were drooping.
"What?" He sniffed. "Hmm. You are right. I wonder why?"
"Well, I never smelled this carrion sce
nt before, as if
there were a field of carcasses nearby. And there is another odor—ugh! Hot and cold at the same time. Come on—let's get away from here. I can feel Ashara in the very stones of this place, for she has walked here, even sat on that little bench. I can feel her everywhere in the Tower, as if she imprinted herself on the walls themselves."
"She seems to have had a talent for making stones do her bidding, doesn't she?"
Marguerida shuddered. "I wish we had brought -our horses, even though I do not know if horses can travel in time. I hope Dorilys is all right."
*"Don't worry. I am sure those Guardsmen have both Charger and Dorilys well in hand, and have probably taken them down to the inn near Hali. They are most likely in a warm barn, eating their heads off. And speaking of such, there should be some sort of stable here."
"I will ride a donkey to get away from here! We must hurry, Mik. I don't think Ashara knows about me yet, but she will soon." Her beautiful voice was thick with terror and exhaustion. Mikhail could only marvel quietly at her strength, knowing what entering Amalie's mind had cost her.
"Why do you think that?"
"She knew that I would exist, though I am not sure how. She was determined to destroy me before I destroyed her. None of that has happened yet. But I am starting to wonder if the reason she was waiting for me was that she had already encountered me here."