Aurian

31 Dhiammara

“Behold, fair Dhiammara!”

“You’re joking!” Aurian turned to Yazour in patent disbelief. By the eighteenth night of the journey, the desert’s beauty had begun to pall. The gem dust got everywhere— in her hair, her throat, even inside her clothes—and because the oases they had visited were needed for vital drinking water, bathing had been forbidden. The Mage felt unspeakably filthy, and she itched. Her babe stole the nourishment from her slender rations, leaving her constantly ravenous, even though Bohan and Anvar always forced some of their food upon her. The intensive teaching sessions with Anvar had deprived them both of much-needed sleep and she felt tired and short-tempered, her eyes gritty and stinging from the dazzle of the sands. She was definitely not in the mood for jokes.

Aurian slowed her horse, lifting the veil from her eyes, and squinted against the glare. Silhouetted against the moon-bright sky, the solitary mountain loomed impossibly high. Its top was oddly truncated, as if it had been lopped off by some gargantuan sword, and the sheer sides gleamed with a mirror brightness, as though polished. The structure showed no signs of weathering, and that too, in this place of scouring sandstorms, was absolutely impossible.

“That can’t be a natural formation!” Aurian accused.

“I agree, though no one knows its history,” Yazour replied. “Close up, its scale is staggering. It may look enormous now, but distance is deceptive in the desert.”

He was right, Aurian discovered. It took several hours’ hard riding to reach the towering peak, and by the time they approached its sheer walls the horizon was growing pale. The mountain was immense, its size exaggerated further by the fact that the land did not rise gradually toward it. The slender cone erupted cleanly from the surrounding sands, like an island from the sea. For the last miles of the ride it had been impossible to take in the entire structure, and now they had reached its feet, all that could be seen was a vertical wall of darkly gleaming rock that stretched out of sight above them and for miles to either side. Yazour turned aside, parallel to the polished wall, and in a short time Aurian saw a darker shadow on the stone, a narrow opening just high enough to admit a horse.

One by one the riders led their animals through the entrance and into the cool darkness beyond, and torches, stacked to one side of the opening, were kindled and set into brackets on the walls. As the light grew, Aurian stared around her in disbelief. The cavern was huge, its ceiling lost high in the shadows above. To her left, half of the floor space was taken up by two pools, the higher set on a stony shelf, its waters trickling down in a small cascade to the lower. A sloping stone ramp led to the upper pool, where the horses and mules were being taken to drink. The floor of the cavern was level rock, drifted in places with glowing gem sand that had been blown inside by the wind. This, along with the reflections from the glassy walls, served to augment the torchlight.

“This place is incredible!” Anvar, at the Mage’s side, was looking around him with wide eyes.

“The lower pool is for bathing,” Yazour said. “We keep a goodly stock of food and fuel here, so we can replenish our supplies—and today we’ll feast, or so it will seem, after all this rationing. We will rest here for two or three days before going on.”

“Wonderful!” Aurian smiled at him, tacitly apologizing for her recent moodiness. “I never thought I’d get tired of riding, but right now I never want to see a horse again! I could kill for a bath, a hot meal, and a long sleep.”

“Then you shall have them.” Anvar put his arm around her and led her away to the right, where a series of small fires were being kindled close to a vent in the rock that drew the smoke away out of the cavern.

Since Anvar had regained his powers and started learning from the Mage, their relationship had altered subtly. Everyone except Bohan and Shia, who were party to the secret, accepted him as Aurian’s husband, but even when the two of them were alone, Anvar’s old subservience had dropped away, to the point where he had been very firm about her taking extra food from himself and the eunuch. Aurian, to her surprise, had found herself not minding Anvar’s new assertiveness. Since their escape from Nexis she had been forced to be the strong one, to shoulder the burden of their journey, and having someone share j the responsibility had come as a relief. Although her occasional 1 lack of patience as a teacher, coupled with their mutual exhaustion, had led to some sharp words between them—Anvar, it seemed, had Magefolk stubbornness to match her own—a close and comforting friendship had developed between them that did much to ease the loneliness that was their common bond. The Mages shared a fire with Eliizar and Nereni. While they waited for supper to cook they talked, glad of the opportunity after the enforced isolation of the desert camps. Eliizar, free of the Arena and back with a military company where he belonged, seemed to have shed years during the journey. His one eye glowed with enthusiasm as he spoke of the desert that he loved. Nereni, plump and smiling, was also glad to have left the Arena, but was finding the journey a trial. Aurian sympathized. If she, an expert horsewoman, was wearied by the continuous riding, she hardly dared imagine what it must be like for a beginner like Nereni.

Anvar, who’d had little opportunity to ride during his time at the Academy except when Aurian had invented the occasional errand to give him an outing, was also feeling the strain. “It’s all right for you,” he teased Nereni, rolling an expressive eye at her rounded backside. “At least you’ve got some padding between you and the saddle!”

She threw a spoon at him, making him duck, and the four of them collapsed in gales of mirth. Bohan, having cared for the horses, joined them thereat, as did Shia, who had been exploring the cave. “I don’t like it,” she told Aurian. “I see nothing, but it feels—prickly.”

The Mage, intent on Nereni’s delicately spiced stew, was not paying much attention. “Maybe you have sand in your coat,” she replied absently, and soon forgot the conversation. Now that she was full of good food, she found that her eyes refused to stay open any longer. The outline of the flames seemed to dance and blur in her vision, and the quiet sounds of conversation receded.

“Here you are, sleepyhead. Do it properly.” She blinked, brought back to herself by Anvar’s voice. He was holding out a blanket. “I wanted to bathe—” she protested, but the words were swallowed in a yawn.

“Do it tomorrow. I don’t mind sleeping with a dirty woman.”

“You’re just as dirty—” Aurian began indignantly—and fell silent in dismay as she grasped the import of his words. Without the tent to shelter them, they would have to play out the charade of their marriage to the full. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that this awkward situation might arise?

“It’s all right,” Anvar said softly, and wrapping the blanket snugly round her shoulders, he gathered her into his arms as they lay down. The warmth of his body felt good after the cool air of the cave, and soon she was relaxing against him drowsily. It had been so long since she had felt comforting arms around her at night ... As Aurian drifted into sleep, her heart ached with longing for Forral.

The fragrance that teased her into wakefulness reminded Aurian so strongly of the Arena that she opened her eyes expecting to see the white walls of her old cell. Instead she saw Anvar, holding a steaming cup. “I have a surprise for you,” he said. “Your friend Eliizar brought his own supply of—”

“Liafa.” Aurian beamed, reaching greedily for the cup.

“Well! And I thought Eliizar was exaggerating when he told me how much you loved that stuff. That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile this early in the day.”

Aurian stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s all right for some. You look as though you’ve been up for ages.”

Anvar grinned. “The men—being the earliest risers—had the first turn at the.pool.”

All traces of the sparkling dust had gone from his skin. His hair, curled and darkened now by the water, had grown during his time in slavery, and to keep the damp strands from his face he had copied Yazour, tying the errant locks back with a thong at the nape of his neck. It suited him, Aurian thought.

“What are you staring at? Have I missed a bit?”

“Who, me? Nothing.” Aurian floundered. “I’d forgotten what you looked like under all that dust!”

“Well, it’s the women’s turn now, so you’d better hurry up if you want to get rid of your own dust.”

“Suits me.” She put down the empty cup. “It’s a pity, really. I must be worth a fortune in gems right now.”

Nereni was in the pool, splashing and laughing with the other women of Harihn’s household. The Mage shed her dusty clothes and stepped into the water. It was not as cold as she had expected, and while it was shallow enough for standing, there was enough depth to swim. The bottom was coated in a soft layer of gem sand, doubtless shed by generations of dusty travelers. It gleamed underfoot, reflecting the torchlight from the walls. Nereni waded over and handed her a slab of rough soap. “Ah, I see you are returned at last, from the country of dreams.”

“Real soap! Nereni, you think of everything.”

“But of course—and as well, for you warriors!” Her plump face dimpled. “I must go to prepare the day meal, but I will fetch you a cloth to dry yourself, and some clean robes.”

When Nereni had gone, Aurian washed thoroughly, glad to get the dust out of her hair. Mine is growing again, too, she thought. Maybe I’ll get Anvar to braid it for me soon. By the time she had finished, the other women had left the pool, but she lingered for a while, enjoying the peace and solitude. At last, prompted by hunger, she went to rinse beneath the little waterfall before getting out.

The Mage had no suspicion of danger—not until it was too late. As she placed her hand against the smooth wall where the waterfall trickled down, a strident clamor tore the air like the shrieks of a vast, unimaginable beast in torment. The rock seemed to come alive beneath her fingers, trapping her hands, her arms—sucking her body inexorably into its soft, clinging maw. Aurian, despite her struggles, was snatched into the darkness beyond. Within seconds the wall had closed behind her, blank and featureless once more.

Anvar was racing toward the pool before the first heart-stopping echoes could die away. Yazour and Eliizar were close behind, their weapons drawn. By the time they reached the edge he was floundering through the water, searching for any trace of the Mage. They joined him, Yazour diving cleanly beneath the surface, Eliizar breaststroking across the pool. Then the clamor ceased abruptly, leaving only Anvar’s anguished cries: “Aurian! Aurian!”

The atmosphere in the camp was tense with apprehension. The women and children huddled together in the farthest corner away from the sinister pool, guarded by armed warriors. A squad of bowmen had their weapons trained on the still waters, ready to shoot at the first sign of a ripple on the smooth surface. A grim council had gathered by the Prince’s fire, and Harihn looked fearfully round at the faces of the small group. “Some beast must have taken her,” he insisted. “What else could have done this?”

“Sire, the pool was empty,” Yazour protested. “I had it searched thoroughly, and there is no underwater access. There was no blood, or any remains—”

“No!” Anvar cried. The cup of hot liafa that Nereni had forced upon him spilled, soaking into the blanket that she had draped around his shivering shoulders. Yazour glanced at him apologetically, and Nereni took his hand, her tearstained face filled with pity.

“There must have been a creature,” Harihn insisted, with a nervous glance at the pool. “What else could make such dreadful cries? What if it should return? Must others die to convince you?”

“There is no proof—”

“We could search again—” Eliizar and Yazour, wet and shivering in their own blankets, spoke simultaneously, but Anvar heard the doubt in their voices. Harihn shook his head and stood up. “It is pointless. She is surely dead. Prepare to leave, Yazour. We dare not linger in this place.”

“You bastard!” Anvar flung his blanket aside, and leaping over the fire, leveled a punch at the Prince. The blow, with the impetus of his body behind it, knocked Harihn sprawling. Anvar landed on top of him, hitting out at him blindly. “Coward!” he screamed. He was aware of blows on his body, but his rage made him oblivious to the pain. He felt strong arms pulling him, dragging him off the Prince. Anvar fought the new assailants in a frenzy, resisting their attempts to pin him down, until a drench of cold water hit him hard in the face. The shock brought him sharply to his senses. Eliizar and Yazour were holding him down. Nereni stood over him, a dripping bowl in her hands.

Anvar blinked water and tears from his eyes. “I thought you were my friends,” he muttered.

“We are, Anvar,” Yazour told him sadly, “but the Prince, unfortunately, is right.^ He gestured to one side, pointing at the small group of children who huddled together, weeping and terrified. “Would you sacrifice them also?” the warrior asked softly.

“I’m not leaving her!”

“You most certainly are not!” Harihn was scowling, and Anvar noted with satisfaction that his face was beginning to bruise and swell. The Prince kicked out viciously, catching him beneath the ribs, and Anvar convulsed in pain.

“Sire!” Yazour’s voice rose sharply in disgust at the cowardly attack. “He will die if you abandon him here!”

“You have your orders, Yazour. For attacking me, this churl deserves to die! Anvar will be left behind.”

“Your Highness, the man is distraught! You cannot hold him responsible for his actions ai such a time.”

“I’ll have him executed now, if you’d prefer.” Harihn wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, glaring venomously at Anvar, who smiled grimly.

“Any excuse, eh, Harihn?” Anvar said. “Well, at last you have what you’ve wanted all along—but it’s too late. You may get rid of me, but you’ll never have Aurian now!” Turning his head, he spat at the Prince’s feet.

Harihn’s face was livid. “Silence, dog!” he roared. “Yazour _make certain that all provisions are packed or destroyed! As you slowly starve, Anvar, I will rejoice in the thought of your suffering.”

“If Anvar is to be abandoned, he will not be alone.” Eliizar’s voice rang outWI would rather stay with him, than travel another mile with you!”

“And I!” Nereni strode bristling to her husband’s side. Anvar tried to protest, but he was astonished into silence by a voice that seemed to come from within his own head. “I too will stay.” He stared in amazement as Shia’s face appeared, her eyes blazing into his own. Bohan joined her, nodding his own silent support.

Harihn shrugged. “Very well.”

“At least leave them horses, sire, and some provisions,” Yazour protested.

“No! And if I hear another word from you on the subject, you will die beside them!”

The warrior blanched. “All this time I have served you,” he said tightly, “and I never knew what you were. I look into your face, and I see your father.” Turning his back on the Prince, he walked away to assemble his men.

The friends were guarded by a ring of bowmen while the others made their preparations for leaving. Though Anvar was desperate to continue the search for Aurian, Harihn had left orders that they were to be shot if one of them so much as stirred. While they waited, he tried in vain to persuade his companions not to sacrifice themselves, but Eliizar and Nereni were united in their indignation at such an idea, and Bohan looked hurt at the mere suggestion. Shia, though she did not speak again, snarled at him so fiercely that Anvar would have backed away if he could. She looked so savage that he wondered if he had imagined her voice in his mind. As soon as night fell outside, the Prince’s company departed, and the cavern seemed eerily quiet after they had gone. Anvar, without a word, got up and strode back to the pool. The others fanned out to search the cave once again.

Anvar sat, lost in wretchedness, beside the cavern entrance, his aching head buried in his hands. Reflected dawn light gleamed through the opening. They had searched all night, and still found no sign of Aurian, How long had it been now? He cast his mind back over the hours since their arrival in accursed Dhiammara. They had eaten first—their laughter during that feast seemed like a distant dream now^-and slept in each other’s arms through the remainder, of the day and part of the following night, Then Aurian had gone to bathe in the pool. Oh, Aurian! Why didn’t I just let you sleep? he thought. She had been lost for the rest of that night, the following day, and another night of frantic, fruitless searching. Surely there could be no hope now?

Someone touched his shoulder, and he turned to see Nereni. “Yazour hid some supplies for us at the back of the cave. Come and eat, Anvar. This does you no good.”

“How can you expect me to eat?” Anvar wanted to shout at her to leave him alone, but he knew that she was grieving too, and concerned for him.

She put a maternal arm round his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I koqw how much you loved her.”

“You don’t!” he retorted bitterly. “I didn’t know myself— not until I lost her.’’

Nereni went away sighing. Anvar wished that she and the others had saved themselves, and gone with Harihn. For himself —he didn’t care. What a cruel irony. Until these last weeks, when his discovery of magic had brought them so closely together, he had never admitted the depth of his feelings for Aurian—and now it was too late. It had all started long ago, ever since that wonderful Solstice night when they had celebrated with Forral . . . But Anvar had hidden the truth from himself then.

I knew in my heart that she was not for me, and never could be, he thought despairingly. But Aurian’s love of Forral, my own hatred of the Magefolk, then the return of Sara, all allowed me to run away from the fact that I loved her. How could I have been so blind? Self-protection, he thought ruefully, Aurian’s love for Forral was unswerving while he lived, and has remained that way since his death. I knew she’d never want anyone else. And now I’ll never even see her again. Never again will I feel the comfort of her friendship, the joy of her presence.

She’s gone—

“She is not!” The voice was Shia’s.

Anvar looked up through scalding tears. “What did you say?”

“Frame your thoughts clearly, man. You’re not very good at this. But you are of the same kind as her, so I can talk to you —if I choose to! Put asidcrfhis useless grief and. think! Aurian is my friend, and our minds are linked. If she were dead, I would surely know. But if she lives, why can I nor reach her?”

“Great Gods, you’re right!” Hope flared like a beacon in Anvar’s breast. “She told me that the Magefolk knew when one of their kind died. So if she were—”

“Then you wovAd have known ako,” Shia finished for him.

“But if she’s beyond your reach, where the bloody blazes is she?”

“Clear your mind, man. Listen.” Shia sat, curling her tail neatly around her paws. “When you two were in the tent, doing things—”

“We did not!”

“Not those things, stupid!”

“Oh . . . You mean the magic.”

“It always gives me a most unpleasant prickly feeling in my fur.” Her tail twitched. “I get it in this cave, too.”

“Then it wasn’t a beast? You think Aurian was trapped by magic? But I’ve been all over that wretched pool, and never felt a thing.”

“If Aurian had felt it, would it have trapped her?” Shia asked pointedly.

“So whatever it is, it must still be there!” He scrambled to his feet and ran.

Anvar plunged into the pool. What exactly was he looking for? Some hidden opening, perhaps? He paused, up to his waist in water, looking around wildly. It couldn’t be underwater— the pool had been searched from end to end. Then it came to him. Where was the obvious place to put a door? In a wall, of course. His eyes went automatically to the smooth flat surface where the waterfall trickled down.

“Anvar! What are you doing?” The others had gathered on the brink of the pool. Ignoring them, he waded across to the wall and began feeling along it with both hands.

“I’ve found it!” Anvar’s triumphant shout was drowned in the strident shriek of the alarm. His jubilation became horror as the stone began to melt beneath his hands, turning clinging and viscous, sucking him in like quicksand, drawing his head and shoulders inside. The stuff enveloped him—he couldn’t breathe. Anvar flailed in panic, then his fkce broke through into air, though he could see nothing in the utter darkness beyond,

“Aurian?” he called. There was no reply. But his body was almost through the constricting portal. He felt a glassy surface beneath his fingers and clawed at it frantically, trying to haul himself forward—then his feet were snatched in an iron grip. Something was pulling him back! “No!” he howled. He was so dose—he had to go on! But inch by inch he slid backward, until his cries were drowned once more in the suffocating ooze of the portal. There was a jerk on his ankles—and he shot out into the pool on top of Bohan, who hauled him, struggling, to the water’s edge.

“Imbecile!” Shia’s claws were sheathed, but the swipe from her massive paw knocked him flying.

Anvar sat up groggily. “Damn you!” he snarled at Bohan. “I was almost through.”

“We had no choice,” Eliizar protested. “What good would it do, to have you both trapped?”

“Think!” Shia’s thought was a whiplash across Anvar’s mind. “We need a way to keep the portal from closing, so we can all get in, and more important, out again.”

“Anvar, did you see her?” Nereni asked anxiously.

“I saw nothing—it was too dark. But I called, and she didn’t answer,” he told her miserably.

Eliizar frowned. “But I examined that rock when I searched the pool, and it was quite impervious.”

Anvar stared at him. “So it only responds to Magefolk,” he said slowly.

“Sorcerers?” Eliizar gasped. He backed away hastily, making a sign against evil. “But you are not—”

“I am, Eliizar—just like Aurian.”

Nereni, though wide-eyed, was more practical than her husband. She tugged urgently at Anvar’s arm. “Can you use this sorcery to open the way for us?”

Could he? Anvar had no idea how the magic of the portal worked. He was still too much of a beginner at this kind of thing, and there had been little time for Aurian to teach him much . . . Then the solution came to him in a blinding flash. One of the first spells that Aurian had taught him, with the terror of the Nihilim still fresh in her mind. “Nereni, I think I can!”

Anvar positioned himself before the featureless stone of the portal. Bohan stood behind him, his massive arms locked round the Mage’s waist. Eliizar and Nereni waited on the brink of the pool, not daring, to the Swordmaster’s obvious shame, to approach any closer.

“Are you ready, Bohan?” Anvar glanced back over his shoulder. The eunuch nodded, tightening his grip. “Now!” Anvar muttered, and placed his hand upon the stone.

Again, the shrieking clamor rang out. The rock became fluid and clinging, clutching at Anvar’s arm to draw him within. But this time, Bohan held him firmly, fighting the pull. Anvar concentrated with all his might, trying to block out the shrill distraction of the alarm. He had to get this right .

Sweat broke out on his brow. Extending his free hand, he carefully constructed Finbarr’s time spell—and toppled backward with Bohan into the water as the force that pulled at them suddenly ceased. Anvar struggled to his feet, spluttering and panting, and reached out to the stone. Bohan forestalled him— and thrust his own fist straight through, pulling it out again with ease.

“It worked!” Anvar yelled. “Eliizar, it worked! I’ve taken the portal out of time! We can go through now!”

Shia bounded forward, needing no further urging, but Eliizar stood back, white-faced. “I—I cannot!” he gasped. “Anvar, forgive me, but sorcery ... I cannot!”

Anvar grasped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Eliizar, we all have our fears.” With a pang, he remembered saying the same thing to Aurian, on top of the cliff ... “I must go.” He turned back to the portal, where Bohan and Shia waited, plainly anxious to be moving. “You and Nereni stay here, and wait for us. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

“Wait!” Nereni came running, splashing through the water in her haste. “Here.” She thrust a bundle into his hands, “Here is a water bag, and food—the poor girl will be starving. And I put in a robe for her, and her boots—and she might need these,” She handed him Aurian’s sword and staff, “Hurry,” she urged, and reached up to kiss his cheek. “Hurry, Anvar, and come back safe.”

It was difficult to force a way through the viscous rock without the spell of the portal to draw them. Shia, bristling with impatience, went first, with Anvar and Bohan helping her by pushing from behind. Anvar followed, feeling the cat’s massive jaws grasp his collar to pull him through. It was pitch-dark within, even to his Mage’s night-vision. He turned and groped for Bohan’s hand, and Shia helped him haul the eunuch through. Bohan had brought a torch, but when he kindled it, the flame gave no light.

“What on earth . . . ?” Anvar gasped. He could see it flickering in midair like a pale, disembodied wraith, but that was all. It illuminated absolutely nothing.

“Magic!” Shia spat disgustedly. “You make some light!”

Anvar sighed. Fire-magic was not his strong point, but ... By dint of much^cpncentration, he managed to form a rather wobbly ball of Magelight—and fell back, screaming, as the interior chamber burst into eye-searing brilliance.

“Put it out!” Shia roared in agony. Anvar snuffed his flame, his eyes watering and blinded with crimson and green spots of dazzle. He picked himself up—only to be flattened again, as the entire chamber lurched into motion with a grinding roar, rushing upward with terrifying speed.

As Anvar’s vision cleared, he saw that the chamber was now illuminated by a soft glow that seemed to emanate from the walls. His mind reeled dizzily as he realized he was within a hollowed-out gem. All around him, the gleaming facets reflected myriad images of himself, Shia, and Bohan. When he moved, the images lurched and swooped, making him sick with disorientation. It was as though he too were part of the reflections; as though his soul, his very self were being sucked away into the walls. Beside him, Shia whimpered unhappily. It was the first time he had ever heard the great cat show the slightest sign of fear.

“It’s all right,” he said, trying to sound convincing. “Lie still and close your eyes. We’re being taken somewhere—maybe to the top of the mountain. It’s bound to stop when we reach it.”

“For their sake, I had better not find whoever created this thing,” Shia muttered wrathfully. Her words made Anvar wonder just who the creators were. This was far beyond the power of his own Magefolk.

“Now, how do we~get out?” As Anvar had predicted, their strange conveyance had eventually come to a juddering, spine-wrenching halt. He looked around, confused by the images that curved into infinity on all sides. Then he saw it—a pale, glimmering blue patch of Magelight that marked the area of his preserving spell. He got to his knees and thrust an experimental hand toward it. To his relief, the spell was still in operation, and his hand passed easily through the wall of the gem.

“Let me go first!” Shia shouldered past him. “If anyone is out there, I want to deal with them!”

They emerged onto flat bare rock that was shadowed in the half darkness of another cavern. Looking behind him, Anvar saw a featureless wall of polished stone, with nothing but the telltale glimmer of his spell to mark the point of their exit. He prayed that the spell would last. This was the first time he had tried anything so complex without Aurian’s help, and he was still uncertain of his raw, untried powers. The roof of the small cavern was low, like an inverted bowl, and the wall through which they had come swept round in a broad semicircle, its ends marked by a massive stone archway, through which the faint light came. From beyond the arch, Bohan was beckoning. Anvar hurried to join him.

Beyond the archway was a broad apron of stone, a ledge over . . . nothing. Anvar reeled back from the dizzy brink, swallowing hard. As far as he could see, the chasm below was endless, its sheer walls stretching away on either side and plunging down into a gut-churning nothingness, in the midst of which glowed the faint and sickly light that illuminated this massive maw in the body of the mountain. Some hundred feet away, on the opposite brink, there was another jutting tongue of rock like the one on which he stood, with a similar archway behind it.

His mouth gone suddenly dry, Anvar prayed that the ledge on which he stood was more solid than its counterpart looked. Apart from the sheer impossibility of scale, Aurian, with her terror of heights, would never have managed to get across. Yet there was no sign of her anywhere. Anvar refused to countenence the obvious—that she might have plunged to her death over the precipice. But if that was unthinkable, only one alternative remained. Something must have taken her across. Furthermore—he thought, recalling her terror on the cliff—she must have been very much against her will. He glanced up at the low roof, where stalactites hung like dripping fangs, hoping to find some means of crossing: a rope, handholds cut into the stone—anything at all. There was nothing.

A shrill, thin screeching, like metal grating against metal, sent Anvar spinning in the direction from which the unnerving sound had come. Framed in the opposite archway was a creature that turned his blood to ice. Its bloated, spherical body was wider than a man is tall, and it moved on a weird conglomeration of jointed, angular legs—too many for Anvar to count in that frozen moment of confrontation. And not all of its limbs were used for walking. Others sprouted like hideous growths from its dully gleaming body, some ending in cruel pincers, others in deadly keen blades like curved knives, still others in clumps of fingerlike manipulators that clenched and unclenched vn ceaseless motion, grasping at the air. There was no head. Clusters of brilliant lights, like eyes, were dotted at intervals around its swollen body, mounted on the ends of writhing limbs. With nightmare slowness, these twisted in the air, turning their blinding beams unerringly in the direction of Anvar and his friends.

“Dear Gods preserve us!” Anvar, in unthinking terror, began to back slowly away toward the sheltering archway.

Beside him, Shia gave a bloodcurdling snarl. “Scatter!” she snapped, as the hideous creature suddenly came scuttling toward them—straight across the thin air of the chasm!

The great cat leapt to one side and Anvar dived for the shelter of the archway. The creature paused on the stony apron, its myriad limbs clicking and rattling, its eyes swiveling, turning their beams this way and that—to fix upon Bohan, who stood, utterly paralyzed with fear, on the very brink of the precipice. Once again, Anvar heard the tortured, metallic shrieking as the angular legs stirred, and began to advance, step by step, toward the eunuch.

“Get him!” Shia’s thought seared into Anvar’s mind as she launched herself at the monstrosity, fastening her jaws around one of the slender legs. The creature’s eyes swiveled toward her and several sets of limbs, their pincers clacking together, their blades whistling through the air, snapped around—to meet on thin air as Shia darted ottt of reach.

In its moment of distraction, Anvar dashed across to Bohan and yanked him back from the edge. “Spread out,” he yelled. “Surround it! Keep it confused!”

Bohan, his paralysis vanished with the hope of a plan, drew his sword and moved to one side, waving the bright blade to distract the creature. As it lumbered toward him, Shia darted in again from behind, fastening her teeth on one of the legs. The limb flipped upward, hurling her against the side of the arch. Anvar had snatched up Aurian’s sword and ran in to chop at one of the swiveling eye stalks. There was a shower of sparks and a jarring backshock ran numbingly up his arm, as metal shrieked against metal. Anvar gasped, more from surprise than pain. This was no natural beast—it was a crafted thing!

The break in his attention almost cost him his life. Anvar looked up in time to see one of the arced blades descending, aimed straight at his head—but Bohan moved quickly in from the other side, fastened his huge hands round one of the legs, and yanked, his face crimson and contorted with exertion. Despite Bohan’s phenomenal strength, the creature did not budge, but the move was enough to deflect its blow at Anvar, who ducked back as the sharp edge whistled harmlessly past his face. Shia bought the eunuch time to escape by diving right beneath the curving belly of the monstrosity, swiping at the metal legs in a whirlwind of claws. It whirred and clicked, spinning violently round on the spot, but its killing limbs could not reach beneath its body. Anvar watched, horrified, as the cat deliberately began to inch toward the edge of the precipice, the creature, reacting with mindless fury, moving with her as it tried in vain to reach its tormentor. It reached the brink—toppled— and suddenly was gone. Shia with it.

“Shia!” Heartsick, Anvar raced for the edge—and saw two sets of claws, digging for dear life into the crumbling stone at the brink.

“Help . . .”

He heard Shia’s wailing cry, at the extreme of anguish— then Bohan was there, grasping frantically at the black paws, heedless of the yawning drop beneath. But even the eunuch’s strength was not equal to the weight of the cat’s massive body. Slowly, he began to slip forward, his feet sliding on the stone. Anvar flung himself down at the edge of the chasm and reached down to Shia. With a bone-cracking effort she dug the claws of her hind feet into the stone, raising herself just enough for him to grasp two handfuls of loose skin at the base of her neck. The struggle seemed to take hours. Anvar pulled until he thought his arms would snap, sick with fear that he might slide forward to his own death. But with the two men supporting her weight, Shia was able to haul herself upward, inch by painful inch— until at last, with a heave and a great sliding rush she was up, safely back on the ledge.

Anvar rolled away from the brink and lay panting. His arms, freed of their burden, were aching, their muscles locked. “What a stupid thing to do!” he raged at Shia. He felt the cat’s mental equivalent of a shrug.

“It worked, didn’t it?” But for all her bravado, she sounded shaken.

Anvar had to smile. “It did indeed—and it saved all our lives.”

“As you humans saved mine. My thanks to you both.”

“It’s Bohan you should really be thanking.” Anvar clapped the eunuch on the shoulder, and the huge man grinned.

“It took all three of us to defeat the creature.” Shia paused, growling softly. “If Aurian met it alone ...”

“Oh Gods . . .” Anvar shuddered, thinking of her facing the fearsome metallic beast, naked and unarmed as she had been. He thrust the thought away, and got to his feet. “I’m not giving up. We have to go on.”

“I agree—but how?” Shia looked across the yawning gulf of the cavern, her tail twitching unhappily.

“That thing managed . . .” Anvar forced himself back to the edge, trying to work out how the beast had achieved the crossing. “There must be some way that we can’t see. Shia, come over here. See if you can sense any magic at work.”

“There is!” The cat backed away from the brink of the chasm, her fur bristling.

Anvar knelt beside her, feeling along the edge. Though his eyes told him nothing was there, his searching fingers encountered smooth stone that continued, as far as he could reach, out across the chasm. “There was a bridge here all the time. An invisible bridge. We can cross!”

Bohan had gathered-ap their discarded bundle. Now he hesitated on the lip of the precipice, frowning. Looking ques-tioningly at Anvar, he gestured across the chasm and made vague passes in the air with his hand.

Anvar understood all too well. His own stomach was churning at the thought of crossing that dizzying drop with nothing, seemingly, beneath him but thin air. “No, my friend,” he said ruefully, “unfortunately I don’t know how to make it visible. We’re just going to have to be very careful.”

Bohan shuddered.

Anvar went first, crawling out onto the invisible stone on his hands and knees. It took more courage than he had known he possessed to make that first move out into nothingness. He fought down the clutching panic that threatened to unman him with thoughts of Aurian and forced himself to inch forward, feeling for the limits of the span with hands that shook violently. He tried to call back to the others, but only a strangled squeak emerged. Anvar cleared his throat and tried again. “Be careful, it’s very narrow and there’s no rail. Move slowly—the surface is very smooth. We daren’t rush this.”

Time stretched out into an endless nightmare. Anvar tried at first to keep his eyes on the opposite wall of the chasm, but it didn’t help. It seemed to grow no nearer, and he found himself wondering if there was some evil magic in the bridge that kept his goal receding, trapping him endlessly suspended over the abyss until his strength gave out and he plummeted to his death. Anvar closed his eyes—and immediately felt better. He realized that he had no need of vision—the bridge was invisible anyway—and he could progress much more easily if he shut out the sight of the sickening drop beneath him. He crawled on with painful slowness, feeling blindly for the edges of the span on either side with sweating hands, the thunder of his heart loud in his ears.

“I’m across!” The feel of the stone had roughened beneath Anvar’s groping hands. He could no longer find the edges of the bridge, and opened his eyes to find himself safely on the ledge at the other side. He crawled out of the others’ way and collapsed gratefully, his cheek pressed to the blessed, solid rock.

His body ached and trembled with tension and he was drenched in sweat, but he could have wept with relief. Bohan and Shia joined him and all three rested for a while, too overcome even to speak.

Finally Anvar forced them into motion once more, though the eunuch looked exhausted, and even Shia’s lithe stride was unsteady. Anvar never paused to think of the emotions that drove him beyond endurance, beyond even hope. He only knew that he had to find Aurian, or perish in this mountain as she had done.

They had expected to see another curving blank wall beyond this archway, but instead it opened out into a long narrow chamber with a high vaulted ceiling. Once again the stone had a fused, glasslike surface, as though it had been melted and recast into its present form. A weird, reddish half-light washed the chamber, seeming to come out of nowhere, and the air prickled with a high-pitched, distant humming that produced an irritating resonance in the bones of Anvar’s jaw and skull. But his attention was elsewhere. Arranged along the right-hand wall of the chamber was a row of tall, oval-shaped gems that glistened dully like frosted moonstones. They looked like nothing so much as the cocoons of some sinister giant insect, and Anvar, looking at them, felt disquiet stir in his breast. With Shia and Bohan following, he went to examine the nearest.

He found a single clear facet in the front of the frosted gem, like a window upon the interior. Anvar peered through— and jumped backward with a strangled exclamation as the bony, grinning face of a human skull leered at him—seeming, due to some trick of the gem’s internal structure, to leap out at him from its crystal tomb.

Shia pushed past Anvar, standing on her hind legs to look into the clear facet. “This is what becomes of those who penetrate this place,” she growled. “Imprisoned in crystal by the metal creature.”

Anvar suppressed a shudder. “You don’t think—” “I hope not! But all the same, we must search.” Shia t ted away to the next crystal and stood upright to peer into u Anvar, sick at heart, followed her.

One by one they investigated each cocoon in the row. Anvar had to steel himself to look into each one, dreading what he might find. All contained bones, mostly human, but some belonging to other creatures. Some were intact, but others had been cruelly crushed^and hacked by the metal beast’s appendages. Some were unrecognizable, but there was one skeleton of a great cat that made Shia snarl savagely, and two of the crystals contained small, human-seeming skeletons—with a fanlike tracery of bones springing from each oddly jointed shoulder. Winged Folk! Anvar was astounded. When they reached the last cocoon, he hesitated.

“Let me look,” Shia said. She peered into the aperture, while Anvar watched, dry-mouthed. At last she got down, her tail twitching with emotion. “Aurian is in there.”