The Heart of the mirage

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

'This place gives me the spine-crawls,' Brand said, looking around uneasily. 'It's so unnatural.'

I shrugged. 'It's a mirage. I find it… entertaining.' Enjoying the view from the back of my shleth, I saw a landscape of green and blue boulders, of bushes scurrying along trying to hide behind one another like frightened furry animals, of pink and white lakes hovering in the distance, of tree blossoms tinkling in song or birds wafting past in perfumed flight or insects floating along streams in flower-petal boats.

Occasionally we saw something more commonplace: a Kardi with a cartioad of fruit on his way into the city, or a field of grain being hoed and weeded by people who waved as we rode by – sights that wouldn't have been out of place in a Kardi vale or along a Tyranian river, except they were set against a mauve sky studded with candleholders.

Brand regarded it all sourly. He indicated the grey and white brick paving we were following. 'And you think this road will lead us directly to the Stalwarts?'

'If the Mirage Makers have already seen the invaders, I think they will supply us with the path to

the place of their intrusion. I could be wrong, I suppose. Let me check…' Several women were digging pottery clay from a small pit beside the road. I pulled up beside them and asked diem how long the paving had been there.

'Ah, about ten minutes,' one of them said matter-of-factly, using a clay-smeared arm to push her hair away from her face, with interesting results. 'Nice one, isn't it? I hope it stays. It'll be much more convenient for us. The old road was much further east.'

I raised an eyebrow at Brand. 'Ten minutes. I'd say it was made for us, wouldn't you?'

Brand remarked it was convenient to be on such good terms with the Mirage Makers. As we rode on, he added, with less flippancy, 'You think we're being followed, don't you? You're not pressing these poor beasts of ours merely out of your eagerness to meet the Stalwarts.' The shleths were at that moment only ambling at a walk, but that was just because they needed the respite; they had been pushed hard for three days now. His animal reached back with a feeding arm to scratch absentmindedly at an itch, and connected with Brand's sandal instead. He knocked the offending limb away in annoyance.

I said, 'There is a possibility Pinar might take it into her head to come after us. I'm hoping Garis can persuade her not to; that's really why I wanted him to stay in the city.'

'But if he doesn't tell her where we've gone, surely she won't know where to find us.'

'Yes, she will. She has a certain, um, affinity with me, Brand. She has put her cabochon into the hollow on my sword hilt; that gives her some advantages, including the ability to follow the traces my sword leaves behind it as it passes, or so I have read. And no,'

I added, forestalling his next suggestion, I can t leave the sword behind. I need it.'

He frowned uncertainly, not liking the nature of the conversation, but persisting nonetheless. 'If these Mirage Makers can help us, then can't they hinder her? Stop her from following us? Couldn't they throw a lake across the landscape between her and us, or something?'

'I'm sure they could. But I'm not sure they will. She is Magor, so presumably the Mirage Makers think of her as an ally. There may be other considerations as well.'

He sighed. 'Ligea, I think you ought to tell me everything you know instead of just hinting at things. It is very irritating.'

I tried not to feel exasperated. His persistence was edging me towards the thing that had been skipping around the fringes of my mind for weeks; something I had been doing my unsuccessful best to stave off because I didn't want to think about it. I said, 'I'm not being deliberately obscure, Brand. It's just that I don't really know anything. I only guess. All those weeks we were imprisoned, I had time to do a lot of thinking. And I had access to a great many books about Kardiastan and the Magor. And then I have what the Mirage Makers have told me more directly…'

'And?'

I pointed at a black patch scoring a hillside with darkness. 'You've seen those diseased areas?'

'Of course. They are – foul.'

'Yes. Evil. I have come to believe they are a sort of physical manifestation of things we usually think of as abstracts: things like cruelty and hate. Just as a mirage can have solidity here, so can evil have a physical reality. Those patches are slowly and surely destroying ¦››¦ m /¦*. -•.«._¦'•

the Mirage. But I think the Mirage Makers know a way to make themselves strong enough to resist. I think they believe an infusion of humanity, of Magoroth humanity, will provide them with what they now lack.'

'Dubious reasoning,' he objected. 'Surely humanity is more usually known for committing evil than for combating it.'

'Perhaps those who are capable of committing evil are also the best at fighting it, for just that reason. And there are those who do combat it, especially among the Magor.' There was another hole in my reasoning, though, one that was harder to plug. I could be right about the nature of the Ravage, but where did it come from in the first place? Ravage patches predated the arrival of the Ten in the Mirage…

'What do you mean by an infusion anyway?'

'The Mirage Makers need a life. A Magoroth life to grow inside the Mirage, to become one of them, one of the immortal entities that comprise the Mirage. At least, that's what I have come to understand.'

He interrupted. 'Yes, I remember. I was there when Temellin told us.'

'Years ago, the then Mirager – a man called Solad- made some sort of bargain with the Mirage Makers.

'That debt has yet to be paid. I think he promised them a Magoroth life, a living, unborn child, in exchange for shelter inside the Mirage for the Magor fleeing the invasion. They want a child to become one of them. A child who, when his mind is grown, will provide them with the strength to destroy the Ravage. I suppose I could be wrong in this, but I don't think so.' And I believe the Ravage hates me so much because it knows I am bearing such a child…

He was silent for a while, absorbing all I had said with a growing horror. His mount, sensing his

inattention, stopped, forcing me to pull up as well. 'Sweet Elysium,' he said finally, his voice hardly more than an appalled whisper. 'Are you saying you think these Mirage Makers want your child, your unborn baby?'

'Not exactly. I think they want – need – a Magoroth child, any such child. I think they believe the most, er, appropriate would be one sired by Temellin. It is, after all, the ruler who has the responsibility for Solad's decisions and promises.' I could have added: and what better than a child from the womb of Solad's daughter, Kardiastan's truly legitimate ruler?

He stared at me, appalled. 'You – you think they're going to kill you to rip the child out of your womb?'

I shook my head. 'Under the terms of a covenant made way, way back with the Magor, the Mirage Makers are prohibited from the deliberate killing of humans. If the Mirage Makers could still kill, then I wouldn't be needing to ride all this way to halt an invasion. The Mirage would do it instead – drown the legionnaires in a lake or drop them into a gorge or something. I have been hoping they may be able to hinder the advance of the Stalwarts without actually hurting them, but I'm not sure enough of that to leave it up to them. You see, the Mirage Makers are not human. They sometimes don't understand just what is useful – or conversely, what is of a hindrance to us.' My mount reached out to groom Brand's animal with its feeding arms. I thwarted its intention by urging it into a walk once more.

Brand hurried his beast after me. 'What about the Shiver Barrens? They kill enough people -'

'The Barrens are not the Mirage. The Barrens are a natural physical phenomenon caused by the heating

and cooling of a certain kind of desert sand. The Mirage Makers use the Barrens as a barrier, that's all.' I paused, remembering. 'When I was inside the Shiver Barrens, under the sands, I thought I caught a glimpse of the Mirage Makers; now I think what I saw was a mere projection. Another mirage, if you like, with no substance. The reality of the Mirage Makers is the Mirage, just what you see around you now – nothing else. This is the closest they get to having a body, a physical being.'

He swallowed. 'You went inside the Barrens? Ocrastes' balls!' He made a helpless gesture with his hand. 'It seems I may as well have been asleep for all I have understood about what has been happening since we came to this place!' He gave me an uneasy look. 'Ligea, there is surely no way to remove a child from its mother's womb without killing the mother.'

'Not that I know of. However, my feeling is that the Mirage Makers take an intense interest in me because – because of my son. They might not kill me, but they might not save me, either; they may even have an interest in seeing Pinar catch up with us…'

'So that she can kill you on their behalf?' For a moment he was speechless, searching for the right words to express his outrage. Then he exploded. 'Goddess damn them! They are a sly, shifty piece of worm-ridden dirtf.'

'I wouldn't insult them too much, my hasty Altani friend. Their understanding might be a little unconventional, but I suspect they do hear every word we say. I could add, too, that Pinar's death might serve the Mirage Makers just as well. She also carries Temellin's child.'

He was further incensed; this time – illogically – with Temellin. 'That bastard. Vortexdamn it, Ligea,

what do you see in that frigging whoreson? Never mind, don't answer that. I don't want to hear. And if Pinar's death would suit the Mirage Makers just as well as yours, why don't you let her catch up with you, always supposing she is following us, and kill her off? She's no loss to the world, not even to Temellin. The woman's a murdering vixen.'

'Yes, she is. She's also well on the way to madness.'

He blinked. 'You sound almost sympathetic!'

'I wouldn't put it quite so strongly. I do pity her, though. Her instincts with regard to me were good, yet no matter what she did, she couldn't get rid of me. Her husband loves me still. However, if I had to choose between the two of us, yes, I'd kill her if I could, and it wouldn't particularly worry me to do so. Unfortunately, in any confrontation between Pinar and me, I would probably be the one to end up dead. Pinar is a Magoria with years of experience and training, and my sword can't be used against her. She, however, can kill me from across a room with hers. If she'd really put her mind to it, I'd already be just so many bones scattered in the soil of the Mirage. So far she has been hampered by a need not to be associated with my death – but out here, with me an escaped prisoner – who will blame her?'

'I still have my own sword. Hardly a patch on yours, I know, but why don't we lay a trap for her? Kill her before she has a chance to get you?'

'She's a Magoroth, Brand. She has the power to sense the position of people around her. An ambush is not going to work.'

He stared at me, aghast. He had finally absorbed the magnitude of the danger I was in. 'Does she know about this child business?' he asked.

'I haven't the faintest idea. I doubt she knows I'm pregnant.'

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'And Temellin?'

'He knows about the bargain, yes. But I never did tell him I was pregnant.'

I had never seen Brand so enraged. 'He got two women pregnant at the same time, knowing one of them may have to be killed to save the Mirage and the Magor?'

'That's an oversimplification of the situation, and you know it.'

'The situation stinks, Ligea, and so does Temellin.'

I ignored that and said instead, 'You may as well know another thing I've found out, which no one else realises. I'm not Shirin. I'm not Temellin's sister. I'm his cousin, Sarana. Solad's daughter.'

His grip slackened on the reins and his shleth halted again. I felt his bewilderment. 'But didn't Temellin tell us she was -' He gaped. 'You're the rightful-?',h-.. ¦

'Miragerin. Yes.'

He rolled his eyes upwards. 'Elysium save me. Ligea, all this stuff – it's unreal. Magic swords and Mirage Makers and dancing sands, I don't know how to deal with it.' He sighed and added, 'And if you are the Miragerin, why in all Acheron's mists are you thinking of leaving Kardiastan?'

'What difference does being the Miragerin make? In Magor eyes, I would still be a traitor. Worse still, the daughter of a traitor. I can't explain who I am without revealing the extent of Solad's treachery. He's the one who betrayed Kardiastan. I'm the daughter of a man who sold his country and his people into slavery and humiliation and subjection – just to save me. They would never accept me, and I can't say I blame them.'

I shook my head at the accumulation of bewildering irony. 'I revered Gayed, and have found

him since to be a man who feigned affection for me so I would become the instrument of his revenge. I know now why Salacia was complacent about my presence. She knew, and revelled in the joke. And now, when I discover the lie and replace Gayed with my real father, what do I find? A man who loved me so much, he didn't care how many people died and how many others suffered just to keep me alive. My life was bought with a pile of corpses and a tide of suffering that's lasted a generation.'

I turned to Brand, and the shleth took advantage of my inattention to start pulling leaves from a nearby bush with its fingers. 'I could atone by giving up my life and my child, but I'm damned if I'll do that willingly. It's just not in me. But I can try to stop the Stalwarts. And my only chance to do that is to stay ahead of Pinar if she is indeed following me. Or hope Garis manages to delay her.'

He was thoughtful. 'Once the Kardis find out you were telling the truth about the Stalwarts, they will forgive much. Especially if you turn the legionnaires back. You could return to the Mirage City. They can hardly blame you for what Solad did. You could claim your rightful place as their Miragerin.'

'No.'

He looked at me shrewdly. 'You're doing this for him. Denying your chance to have the kind of power you've always wanted, because it would be at his expense.' For once I felt his emotions, and they were such a contradictory mix I couldn't decide exactly what dominated. There was certainly plenty of rage, but I suspected most of that was directed at Temellin.

'So what if I am?'

'By the Goddess, you've changed!' He shook his head in a sort of bemused, wonder and then drawled,

'Do you realise that in a couple of months you have managed to change your name three times? Ligea- Derya-Shirin-Sarana. Aren't you overdoing things a bit, my dear?'

As usual he managed to drag a reluctant chuckle out of me. I said, 'Let's gallop again. I really don't want to confront Pinar.' I slapped a hand down on the neck of my mount and, startled, it leapt away up the track.

As I rode, I wondered if Brand was right. I wasn't sure I was as altruistic as he thought. True, I didn't want to come to the position of ruler at Temellin's expense, any more than Korden had. To strip the man I loved of everything he had been raised to believe was rightfully his would be to castrate him, to take away his reason for living. I loved him too much to do that to him. But there was a selfishness in my reluctance too. Once Temellin found out I hadn't lied about the Stalwarts, there was always the possibility we could get together again, that he might forgive me my deception. I could tell him I had decided that being closely related to him didn't matter after all… I was never one to close doors behind me if it were possible to leave them ajar.

On the other hand, if I took away Temellin's mandate to rule, I would be slamming a door and probably locking it as well, because part of him would never be able to forgive me.

Besides, I wasn't convinced I wanted to be Miragerin anyway. What joy would there be in ruling a country that didn't want me? Especially when the seed of a much better idea was already rattling around in my thoughts…

‹ -.-.-¦¦ ¦ ¦¦j-.-.-.‹s.:,h '‹¦›,-.H

That evening, when we pulled up to water our shleths at a roadside pond, Brand said, 'We have to stop, Ligea.

These beasts are ready to drop and I'm not much better. Vortex only knows how you feel.'

'Don't coddle me, Brand.' I smiled at him. 'That's one sin you've never been guilty of yet, so don't you dare start now just because I'm having a baby. But I agree with you: we'll stop here for the night. There's plenty of grazing and water.' I slid off my mount and started to unsaddle.

I had just finished hobbling my beast when a startled exclamation from Brand had me whirling, with my sword already halfway out of its scabbard. In the moments it had taken me to attend to the shleth, a building had appeared beside the pond. It was a solid structure of grey stone, three storeys high with several turrets and some pine trees on the roof.

'Where in the name of the Goddess did that come from?' Brand asked in consternation.

T imagine that's a gift from the Mirage Makers for tired travellers,' I replied, amused.

He gaped. 'Isn't it a mite, um, large for the two of us?'

T suspect the Mirage Makers have always been a little confused about the needs of humans. You only have to look at the Mirage City to see that.' I picked up my saddlebags. 'Shall we see if they have thought to supply any furniture? The idea of a pallet is very tempting.' I rubbed my buttocks ruefully. 'Two months in prison doesn't do much good to muscles.'

There were pallets, an abundance of them. There was also a surfeit of more trivial objects that weren't of the slightest use: toys, candelabra (but no candles), a spinning wheel, a small boat, enough saddlery to outfit a legion. Brand shook his head in bewilderment. 'Mad,' he muttered. 'Quite, quite mad.' He turned his attention to preparing a meal, while I ^went outside to

ward the building. I could not keep Pinar out, but I could fix it so I would be warned the moment the Miragerin-consort entered, if indeed she came at all.

Later that night, it was the breaking of that ward that woke me, sending a searing pain through my hand from my cabochon. The stone had flared and was still glowing its alarm. Quickly I crossed to Brand on the other side of the room and shook him awake. 'Someone's here,' I murmured.

I raised the cabochon to my ear, listened – and my heart sagged within me. It was Pinar.