The Ivory Lyre

Chapter 19

Smothered by the darkness, Teb tried to feel some hint of the lyre from somewhere. He was blinded by blackness, could not move beyond bars. Even Seastrider’s voice did not reach him. His very sense of time seemed warped, so he didn’t know if it was still night. The sun had been low when he had left Seastrider on the mountain, the shadow of the mountain itself stretched long across the city when he and Gram had made their way into the palace. He reached out for the lyre’s power and could feel nothing.

But it was there, somewhere in the labyrinth of the dark palace caves. Somewhere giant lizards guarded the Ivory Lyre of Bayzun, and he meant to know where.

Maybe Accacia knew, after all.

He began to question her, weaving his questions slowly, taking his time. She remained silent. He could not see or touch her to make the job easier.

At last she stirred in the darkness with a little rustling sound, and laughed. “Do you really think I would tell you anything, after you got me locked in this cell?”

“If you will tell me where the lyre of Bayzun is hidden, maybe I can get us out of here.”

“What difference would it make to know where it is? If you don’t have it, how could you use it? What could it do anyway against iron bars?”

“Did you believe in dragons before you saw them? Did you believe in the power of bards? The power of the queen?”

She was silent.

“If the dark wins the last battle, Accacia—if the dark were to rule Dacia—do you still think you would become a part of their court? Did you see any special favors when they took us captive in the queen’s chambers?”

“They will come to get me. Once Sardira’s temper cools, he will. They will not let you out, Prince Tebmund. Nor will they release my grandmother, not until they shovel out your bones.”

Teb stared through the blackness. Her grandmother?

But of course, he should have known that. Hadn’t Accacia told him? She seemed to have told him all about her life. He had not been paying attention. Their two mothers, Accacia’s and Kiri’s—they had been sisters. But she was trying to lead him away from talk of the lyre. Did she fear the lyre so much?

“Are the lizards all dead, Accacia? Did they all die in the stadium? Or do some still guard the lyre? Where, Accacia? Where do the lizards now gather?” She sighed, and he heard the faint rustle of her skirt again. “Where, Accacia? Where are the lizards?”

“In the sea vault.”

“Where is the sea vault?”

“Beneath the mountain where it touches the sea on the far side. Sardira hardly ever opens the passage to the sunken cave. There is gold there, and he keeps lizards on the rocks around the cave and in the passages leading to it.”

“How many passages? Where do they begin?”

“One in the sea. One from near the treasure chamber you forced open. That is the one Sardira uses.”

“How close are we to the sea vault?”

She sighed and was silent for a few minutes, as if thinking over the lay of the passages. “Not far, I suppose. I imagine this cave isn’t far from the southern sea cliffs.”

He let the power ease away. All three of them were silent with their own thoughts. He lay down on the cool stone floor of his cell, tired suddenly but his mind alive with new hope. Beneath the mountain where it touched the sea, a passage to a sunken cave . . . He stretched his body long across the stone and felt his tension ease, then reached with his thoughts, toward Seastrider.

*

Within the warring city, within the broken tower, Kiri curled tighter against the stone parapet in fitful sleep, waking each time there was a sound from the street, or when Camery, standing guard, moved quickly to take aim. Kiri would jerk awake, then drop into sleep again, exhausted. Twice when Camery nudged her she was up at once, bow taut, her whole being keyed to sudden action. Then when the danger passed she dropped down to sleep hardly knowing she had stirred. Yet while her mind and body were tuned so tight to war, something within her dreamed of peace. She saw this war as a tiny, insane space in time. She saw all life suddenly and stupidly seeking to destroy itself, and woke angry that there was fighting at all.

But then she woke fully, her mind clearer. It was not all life that was seeking destruction. It was the un-life, the dark evil of the un-men, that sought to destroy the precious gift of life that all human blood and that of the many animals shared. The dark had made those dreams.

She thought of tired rebel soldiers sleeping hidden all over the city, nervous and edgy, waiting for dawn to begin again the terrible battle, and wondered if they had dreamed the same, and shivered. The dark knew it was not easy to fight at night, too easy to kill your own people. Night was a nervous truce breached often enough so guards stood at every shelter. Now the dark had breached that truce in a new and hideous way. She saw Camery yawning and rose to take the bow from her hands.

*

There should have been no new boats docking at the quays, for the three dragons had swamped and sunk every boatload of dark soldiers that moved anywhere in the northerly seas. But well to the south, unlighted boats clung to the black sea close beneath the cliffs of Edosta. They put in silently to Dacia, and the four heavy boats spewed forth horses and troops, the soldiers pulling dark capes over their yellow tunics. The horses had been silenced with wrapped bits and padded shoes. As dawn touched the seam of sky and sea far in the east, these warriors entered the city.

*

On the mountain, Seastrider woke. She lifted her head. Her long muscles tightened and expanded with sudden nerves. She stared up at the black sky, her unease making her shudder all through her long, gleaming body. In her mind she saw Tebriel, where he was held in a dark, close place. She twisted and thrashed, trying to see where, exactly where. This was unclear, but his message of a cave and passage touching the sea was vivid. She slipped out from beneath the trees, her wound making her stiff and slow, and pulled herself up toward the crest of the mountain.

Soon she lay along the crest staring over at the pale wash of the distant sea and the black jumble of the war-torn city unrelieved by any light. She gazed down at the palace, dark and still. She rumbled once deep in her throat, then turned back to examine the mountain again, for it was there, deep within, that she felt the sense of Teb.

She laid her head down along the mountain, crawling and scenting like a hunting snake, her tongue slipping in and out, her head hugging stone and earth and twisting one way, then the other, as she sought down along the mountain’s wild reaches. Her newly forming scar tissue loosened, her hurt muscles warmed and eased until she moved more freely. She scented the inner shapes of the mountain, its caves and passages and the turnings of its rocky coast.

*

Well past midnight, as a group of king’s soldiers slept inside a tavern with the door barricaded and two of their comrades standing guard, a shadow slipped silently across the cobbles, its tail lashing. It killed the guards. Soon five great cats climbed the stone building, from shed roof to window ledge, then pushed through the shutters into the dark rooms.

All five returned the same way, jumping down to the empty street, leaving dead soldiers behind. So the great cats prowled the war-torn city, five here, three there, seven, a great tom alone—all taking their toll, then vanishing. But suddenly they heard two mounted battalions coming softly along the street on padded hooves. As the battalions appeared, silhouetted against the dawn, the great cats slipped into cottages and shops to warn Garit’s troops. Men rose, armed, and slipped out into the dawn’s shadows.

In the tower, Kiri woke Camery as a great cat lingered on the stair. The two archers crouched ready. A thin seam of dawn’s light shone at their backs. Soon came the soft hush, hush of rag-shod hooves along the cobbles. All over the city, rebel soldiers moved closer to the approaching riders, and in the tower Kiri and Camery held steady, their bows taut.

At the cry of “Redbull,” the rebels struck, swordsmen and cats and spear throwers leaping out of cover to panic the long line of horses; mounts reared and spun, swords rang against swinging metal; the archers aimed high to pick off mounted men above their own comrades. Great cats leaped and brought down riders. As uniformed riders fell, rebels snatched up their weapons, caught their horses, and tore the yellow and green tunics off them. But too late they heard the racket of hooves, and four more battalions pounded in to block the surrounding streets, green-clad warriors fresh from sleep in the palace and mounted on fresh horses. They pounded into the melee, cutting and slashing. Kiri fired and fired again, she and Camery back to back. Then Kiri glanced up at the mountain and froze.

The great ridge of the black mountain had turned white. It was moving, gleaming in the rising dawn like silver and pearl as coils of the dragon’s body caught and turned the light. Kiri pulled her gaze away, taking aim, firing, but longed to look again. The king’s soldiers charged the tower, and she choked back a cry as they battered at the door with huge timbers. Her eyes met Camery’s. They put aside their bows, drew swords, and waited at the top of the stairs. The pounding shook the tower so hard Kiri thought the stone would crumble. The door crashed in, she heard Elmmira’s angry scream, then she was dodging the sword of the first soldier; she struck deep beneath his ribs and he went down. The next fell to Camery’s sword; the next up the stairs lost his footing dodging Kiri’s sword and fell onto his mates. Kiri and Camery finished them where they thrashed in a bloody tangle.

At the bottom of the stairs they found Elmmira with her teeth in a soldier’s throat. They ran directly out into the battle, grabbed the first riderless horses they came to, and piled aboard, Elmmira leaping beside them. Kiri’s frightened mare reared, then ran, leaping bodies, dodging battling men, pounding toward the mountain. There was power on the mountain, the power of the dragon, a power that could save Dacia. Where was Tebriel? Were he and the white dragon so badly hurt that they could not attack? Where were the other dragons?

*

In the blackness of his cell, Teb felt the sense of Seastrider touch him, then subside. He lay thinking of the sea vault, imagining the lyre there, making a picture in his mind of it for Seastrider; but he was frantic to be free, and soon he rose and began to feel along the base of the bars where they were set into mortar between the stones that formed the floor. Surely the mortar must be ancient, surely it must have a weak spot.

“Gram, if I could find a place to dig, do you still have your hair clip? Could you rip your skirt into a cord to tie to it and throw it to me?”

To his left, Accacia snorted. But on his right, in the blackness, Gram chuckled. “Yes, the clip. . . . Then the sound of ripping. “Here it comes.”

A clink hit the bars; he heard the clip drop. He felt around his feet and through the bars, but couldn’t find it. “It’s gone too far outside. Try again.”

It took Gram nine throws, aiming toward his voice, before the metal clasp fell in between the bars, so close it grazed his foot. He grabbed it up and knelt again to examine the floor of his cell, his fingers touching the mortar as delicately as an otter’s paws would examine the sea floor.

Each time he found a tiny crack, he worked at it with the metal. But the mortar was hard; he could not break away so much as a chip. Soon he grew disgusted with the frail trinket and was about to throw it away when he came to a corner where the mortar was rough and crumbling.

*

The jagged rocks along the cliff tore at Seastrider as she searched for a way in toward Teb. She sensed the hollowness of caves. At last she found the opening to a tangle of caves that she knew, by the echoes, went far back into the mountain. She could sense Teb, sense his stubborn hope, and that kept her seeking. She moved deep in, not liking to be underground. But she sensed something else ahead of her, the hint of a bright and powerful magic. She pushed forward eagerly.

From above her on the mountain she heard the screams of dragons. The others had returned. She felt the vibrations of their bodies as they settled among the trees and boulders; then came a cry loud enough to crack the mountain right through. It was Nightraider, bugling. Only one thing made a dragon bugle. Nightraider had sensed his bard. The commotion was terrible and wonderful. Seastrider wanted to pull out of the caves and look, but she would not leave Teb. She sucked in fresh air and moved deeper in. She could see Teb in vision, stubbornly digging at the floor with a puny bit of metal, brushing the mortar away with his hands.

*

Kiri clung to the side of the mountain staring up, frozen with wonder at the sight above her as the great black dragon reared into the sky, bugling. Beside her Camery stared, too, her cheeks flaming and her eyes huge.

They had released their horses at the foot of the cliff where the climbing grew steep, pulled the saddles and bridles from the poor blowing beasts and sent them wandering away. Now, above them, the black dragon was a turbulence of dark coils, his wings snapping over the edge of the cliff, a huge clawed foot sliding over a boulder. Then the dragon’s head was so close they could feel his hot breath, as he stared down at Camery, his eyes yellow and luminous. She looked up at him, then laughed out loud, and struggled upward fighting to get to him. He bugled again, then reached down.

His great mouth came over Camery so wide open they could see every knife-long fang. Camery looked up unafraid. He took her between his jaws with infinite gentleness. She pulled herself in, clinging to his ivory teeth, and he lifted her and set her on his back between his spreading wings. There Camery clung to him, her arms trying to circle his neck, and her bright hair spilling across his black scales.

As he gathered himself to leap skyward, she sat up straight on his back, clutching at the scallops of mane along his neck, pressing her booted legs tight to his sides. He lifted into the dawn.

Kiri watched them soar over the mountain. She could still feel the wind of the dragon’s wings across her upturned face. The stone beneath her hands felt lifeless. She was only a small, earthbound creature.

But then the knowledge that there were dragons overrode all else. There were dragons again on Tirror. Her pleasure in Camery’s freedom filled her soul. She began to climb again, up to where the other dragons waited.