The Initiate Page 4

  Taunan, sensing her unease, also looked down at the boy. He too had had doubts about allowing the other women to continue on alone, but felt there was no option open to him. After what he had witnessed in the mountain pass his priority was clear, and the last thing he needed was a gaggle of chattering Novitiates to impede progress.

  The mountains lay behind them now, dark and titanic, defying the sun and casting a grim shadow over the two riders as they reined in. The horses had picked their way through the rough scree that littered the lowest slopes, and ahead of them was the final stage of their journey -- the Star Peninsula.

  The Star Peninsula was the most northerly point of land in the entire world; a small but spectacular buttress of granite cliffs that reached out into a cold, hostile sea. Not even the hardiest fishermen sailed that ocean, and Taunan doubted if its unknown reaches would ever be explored by men. Born and brought up with the sea as a close neighbor he could empathize with the mingling of fear and love that the fishermen felt toward the element that controlled their lives. If matters had turned out differently he might himself have been a fisherman, braving the sea's power to grant life or death at a whim....

  He mentally shook himself. The Peninsula always affected him like this when he returned after an absence of more than a day or two; his first sight of the grey-green finger of land stretching away from the mountains' feet, the heavy breakers rolling in from the north to crash and spend themselves on the rocks hundreds of feet below, still had a power to entrall him that no amount of familiarity could dispel. From here it was difficult to make out the single stack of rock that stood out beyond the Peninsula's tip; evening mist and the angle of the sun obscured it. But he felt the familiar sensation of coming home. And the knowledge that home was the most widely known and respected -- yes, even feared, he told himself -- structure in the entire world, still gave him a frisson of pride when he stopped to consider it.

  Kael Amion had taken advantage of Taunan's reverie to dismount from her horse and kneel on the damp grass to look more closely at their young charge. At first glance the boy seemed to be asleep, but tell-tale signs warned her that this was no normal slumber. Sweat beaded the child's face; his cheeks were flushed and his breathing shallow and uneven. He had fallen into a coma, she suspected, and he silently prayed to Aeoris that Grevard, the Castle's senior physician, would be able to help him.

  Taunan twisted round in his saddle to observe the child. "How is he?" he asked.

  Kael Amion shook her head as she remounted her horse. "Not good. And the longer we delay here, the less I like his chances."

  A north-westerly wind caught them as they left the mountains' shelter and began to ride across the short, springy turf of the Peninsula. Never having had a good head for heights, Kael kept her gaze firmly on the ground a few paces ahead, only glancing behind her occasionally to check on the bumping litter. The Peninsula was a barren, empty stretch of land, unbroken by even a single bush or tree, a forsaken piece of clifftop; and not for the first time she wondered what kind of disturbed mind could have chosen to build a fortress here, when they had an entire world to choose from. But then, the Castle had been created before known history began -- if the records spoke truth, no sane man or woman could or would wish to fathom the dark motivations of the Old Ones....

  They had no more than half a mile to go, on a gently descending slope, before the Peninsula came to an abrupt end. Here lay the final part of their journey and the part Kael dreaded most: the crossing of the causeway that would take them to the Castle. Long ago, the ground on which the Castle stood had been an integral part of the Peninsula, but over the centuries the sea had taken advantage of a fault in the rock strata, eating at the granite until finally the cliff had given way to the ceaseless battering of the tides. Now the stack was joined to the mainland only by a perilously narrow natural bridge of rock that formed a great arch between the two. Each time she rode across that arch Kael's stomach turned over at the thought of the thin, worn span which alone separated her from a plummeting drop of nearly a thousand feet to the ever-hungry sea.

  Swallowing her fear she forced herself to look ahead to where the causeway's beginning was marked by two stone cairns. Raising her voice to be heard above the wind and the sea she called to Taunan, "Is the bridge wide enough to take us side by side, with the litter?"

  "It's wide enough for four, lady -- just."

  Shading her eyes against the slanting sun she peered across the bridge, trying not to think about how narrow and how precarious it looked. Now she could see the stack with greater clarity, and as always it gave her a momentary frisson when, even at this close range, there was no visible trace of the Castle. No one knew the full secret of the formless barrier that separated the Castle of the Star Peninsula from the rest of the land; it was believed that the Castle's structure encompassed an extra dimension, but since the final fall of the Old Ones no Adept had succeeded in unravelling the conundrum. They used the Maze -- as it was known -- to hold themselves aloof from idle scrutiny, but they did not fully understand what they used.

  Kael smiled wryly. The crossing had to be faced -- better to face it now, and have it over and done with the sooner. Touching light heels to her mount's flanks she urged it forward in line with Taunan, felt the slight drag on the improvised harness as the litter began to move. The entire sky was a bowl of blood-red light now as the sun set, and the glow on the sea made it look like an endless, heaving surface of molten steel. If she looked westward she might glimpse the stacks and islets off the mainland of West High Land Province as tiny black coals in the vista of crimson fire; while eastward the vast coastline reached away into gathering darkness.

  Kael Amion did not so much as glance to either the east or the west. Gripping the reins more firmly in one hand, and taking a surreptitious hold on the pommel of her saddle with the other, she drew a deep breath as the two horses stepped, side by side, onto the dizzying causeway.

  Chapter 3

  Arriving without mishap on the Castle side of the causeway, Kael Amion and Taunan urged their horses on to the expanse of greensward that spread away before them. For a newcomer, Kael thought, this was usually the worst moment of all, to reach the stack safely and yet still find no trace of the Castle, and she was thankful that the boy had not regained consciousness.

  Taunan pointed towards a familiar dark patch in the sward ahead, and carefully the two riders guided their horses over it, making sure that not one hoof strayed beyond its boundaries. And as they crossed it, the change began.

  It was gradual, subtle, but sure. The grass below shifted sideways, or seemed to, making Kael blink with momentary disorientation. And then directly ahead she saw something that a moment ago, it seemed, had not existed.

  It rose huge and dominant out of the ground, so black that it absorbed what little light now remained -- a vast silhouette of a place, silent and chill. At each of the four cardinal points a titanic spire soared skywards, and an archway had been cut into the black stone to make an entrance, shielded by a vast wooden gate. Kael knew what would follow, and held her breath as, with a soft and barely audible sound at their backs, the outside world -- road, mountain pass, causeway -- vanished, as though an invisible door had been closed on it, and only the stack itself and the restless, surrounding sea remained.

  Silence enveloped them. Even the roar of the tide had been swallowed into nothing, and as the eastern sky turned pewter-dark the distant horizon was blurring into night. Kael forcibly reminded herself that they were still in the world as she knew it; the Castle's peculiarities had simply altered time and space by a fraction. A useful precaution, under some circumstances...

  Tarod twisted suddenly on the litter, and moaned as though disturbed by the changes. Alerted by the sound Kael nodded to Taunan, and the two spurred their horses on.

  As they rode towards the towering bulk of the Castle, a small shape, only dimly visible in the deepening twilight, detached itself from the shadows by the gateway and came streaking across th
e grass towards them. Taunan smiled as he recognized it.

  "Our arrival hasn't gone unnoticed," he said. "That's Grevard's cat."

  The shape now resolved into that of a small, grey feline with brilliant gold eyes, which turned about as it reached them and ran alongside Taunan's horse. These cats v/ere native to the Northern regions, and though they tended to be feral they were nonetheless great opportunists, often inveigling their way into human settlements. Several dozen of them -- almost, but not quite, domesticated -- lived in and around the Castle, and Grevard the physician, among others, had adopted one as his own pet. The cats were telepathic, and with patience could make useful messengers, although the differences between human and feline consciousness made communication a haphazard affair. Now Kael felt the creature tentatively probing her own mind for a moment before it turned its attention to Taunan.

  "Can you persuade it to warn Grevard that we need him?" she asked hopefully.

  "I can but try." Taunan caught the cat's eye; it hesitated, holding up one paw -- then a second later it was racing away back in the direction of the Castle. Taunan watched it go, and shrugged expressively.

  It seemed that the cat had delivered its message, though, for as they neared the entrance the huge gate began to swing open. Light glimmered faintly from within; the arch yawned overhead, then the thump and rustle of hooves in the grass changed abruptly to a raucous, echoing clatter as they rode into the main courtyard.

  The Castle's grim exterior was in complete contrast to the sight that greeted them now. The courtyard, a huge flagstoned square, was surrounded on all sides by the sheer walls over which vines and creepers rambled unchecked. Here there was light; a soft amber glow from hundreds of windows that studded the walls' blackness, giving the scene an ethereal air. In the courtyard's very center an ornate fountain played, water catching the light and shattering it into cascades of tiny starpoints, and beyond the fountain, flanked on either side by colonnaded walks, a flight of steps led up to the main door. The peace, the tranquility, the stability of the scene moved Kael, as it always did, and she felt a familiar surge of pride at being welcome in this incredible place.

  Suddenly the spell was broken as people emerged to greet them, and among them Kael recognized a small, slight, fair-haired woman in middle age.

  "Themila!" The Sister slid gratefully from her saddle and returned the small woman's embrace.

  Themila Gan Lin, Initiate of the Circle, kissed her old friend on both cheeks. "My dear, what brings you back to us so quickly? Is there some trouble?" And then she saw the litter.

  Kael explained in as few words as possible, and Themila bent over the unconscious boy. "Poor child! You did right to bring him directly to us, Kael."

  "Here's Grevard," Taunan said with relief.

  The physician shouldered his way through the knot of curious Castle-dwellers which had gathered, greeted Kael and Taunan with absent-minded courtesy, then crouched beside the litter and looked down at the boy, probing lightly at his arm with practiced fingers. "Badly fractured bone and a high fever," he said. "The cat warned me he was in a poor way -- it seems the creature was right."

  "The cat told you that much?"

  "They're useful creatures at times like these, lady!" Grevard smiled at Kael's surprise. "And thanks to mine, a fire's being lit in one of the spare chambers at this very moment. Here now; let's see if we can move him litter and all -- no sense in disturbing him more than necessary." The physician's brisk, efficient manner reassured Kael, and she watched as two men, under Grevard's direction, hefted the litter and bore it away towards the main door. As it disappeared she was surrounded by people curious to know the identity of the stranger in their midst. Outsiders at the Castle were a rarity unless some formal celebration was in progress, and Themila's efforts to stem the questions and lead Kael away from the crowd were in vain -- until at last the hubbub was quieted by the arrival of a newcomer.

  The man had a hawklike face, shrewd eyes, hair sweeping back and greying at the temples, and at the sound of his voice everyone else fell deferentially silent. Like Taunan and Themila he wore an insignia on his shoulder, but his was a double circle, concentric and bisected by the same lightning-flash. Jehrek Banamen Toln, the High Initiate in person, head of the Circle.

  "Kael -- this is an unexpected surprise!" Jehrek's smile was warm, softening the sharp contours of his face. "Grevard tells me you've found a child in need of his attention."

  Taunan, who had been standing uncomfortably by with the horses, spoke up. "There's rather more to it than that, sir. If I might speak with you..."

  The High Initiate frowned. "Certainly, Taunan, if there's something I should know. But -- "

  Before he could say more, they were interrupted by a long-legged lad who came flying down the steps and all but cannoned into the High Initiate. Jehrek turned on him. "Keridil, where are your manners? I've told you before -- "

  The boy -- who was about the same age as Tarod -- grinned, unabashed. "I'm sorry, Father. But I saw the litter, and I wanted to know what happened."

  There were distinct echoes of Jehrek as a younger man in Keridil's light brown hair and tawny eyes, and Taunan hid a smile, wondering irreverently if the High Initiate had been equally ingenuous at the same age.

  "Whatever it is, it's no concern of yours at present," Jehrek told his son sternly. "Taunan and I have matters to discuss."

  "Then may I help Grevard with the newcomer?"

  "Certainly not! Grevard has enough on his hands without the meddling of small boys. If you wish to be useful, you may escort the Lady Kael Amion to the dining hall and find food for her." And, as Keridil tried to hide his disappointment, the High Initiate bowed to Kael. "If you'll pardon us..."

  Kael smiled and nodded, allowing Themila to take her arm, and watched as the two men moved away across the courtyard.

  Jehrek Banamen Toln leaned back in his upholstered chair and stared into the small votive flame that burned constantly on a table by his window. In the low light of the room Taunan thought that he looked strained.

  "It's not a pretty tale, Taunan," Jehrek said slowly. "A child who can command power such as that -- "

  "I don't believe he was even aware that he summoned anything at all, sir. Certainly he had no idea of what it was."

  Jehrek smiled thinly. "He's not alone in that." "Indeed not." Taunan shifted uncomfortably. "But there's no doubt the boy has power, and an innate talent for using it."

  "And you're about to tell me that we need such power as never before. I know, Taunan; I know."

  "The Warps are growing more frequent, more unpredictable. There's something afoot in the world; something that threatens us. And we're no closer than we've ever been to discovering its cause.

  Jehrek gave the younger man a sharp look and Taunan flushed, realizing that he'd made the mistake of trying to tell the High Initiate what he knew all too well. "For the time being that's irrelevant," Jehrek said. "My present concern is the boy. What, by all the powers, was he doing in that hellhole to begin with?"

  "He hasn't yet spoken of it," Taunan said, "but I have a suspicion. We've learned nothing of his clan, or where in the world he comes from. If he has exhibited such -- talents -- before, which seems likely enough, then -- well, people are superstitious. His clanfolk might have reacted unfavorably..."

  "And preferred to quietly dispose of anything that smacked of trouble? Yes, perhaps. When he recovers, we must see where the truth lies. Meanwhile, Taunan, you acted rightly in saving the lad. And we do need new blood... just so long as it's clean blood."

  "He didn't know what he was doing, Jehrek. I'm sure of that!"

  The High Initiate made a placatory gesture. "Of course, of course; I'm not disputing it. Only..."

  "Sir?"

  "Ah, nothing. Just put it down to the peculiar fancies of an old man who has spent too long within these four walls." Jehrek rose, indicating that the interview was coming to an end. "I trust your judgment, Taunan -- in some ways, maybe better than I
trust my own these days. I think I'm growing jaded. But -- watch that boy, my friend."

  "I shall." Taunan moved towards the door, opened it, then turned back with a slight smile on his face. "We'll spare no pains to tap whatever potential he has, Jehrek. And if I'm right, it'll be the making of him."

  He went out, the door closed behind him, and Jehrek Banamen Toln spoke softly into the empty air.

  "Or the ruin of us all..."

  "Tarod... Tarod, can you hear me?" Tarod turned over in the bed, surprised by the low pitch

  of the woman's voice. His mother's tone was high, almost shrill. She rarely spoke so gently to him -- and she didn't know his secret name....

  He opened his green eyes and almost cried aloud in shock as the unfamiliar room swam into focus. Dark walls, rich furnishings, the strange, reddish light filtering in at the window and casting disturbing shadows -- this wasn't his home!