The Changing Land Read online

Baran had already extinguished the lantern and set it upon a shelf. He turned toward Semirama now, smiling weakly. Semirama had suddenly drawn herself up very straight and her eyes were flashing. He was not unaware of the arcane significance of the gesture her left hand was now commencing, though he had never suspected she might contain such a force.

  "Wait, Majesty! Forbear!" he cried. "It is not as you might think! Give me leave to explain!" and he wondered whether he could summon the Extra Hand before she completed the gesture.

  She paused.

  "Tell me, then."

  He sighed.

  "In attempting to solve the problem of the jammed mirror," he said, "I sent a spirit within it to investigate other astral damage. I was going to confer with it shortly to learn the extent of the troubles. I set this man to watching, in case there were any unusual developments. You have just heard his report. I should go at once and try to determine what occurred. It may give us the clue we need to open the mirror once again."

  Her hand dropped.

  "Yes," she said, "you had better be going. Let me know what you learn."

  "I will. I will do that."

  He turned and broke into a run.

  Semirama looked at the two slaves who had assisted in transporting Dilvish and at the one who had just brought Baran the message.

  "What are you standing here for?" she said. "Return to your duties or your quarters, as the cases may be."

  They departed quickly. She watched until they were out of sight. Only then did she turn and make her way through the great hall, heading toward the doorway which led to the north-south corridor.

  The hall had grown darker now that the sun was sinking, its only windows being high upon the west wall. As she passed eastward within it, she saw a slight movement off to her left. The form of a light-haired man who was not present in the hall was there in the mirror, standing beside a white pillar which was also not present in the hall. She paused and stared.

  It was the man she had seen on the night of the invisible party, alone now, wearing a green robe, smiling. She had not realized on the last occasion just how handsome he was, how very much he resembled—

  He raised a hand and beckoned to her. A place in the glass began to shimmer and she felt almost as if she could pass through at that point to join him.

  She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, smiling back at him. Just her luck to be in such a hurry…

  Exiting the hall, she moved quickly along the corridor, passing an occasional servant lighting tapers in sconces and high candlesticks. She continued back into the shadow-decked heart of the place until she came to the gallery which ran along the front of the building, leading at last to the Chamber of the Pit. She paused only to look out through the window again, down to where she had first seen him.

  The pond was still in clear, close view, and the girl and the horse were indeed gone. What had she been to him, anyway? Semirama wondered as she reached out to reverse the focusing spell.

  The pond reflected the mountains, part of the castle, and the setting sun. The thin strip of beach beside it shone whitely, smooth; the rocks of the slope were occasional, dark interruptions.

  For a moment, then, it appeared that she saw a quick movement, below and far to the right.

  She hesitated, then altered the window's focus, shifting it, bringing that section of slope nearer. She studied it for several minutes, but there was no recurrence.

  She smiled faintly, pleased that she had not surprised another fortune-seeker at close quarters. It did emphasize the need for haste in her present undertaking, however, she decided as she detuned the glass and the prospect slid backward and away.

  Departing the window, she hurried along the gallery, sand crunching beneath her sandals. The distinctive odor of the place came to her now. When she entered the room, she felt the humid warmth of the pit.

  She approached it, seated herself upon the edge, and gave voice to the call. Minutes passed, and though she repeated it several times, there was no response. This was not extraordinary, for he meditated at times, withdrawing much of his awareness from the world at large. She hoped that he was not beginning one of his periodic states of dormancy, however. It would be a piece of very bad timing for him to undertake it now.

  She uttered the call again. There were other explanations also, but she did not like to think of any of them. She leaned far forward and added a note of urgency.

  Then she felt his presence within her mind, approaching, gathering strength, indefinably troubled. She braced herself for a purely mental communication which did not occur. Instead, the water began to roil. She waited, but more time passed and still he did not appear. Waves of feelings then began to wash over her—dark, malevolent things rising batlike from the pit—touched only lightly and occasionally with the qualities of playfulness and curiosity which normally dominated this place.

  "What is the matter?" she inquired in that chirping tongue she used here.

  Again there was no reply, but the waves of feelings, emotions, increased. The atmosphere of the place grew somber, sinister. Then suddenly it broke, and an almost cheerful sensation tinged with a note of triumph arose. This grew in force as the others were swept away, pushed into the background. The waters were disturbed again, and a portion of that amorphous, dark form broke the surface, a vague, pearly aura glowing faintly about it, blurring patterns shifting constantly within it, distorting the shifting bulk beneath them.

  "Sister and lover and priestess, greetings, from the many places where I dwell," rose the formal salutation in that same language.

  "And to you, from that one in this place, Tualua, kin of the Elders. You are troubled. What is the cause? Tell me."

  "Queen in this place, Semirama, it is the painful growth cycle of those of my kind. Kin to both darkness and light, I possess both natures."

  "As do we, Tualua."

  "Ah, but men manage to mix them in the brief span of their days. It must make life so much simpler."

  "It brings its problems."

  "Ah, but ours brings eon after eon of recrimination, each time for the previous cycle when the opposite ruled—until that hoped-for, impossible day when our natures merge and we are fit to join our kin in the places beyond this hell of polarities."

  An almost unbearable wave of sadness swept over her, and she wept uncontrollably. A tentacle rose, almost shyly, and its tip touched her foot.

  "Do not grieve for me, child. Weep rather for mankind. For when the dark will comes over me and I repent these days, my power will go forth across the land and all men will suffer—save yourself, as you serve me, for you shall grow strong and bright and hard and cold as the morning star—and I shall be stronger than ever before and the world will tremble onto its foundations as in the early days when others of my kind of disjunct cycle warred for the soul of man."

  "Is there nothing that can be done?" she asked.

  "I can still hold it back, and I will for as long as I can"

  "What of the good mage Jelerak and the debt all of your kind owe to him of old?"

  "What debt there was, Semirama, has long since been paid, believe me. Nor is he that same man whom once you knew."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He is—changed. Perhaps he, too, has his light and dark natures."

  "I find this difficult to believe, though I have recently heard rumors. The last I knew of him in the old days, he had been ill for a long while—years, possibly—following the fall of Hohorga…"

  "Then it may be kindest to say that he never recovered."

  "He treated me very kindly when he called me back…"

  "Of course. He needed you. You possess an extremely specialized skill—for a human. And there is something else…

  "I regret most," he continued, "that he and I may soon have much in common."

  "You have just turned my world upside down," she said.

  "I am sorry, but I had no way of foreseeing when the change would begin to come over me. I will still help
you with anything you wish, in any way that I can, for as long as I am able."

  She reached out and touched the tentacle.

  "If there is any way that I can help you…"

  "Nothing," he said. "No mortal can help me. Ironically, I will become truly mad for a time, during the transition period. I will send you away before it comes over me, to a place I have provided for you beyond time and space, where you will know much joy. My other self will doubtless recall you when there is need for your services."

  "It saddens me greatly to hear these things."

  "And me to tell them. So let us talk instead of what it was that brought you here just now."

  "That matter has just been further confused," she said, "by things you have told me. Baran is doing something to the mirror. He's placed at least one spirit inside it. He's probably installing another right now—"

  "I have paid small heed to these mortal affairs, save as you bade me. So tell me now who Baran is and why anything he might do with a mirror should matter to you."

  "Baran is the dark, heavy man who sometimes accompanies me here."

  "The one with the hand trick?"

  "Yes. He is Jelerak's steward in this place. The mirror—in a chamber partway up the north tower —is a means of transportation for Jelerak among his many abodes. Jelerak was injured in a sorcerer's duel some time ago, and we thought that he might be coming here, where I could beg power of you to heal him. While we awaited his arrival, many others who thought him dead or weakened sought to storm this place, that they might attempt to bind you to their own uses."

  A ripple of amusement flowed past her.

  "It was then that I thought of the reason for which Jelerak had restored me—to assist you during last summer's illness…"

  "My first spell of madness in centuries. Up until then I had been furnishing him whatever power he asked of me for those favors of long ago of which you spoke. He did not realize what was occurring. Neither did I at the time."

  "Nor I, of course. Though I might have recalled some very old dark sayings, I had never witnessed the condition before. But when the interlopers came, I thought it well to suggest you repeat the effects upon the land hereabout in full awareness, to keep them away. I knew that this could not impede Jelerak, for he could always employ the mirror to journey here. I would have told Baran my strategy, but by then I was finding his attentions annoying. Better to let him believe that a more difficult situation such as last summer's had arisen, and that I was the only one who might deal with it effectively. The deception gave me more power over him. But all this while, I believed the mirror to be in proper condition. Now I am not so certain. I believe that he might have been blocking it all along."

  "Why would he do such a thing?"

  "When you set the land without in turmoil, it barred every easy means of entry here, save for the mirror. If he found a way to block the mirror, then we were completely isolated, and Jelerak himself could not return for the renewal he would be seeking. The purpose, I believe now, is that Baran has become like the invaders themselves. He wished to keep this place to himself while he sought after a means of controlling you."

  "He does not then realize that I served Jelerak willingly, not under any compulsion—as the doings of humans have meant little to me these many years?"

  "No. I never told him. The less he knew, the better."

  "Then what is the problem?"

  "Now I am uncertain. Originally, I came to ask you to open the way of the mirror and to keep it open against any attempts he may make to close it off again. This, so that Jelerak might return and be refreshed and deal with Baran as he sees fit. Now, though, that you have told me what you have about Jelerak, I do not know what to say."

  "It would be a simple matter to unblock the mirror, though I could not promise to hold it open were another spell of madness to come over me."

  "… and then I was going to ask you to recommence the emanations and disturb the land again, to keep unwanted visitors out while giving Jelerak opportunity to enter through the glass—also to convince Baran that you were still uncontrollable, so that he would not bother me to be his accomplice in a fruitless task"

  "And now?"

  "Now it has become a choice between evils. I do not know. Baran is not nearly so wise, and he likes me. I believe that he would be easy for me to control. Yet I still feel a measure of loyalty to Jelerak. No matter what you may say of him, he has always treated me well."

  "No matter what the situation, you might depend upon that."

  "Out of respect to my station, of course. He was no stranger to the court of Jandar."

  "That may or may not be true, but it was something more personal that I had in mind."

  She stiffened. Then she laughed.

  "No, that I cannot believe. Jelerak? He was always almost monkish in his habits. He was devoted solely to his Arts."

  "He could have called back any of your illustrious line to talk with me."

  "True."

  "His main love is power and the domination of men's spirits. Yet there are two human attachments of which he has not entirely rid himself—a small, fraternal feeling toward the priests of Babrigore, and a measure of devotion toward yourself. You were always the unattainable queen and priestess."

  "Then he hid it well."

  "But not from Tualua, for I have seen his heart and all things in it—even those of which he himself is unaware. But I tell you this now for a reason. My will is crumbling, and I wish to provide for my own before it is completely shattered. Even as we have been speaking here I cast my eye along future time-lines. There is a dark spot ahead which I cannot penetrate. I believe that he is in some way involved beyond that point. My first intent was to send you to the place I have prepared for you, for your protection."

  Her thoughts ran back to the man in chains.

  "I will not go," she stated.

  "I saw that also. Which is why I have told you of the sorcerer's human frailty regarding yourself. It is a slim thing at best, of which even he is only partly aware and does not fully understand. I caution you not to rely upon it, yet the knowledge may serve you in some way during the dark hour."

  She embraced the tentacle.

  "Tualua! Tualua! Perhaps you are stronger than you think. Can you not fight the dark will and perhaps overcome it?"

  The atmosphere about her became heavy and brooding even as she spoke.

  "That," Tualua finally answered, "is not the pattern of my kind, as I understand it. I am trying and I will continue to try. Yet I fear that my struggles only train it to greater strength."

  "Do not give up. Hold out for as long as you can. Call upon your kin the Elder Gods if you must!"

  Something like laughter shook the vault.

  "My illustrious forbears have long since abandoned this plane to which I am confined. They would not hear me in their high abodes. No, we must prepare ourselves for a trial, and I must concern myself again with human matters, for I find them entwined with my own. Listen now to what I say, for I feel the madness rising again…"

  The steaming water of his brightly tiled pool covered Holrun's body to just above shoulder level, and the aroma of an exotic incense filled the air around him. The planes of his face were angular; his eyes—now half lidded—were dark and given to dartings inquisitive and expressive. His mouth, even in repose, quirked toward a slightly sinister smile. He was leaning forward now as one of his favorites, kneeling behind him, massaged his shoulders beneath water level. Another passed him a cooling drink in the carved, curved tusk of an extinct predator. He sipped from it and handed it back, trailing his fingertips along the girl's arm as she withdrew.

  When his crystal summoned him, he cursed softly and ran a hand through his thatch of unruly brown hair, shrugging off the other girl's ministrations, and turned toward the large globe he had set within the wall surrounded by a mosaic of delicate tiles in the form of an enormous eye. He focused his attention and the image of Meliash appeared within the pupil.


  "I am sorry to disturb you," Meliash began.

  "It happens, when you're the youngest member of the Council. Good thing, too, I suppose, if you want to get anything done. Those doddering old unwrapped mummies would take forever to decide to relieve themselves. Someone has to goose them with a hot poker every now and then, and I'm elected. How's everything in the Sangaris? I—"

  "The Kannais."

  "Yeah, the Kannais. I really envy you being out in the field, you know? This administrative stuff—well, it's got to be done."

  He halted abruptly and stared, beginning to smile.

  "Yes," Meliash said. "There have been some changes here recently, and I feel that the Council ought to be made aware of them. We've turned up some very interesting information, also. In fact, I believe that the time has finally come for the Council to take action in a matter directly involving Jel—"

  "Easy! Easy!" Holrun was suddenly standing, palm upraised, as his masseuse rushed to fit a robe over his shoulders. "The ether has ears as well as other appendages, I sometimes think. Let me take this on my other crystal. It's got security spells you wouldn't believe. I'll call you right back."

  He waved his hand and Meliash faded.

  Holrun stalked out of the pool and stepped into a pair of sandals. He headed away from the grotto and down a sloping tunnel, raising two fingers to his mouth and whistling a loud, shrill note. A pale light began to glow within long bands of white stone set into the tunnel walls at either hand.

  Smiling, he turned a corner and entered an L-shaped chamber carved out of stone on two levels. He snapped his fingers and logs began blazing within a recess directly ahead, the smoke rising up a jagged fissure screened by orange stalactites about which long chains of carved bodies transmitted erotic impulses in great spirals; fat candles flickered to life on high stands, revealing a neat but densely packed room containing almost every variety of magical equipment employed by over thirty nations and tribes; every visible spot on the floor, vaulted ceiling and barrel walls was painted with arcane symbols.

  He moved immediately to a shelf at his left and took down a small lemon-wood casket which he bore to a stand in a corner near the fire. With his foot, he drew a low stool covered with gray fur across the geometrically patterned rug. Opening the casket, he withdrew a smoky, almost black crystal which he set in place upon the stand. Then he seated himself upon the stool, took a single deep breath and released it, said one word: