What Lies Within (Book 5) (9 page)

   How much would he surmise? And how much should she now tell him?

   To the first question the answer was wholly dependent upon the power of Shenwolf's imagination. But Issul did not doubt that the truth was far, far stranger than anyone could really begin to conceive. As to the second, she remained in two minds.

  
But if Shenwolf has come from Orbelon's world!

   The thought set her heart hammering. What might he be capable of knowing?

  
If I tell him something, just a little, could it plant a seed within him? Might it help something in his lost memory stir?

   It was a hope, a possibility, she could not let fall.

   'Shenwolf, I have just seen Urch-Malmain.'

   She felt the young soldier's keen eyes upon her.

   'He is here?'

   'No, but Triune has an effectuary which enables us to look upon him.'

   'Then where is he?'

   'We . . . we are
n’t sure.' She could reveal no more. Not yet. She turned her head to meet Shenwolf's gaze. The look in his eyes was anguished. She wanted to help him. Wanted to comfort him. She recalled how, at the Karai camp, in Ombo's keep, again when she had fled Gordallith and his men, Shenwolf had been there when she needed him. And she
had
needed him. She would not be here now without him.

   And there was more. She felt the confusion rise in her breast,
a tightness in her throat. Her face grew warm. She wrenched her eyes away, almost letting loose a sob. So close to . . .

  
'Issul?'

   Shenwolf's hand gently touched her arm. She stood, too quickly, took two steps away, her back to him. She spoke breathlessly, hardly thinking. 'Triune cannot say precisely where Urch-Malmain is. I believe her in that regard. But she has brought us closer to him. He plays a significant, perhaps crucial part in this ever more strange business that besets us. Of this I’m now sure. I
’ll describe him to you. Perhaps you can-- perhaps it will help you. You might remember something. He is perhaps forty years of age, not tall. His hair is thin, near black, and he wears it oiled and tight upon his skull, with a short queue at the nape of his neck. His face is thin and unappealing. Dark circles ring his eyes. His mouth-- his lips are fleshy, and red against otherwise sallow flesh. Most noticeably, he is deformed, almost a cripple. One arm is withered, his body is twisted, he has a pronounced limp. . .' She stopped, and with some effort turned and looked down at Shenwolf again. 'Do you recall anyone of that description?'

   He shook his head. 'No.'

   'Well, reflect upon it. Something may come to you.'

   At the other end of the chamber Orbelon stirred and made a sound.
'Hmmmh!'

   Issul crossed to him; using his staff as a crutch he climbed laboriously to his feet. 'What have you found?'

   'Little. Your real question, I think, is 'have I located Leth and your children?' The answer is: I have not. At least, with no more clarity than previously. But the sensation of lightening - of something having changed - which I mentioned earlier, persists, as does the uncanny perception of Urch-Malmain's presence.'

   Issul concealed her disappointment. 'Orbelon, earlier you insisted upon speaking privately with Triune. Why?'

   'To discuss matters of past, present and future. To establish a confidence, and to throw myself upon her mercy.'

  
'Her mercy?'

   'I required her confidence and assistance. Not unnaturally, she was suspicious. Though we have suffered similar fates, we are yet adversaries of old. I had necessarily to convince her that I have no interest in renewing old conflicts.'

   'And how did you achieve that?'

  
'With the truth. Triune knows now of the world I have engendered. She understands its fragility, how I seek to know and understand and nurture it. And she knows that she could so easily destroy it. I cannot threaten her.'

   'But she could destroy it now. In a single sweep be rid of both you and Urch-Malmain.' Issul was shaking. 'You have put my children and Leth in her hands!'

   Orbelon's head swung from side to side. 'Ah, but it would amuse her more mightily to have Urch in her clutches. Who knows what she might learn from him? And she also understands the purpose of the ages-old conflict: not to annihilate her enemies, but to create and perpetuate conflict in order to maintain the flux that is Enchantment.'

   Issul's anger did not subside. 'That’s truly it, isn't it? You play games, all of you! You joust and jab and
grapple, all to maintain the conflict, all to enable Enchantment to exist and grow. And if humans and other races are destroyed in the process, well, what does it matter? We are so far below you, we are not even worthy of your passing thought. You just play your vile games, on and on!'

   'Not I, dear Issul. Not I. Not any more. But for the others here in Enchantment, yes. They, like you, do not wish their existence to end. They fight to survive.'

   Issul turned away. 'What hope have we?'

   'I have told you before, when all you see is darkness and all you feel confusion and pain, you must look for the light within. You have
come this far, fair Queen Issul.'

   She looked back at him. Shenwolf stood stiffly behind her. There was a smearing of light across her vision, a bright flicker, a giddying sensation, and she was back in the other chamber where Triune stood before the seven golden disks and the tangle of glowing filaments. Two of the disks glowed red. Another was rapidly spinning.

   'Someone is coming through!' declared Triune in one urgent voice.

   Issul blinked, recovered herself and peered into the hazy space within the glowing wires. A new scene showed: an area of dense woodland. The patch of discolouration hovering above the ground was more pronounced. Even as she watched it suddenly flared. An aperture appeared at its centre and a strange figure tumbled through and fell to the ground. The aperture closed, the cloud shimmering, brilliantly light purple. Into Issul's mind flashed the recollection of Shenwolf's tale of how he had first found himself in this world.

   The purple cloud dimmed and all other thoughts were expelled from Issul's mind as she saw clearly for the first time the figure that had come through the Portal.

   It was a warrior-knight, clad in a suit of fabulous armour of ribbed plate, tinged sapphire blue. Upon his head he wore a great plumed and horned helm. His visor was raised, but his head and torso were turned away so the face was indiscernible. In his arms he clasped two small children.

   Their faces could not be seen either, but Issul gasped, her jaw dropping open. Almost staggering, she cried out,
'Jace! Galry! My babies!'

   She stepped forward as if to throw herself into the space inside the glowing wires, but strong hands held her back. She realized through her own stricken haze that this time Shenwolf had been brought to the chamber with her.

   'My Lady, wait!'

  
'My babies!
Oh, my children!
'

   The sapphire knight was clambering unsteadily to his feet, seeming dazed. He peered up towards the evanescing cloud. One of the children - the smaller of the two - raised its head and looked over the knight's broad metallic shoulder. The child's eyes appeared to meet Issul's, though it could not see her.

   Issul let out an anguished sob. 'Jace!'

   The sapphire knight turned and, carrying the children, made off into the forest.

iii

   'Do something! You must do something!' Issul shouted.

   Triune had turned first one, then two, and now three mildly surprised faces at her successive outbursts. 'What is the matter?'

   'They are her children, Triune,' explained Orbelon. 'They have just been disgorged through the Portal.'

  
'Her children? Her spawn? You have been harbouring them, Orbelon?'

   'As I told you
…'

   'You mentioned two children, but the spawn of the King and Queen of Enchantment's Reach.'

   Orbelon nodded his ragged head. 'Issul is the Queen. She has accompanied me in the hope of finding them.'

   'Do you know where they are? Can you locate that place?' demanded Issul. She turned imploringly to Orbelon. 'That is the warrior-knight I saw! I told you.
The first one, on horseback, when I was captured by Gordallith's men. He has Galry and Jace!'

   Orbelon was still for a moment,
then spoke tersely to Triune. 'Is it possible? Can your seeker follow the warrior?'

   'It can, but it will not. We would lose the tail of the Portal, and hence Urch-Malmain.'

   'Then can you send another?'

   The three Triune children inclined their heads towards one another in silent communion,
then announced, 'It is certainly possible to do so, though with no guarantee of success. We would have to send the new seeker to the site of the Portal's tail. From there on it can only search the forest at random. It is perhaps a vain hope.'

   'It is enough. Do it, please,' declared Issul. 'They are my children.'

   'Do you feel particular attachment to them?' Triune asked.

   Issul half-choked on her words, and again Orbelon spoke in her stead: 'She does.'

   'Very good. We will send forth a seeker.'

iv

   Leth had no notion of where he was. Had he arrived in his own world, within his own kingdom of Enchantment's Reach, as Aztin had said? Or was he elsewhere, still in Orbelon's world or in another world entirely? There was no immediate way of telling. The forest was dim, quiet,
anonymous. It could have been any forest, anywhere.

   During the brief passage through the Portal from Urch-Malmain's Tower of Glancing Memory he had experienced a momentary sensation of giddiness and nausea. Blinding lights had floresced about him, and then he had emerged, dropping heavily to the earth, as though thrust in fog from the top of a low wall.

   He clambered to his feet, his first thought for the two children in his arms. They were wide-eyed, their hearts racing, but they were unharmed. Leth's second thought was that Urch-Malmain would send warriors after him. And what of those who Aztin had perceived as influencing the Portal's tail? Were they close by?

   Leth wasted no time. Without even attempting to get his bearings he stumbled away beneath the trees.

   A thought struck him as he passed into the forest's shade: the sun! Pale sunlight could be glimpsed overhead; the earth was dappled beneath his feet. It was not the light of the Orb of the Godworld.

   The entity, Aztin, had not misled him, then. But was this land Enchantment's Reach or some other, distant domain?

   Leth paced onward, then paused at the base of a low bluff and put the children down, bidding them to silence. He cocked his head, alert for sounds of pursuit. There was only the soft whisper of leaves, and the stirrings of a bird or small animal in the bracken close by. Leth took the childrens' hands. 'Come, we must get away from here.'

   No path marked the way, bar those made by forest creatures. Above the autumn canopy the sun was high, visible between tracts of grey cloud, but until sufficient time had passed to allow him to determine its motion across the sky Leth could not gauge the direction in which he travelled.

   They walked on for about an hour, until he called a halt beside a wide, fast-flowing stream where they slaked their thirst. They had no food and Leth hoped to find trout or crayfish lurking in the water. He fashioned a fishing-spear by cutting a forked birch pole from a nearby tree, splitting the forks and sharpening their tips and forming barbs and serrations with his knife. Then he positioned himself on a rock at the water's edge and waited, peering patiently into the depths.

   There were trout there in some number, but they were nimble and easily eluded Leth's inexpert thrusts. Meanwhile Galry and Jace were growing fractious. Leth's patience began to diminish. 'Be silent!' he scolded the children. 'You will draw attention to us, as well as frightening the fish!'

   'Can the fish hear us under the water?' Jace enquired.

   'Do fish have ears?' Galry asked. 'Where are they?'

   Leth was unsure on all three points. He said, 'We should simply not move around too much to distract them.'

   'But they can't actually hear, though, can they?'

   'Perhaps not, but others in the forest can.' He was loath to frighten the children any more, but they seemed so quickly to forget the danger they were in. 'We should be cautious.'

   And then, quite abruptly, he knew that something was wrong.

   He put the fishing-spear aside and rose, drawing his scimitar and scanning the forest around him. The hair prickled at the nape of his neck. He could not tell what it was that had aroused him, but
something
. . .