Crystal Doors #1 (9 page)

“We, uh, thought you might like a lift,” Vic said.

“I will repay your kindness. And your names will be added to the Great Epic.”

THE SOLE SURVIVOR’S NAME was Tiaret. A rangy girl from a place called “Afirik,” she was no more than a year older than Gwen and Vic. Her eyes were an amazing amber color, like those of a lioness, and she wore short animal pelts that hugged her muscular body like a second skin. When Vic and Sharif returned with her, Gwen thought the two young men looked insufferably pleased with themselves, though she had to admit to a bit of admiration for the rescue.

Everyone gathered in Elantya’s main water-clock square to hear the weary girl’s story. Tiaret clutched her battered-looking staff, as if ready to keep fighting. Her eyes swept around the square; she seemed as intrigued by the crowd and the city as they were with the exotic newcomer.

Already alerted to the emergency, the five members of the Pentumvirate hurried from their council chambers. Gwen
watched the colorfully robed representatives march together down the sloping streets, escorted by functionaries and advisors.

“Pentumvirate members are called virs,” Lyssandra whispered quickly as they took seats on curved stone benches near the trickling water clock. “Each wears a bright color — yellow, blue, red, green, or white — that corresponds to one of the five elements.”

“Five
elements? There are over a hundred on the periodic table. My chemistry teacher made us memorize them.”

“No, only five: earth, air, fire, water, and spirit,” Lyssandra said.

“Then what about nitrogen, helium, iron, sodium — all those?”

The elfin girl’s expression turned thoughtful. “In studying a thing too closely, one may see more details but gain little understanding.”

Obviously the translator did not consider that society on Earth might be more sophisticated and advanced than in Elantya. “In other words, concentrate on the big picture?” Gwen smiled at this cultural simplification and admitted, “Chemistry sure would have been easier with only five elements.…”

After the Pentumvirate members had taken their places on the stone benches, Elantyan workers erected poles across which they stretched dyed fabrics to form an awning that shaded the virs from the sun. The crowd that had gathered was anxious to hear Tiaret’s story, and the survivor seemed eager to tell it, but the Pentumvirate would not be hurried.

Tiaret gratefully accepted the fresh water and soft blanket brought to her, but when the virs offered her a spot in the shade, she chose to sit in the open. She folded her long legs and held her staff in both hands, propped like a scepter between upthrust knees. Its round, polished stone head glinted like a bloodshot dragon’s eye in the bright light. “I have been cold and wet for far too long. I prefer to be out here on the smooth stones, soaking up the warm sun. I feel my bones may never be dry again.”

Tiaret had long hair twisted into ropy strands, bound and decorated with beads and tiny pendants of copper and polished stone. Prominent cheekbones above a delicate chin gave her face the appearance of being heart-shaped. Her lips were generous, her nose strong, her teeth white and straight.

“I must tell you, and I must tell you all of it,” the girl began. “Among my people, storytelling is an important skill not to be rushed. Every person plays a part in the Great Epic and, whether we see it or not, the Epic is a part of us, as well.” Her voice was rich and resonant, made to carry beneath open skies, across whispering grasses. “Kundu was one of our greatest warriors and talespinners. In spite of my youth, I fought by his side in the Grassland Wars, and he taught me everything he knew. He is gone now. His storyline in the Great Epic has ended.” Her breath hitched. “And so this duty falls to me.”

Tiaret turned her gaze to the five council members under their awning, then to her rescuers Sharif and Vic. When Gwen’s cousin grinned, obviously proud of what he and Sharif had accomplished, Gwen resisted the strong urge to elbow him in the ribs.

“My Master Kundu was coming to Elantya to teach self-defense techniques, veldt magic, and storytelling. I was his best student. In my village out on the savannahs, he had already instructed everyone in his skills. Since the Grassland Wars were over, he felt that Elantya — and all the worlds through the crystal doors — needed his knowledge. He brought me along to become a student at the Citadel.” She maintained her composure with a visible effort.

Gwen hoped Vic wouldn’t get distracted and start whispering to Sharif before Tiaret had finished. Gwen wanted to hear every word of the story.

“One bright, warm dawn, Master Kundu and I caught a pair of horned zemus — stallions who wanted to see the world beyond the wanderings of the herd. After Kundu convinced the zemus of our need, the stallions allowed us to climb onto their striped backs. We rode for three days across the hot grasslands to the coast, where caravans brought regular shipments of star aja from mines in the mountains. Trading ships came to the coast. Master Kundu was sure one of the ships would give us passage through the crystal door to Elantya.

“When we reached the seaport village, the horned zemus began to snort, unsettled at being too close to so many humans. So we dismounted and turned them loose, then walked barefoot the rest of the way to the town. Master Kundu was old, but very strong. He could walk for days if he needed to.

“In the village we met Captain Argo, who agreed to take us aboard, provided that we helped him load his ship with aja crystals. So we labored for two days, carrying cartloads of
rock.” She grinned. “Kundu and I shamed the captain’s own workers out of their laziness, and the vessel was loaded in half the normal time. We set sail, carried away from the coast by a freshening breeze as the tide went out. We left our beloved Afirik behind and sailed into waters that were unknown to me.

“I had never seen the ocean before — so much water! Once we lost sight of the shore, I felt as if I were drowning in the vastness. Master Kundu had sailed twice before to Elantya, and he reassured me. Captain Argo showed me his astrolabes and star charts, explaining how he could navigate without landmarks. I was unfamiliar with this skill. Even out in the broadest brown savannahs, there are trees and distant hills for landmarks, but the ocean was green-blue and smooth, extending forever and ever. I found it very humbling.”

Tiaret gave a wan smile and looked at her listeners, then took another drink of water before she continued.

“Captain Argo was the Key, master of his own ship. He was born in Afirik and could open the crystal door directly to Elantya once he arrived at the proper coordinates. Our ship sailed through the night and half of the next morning before we reached an otherwise unremarkable spot in the middle of the ocean. Master Kundu and I came forward to watch the opening of the crystal door.

“Argo stood at the bow of the ship, looked out at the waves, and read the words of the spell tattooed with aja ink on the skin of his forearm. When he finished his chant, the air and water in front of us changed. It was as if the sky itself had been painted on glass, and Argo’s spell shattered the pane. In front of us the water and air broke, cracked open, and on the other
side of an invisible door lay a different sea, different waves, different clouds.

“His crew worked the sails, and the ship cruised forward. They had made the passage so many times they just went about their jobs, but I was fascinated. The vessel passed through the open door, gliding into the waters of this world. Behind us, the gateway closed again, a thin mosaic reassembling itself in the air, restoring the wall between universes. And we sailed on toward Elantya.”

Tiaret closed her amber-gold eyes for a moment, as if hesitant to move to the next part of the story. She shifted her grip on the polished teaching staff. Gwen leaned forward to hear better.

“Our ship rode low in the water, its hold heavy with the rare star aja Elantya had ordered. We expected no problems.” She drew a heavy breath. “No problems…

“On the second day out, the lookout spotted two sea serpents with gold and blue scales, and serrated fins like the edge of a broken sword. They rose out of the water on our starboard side, spitting sea foam from their fanged mouths. They approached our ship, and I could see their large slitted eyes. Master Kundu stood on the deck holding his teaching staff.” She lifted the polished weapon in her hand; Gwen realized that it must have belonged to the girl’s teacher.

“The giant serpents circled us. Their sharp fangs were as long and curved as the tusks of an elephoar. Most frightening to Captain Argo, though, were the unmistakable designs
branded
on the sides of their sinuous necks — geometric symbols, like tribal markings etched into the serpent scales
and painted with enamel. The creatures wore spiked metal collars, golden harnesses, and silver linked chains.” Tiaret paused to let the implication sink in. “Someone domesticated these sea serpents, kept them in thrall.”

“Merlons,” whispered one of the Pentumvirate members.

“The sea serpents swam beside the hull, then departed, slipping under the waves and swimming away. Once, in my childhood, I had seen enormous pythanas hanging from trees in the rain forest, but these were beyond my ken.

“The crew was uneasy, and Captain Argo put everyone on watch. Master Kundu and I trained on the deck, practicing our fighting skills together, but he kept his eyes on the water. We saw lines of black storm clouds gathering on the horizon. From afar, I observed a silvery waterspout, a fearsome weapon of weather. The clouds and the waterspout seemed to stalk our ship. Captain Argo told me the merlons have powerful sages who can affect the weather.

“On the third night since departing from Afirik, our ship drifted into treacherous waters. We were still far from Elantya, and we could see whitecaps curling over the submerged coral. The captain’s charts showed a safe path through the Ophir reefs, but it would be a challenging course, and Argo did not want to negotiate the maze until daylight. At the edge of the reefs, two crewmen threw our anchor overboard. The chain dropped barely ten feet before it snagged on the rugged coral, and our ship was uneasily tethered in place.

“All the crew was on edge. The air smelled of lightning, but we saw no rain. The stars were out like a million silvery eyes watching us from the thickets of night. I spread my blanket on
deck and tried to rest. The captain had offered us a small cabin, but Master Kundu and I preferred sleeping in the open. Closed spaces make me uncomfortable. The breezes from the ocean had been peaceful on our journey. But not this night.

“As the high moon spread its cold light across the deck and rigging, I felt a sudden lurch, and the ship began to drift. The anchor chain slapped against the hull with an empty clank. The crew shouted an alarm. Our anchor had been severed from below!

“I heard a splashing sound close to the hull. All around us, breakers foamed on the reefs. As I looked over the deck rail I could see moving figures, manlike but flashing and slippery. When they broke the surface, their bodies glittered with water and slime in the moonlight. Their skin was covered with scales, their faces wide and sleek, as if someone had crossed a dragon with a human. Master Kundu told me what they were.” Tiaret looked at the Pentumvirate. “Merlons, of course.”

The city leaders nodded.

“Cut loose from the anchor, the ship drifted in the currents, drawn toward the reefs. Captain Argo shouted orders. Men scurried up the masts to unfurl the sails. We were adrift and out of control. But the men could not climb fast enough, and the winds died of their own accord as soon as the first cloths were stretched tight.

“We ran aground on the grinding rocks. Loaded with its heavy cargo, our ship scraped against the rough black rock until its belly split. I heard wood splintering below, and the vessel lurched to a halt, throwing three men overboard. Others
were flung to the deck. The ship tilted. Water rushed in, and crystal ore spilled out.

“The captain understood who our attackers were. He went to the tank in his cabin and withdrew both of his pet aquits. He dictated a message and turned them loose overboard. We all knew the aquits would never reach Elantya in time to bring us help, but we hoped at least they would inform you of what had happened, if we all died that night.”

“One of the aquits did arrive,” said the white-robed vir from her bench. “That was how we knew to look for you.”

Tiaret was engrossed in her memories of that terrible night. “With our ship stranded on the reefs, the merlons moved in. They knew we could not escape. I saw the creatures outlined in the pale glow as they converged like hunting leopards around a weakened ibex. They swarmed out of the water, climbing up the severed anchor chain. Others clung to the hull planks, digging in their claws.

“I have seen harvester termites move across the savannah. They march together, overwhelming grasses, bushes, even trees with their sheer numbers. Nothing can stand in their way. And these merlons were even more dangerous, for they had weapons and a willful hatred toward us.

“A sudden storm whipped up, and cold rain pelted us, making the tilted deck slick. Our mast tipped as the hull continued to grind and splinter against the reef. The captain, his eyes glazed with despair, took out his sword and called us all forward.” Tiaret’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Master Kundu stood beside him with this teaching staff. I
took a weapon of my own. Together we fought the hordes of merlons.

“They stink like rotting fish, and their inky, bottomless-pit eyes have a glazed look, like the eyes of a drowned man. They have flapping gills along their necks, but merlons can live in the air much longer than fish can.