Ivory Lyre (23 page)

*

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.

Teb dug with the clasp, the mortar dust
filling his nose. The darkness pressed at him, making him want to
batter mindlessly at his prison. The bar was slowly loosening;
already he could wiggle it. He tried to keep the sense of
Seastrider close, but even that was not constant. Sometimes he
thought he heard rumbling over the scraping of mortar, but when he
paused to listen he wasn’t sure.

Soon the sound came louder; he felt
Seastrider close as she battered against stone so hard he could
hear the mountain rumble. Hot tears welled in his eyes. She was
tearing at the mountain to reach him. He dug harder at the stubborn
mortar.

*

She could hear the echo of emptiness behind
the wall she battered, ramming it with her sides and with her
horns. Though the cave was huge, this wall was not thick, and at
last it gave way. But Teb was not there inside the big echoing
space. She listened and could just hear faint tapping and scraping.
He was in another cave beyond this one. She tore at the new wall,
while above her on the mountain Kiri stood between dragons.

They pushed their noses at Kiri. She
scratched Starpounder’s black forehead. They were watching the
city, and suddenly Starpounder drew away, then leaped skyward as a
small band of king’s soldiers rode out from the palace stables down
along the curving road. Kiri watched the black dragon dive on them
spitting flame, scattering the horses, dragging the men from their
saddles. She watched Starpounder kill the soldiers and chase the
horses away. Beside her Windcaller rose to attack another band near
the river, her wings catching the sun with white light. Both
dragons sped over the city slashing and ripping, but avoiding their
own troops. Kiri saw Nightraider join them with Camery astride, her
sword flashing. Moments later, Starpounder banked and returned to
the mountain, sliding down the wind, his wings grazing her as he
came to rest, nudging her until she leaped to his back.

He did not join the others over the city; he
circled the mountain, then dropped low along its southern cliffs.
She ducked as he glided into the big, echoing cave. Inside, far
back, she could see Seastrider’s pale shape battering at the cave
wall. The next instant they were beside her in a shower of rock, as
Starpounder, too, attacked the mountain. Kiri slid down, drew her
sword and began to dig beside them, hacking at earth and stone.

Teb could hear them digging, could hear
metal striking stone as he gouged at the flaking mortar. Accacia
and Gram were quiet. As he forced his shoulder at the bar again, it
broke away at the bottom so he fell half out of his cage. One more
shove and he was out, still clutching the little hair clip. He ran
in blackness toward the sound of digging, slammed into the wall,
felt it trembling. Metal rang, thuds like stones falling. Then
Seastrider’s voice, “Stand back, Tebriel. The stone will bounce and
roll.”

He backed away, into bars, felt Gram’s hand
on his arm. “What is happening? Is it the dragons?”

“Yes, the dragons, Gram. Will you be
afraid?”

She squeezed his hand and laughed. “Excited.
Awed.”

They heard stone fall, a dragon roared,
thunder shook the mountain and boulders were tumbling in, the light
so bright. Then Seastrider’s face filled the hole, her green eyes
on Teb, her white nose pushing at him. He was only vaguely aware of
Kiri crowded against the wall sheathing her battered sword, for his
arms were around Seastrider’s neck, squeezing so hard she belched
flame.

It was flame that freed Accacia and Gram as
Seastrider’s breath cut away the bars. Teb thought of leaving
Accacia there, but he could not. He did leave her to climb out of
the fissure alone, as he and Gram lifted into the sky between
Seastrider’s white wings and Kiri clung to Starpounder. As they
dropped low over the sea along the cliff, they could see a tunnel
well beneath the water. And now guard lizards began to appear on
the mountain, slithering out of every crevice, snarling and hissing
up at them.

The battle was quickly fought, the two
dragons killing the lizards like a fox in a nest of mice, tossing
them into the waves. If there were others, they had fled back into
the cracks of the mountain. The riders slid down. Teb took Kiri’s
hand.

“Can you swim? Can you dive deep?”

“I can swim. I never tried to dive for
long.”

“I’ll show you.” He stripped off the brown
skirt and tunic.

“They’re Gram’s,” she said, laughing.

Teb chose two heavy stones. “Pull in your
breath and hold it, relaxed and slow. Hold as long as you can, then
let it out. Do that five times. Each time you will be able to hold
longer. Then take the last breath, clasp the stone to you, and jump
in. Let your breath out a little at a time under water. When you
are ready to come up, drop the stone and kick.”

Kiri pulled off her skirt and boots,
modestly leaving her tunic on, and followed his lead down into the
sea, her last breath so deep she thought her lungs would burst. She
was terrified there would be more lizards. She and Teb dropped fast
under the weight of the stones, the undersea all glowing with green
light. Deep down they grabbed for the tunnel wall and pulled
themselves in.

Not far inside the tunnel shone a metal door
set into the mountain. Teb smashed at the lock with his stone. Kiri
took a turn, but her need for air was getting uncomfortable. Soon
it was urgent, but he, battering away, seemed ready to stay under
forever. She knew she couldn’t hold much longer, would have to suck
water into her lungs. At the last possible moment he slammed the
rock from her hands, pulled her out of the tunnel and, kicking,
dragged her up. She kicked madly and burst through the surface
gasping for air.

They took new stones and went down again, to
work until Kiri again felt her lungs would burst. Then a third
time. It seemed hopeless to her, but at last the lock shattered and
fell in pieces to the tunnel floor. When Teb pushed the door, it
flew open under the pressure of the sea. Again Kiri was frantic for
breath. She had a glimpse of the other tunnel opening high in the
little cave roof; then they were shooting upward.

She was still sucking in air when Teb
dropped back into the sea, too eager to wait. She followed, and
found him crouched inside the treasure cave upon a heaped carpet of
gold coins, his knees deep in them as he cradled a small, delicate
white lyre stained green from the sea light. He raised it to Kiri
in salute, his face distorted by the sea; she touched it and felt
its power. Then he pushed himself out of the tunnel and they shot
upward.

The two dragons nosed the lyre, crooning. It
was a beautiful lyre, the ancient ivory delicately carved, the
joints perfectly fitted. It held such power that when Teb struck
one note the dragons shivered with pleasure.

They carried the ivory lyre up to the crest
of the mountain, to the highest peak so the dragons were in full
view of the city. There were battles down in outlying regions, but
not many. The dragons’ attack had turned the tide; the dark was in
retreat.

Standing tall on Seastrider’s back, Teb
touched one string of the lyre; one note rang out. The rebel
soldiers looked up at the mountain, struck still. The lyre’s voice
was louder, stronger than seemed possible for such a delicate
instrument; it filled the city streets and the palace. Teb’s voice
joined Seastrider’s; all their voices joined. All battles ceased
and men stood staring at a past so sharply alive they staggered
with its power. They knew the pain of past lives, the wrenching
challenges. They knew the triumphs. They knew feelings stronger
than their own lives had ever permitted, a world immense with
possibilities. The dull sickness of the drugs and taverns fell
away. Dacia saw its tormentors clearly now for the first time. It
understood them, those who sucked on lust and degradation and on
terror. The dragon song and the music of the lyre exploded with
life into a thousand facets of purpose and strength these peoples
had never imagined.

In the black palace, servants ripped off the
green tunics that marked their loyalty to the king. Palace guards
came awake from their servitude and pulled off their uniforms but
did not lay down their swords. Together they marched to the gates
to join the gathering townsmen. Then all turned back into the
palace, first to the great hall, then, finding it empty, to the
king’s private quarters.

The dark general and his captains were there
with the king. They saw the faces of the townsmen and paled. Those
would be the last faces they would see.

When the dark leaders were dead, the people
of Dacia marched down into the city to join the troops there, to
rid Dacia of other dark captains. But not all men cleaved to the
dragon song. For those whose minds had been destroyed, or who
preferred evil, there was only dim confusion. They did not see the
living past, but only a gray, moving haze. They did not hear the
dragon song, but only a few far-off notes that they could not
identify. For them, rescue came too late.

As the lyre stilled, as dragon song stilled,
the city turned to the mopping up that comes after battle. It was
then that a lone man began to climb the black mountain, his mind
still filled with the music of lyre and dragons.