Kirith Kirin (The City Behind the Stars) (24 page)

Mordwen told me something about the place, which was built by the Diamysaar during their war with Cunavastar, who had built an earlier stone circle within his fortress Cunevadrim. He used the circle as a device to focus his magic; to fight him, the Diamysaar caused a mountain to rise up in the middle of Arthen, and they built their own stone circle at its top. In the war that followed much of Arthen was destroyed — the forest, in those days, ran south to the present Cuthunre valley, and north to Thynilex and Svyssnam. Cunavastar brought Ildaruen magic into the world, the language of undoing and unmaking, and his success hinted at the existence of another power beyond the YY; but in the end the Diamysaar bound him and imprisoned him far beneath the mountains.

One could see that the solitary mountain, rising so starkly above the hills, was no ordinary work of geology; the land thereabouts showed the signs of old, localized upheaval. Trees along one flank, torn up by the roots when the ground broke open, had petrified in the streams of water, lying in broken pieces in the shadow of the mountain.

Aediamysaar rose too steeply for horses to climb. We tethered Nixva and Kyvixa with the horses of those who had arrived ahead of us. I recognized the Keikin and other of his offspring. My heart beat more strongly when I realized who would at the summit.

Mordwen warned me the path was steep. I followed through a grove of twisted scrub-faris and a vine bare of leaves. The path had a winter aspect even on that warm morning, and I found myself wishing for a coat. We climbed in silence.

I had wondered vaguely how the Prince would behave when we reached the top. I adopted an attitude Commyna would have approved, of respectful wariness. As we neared the end of the climb, with the wind screeching breakneck through the thin, twisted trees, I told myself over and over again, enjoy the scenery, you may get nothing but that.

It would have been sufficient, I think. I had never seen anything like the view going up. We spiraled higher over the undulating rhythm of green and golden treetops, finally climbing so high one could see the eastern mountains. On a clear day one can see the walls of Drii from Mount Diamysaar. If I had been on horseback I would have fallen off at the sight.

The top of the mountain was a broad table of flat stone. A flight of curved steps led up the sheer rock face on either side of this plateau — that is to say, from either the eastern or the western approaches, for one can reach the summit by either of two paths. On the rock table stood stone slabs set upright, some capped with capstones, forming a broad outer circle and a smaller, less defined, inner circle. One could see this much from a distance. One could also see cloaked figures standing in the circles. Karsten, came toward us. Wind blew through her hair.

When I started to speak she shook her head, placing her finger against her lips. She took my hand and we walked toward the standing stones.

A sound like music came from inside, the echoes of voices, but I knew this was nothing my ears were hearing. For a moment I felt what panic would be like. But my body remembered what the lake women had taught me to do, and I breathed as if I were a bird slowly beating its wings. I savored each moment. We reached the shadows of the stones, ascending a shallow flight of steps, passing through the rock pylons.

Beyond, past the second ring of stones, I could see the dull gray of the circular pavement. The light struck it oddly, not as if it were stone but as if it were the surface of a lake. A figure stood at the center of the pavement, a man, and I knew him long before I could distinguish any feature of his face.

I had not seen him in days. Now, I knew the difference his presence made. I felt resonant with him, and expectant, and so full of feeling I was almost sad. The well of feelings was in fact so strong that I forgot my training, and as I neared him the voices returned, dizzying; songs of warning, in Words I knew.

The songs were very powerful, and when I understood that their purpose was to warn me not to tamper with the magic here, I stopped in my tracks. The lake women had never told me what to do in a case like this, but had taught me something about entering magic circles and magician’s chambers; one does neither lightly. Here was a device for moving power built in the age of Cunavastar, and I was being led blithely onto the stone circle as if this were someone’s tent.

Karsten turned and frowned at me. When I still refused to move she bent and whispered, “Come along Jessex. Kirith Kirin is waiting for you.”

“I don’t want to go inside.”

She touched my forehead sadly. “You don’t have any choice.”

Mordwen paled, gazing into the stones. “Why is Kirith Kirin doing this?”

Karsten spoke, without meeting anyone’s eyes. “What do you think? There aren’t so many uses for this place that we know.”

Mordwen studied the motionless figure at the center of the shining pavement, the Seer looking as if he wanted to speak to the Prince, but deciding the effort would be futile, these changes plainly visible on his features. He knelt and spoke to me with tenderness that touched me. “You’re only being asked to walk across the granite circle. Once you’ve reached the place where Kirith Kirin is standing the test will be over.”

“Test?” Anger flooded me suddenly. “Why am I being tested this time?”

He started to speak but Karsten cut him off. “You’re not to tell him anything, Mordwen. Kirith Kirin’s orders.”

“Naturally,” Mordwen said.

“That’s enough talking.” To me she said, “Walk through these pylons and across the granite, Jessex. Say nothing, whatever happens.”

I waited a moment for my head to clear. The talking had distracted me, and with the lapse of concentration came a resurgence of voices, a dizzying power,

Traveler go no farther

this is no place for a visit

You who are lost in Words

Enter with care and due precaution

I could hear other phrases that cannot be translated, specific warnings about specific penalties to be imposed on the pretender to power.

I could feel the barrier erected against the entry of one like me, and on my lips was the phrase to disarm the incantation, a request for entry and a pledge to do no harm to the holy place. But I could not say it without disobeying the injunctions of the women at Lake Illyn, I must never say Wyyvisar away from them, and on my obedience to this rule hinged the remainder of my training. I ascended the stone steps with my lips clamped shut, my mind under strict harness, every breath a concentrated effort.

Beyond the first rank of pylons I could feel the change. The voices of warning changed to voices of menace, and since I spoke neither to challenge nor to placate the magic of the place, and yet was an initiate of the Circles, I had no defense. The possibility that I would be foolish enough to come to such a place as this had never occurred to the lake women. I reached the inner ring of pylons without suffering more than generalized dizziness, pausing before setting out across the polished circle. I suppose I must have looked tired. Kirith Kirin, awaiting me in the center of the circle, looked at me oddly, as if puzzled this was taking so long. Though to tell the truth I never studied his expression. Watching him would have made me angry again, and I had no time to spare for that.

When I stepped onto the pavement, a new singing began, and the wind increased.

The Prince was looking down at the pavement expectantly, but there was no change in the polished surface.

The singing rose in power, but he was deaf to that. I bit my lips together, feeling a tearing pain like when I was in the dark place in the mountains. I kept walking grimly forward, feeling the wind blow harder, but in my mind was another vision, myself as a tiny image walking horizontally across the gray stone disk, bare to every power, my thoughts plain and undefended. I could feel awarenesses, Commyna and Vissyn momentarily, and another power to the south, the same image I had met in the fourth level trance. My enemy.

I must have stood still sometime during this moment of confusion. I became conscious again when Kirith Kirin called me from the place where he was still standing.

Laughter filled my inner hearing, and a long phrase in a language I had never heard. A power was reaching for me, knowing where I was. I stepped across the black granite ring to the place where Kirith Kirin stood.

“I’m sorry,” he said, embracing me, “I’ve wronged you. There was no change in the stones.”

His touch was cold to me. I pulled away from him. “In a moment I won’t be able to see you or hear you, If you don’t take me away from this place I’ll be killed.”

He frowned at me, and started to speak again. But the voice from the south was already engulfing me, and my undefended spirit was weakening. “I don’t know why you brought me here,” I said, “but while I’m here I’m in danger.”

“From what?” he asked, and then I couldn’t see him any more. I was aware of my body falling. I was no longer quite inside it, heeding the call of the singer.

I could feel his arms when he lifted me from the stone. I could feel hands on my face as well, but I believe those were magical touches; Vella was singing in my ear. Wind blew on my face. I awoke in the grass, with Mordwen bending over me. “Thank the YY, there you are.”

Wind lashed the trees behind his head, and clouds were gathering over the mountain. The wind was warm, out of season. The storm that was coming already had a fierce feeling; soon forks of lightning were lashing down like snake’s tongues from the sky. I sat up, watching the whole landscape, the violent clash of grays and greens. Karsten and Imral were watching too.

Kirith Kirin was behind me. I could feel his presence.

“Lie quiet for a moment,” Mordwen said, but I shook my head. I stood, letting the wind whip my face. Away from the stones I had less awareness of what striving was producing this storm, but the sickness filled me.

“We need to get away from here,” I said.

“We’ll leave as soon as the storm breaks.” Kirith Kirin spoke from behind me. “We can take shelter under the pylons.”

I shook my head and said emphatically, “The storm won’t break as long as we’re near the holy place. We can’t take shelter here.”

“Jessex, the road down would be murder in a storm.”

I watched him calmly, feeling a power in me I had never felt before. “Yes, Kirith Kirin, I know, and I also know why it was made that way. You don’t know what you’ve done in bringing me here.”

This touched his pride, and I could see his anger plainly. But he swallowed it back. “I had good reasons for what I did. The stones didn’t change. My mind is more at rest about you, or at least it was. Where did you learn so much about this place?”

“I don’t know anything.”

He would have answered but his voice drowned in a gust of wind, followed by the first sheets of rain. He looked round at the sky.

The storm was awesome, crashing over the forest with thunder and lightning, wind hurtling across the treetops, breaking with force against the side of Mount Diamysaar. Unconsciously we drew closer together as the rain intensified. The force of the storm sobered the Prince. Imral and Karsten also drew close. “This is uncanny,” Imral said. “There’s magic in this.” He studied me with suspicion, rain running down his face. “But the stones didn’t change, there were no runes.”

Karsten looked from one to the other, and said in a flat, even voice, “You both saw what happened when he reached the inner circle. If he says we need to get away from here, I’m inclined to believe him. It was his crossing the stone circle that triggered the storm.”

“That’s an interesting theory anyway,” Imral said, and went on to say more that the wind drowned out.

I turned away, shivering in my tunic. I was too close, my head was aching. Someone was calling me. I turned, blindly, to find them all watching me. My anger boiled at the sight of their stupid faces; “I can’t stay here,” I shouted, “I told you that. You had no reason to bring me here if you trusted me. If you have any sense you’ll trust me now and get down to your horses at once.”

Even then they merely stood there, four of the blessed of the world, dumbfounded in the rain. Something changed in me, seeing them like that. I turned and ran down the path, pressing my hands to my ears as if that could help.

The rocks were slippery, and I was already dizzy from staying too long on the summit. The rain increased, sometimes beating down so furiously I could not see two feet in front of me on the path. The wind was like a prey-bird trying to claw me from the rocks. I clung to the tenacious shrubs, when there were any to be had; otherwise I hugged the side of the mountain or got down on my knees and crawled.