Lord of Lies (46 page)

She looked at me as if I had suggested borrowing one of the Lokilani's children. 'Do you mean, to take the jewel of Memory from the Forest?'

'Yes,' I said to her. 'We can't remain here, and neither can this crystal if we are to learn from it what we must.'

'I understand,' Ninana said, moving closer to the head of the grave. 'But the jewel is dear to us, very dear.'

Aunai stepped forward and touched her shoulder. 'There was a time when the jewel did not dwell here, and a time when it will not again.'

Ekewai, a slight, comely man who seemed as gentle as a sheep, pointed at the crystal and said, 'The Ela'ajin brought this here for a purpose. To keep it safe, yes?'

'To keep it safe,' Aunai said, glancing at me, 'or to keep it for the Matri'aya?'

Ninana held out her wrinkled hands toward the Timpum sparking and shimmering above the akashic crystal. They seemed to gather up its colored lights as bees might a flower's nectar.

'It would be a great loss to us,' Ninana said sadly.

'It is a great decision to have to make,' I told her. 'Perhaps you could call together your elders and hold council.'

'No, that is your way,' she said. 'Our way is this: since the loss would be all the Lokilani's, all the Lokilani must decide.'

And with that, she turned to Ekewai and a young woman named Noehela and others, and she asked them if they would call their people from across the island to gather here. They agreed to this, hurrying off through the trees in different directions - or rather, walking a little more quickly than was usual for them and with new purpose.

And so we waited there in the astor grove all the rest of the day for the great council to commence. As dusk fell and the woods deepened with whatever darkness ever touched this enchanted island, the Lokiiani began arriving in twos and tens. Delectable foods were brought forth, and we sat among the mosses and flowers feasting far into the night We listened to the katydids calling in the trees; we watched the Timpum brighten the grove even as the stars lit up the sky. And still the Lokilani had not gathered in all their numbers, and so we laid out our cloaks and slept. Early the next morning, a few hundred more of the little people came singing and dancing into the grove as if to a birthday celebration. By noon, I counted some twelve hundred men, women and children crowding the ground about Balakin's grave.

Ninana finally came up to me and stood with me above the akashic crystal. The emeralds in her black and stiver hair sparkled with a green fire as she said, 'We are ready.'

'Very well,' I said, looking at Maram and Master Juwain. Atara sat nearby working a comb through Estrella's curly black hair. 'Do you need us to withdraw while you make your vote?' 'Vote?' she said.

I explained to her how certain of the free peoples chose their kings or made their laws.

'Oh, no,' she said, 'that is not our way either. We must speak with each other and reach an understanding. We must be of one mind.'

'But a thousand people can't be of one mind!' Maram said, 'And they certainly can't all speak with each other. It would take a year!'

But it seemed that the Lokilani could - and that it might take nearly as long as Maram feared. Ninana gathered in all the goodness of her voice, which was pleasant but not strong; she spoke to all assembled, giving as clear and truthful account of our quest as anyone could. When she had finished, she asked me if I or any of my friends had anything to add. We didn't. And so the Lokilani began the long work of deciding what should be done.

They broke into perhaps two hundred groups, and sat in little circles, spread out across the hills of the astor grove. For an hour or more, they did nothing but talk. The sound of their small voices was like the buzzing of the bees that flew from flower to flower spreading pollen. From time to time, one or more of them would break away from their group and walk over to join another, adding other voices to what was one continuing conversation. This mixing and mingling occupied another few hours, by which time many of the Lokilani had grown hungry, as had we. And so they sat in their circles, and they ate their hemes and bearseed bread and drank their, cool sweet wine And all the while they talked and laughed and sang their sweet songs, and it was hard to believe that they were engaged in an argument of great moment.

Toward the end of the day, while we waited near the akashic crystal, the Lokilani merged into larger groups of twenty or thirty. And still they gave voice to their thoughts, many of which seemed opposed to giving up their great jewel. That the Lokilani children felt free to speak as equals with their mothers and fathers surprised me. More than once, like kittens dancing around a butterfly for the first time, two or three of them would come over to get a better look at me and my friends; some of them even dared to ask me questions or tried to prompt me into laughter or song. Their parents came, too, and these looked harder at me, at the scar marking my forehead, and their questions were harder and more pointed. At dusk it came time for yet another meal as the men and women of the woods reassembled into yet larger groups. Finally, late that evening, with the Timpum lighting up the flowers and grasses like fireflies, the Lokilani sat all together as one, a little army of little people ready to protect that which was dearest to them, as any people would.

As emissaries, Ninana and Aunai, with Taije and Kielii, came over to us. The look on Ninana's face was both hopeful and grave. My friends and I all stood as she addressed us: 'We have spoken together all day, and still there could be more talking, much more - but we know that you desire to return to your own lands.'

'Have you reached a decision?' I asked her.

'We have, Vala'ashu.'

My chest swelled like a bellows as I waited for her to say more.

'We have decided that we cannot decide, I'm sorry. We are still of many minds, many, many.'

I felt the air explode from my lips as if someone had punched me in my belly. I said, 'Then no decision is a decision.'

'If you could stay here longer, perhaps a moonful of days, or two, then we could discuss this further, yes?'

I thought of the great conclave in Tria that would begin in only two more weeks, and I said, 'We cannot remain here. But even if we could, what would change your people's minds?'

'Many look for the wisdom to make this decision in the lights of the Timpum. Many of us look for a sign.'

I, too, looked for a sign of what to do. My friends could not help me. Master Juwain brought out his journal and stood writing down the few words of the angels' language as if he might never hear spoken any others. Atara rolled her scryer's sphere between her hands, but her face remained as blank as the white cloth that covered her eyes. Maram stared greedily at the akashic crystal as a pirate might regard treasure. I was afraid that he might counsel me to seize the crystal and fight our way off the island. And Estrella simply smiled at me as if to ask why I concerned myself with glittering gelstei when all I needed to know dwelled like a bright light within my heart.

At last I brough out the Lightstone and held it toward the akashic crystal. In its presence, the colors of the translucent disc began swirling and flaring with greater radiance.

'A sign,' I whispered. 'A sign.'

A vivid light flashed in my mind then, and , to Master luwain, I cried out, '
Lais
- the Galadin's word for sign is
lais
!'

Even as my voice died off into the sounds of the wind and the distant song of a nightingale, Flick blazed into being and whirled above the akashic crystal. The lights of his fiery form rippled in a pattern that seemed at once familiar and utterly strange, I could almost read these colors of crimson, silver and glorre as I might letters on a page of a book. Two spots of a deep brown, like eyes, formed up out of this swirl and seemed to gaze at me. And then, to my astonishment - and that of Master luwain Ninana, Aunai and all those gathered around us - from Flicks luminous center, a beautiful music poured forth. It rose and swelled in perfect syncopation with the pulses of radiance he gave to the night. In its lovely harmonies was the sweetness and clarity of water running over smooth rocks and all the brilliance of a star, it sounded almost like the song of the angels, in which music and words were as one.

'A sign,' Ninana murmured. 'A sign.'

'The Timpirum sings!' Aunai cried out. 'I hear him! I hear him!'

We all did, and that was very strange, for no one in the Lokilani's wood had ever heard any of the Timpurn utter the slightest sound.

'A sign,' Ninana said again, this time more loudly. 'This is surely a sign that this Timpirum belongs with the Jewel of Memory.'

'And that the jewel belongs with the Timpirum,' Aunai added. 'As the Timpirum belongs with Vala'ashu.'

'A sign, a sign!' Taije and Kielii cried out with one voice. Now the entire tribe of Lokilani rose to their feet and rushed over to us, shouting, 'It is a sign! The Timpirum sings - listen, listen!'

For a while, we all did listen to this marvelous music that hung in the air like the sky's constellations. And then Master Juwain recited part of the verse that had led us here:

And they forever long to wake,

To praise, exalt and music make,

Breathe life through sacred memories,

Recall the ancient harmonies.

Beneath the trees they rise and ring,

And whirl and play and soar and sing

Of wider woods beyond the sea

Where they shall dwell eternally.

I finally put away the Lightstone, and Flick fell silent as a deep peace spread outward through the grove. Then Ninana stepped forward. She lifted up the akashic crystal from its cairn and set it into my hands. It was lighter than I had thought it would be.

'But not all of your people have spoken,' I said to her.

Ninana looked out into the circles of Lokilani gathered around us. Their eyes were nearly as bright as the lights of the Timpum.

'No, we
have
spoken,' she said to me, 'with our hearts. Can you not hear what we say?'

Twelve hundred hearts beat as mine did, and those of my friends, joyfully and with great hope. And with great trust that 1 would use this precious jewel wisely.

'The Lokilani,' Ninana said to me, 'do not protect the Forest only for the Lokilani. A day will come - soon, soon - when the Matri'aya will light the way back to
the
Forest. It will grow again even in the deserts. The trees, Vala'ashu! Our children, who take their life from flower and leaf, and give it back in joy and song. This is more precious to us than any jewel.'

So saying, she drew forth a small bag woven of silklike fibers. She pressed it into my hand, inside it were many tiny black seeds: the timana's seeds, from which would grow great astor trees.

After that there was much singing and dancing. Maram whirled about with a pretty young woman as hundreds watched. Estrella played with the Lokilani children; her delight was sweeter to me than any of the Forest's fruits. Even Atara, for a few hours, emerged from her palace of ice. Ninana, and four other Lokilani women, brought out green gelstei crystals like unto Master Juwain's and tried to heal her blindness. They failed. It seemed that no new life would ever grow in the sacred soil of her face which Morjin had blackened. It didn't matter. For as Atara told me, 'I've seen you gain what you hoped to find -
and
the children of the Galadin. What could make me happier than that?'

She smiled at me and squeezed my hand; the warmth of her fingers remained with me far into the night, when it came time to try to sleep. But I could not sleep. After Maram stole off into the woods, I lay on my cloak gazing at the akashic crystal which I had set down into the moss beside me. I gazed at the still forms of Atara, Estrella and Master Juwain, and all the Lokilani spread out nearby beneath the golden gloze of the astor trees. Most of all 1 gazed at the Timpum. And listened. For the woods around me seemed to fill with a ringing like bells as the Timpum came alive in their blazing millions and sang songs of glory as old as the stars.

W
e spent most of the next day walking through the great woods back to our boat. On the beach, with the lake's waters lapping gently against coarse sands, we said goodbye to Ninana and Aunai and the several dozen Lokilani who had accompanied us. We launched our boat and rowed straight out toward the mist with a fair wind at our backs. When we reached this wall of cold gray cloud, a swift current caught us up and bore us away from the island. Our strenuous work at the oars further speeded us along, for we did not wish to spend any great time beneath this wet blanket that blinded us. After what seemed less than a mile, we broke free from the mist, out into the sunshine of a hot summer day. It did not take us very long to make our way back to the lake's northern shore and find the little village of the Dirt Scrapers.

Tembom was very glad to see us, for he had given up his boat -and us - as lost. Baltasar and the Guardians met us by the shore, as did Karimah and the Manslayers. It was very good to see my men formed up on their great warhorses; the diamonds of their armor sparkled brightly in the sun, almost as brightly as theTimpum of the mist-shrouded island across the lake.

'Baltasar!' I called out as I greeted my friend. 'Sunjay! Lord Harsha! Lord Raasharu!'

Skyshan of Ki held the reins to my horse, and I greeted Altaru with as much gladness. I climbed onto his back and said to Baltasar, 'You seem ready for a journey.'

'That we are,' he said. 'As soon as your boat was sighted, we broke camp. It was thought that with such a long delay, you would want to ride as soon as possible.'

The tightness of his voice told me that he had worried we would never return; the faces of my Guardians told me the same thing. Valari restraint kept them from voicing their concern. But the ways of the Sarni warriors were very different.

'Aara!' a strong voice cried out. The moment that Atara set foot to land, Karimah jumped off her horse with several other Manslayers. Karimah rushed forward to kiss Atara, and she began weeping and talking, all at the same time, wailing out, 'Four days you were gone! I thought you were dead - we all did. What kept you, my dear?'