Mirror 04 The Way Between the Worlds (42 page)

Llian stood up. The wind blew him off his feet again, so he crouched down in
the snowdrift, which provided meagre shelter from the howling wind. He tried
to work out what had happened. They had landed on the side of a steep hill.
Presumably Karan and Maigraith had also fallen down here
somewhere. It had been just on dawn in Thurkad but that might be an hour
later, this far south. He enveloped himself in his cloak and waited stoically
for it to get light.
Eventually the sun rose to illuminate a white world. Snow whirled all about.
Llian stood up, shaking it off his hood. 'Karan!' he shouted.
A sheep-shaped mound not far up the hill heaved. 'Oh, it's so cold.'
'Why did you let go of my hand?' he said crossly.
'I didn't, you let go of mine. Have you seen her?'
'No!'
They eventually found Maigraith huddled in the snow beside a rock, with a
twisted knee and a lump on her head.
'What happened?' they said together.
'I don't know. You weren't with me. The first I remember is waking with a sore
head, so I crawled here and waited.'
'Is this the right place?'
'We'll have to wait until it stops snowing,' said Karan.
'Obviously it wasn't winter when you were last here,' Llian said sourly. 'Take
us out of here. Anywhere!'
'I can't,' Maigraith said.
'Why not?'
'I can't make another gate without resting from the first. The after-effects
are bad enough as it is.'
They put up their tent, with considerable difficulty, and huddled inside it
all day.
That night the snow eased but in the morning Maigraith's knee was, if
anything, more swollen and painful than previously. 'We'll have to go back,'
said Karan.
Maigraith tried to visualise the rooftop. Nothing happened.
'I can't do it,' she said. 'I know the destination but I can't see it in my
mind.'
'Let me help you,' said Karan. Making another link, she gave Maigraith her own
image of the place.
Maigraith went rigid. 'Stop!' she screamed.
'What's the matter?'
'You ... see it differently from me. No, I've lost it. It's hopeless, and
every try makes it worse.'
Karan and Llian looked at one another. 'It's going to be a long cold walk back
to Thurkad,' said Llian. 'Two hundred leagues, the way the birds fly - I
calculate we'll get there about mid-summer. Has anyone got any money?'
'Shush, Llian.' Without the gate their plight was desperate. Karan had not a
grint on her, of course.
'My knee isn't so bad now,' said Maigraith.
The weather began to clear and shortly they saw, from their vantage point, the
town of Saludith only a league or two to the west and, about as far south, a
stronghold that might have been their destination. It seemed to fit the rather
vague description of the college that Llian remembered. Further along the
road, a track wandered in that general direction.
By the time they reached the place it was nearly dark. Haakhaast Academy, it
said in iron letters over the gate. An ancient, tottering guard asked their
business. From inside his coat Llian produced a badge that proclaimed him to
be a master chronicler.
'I am Llian, of Chanthed. I must consult the library on a matter of some
urgency.'
The guard stared at the badge, inspected Llian, then rang a bell and waved
them through to the next gate. This time the inspection was more rigorous, but
eventually they graduated into a courtyard and a third gate. It was open,

beyond which they saw a wide hall. Once more Llian showed his badge and told
his story. This time he was questioned searchingly about things that a master
chronicler might be expected to know, or so Karan gathered, since she knew
none of the answers.
Evidently the test was passed, for a servant ushered them into a sitting room:
stone walls and floor, high timbered ceiling. The room was frigid, even near
the fire. A slender woman dressed in a toga of grey silk hobbled in. She had a
long pallid face and eyelids that sagged down over her eyes so she could
hardly see. She wore sandals whose leather straps were as fine as string,
exposing blue feet twisted with rheumatism.
'My name is Ralah. I am the Autand of this academy.' She examined Llian's
badge, and asked one or two other questions, which he answered, apparently to
her satisfaction.
'We have to be sure,' she apologised, blinking constantly. 'What we have here
is very precious. Precious to us anyway, though fewer and fewer come to look,
or to study. Llian the Zain! I've heard of you, of course, though I've not had
the privilege of hearing you tell. It's many years since I made the long
journey to Chanthed, and I shall not go again. Perhaps while you are here ..
.' She squinted at him and Llian saw that under the drooping lids her eyes
were cloudy - she was nearly blind.
'I would be most happy to tell for you,' he said. 'If it's not too
presumptuous, I could tell the Tale of Nassi and Shuthdar.'
Ralah chuckled. 'No, not that tale, we are steeped in it. One of the Great
Tales, or even one of the lesser. Any would do! We hear so little here, and
perhaps it would bring back something of the enthusiasm that we have lost.
But, where are my manners?'
She pulled a bell and refreshments were brought, a sweet mild brewed drink not
unlike lasee, though they called it by a different name, mord, and honey
cakes.
'You had better tell me your business,' she continued, when they were seated
by the fire munching their crisp cakes. 'I hear the most urgent news, by
skeet, though the details take months to get here. It must be critical to have
brought you all this way in winter. How is the Great North Road south of Clews
Top? Usually with the snow. ..' her voice was suddenly frosty.
Llian glanced at Maigraith. 'We did not come by any road, except the one
outside your door,' she said. 'Only two days ago we were in Thurkad, in the
rain. I made a portal there
and brought these two with me all the way to the chalk mountain.'
Ralah stared at her, not even blinking. She made a little sigh and her
shoulders sagged. 'It's never really lost, is it? A thousand years it might
remain hidden, but sooner or later it will out again. The miracle of gates!'
'We tried to go back when Maigraith twisted her knee, but the miracle didn't
work.'
'You probably weren't in quite the right place,' said Ralah. 'I think I can
see what you've come for, but tell me the story over dinner. The whole story.'
After dinner, which featured turnip in a dozen combinations, all horrible,
they took a glass of vinegary port and went to their rooms. Karan and Llian's
had a huge canopied bed, and the room was so cold that they were not long out
of it.
In the morning they were taken to the archives, where the most precious papers
were kept, including the original writings of the famous Nassi. 'Here we are,'
said Ralah, indicating a shelf containing many rectangular boxes made of
leather.
Karan reached up and was instantly rebuked. 'Only the chronicler may touch
these boxes. The papers are old and very fragile.'
Maigraith and Karan stood in the cold aisle, watching while Ralah took Llian
down the row, explaining the system to him, taking down a box now and again to
show what was inside.
Llian had one of the boxes down. An odour of camphor came faintly along the
aisle. 'Come and look at this!' he cried. When they hurried up he said, in a

voice suppressed to a whisper, 'These are the very papers that Shuthdar made
to trick Bandiar with.' He was awed. 'Imagine! Nothing else he wrote remains.'
Karan was less awed. 'Is it any use to us?'
'No, I don't suppose so. But imagine . . .'
Karan gave a loud sniff.
'Yes,' said Llian sadly. 'You're right. Another time perhaps.' Closing the
box, he blew a speck of dust off the spine and replaced it on the shelf with
exquisite care. He took down another.
That process was repeated for the whole of the day, and several times they had
to remind Llian that they were not here for his amusement, though Karan
suspected that he still indulged himself as much as he dared. She was sure
that he went back to the box containing Shuthdar's writings too, and spent a
long time with it, but when she accused him he just smiled at her. Still, he
got through many boxes, and late in the afternoon found the ones he was
looking for, containing the records Nassi had made soon after fleeing with
Shuthdar.
It was evident that these documents had been looked at many times, for they
were in worse condition than the others, yellow and cracking to pieces. They
had to be handled with such care that it took almost a minute to turn each
page. The task could take weeks.
'There are copies of these papers, of course,' he said, turning to Ralah.
'No copies,' she said.
Llian was astounded. 'But there could be a fire, or a storm might blow the
roof off! Even a worm could destroy what you guard so carefully.'
'It was not our founder's wish that her private papers be duplicated. We
respect that wish. When they are gone, they are gone. There are, of course,
copies of all our other precious documents.'
Llian made a rude noise. The Histories were more important than any single
person, and when he returned to Thurkad he would write out everything he had
read, from his perfect chronicler's memory.
He turned back to his work. Ralah sat on a stool watching him. Karan and
Maigraith paced.
The next day they started early. It was tediously slow for the watchers. The
writing was crabbed, faint with age, and in an archaic dialect which was
difficult even for Llian to make out. He worked through the boxes
methodically, making sure that he had missed nothing, then went back to one.
'This is all I can find. May I see the catalogue?'
Ralah took him to the place. Llian went through the relevant cards, and again.
'There seems to be one missing. There's a missing number.'
Ralah bent over the drawer, shuffling the cards back and forth. 'Oh dear!' she
said, blinking furiously. 'You're right.'
'What was the item?' asked Maigraith.
'I don't know,' said Ralah, 'but it would be - '
'Something Nassi wrote about the flute,' Llian said bitterly. 'But it's gone,
and the catalogue entry removed, and there's no copy.'
Ralah said nothing.
'Do you have any idea what it said? How it was used, that is?' Llian tried to
keep the frustration out of his voice.
'I am the custodian, not a chronicler. It is not my task to know the details
of her papers, only to keep them safe for posterity.'
Oh for a Nadiril here! thought Llian. Posterity is now, and you are no use at
all. 'How can I find out if she wrote about it some place else?'
'You can read everything in the library.'
'That would take years,' he said to Maigraith. Then, turning back to Ralah,
'There are no masters here, or even students, who know these particular
papers?'
'Alas,' she said. 'No more.'
'Go through it all again!' Maigraith looked impatient.
Llian took the papers to a nearby table, sat down and began to read aloud.
Finally he put everything back in the box. 'She talks about Shuthdar playing

the flute, but only in passing.'
'She wrote at length about all his tricks and puzzles, but
nothing at all about the most important thing of all?' said Maigraith. 'Is
there no mention about how he used the Secret Art to turn the music into a
gate, and how he directed and controlled the gate afterwards?'
'She may have written a treatise,' said Llian, 'but it's not here.'
'Well, what do you think? Sniff it out with your chronicler's nose.'
'Such things have a way of disappearing, especially when no copies have been
made.' He directed a reproachful glare at Ralah but she was oblivious.
Ralah bent down until her nose was almost touching the page, moving her head
up and down to read. Her eyes were watering. 'I need my glass.' She fumbled
inside her toga, found nothing and put her head down to the page again. Then
she turned the box over to see what was written there. Her lips moved. She
looked up, her eyes focussing slowly on Llian's face.
'This is definitely the one. I went through all this some years ago, reading
everything and checking the catalogue. It would astound you the number of
errors I found.'
Llian knew the workings of libraries all too well to be astounded at anything
he found there, but he merely mumbled something that could be taken any way
she pleased.
Maigraith looked along the rows of shelves. 'Days are precious now. We can't
waste any more time here.'
Closing the box, Ralah put it back on the shelf and led them to the hall and
the fire. 'Lunch is ready,' she said.
While they were drinking a welcome cup of tea Maigraith went through the
visitors' book.
'Are you looking for anyone in particular?' asked Ralah, who had come up
behind her silently.
'Faelamor, Yggur, Tensor, Mendark, Tallia, Malien for starters,' Maigraith
replied. 'Oh, what's the use? They might have come in disguise.'
'It would have to be a very good disguise,' said Ralah.
'Nassi made a kind of Sentinel to protect us from such intrusions, and most of
them are still working. I can tell you that Faelamor has not been here, but
Yggur has. Nadiril of course, and Mendark many times. He spent months here
once, but that was before my time. I've not seen any of them in years.'
Maigraith sighed. 'Well, we need tarry here no longer.'
'Someone's been here,' she said once they were out of hearing, 'and taken away
what I came for. Someone's waiting for the flute to be made so they can take
it for themselves.'
'Do you have any idea who?' Karan asked.
'Faelamor, Yggur, Tensor, Mendark, for starters.'
'We'll have to be more careful,' said Llian. 'Every villain on Santh will want
the flute, once it's made.'
They trudged back through the snow, walked all around the hill in a spiral
upward path, and every few steps Maigraith tried to open the portal again, but
without the least glimmering of success. Finally, just as the sun was setting,
she slumped down in the snow.
'My head is exploding,' she said.
'Then give it away,' said Karan, 'or we'll never get out of here.'
Maigraith lay back on the show, looking up at the white tooth of the hill, the
chalk cliff towering above her, crisscrossed with narrow ledges that goats
could barely have walked upon. 'Where exactly did you come out of the gate?'
she wondered.
'Over there, right at the base of the cliff,' said Llian. 'See that little
shelf, then it drops away down that embankment. That's where we fell down.'
'Let's try it there.' Karan gave Maigraith her shoulder. She limped across in
the failing light.
'This feels more like it,' said Maigraith. 'Yes, I think I could do it from
here, if my head would just settle down. Oh, I'm all hot and cold, and my
wrists and elbows ache.' She rubbed snow on her inflamed cheeks.