The Last Ringbearer (52 page)

Danger sneaked up on the
clofoel
of the World from an unexpected quarter. The
clofoel
of Might, left in charge during the Lady’s expedition to Mirkwood (the old battleaxe, who never played his own games, was the only member of the Council she could really trust), took to his duties with excessive zeal. Among other things, his subordinates have replaced the Galadhon palace guard, so that one fine morning the bewildered
clofoels
discovered that they were not allowed to come into the Blue Hall for a Council session. All their attempts to reason with the new guards failed against their implacable “no such orders!” Of course, the misunderstanding was rectified right away, but now everyone was aware that nowadays the rules were being set by the
clofoel
of Might at his discretion until the Lady’s return. Since the Lady had directly forbidden the
clofoel
of Stars to access the Mirror while she was away (a very sensible precaution), he simply barred all
clofoels
from the Moon Tower where the magical crystal was kept – “can’t overdo a good thing.” Should she fail to overcome this hurdle in the few remaining hours, her well-crafted plan will be for naught and nothing will save Eloar then …

“How is your search going, esteemed
clofoel
of Stars?” Eornis inquired with courteous indifference while they were taking their places around the Council table.

“Not good. I have asked you all to gather here for a much more grave reason …”

Eornis looked at the ruler of the magical forces of Lórien in amazement – the woman looked ill and her voice was strangely lifeless. It does look as serious as it can be, doesn’t it?

“I will not bother you with a detailed description of our magical rituals, esteemed
clofoels
of the Council and you, o radiant Lord – we have too little time … perhaps no time at all. For about a week now the dancers and I have been feeling strange pulsations in the Mirror’s magic field. First it was a light tremor, then it turned into real convulsions, and last night those convulsions assumed a definite and highly unpleasant rhythm … Do none of you feel anything?”

The
clofoel
of Memory broke the ensuing silence suddenly: “I feel it!” It was hard to tell what shocked the Council more – the report of the
clofoel
of Stars or this unheard-of breach of protocol. Formally all
clofoels
were equals, but never before did any of the lesser ones – all those palace librarians, nurses, and masters of ceremonies – dare interrupt the discussions of the Sovereigns and the Big Four. “It is exactly as you describe, o esteemed
clofoel
of Stars! But I didn’t know it was caused by the Mirror …”

How would you ever know that, you timid mouse, Eornis thought irritably. What do you know but your dusty Beleriand scrolls and stupid sagas? But I – how did I fail to connect all those vibrations with the Mirror? So that’s where my chills come from … The question is – do I acknowledge this fact and thereby assist that Star bitch? … Yes, and I should go even further, in fact.

“I believe that the esteemed
clofoel
of Memory has shown tremendous courage by openly stating what we all feel but are afraid to mention aloud. The feeling we are having is a strong irrational fear, is it not?”

“Maybe some girls feel strong irrational fear, but I personally fear not a damn thing,
clofoel
of the World! So don’t you go around saying …”

“Thank you, esteemed
clofoel
of Might; we have taken your opinion into account. As I understand it, the other members of the Council share the opinion voiced by the esteemed
clofoel
of the World.” The
clofoel
of Stars bowed slightly toward Eornis. “However, our fear is not irrational. The thing is that the Mirror … how should I explain this … it is somewhat alive. The pulsating rhythm it is now creating and we are feeling is well-known in magic: it is the rhythm of labor pains, but in reverse. It is a horrible thing. The Mirror is anticipating its demise and our World’s with it … It is anticipating, and trying to reach out to us, do you see? And the stars over Lórien seem to have gone mad …”

The
clofoel
of Tranquility leaned forward: “Could this be related to the magical object your dancers can’t find?”

“Yes, it could,” the
clofoel
of Stars nodded glumly; she was obviously indisposed to develop this idea further and even refrained from adding something appropriate about the Guards having done no better.

“Wait, what does this mean – the demise of our World?” That was Lord Celeborn; imagine, the man actually woke up!

“Literally, o radiant Lord – one moment it exists, the other it doesn’t, and we along with it.”

“Then do something!
Clofoel
of Stars! You, too,
clofoel
of Tranquility! I … I order you as your Lord!”

What would we ever do without your orders, o precious liege – that was what showed clearly on the faces of the Big Four. The
clofoel
of Stars traded looks with the
clofoels
of the World and Tranquility, lingering a bit on the
clofoel
of Might, and finally uttered:

“First, o radiant Lord, I must take a look at the Mirror immediately, without delay.”

“Yes, of course! Go right away!”

So this is my end, thought the
clofoel
of the World detachedly, staring at the play of the shades of green in the emerald of her ring. I can make no objection to her suggestion – she played her cards well and the entire Council, including that doddering fool, is on her side …

However, just then a figure clad in shining armor, its size and delicacy of features resembling those of the stone idols guarding lower Anduin, loomed over the table. While Eornis wondered idly whether the
clofoel
of Might ever took off his helmet and
mithril
mail (to make love, say), the man informed them of his opinion of cowards and civvies – which are really one and the same to him! – in plain soldier’s language. He, for one, feels no such ominous rhythms, and how would the
clofoel
of Stars and her dancers know this childbirth rhythm, anyway? Aren’t they supposed to be virgins? In any case, he has a direct order of the Lady not to let the
clofoel
of Stars to the Mirror, and any attempt to violate that order will be treated as rebellion, with all that follows … Yeah, and what did you think, o radiant Lord?!

“Yes, yes,” mumbled the Lord of Lórien (obviously the inescapable wrath of the Lady scared him a lot more than any hypothetical end of the world), “let’s wait for her return from the Dol Guldur expedition …”

“Come to your senses, radiant Lord!” Amazed, Eornis stared at the
clofoel
of Memory – the poor woman must have lost all grip on reality to utter such unthinkable words. “Our world is already sliding into the abyss, the only one who has any chance of saving it is the
clofoel
of Stars, and this idiot of the shining helmet is standing on an order received in times immemorial! All right, can’t blame a man with a bronze lump for brains, but you all – Great Eru, can’t you rise above your petty intrigues even now, on the eve of destruction?!”

Suddenly Eornis realized that the timid book mouse has simply voiced what the entire dozen of lesser
clofoels
were thinking. Not just them, either, as became clear the next second when the enraged
clofoel
of Might tossed his chair aside – for the
clofoel
of Tranquility was already coming around the table towards him, stepping softly as a tiger, hand on the hilt of his sword and a smile fit to freeze the Eternal Fire on his lips.

“You’ve just mentioned rebellion, esteemed
clofoel
of Might … that’s an interesting thought, isn’t it, o radiant Lord?”

“Hey, you … both of you …” the Lord mumbled pitiably and shrank in his chair: the lesser
clofoels
already backed to the walls, and …

“Stop!!” The solution that occurred to the
clofoel
of the World was akin to a flash of lightning: all the pieces of the puzzle she had been trying in vain to assemble suddenly fell into place in the only possible way. “I am speaking to you,
clofoel
of Might!”

He probably would not have listened to anyone else, but over the last few years’ worth of intrigues the
clofoel
of the World had always taken the Lady’s side, and thus had some influence over him.

“The radiant Lady did mention – in passing and half-jokingly – that the
clofoel
of Stars should not preen before her Mirror. However, she had imposed no restrictions on the other
clofoels’
access to the crystal. Do you agree, esteemed
clofoel
of Might?”

“Yes, that’s true …”

“You see? It’s settled, then: by the will of the Council I will ascend the Moon Tower. Of course, my magical abilities can’t even be compared to the talents of the esteemed
clofoel
of Stars, but I’m at least capable of comprehensively reporting the Mirror’s condition to her.”

The
clofoel
of Stars shook her head. “Do you have any idea, esteemed
clofoel
of the World, how dangerous it is to look in the Mirror to anyone not protected by my magical talents, as you’ve referred to them?”

“I have no intention of looking in the Mirror – my selflessness doesn’t go that far,” laughed Eornis. “As far as I know, the radiant Lady uses Lórien’s human visitors for this purpose; they are mortal anyway, sooner or later. We happen to have one handy – that flying Troll. I hope he hasn’t been liquidated yet, has he, esteemed
clofoel
of Tranquility?”

“No, not yet. We’ll have to fix him up some, though: when the poor slob read his testimony, he totally fell apart – first tried to kill himself, then went catatonic.”

“That’s no obstacle to what we need to do. So it’s agreed – you will turn the Troll over to me before noon?”

“Agreed. However, esteemed
clofoel
of the World … I’m somewhat concerned for your safety. A Troll is a Troll – a wild and unpredictable creature. The three of us will go to the Moon Tower together – you, me, and him. That’ll be safer.”

“I am so touched by your concern, esteemed clofoel of Tranquility.”

“Not at all, esteemed
clofoel
of the World.”

CHAPTER 66

T 
he sun was already approaching its zenith when they have passed the guards of the
clofoel
of Might at the entrance to the Moon Tower. The narrow spiral staircase forced them to go single-file. The
clofoel
of Tranquility went first, easily taking every other step; of course, he was not at all afraid of the Troll following him and had not even handcuffed him, relying on a Web spell instead. Milady Eornis brought up the rear, thinking over the details of her plan for one last time. Yes, there’s a chance of success, but it’s really minuscule, and the most unpleasant part is that everything depends on a myriad of coincidences, rather than her own abilities. In any event, her long game with the
clofoel
of Tranquility had reached its end – only one of them will come out of this tower alive, and only chance will determine which one …

The top chamber of the Moon Tower was a round room about ten yards in diameter, the Mirror its only furniture. The crystal was set in a
mithril
setting with curved legs a foot and a half long, so that the whole thing resembled a small table. Six lancet windows offered an excellent view of Caras Galadhon. It’s funny, Eornis reflected in passing, that this Troll is probably the only Man to ever see the real sight of the Elvish capital, but he won’t relate it to anyone. Those guests that we intend to release are never allowed beyond the
talien
next to Nimrodel, so those simpletons leave believing that we actually live on those perches …

“Bring him up to the Mirror,
clofoel
of Tranquility, but don’t remove the Web just yet …”

Only after uttering these words did the
clofoel
of the World realize that the Mirror was, indeed, in a bad way. The crystal was ink-black, the blackness lit up by pulses of scarlet light at regular intervals; it felt distinctly like the Mirror was emitting one endless silent scream of terror and pain. Maybe it’s not good for it to be close to a
palantír
? she wondered belatedly. Whatever, can’t change anything at this point. Please endure this a bit longer, she thought at the Mirror; this will all be over in a few minutes. As if in response, the crystal almost exploded from inside with a singularly powerful scarlet flash which for some reason reminded her of the Eternal Fire … The thought came and went as other matters occupied her attention: the
clofoel
of Tranquility had apparently noticed (felt, to be precise) that the room was not as empty as it seemed. According to her plan, that was exactly what he was supposed to do, without any prompting from her. Imagine the irony of relying on one’s mortal enemy’s intuition and professionalism!

The
clofoel
of Tranquility had thoroughly scanned the room and saw nothing suspicious, as was to be expected. It’s useless to search for anything magically here – the Mirror generates a magical field of such intensity as to drown those of all other objects. A totally empty room and a low ‘table’ on thin legs … Could I have hidden an object here, a small one? Yes, I could have … sure I could! Wait – a small object? What did the Troll say? “About the size of a child’s head!” So that’s why you wanted to get up to the Mirror! …

“
Clofoel
of the World! You’re under arrest for treason. Stand against the wall!”

They stood facing each other, the Mirror between them; the
clofoel
of Tranquility had bared his sword – he was not about to give that snake any chances, she was mortally dangerous as it was.