Legacy of the Darksword (29 page)

Scylla shut off the engine to the
air car. It settled down upon the road and we sat in darkness and in silence,
watching the gate.

Nothing, no one appeared.

“They are waiting for us to show
ourselves,” Mosiah said, his voice harsh and overloud in the stillness. “Let’s
get this over with.”

He drew his hood up over his head
and put his hand on the door. Scylla reached out, clasped hold of his arm,
halting him.

“You should not go. The
Technomancers have no reason to harm any of the three of us. But you . . .” She
leaned near him, said softly, “We are close to the Borderland. Stay hidden in
the car. When the Technomancers are gone, return to the base. Go back to Earth
and prepare King Garald and General Boris. They have to face the fact that the
Technomancers will soon be in possession of the Darksword. They need to be
forewarned, to make what plans they can.”

He regarded her in silence for
long moments, such profound silence that I could hear his breath come and go. I
could hear Scylla’s
breathing,
hear Eliza’s, hear my
own. I could hear my own heart beating.

“I wish I knew,” Mosiah said at
last, “whether you were just trying to get rid of me or whether you truly
cared
about”
— pausing, he then said, somewhat lamely—”about King Garald and the
Darksword.”

Scylla grinned. I could see her
face in the lambent light of stars and moon and the setting sun. Her eyes
flashed with laughter and that cheered me, too, as had the moonglow.

“I care,” she said, and her grasp
on his arm tightened.

“About the people of Earth, I
meant,” he said gruffly.

“Them, too,” Scylla responded,
her grin widening.

He regarded her in frowning
perplexity, for he thought she was teasing him and this was certainly no time
for kidding around.

“All right, Mosiah, so I was
wrong about you at the beginning,” Scylla said, shrugging. “You’re not your
typical Enforcer, probably because you weren’t born to it. And, as I said, you’re
much better-looking than your file photos. Return to Earth. There’s nothing you
can do here and you’ll only put yourself in danger and maybe us along with you.”

“Very well,” he agreed, after
another moment’s thought. “I will remain inside the car. But leave the
Darksword here with me, at least until you have proof that the hostages are
alive. If the Technomancers try to seize it, they will find me guarding it;
something they might not expect.”

“A fine guard,” Scylla scoffed.
“You with no Life and no other weapon.”

Mosiah smiled, for the first time
since I’d met him. “The Technomancers don’t know that.”

Scylla looked startled,
then
she chuckled. “You have a point, Mosiah. If your plan
is okay with Eliza, it’s okay with me.”

Eliza did not answer. I wasn’t
certain she had even heard, but then she nodded, once, slowly.

“The Almin go with you,” Mosiah
said.

“And with you,” said Scylla, and
she clapped him in bois^er-ous good humor on the shoulder. “Ready?” We might
have been going to a carnival, for her ebullient spirits.

Eliza’s face glimmered pale in
the darkness. It seemed as if I were sitting beside a ghost. She stretched out
her hand, to touch either Scylla or Mosiah, but she hesitated,
then
rested her hand on the back of the front seat.

“Did my father do the right
thing?” she asked, and my heart ached for the agony in her voice. “All those
people dying ... I never realized ... I need to know.”

Mosiah turned his face away. He
stared out the front of the car window, toward the city that had become a tomb.

Scylla’s grin vanished. Her
expression somber, she rested her hand on Eliza’s, and the touch that had been
so brash was now gentle.

“How can we ever know, Eliza?
Toss a pebble in the lake. The ripples spread out far beyond the entry point,
continue long after the pebble sinks to the bottom. Each and every action we
take, from the smallest to the largest, has ramifications that we will never
see. We can only do what we believe is best and right at the time. Your father
did that, Eliza. Given the circumstances, he made the best decision—perhaps the
only decision—he could.”

Eliza was not speaking only of
her father. She was speaking for herself. In returning the sword to the
Technomancers, was
she
making the right decision? Would the ripples from
her action fade into the placid smoothness of time’s lake or build into a
crushing tidal wave?

Eliza drew in a deep breath. She
had made her decision.

“I am ready,” she said. She drew
the blanket over the Darksword.

We opened the doors of the air
car and climbed out, all except Mosiah, who hunkered down in the front seat. We
left the Darksword on the floor in the back.

Scylla had brought with her a
pair of infrared binoculars. With these, she scanned the strange forest, a
forest which had remained inside boundaries that were supposedly no longer
there. Ahead of us was the East Road Gate—at least that’s what I assumed it
was. An invisible gate in an invisible wall is not easy to find.

“No one,” Scylla said, lowering
the binoculars.

“I feel
as
if someone
was
watching me,” said Eliza, shivering, though the night wind was warm.

“Yes,” Scylla agreed. “So do
I
.” She kept her gaze forward, shifting, seeking,
searching
.

“What do we do?” Eliza demanded.
Her voice cracked. The strain was starting to wear her down. “Why is no one
here?”

“Patience,” counseled Scylla. “This
is their game. We have to play by their rules. Remember—we must see for
ourselves that the hostages are alive and well. Look inside the gate. Do you
see anything?”

I recalled what I had read. In
the past, anyone who entered the gate was immediately transformed into the
likeness of one of the inmates of the Zoo—a daunting possibility. For if the
Kan-Hanar,
the gatekeepers, discovered that you had been erroneously admitted, you
might become a permanent resident of the Zoo.

This edict maintained the
integrity of the Zoo. The sight of fat tradesmen tramping through the hunting
grounds of the fierce centaurs would spoil the effect.
To say
nothing of the fact that the centaurs—who were not illusion, but very
real—might decide to feast on a fat tradesman.
And so the tradesmen were
transformed into images of centaurs and thus—if they kept to the path— passed
through the Zoo swiftly and safely.

Of course, the elite magi who
either lived in Zith-el or had business there entered that city by way of the
Corridors, and so did not have to go through the demeaning process of entering
the gate. This experience was reserved for peasants, students, peddlers, field
magi, and the lower ranks of the catalysts.

“I see nothing inside the gate,”
Eliza said.
“Nothing at all.
That’s very strange. It’s
as if there
were a huge hole
cut out of the forest.”

I nodded, to indicate that my
view was the same.

“And yet the magic is supposed to
be gone,” Scylla murmured.

“Not according to
your
theory,”
I signed.

I have no idea whether she
understood me or not, it being difficult to read sign language in near
darkness.

“Are we . . , are we supposed to
meet them inside there?” Eliza asked
,
daunted at the
prospect of entering the dark maw which gaped before us.

“No,” said Scylla reassuringly. “They
said to meet
outside
the East Road Gate. If the Technomancers are in
Zith-el, my guess is that they found some means of entering that did not
involve passing through the Zoo.”

I could well believe that the
Technomancers would be reluctant to enter. Standing before the gate was like
standing in the mouth of a cave, feeling the chill air that comes from deep
underground touch your skin with clammy fingers. A strange smell emanated from
the Zoo, drifting only occasionally to the nostrils, then vanishing. It was the
smell of living things, of excrement and rotten food, mingled with the odor of
verdure and loam, and, underneath it, decay.

We stood waiting for perhaps
fifteen minutes, our uneasiness growing. If the Technomancers meant to unnerve
us, they succeeded, at least with Eliza and
myself
. I’m
not sure what it would have taken to unnerve Scylla, who stood beside us, arms
folded across her chest, a slight smile on her lips.

Eliza shivered again. I offered
to go back to the car for her wrap, but Scylla stopped me.

“Look!” she said softly, and
pointed.

A figure was moving toward us, on
our side of the invisible wall. It did not walk, but glided over the ground. It
was alone and was, by its dress, a woman. Eliza gasped and clasped her hands.

“Mother!” she whispered.

The figure was Gwendolyn, coming
toward us, drifting over the ground. I recalled then that she was one of the
magi, that
she could float where the mundane were forced to
walk. But I also recalled that I had not once seen her use her magic when we
were at her home. Perhaps that was out of respect for Joram.

Gwen floated toward us, her gaze
focused lovingly on her daughter.

“Mother?”
Eliza repeated, perplexed,
hopeful,
afraid
.

Gwendolyn dropped gracefully to
the ground and held out her arms. “My child,” she said in choked tones. “How
frightened you must have been!”

Eliza held back. “Mother, why are
you
here? Did you escape them? Where is Papa?”

Gwendolyn took a step toward her
daughter. “Are you all right,
love
?” Reaching out, she
took one of Eliza’s hands.

Eliza flinched, but then, seeing
her mother’s worried, loving face so near, she seemed to melt.

“I’m fine, Mother. Only so
worried about you and Papa! I heard he was hurt. How is he?”

“Eliza, have you brought the
Darksword?” Gwendolyn asked, smoothing her daughter’s black curls.

“Yes,” said Eliza.
“But Papa!
Is he well?
And Father Saryon?
Is he all right?”

“
Of course,
child.
I would not have come to you otherwise,” Gwendolyn replied, with
a reassuring smile. “Your father is angry with you for taking the Darksword,
but if you return it, he will forgive you.”

“Mother, I’m frightened for Papa.
I saw the blood! And they killed the sheep. All the sheep are dead, Mother!”

“You know how hot-tempered your
father is.” Gwen sighed. “He was caught off guard when the Technomancers
entered our house. Their leader admits that they acted rashly and he has
apologized. Your father suffered a slight injury.
Nothing
serious.
His greatest hurt lies with you, Eliza. He believes you have
betrayed him!”

“I didn’t mean to betray him,”
Eliza said, her voice quavering. “I thought if I gave them the sword, they
would go away and leave us alone and we could be happy again! That’s all I
meant to do.”

“I understand, daughter, and so
will your father. Come and tell him this yourself.
My pet!”
Gwendolyn extended her hand. “We have so little time! Give me the Darksword and
our family will be reunited.”

I looked at Scylla, wondering if
she would remind Eliza of the admonition to see for herself that the hostages
were alive and well. Not that I didn’t trust Gwendolyn, but the thought came to
me that perhaps she was acting under duress.

Eliza gave a deep sigh, as if she
were throwing off a heavy burden. “Yes, Mother. I will give you the Darksword.”

Turning, she walked back to the
car. Gwendolyn remained standing near the wall. Her fond gaze never left her
daughter.

I thought Scylla would make some
protest, but she kept silent. It was Eliza’s decision to make, after all.

Returning to the car, she opened
the back door and bent down to pick up the sword. I think Mosiah tried arguing
with her, but—if so—their conversation was brief. Eliza slammed the door
irritably and started to walk back to us. She carried with her the Darksword,
both hands clasped around the hilt, the sword’s blade pointed down.

Mosiah climbed out of the car,
following after her, moving swiftly, silently.

Eliza had her back turned to him.
She was facing her mother. She did not see him or hear him and Gwendolyn had
eyes only for her daughter. Mosiah, in his black robes, was difficult to
distinguish in the half-light. I saw him because I had been expecting him to do
something like this. I had no doubt at all in my mind that he had deceived
us, that
he was going to try to take the Darksword by force.
Scylla saw him, but she only stood, watching, that same slight smile on her
lips.

Well, she had as good as admitted
that she was attracted to him. But what about her pledge to Eliza? I could
trust neither of these two apparently. Perhaps they were in league with each
other.