The Heartstone (34 page)

She looked behind her. She knew Rhysin was on his way. She didn’t see him but her left side throbbed where the raven’s beak had stabbed so long ago. She turned back to the doors, enough stalling. This was it. Taking a deep breath she walked to the doorway and gingerly stepped through the jagged hole.

She was inside Galancarrig. It was pitch black and the air was foul with age and the residue of ancient evil. The floor under her feet crunched as she stepped on dried leaves and the remains of whatever small creatures lived here. She covered her mouth with her hand. The Heartstone pulsed against her breast. She took it out and held it up. It blazed, throwing a harsh white light on everything.

The anteroom was long and narrow with smoke-blackened walls and the remains of a tiled mosaic floor. She couldn’t make out the design. It looked like some type of animal. Dust covered everything. Snow and leaves had blown in, settling in huge piles in the corners. It looked as if a nest of mice had lived here for decades. The white marble staircase leading up to blackness dominated the room.

Originally it had swept up from the elegant tiled floor like a swan’s wing. Now the stairs were cracked, treads loosened, rubble piled on the lower level. She started walking up. She took it slow, testing each step as she ascended. The walls around her weren’t damaged. They were unmarked by fire or age. Their translucent crystal reflected the Heartstone’s light. Ariana marveled at the craftsmanship.

The stairs had not fared as well and several times she stumbled on a loose tread or stepped over a pile of stone. She hadn’t climbed very far when she reached a landing. There was a long curving hallway with doors standing open and the ruins of many gracious chambers greeted her as she passed. The stone was warm against her chest. She stopped in front of the first door. The stone flickered and grew cooler. She continued down the hall.

The hall culminated at a black iron door. The floor was dusty. She walked among the tracks of countless mice. A yard away from the final doorway the tracks ceased. The dust in front of the door was undisturbed. She stopped to study the scene. The Heartstone blazed. The door looked ordinary, iron, almost aggressively plain. She wondered why it hadn’t rusted.

It hadn’t been opened in years. All the other doors had been ripped from their hinges or hacked open. None of them led up. Ariana didn’t want to be the one to open this door. But there was no choice. She tiptoed forward leaving footprints in the virgin dust. She reached toward the door handle.

Don’t touch. The warning was wordless but urgent. Somehow she was being warned. Closing her eyes she touched the Stone. It leapt eagerly to her command like a hunting dog hot on the trail. She touched the door with the Stone’s light. The door blazed in her mind like a red-hot iron rod. Probing she found the lock mechanism. She rotated the tumblers and felt the lock click open. The door swung open with a loud screech.

Ariana opened her eyes. She dropped flat to the floor. Frantic she tried to disappear. Overhead a monstrous black shadow flowed out from the doorway. It had been set here as a guard or a warning. Roughly man shaped it clawed hungrily at the semi fresh air. Terror filled her. She was paralyzed. Her hand strayed to the Heartstone. The creature wasn’t interested in her. It flew to freedom in a viscous black cloud and was gone.

Ariana stayed still until she was sure it was gone. Then she stood and brushed the dust off. She walked cautiously through the doorway into blackness. The Heartstone pulsed against her chest. She picked it up but the darkness remained. It pressed against her like smothering velvet. She took a step. A strong wind pushed her back. Her pupils widened searching for any scrap of light. The folds of darkness muffled all sound. It was a living presence. Right now it was neutral. It hadn’t noticed her. She tucked the Heartstone into her tunic to avoid detection. She walked forward against the pressure and darkness hoping to find the way out and up.

Her eyes created colors in the blackness, Sunspots vivid yellow and red, they weren’t real but her soul yearned toward them. Crossing the invisible floor dread and sorrow seeped into her. There was no hope. There had never been any hope. Light was a memory. Darkness was the only reality.

She was in her father’s room. Looking at the bureau where a wedding ring sat abandoned on the polished wood. The wind whispered through the trees outside and the sun slanted through the windows. The white curtains billowed in breeze. She was sixteen. It was her father’s wedding day.

She picked up the ring. The gold was warm in her hand. Anger and hurt pushed out through tears. She put the ring on. It was big. She looked in the mirror at her angry young face. She vowed she’d never abandon her mother. The darkness thinned. She could feel tears running down her face.

She saw her mother. Julia was reaching for her. The darkness cleared for a moment. Julia’s blue eyes were ravaged with pain. She stumbled toward her mother. Dimly she heard a hissing sound. Another wave of grief hit her. This time it knocked her to her knees. She wept crawling forward to where her mother waited. She raised her head her mother was gone. In front of her sat a lump of oozing mud in a vaguely human shape. A slimy tendril flopped toward her. She gagged and flinched away. It came closer. Desperate she tried to evade it. There was no escape. She couldn’t move.

Fury filled her. No pile of mud was going to stop her. She’d been through too much to get here. Instinct took over. She accessed the Heartstone. Silver fire flashed. The mass dried instantly turning to dust. Wind gusted into the room blowing it away. Ariana saw a glimmer of almost light. Were her eyes were playing tricks? She rushed forward through the lightening gloom. There was an archway and steps leading upward. As her foot hit the first tread the room pulling at her to drag her back and devour her. She screeched and kept going. After a few steps the feeling stopped and the darkness receded. She rushed upstairs slamming the door behind her. When she felt far enough away she stopped. She took a shuddering breath, leaning weakly against the cool wall.

After a few minutes she wiped her eyes, blew her nose and started again. There were fewer rooms on this level. The rooms were larger and more opulent. The walls were more translucent and the doorways grander. She let the Stone guide her. Urgency filled her. Her side burned. She knew he was coming. Somehow he was here too. The Stone’s hummed through her like a high-pitched violin note. It eased the pain for a moment but she welcomed the pain. It was a signal. She touched the Stone with her hand. The power surged through her refreshing her.

At the end of this hall waited an archway, bare of decoration. None was needed; the doors opening out from the room were dazzling enough: two panels of mirrors untouched by the dust of years. Ariana looked at the mirrors.

Instead of her own reflection she saw an exquisite valley dominated by a tower stretching to the heavens. There was a sense of tranquility. She felt her heart ease. The men and women in the valley tended to the needs of Galancarrig. Men studied the magic of the Stone and took the knowledge out into the world. Pilgrims came to Galancarrig. If the Guardians deemed them worthy they were allowed to see the Heartstone after passing certain tests. Generations passed in peace and gradually the Guardians vigilance lessened.

One day a pilgrim came to Galancarrig. He was the son of a prince, haughty and proud. The Guardians refused him entry. The refusal rankled in his heart. Years passed. He studied magic secretly. One night at the dark of the moon he raided Galancarrig. It was a slaughter. The Guardians clustered around the sacred tower trying vainly to protect the Heartstone.

The mirror showed him stealing through the gate, hiding in the shadows. Once he got inside the fortress he opened the gates to his soldiers and in the confusion sneaking to the Web of Stars. One lone woman barred the final crystal door, white hair whipped around her face. Her eyes were wide and power crackled in the air around her. Ariana realized it was her grandmother. She blasted the raider but he overcame her slicing through her throat with a black bone knife. She crumpled like a broken twig.

The raider stepped up to the Web of Stars. Ariana could see the disbelief in his eyes. It was empty. In the distance a lone figure stepped into a cave with a baby and a jewel, a few moments later a youth dressed in black reeled from the cave covering his face and keening in anguish.

The view shifted. The entire valley was engulfed in flames. Corpses of both Guardians and raiders littered stream. The crystal water was red with blood. Suddenly a bright light flashed. Blue fire raced from one of the mountains to the tower. The tower exploded. The mirrors filled with the great light of the explosion then went black and dull. Ariana took a deep breath. She walked through the doors.

More steps. Quickly she reached the next floor. This time there were only four doors and another stairway leading up with crystal steps crafted of crystal. The walls here were pearly and glowed as she passed. The Heartstone remained cold. She knew she should pass by but curiosity won. She glanced in one room. It looked virtually undisturbed. It was a huge airy apartment decorated in lavender and blue. Great windows opened onto a delicate balcony. Thick carpet covered the tile floor and a huge fireplace dominated one end of the apartment.

She stepped inside. Looking out the window the view took her breath away. The valley spread out before her like and icy jewel. She yearned to bring life back to it. There was a black spot in the pearl gray sky. She squinted out the window. It was the raven. She thought she could see the evil red eyes glittering at her in triumph. Terror speared her like the stabbing pain in her ribs. She rushed out of the room and pelted up the stairs.

There were only two rooms on this level. One door was closed and locked. The other was an open archway. Her heart was pounding with fear as she thought of Rhysin following her. This room was windowless and round. The walls were covered in mother of pearl tiles shimmering in the soft light. Ariana looked for the light’s source but couldn’t find it. Twelve fluted columns spaced evenly around the room supported the ceiling dome. The floor dominated the room. It was covered in an intricate mosaic. Every color swirled in an intermingled spiral leading to the absolute center of the room.

She took a deep breath, cradled the Heartstone in her hands and stepped through the arch. The instant her foot touched the first tile a flare of light shot up to the white dome. Her body tingled. Carefully she put her other foot down in front of the first one. For a moment she saw the entire spiral path limned in blue bound by walls of shimmering red. Then it was gone. The lights went out.

The only illumination came from tiles she’d already touched ankle high, cool as water the blue light showed her the path. Moving quickly she walked along the wall on the path. There was a slight resistance in the air. Renewing her concentration she finished the outer circuit.

As she turned inward a sudden wind gusted. Her right foot slipped. Pain lanced ups her foot and she hissed. It felt like red-hot pins and needles. The pain unbalanced her and she wobbled. She regained her balance and continued forward. She walked on the edge of a sword and if she fell the penalty was death. She held the Stone tight, breathing slowly to calm down.

The wind was stronger. It grew harder to stay in the light. Somehow her feet kept to the spiral; it was growing narrower and the resistance greater. The light was knee high now. She could see farther. Her world narrowed. She concentrated on putting her foot squarely in the center of the path at each step. The wind eased for a moment. She’d finished the second circuit.

There was no time for congratulations. The light was waist high. Now Ariana heard voices on the wind. The resistance grew. It felt like she was stepping on live coals. She tried to speed up but failed. The wind whispered. Doubt gnawed at her. She was never going to succeed. Why had she thought she could succeed? She’d let Cerynus die. She hadn’t been able to help him. What made her think she could defeat Rhysin and put the Stone where it belonged? She let go of the Stone. She should just stop. Why was she fighting the inevitable?

She stopped for a moment. The voices grew louder more insistent. The suggestions came, she should just stop, rest, and let go. The voices soothed her. She needed rest, sleep. She nodded numbly. Her knees buckled and she fell to her knees on the sparkling path. All she wanted was sleep. It was so nice here, so cozy and warm. She was so tired.

Her hand brushed the Heartstone. The compulsion lifted. Where the spiral path ended was a black void. Red eyes watched her avidly. She heard the excited chittering of hungry mouths, waiting to feast when she succumbed. Fighting the voices she rose to her feet. Where her hands had hit the mosaic tiles they were burned but she felt no pain. Blue energy swirled up her arms. When it reached the Heartstone Ariana felt renewed. She studied her hands. They were unblemished but tattooed with blue tendrils.

The spiral tightened. The light was chest high now. Ariana concentrated to keep her footing. The wind blasted her; every step was an effort. The path narrowed. Ariana refused to give in. The spiral was so tight Ariana stood on tiptoes to continue. The light reached the top of her head. She put her foot down on the final tile and stood in the absolute center of the spiral.

The blue light thrust up to the ceiling corkscrewing around the chamber. Faster and faster it went until a crystal staircase formed around her. This was the stairway to the Web of Stars. Wonder filled her. Her soul yearned to be part of the wind. Freedom beckoned. Somehow she stayed still. This was the final test. If she gave way to the chaos she’d be lost forever.