The Orb And The Spectre (Book 2) (23 page)

   Pader slowly kneaded his jaw with one hand. "He acted, strictly speaking, within the law, I’m afraid. But the case against Leth was tenuous; he was quite viciously and calculatedly exploited."

   "But was he sick?"

   "I believe not. He was, though, exhausted and severely distracted. Your disappearance, combined with everything else, affected him badly.
And . . . something else. I think now it must have had something to do with this."

   He nodded at the blue casket which lay upon a table at Issul's side.

   "What does Fectur know about this?"

  
"As far as I am aware, nothing. He searched the chamber and must have seen it, but attached no importance to it."

   "Did he see us, Pader? Did he hear?"

   "I pray not."

   Issul sat in silence, her head spinning. Finally, after profound consideration, she made the statement: "Pader, I have been to Enchantment."

   Pader stared at her in sudden consternation.

   "It’s true. I was captured by the
Karai. There was an underground chamber, and within it a strange thing, a Farplace Opening." She related her experience within the tower chamber, her encounter with the three white-haired, blue-eyed children who called themselves by the single name of Triune.

   Pader stood and paced the room, his head bowed and brow furrowed in deepest contemplation. "I am astounded.
A way into Enchantment?"

  
"And a way out. But for what?"

   "And you were held, you say?"

   "I could do nothing. I was helpless. I have no way of knowing whether I could have survived outside the tower."

   "And it was the
Karai who built the bunker where the Farplace Opening is lodged?" said Pader.

   "But
Karai were not permitted to enter. Once the chamber was built they were excluded. I am sure they didn’t know what was in there. And Triune claimed to have 'acquired' the Farplace Opening or the tower, or both, from the god which aids the Karai."

   And, she thought, Triune had said that something of Enchantment was now hers.
And what else?
In the dream you may not always be the dreamer. The dream may not be yours. Or it may be, and it may become real, now or soon or never. All things may be.

   Pader was gripping his jaw now, shaking his head in utter abstraction. Issul's eyes went to the blue casket resting at her side. "Pader, there is such mystery here."

ELEVEN

I

   The dim ghost-light of early morning found Issul awake upon the bed she shared with Leth. Sleep had continued to elude her and she hovered on the fitful border of wakefulness, tormented, mystified and deeply afraid. For the present she had avoided meeting with Grey Venger. She recognized that she was in no fit state to deal with him, and also required a fuller picture of the situation, which would be provided by Fectur's forthcoming report and another discussion with Pader Luminis.

   Issul thought about Mawnie. She had visited her bedchamber briefly upon returning to Orbia. Mawnie had been asleep, sedated. Doctor Melropius reported that her condition had not improved. When awake she was unpredictable, sometimes violent, and in her lucid moments had no recollection of what was happening to her. Issul had held her hand for a few moments, but was too pressed to remain. Gazing at Mawnie's pale, sleeping face, virtually the mirror-image of Ressa's, Ressa in her death-sleep, Issul had almost recoiled, suddenly fearful, the memories flooding back.

   Lir, Mawnie and Hugo's little daughter, was sitting cross-legged on the end of her mother's bed. Issul extended her arms to embrace her but Lir rolled away, slid from the bed and hid herself beneath, from where she obstinately and silently refused to be extricated.

   Issul dwelt now on Mawnie's dementia. What was it she had blurted out in her delirium, prior to Issul's departure from Enchantment's Reach? 'It was me.
Truly. It was me he wanted. In the woods. In the woods.' Poor Mawnie had kept the dreadful memory of the attack and Ressa's rape and murder buried for so long. Finally, inevitably with hindsight, she had cracked. Ressa's death, Mawnie's doomed marriage to Hugo, his subsequent disappointment and heartless rejection of her. . . . She had been building to this, becoming dissolute, seeking solace where none was to be found. Issul racked herself, anguished that she had not done more to help her sister.

   Before he left earlier in the night to conduct researches at the Arcane College, Pader Luminis had been at pains to try to set Issul's mind at rest. She was not to blame. Firmly but gently he had bade her understand this. She could not hold herself directly responsible either for Mawnie or the advent of the Legendary Child and the disasters that were befalling Enchantment's Reach. But Issul's doubts would not be quelled. Somehow, if she had acted differently. . . .

   She threw herself upon her side. She stared at the mysterious blue casket on the cabinet beside her bed.
What is this thing? What is its power, its nature?  . . . 'perhaps the means by which we will be saved'. A magical blue casket. How?

   'Safeguard this as you would your own children.'

   She thrust herself up, crying out. Pader's words echoed bruisingly in her mind.
My children! What am I doing here? I should be up, doing something, searching for Galry and Jace!

   But she remained as she was. What could she do? The search continued throughout Orbia for the King and their children, but Issul entertained little hope now that they would be found. Something had taken them, and whether they lived or died she was persuaded that no amount of human searching was likely to reveal them.

   Her eyes returned to the casket. She felt anger, at Leth, at the casket itself. Why could Leth not have been more explicit in his instructions to Pader Luminis? He should have given an indication. Anything. What did he know that had prevented him revealing more?

   The casket had to be linked in some way to Leth's and the children's disappearance. She found herself fearing and loathing it, wanting to smash it even as she wanted to take it to her and protect it from a violent and uncertain world in which it was so fragile.

   Around and around went the thoughts in her head, like a storm, with no order. Was this what Leth had gone through? And Mawnie? An external madness, a chaos, that worked its way inward, infecting the mind. . . . She thought of Fectur, wondered again what he had seen, what he might even now be plotting. Issul's swollen eyes ached. Her breast was constricted with a soundless, ceaseless shriek.

   She lay back again. Her eyes were on the raftered ceiling where shadows shifted uneasily in the subdued amber light cast by the flame of a single candle. She had one other thing to consider now: the little ivory carving. She had shown it to Pader. If there was anyone in Enchantment's
Reach who could tell her anything about it, other than the stranger who had given it to Moscul, it would be him. Even so, she had not expected much. Fectur would have passed the carving to Pader and the Arcane College for examination, and plainly had learned nothing of value. But to her surprise Pader had been forthcoming.

   "I told Lord Fectur that this was unusual but without value," he said.

   There was an inflection in his voice and an arch look in his eye.

   "Do you know something more?"

   "The carving resonates a subtle aura not dissimilar to that of the casket. It is almost certainly from Enchantment."

   "But you made no mention of this to Fectur?"

   "I wished to speak first to the King."

   Issul smiled to herself.

   "There is one other thing," added Pader Luminis. "The carving is hollow. It is what is within it that generates its aura. I cannot guess how it has been sealed inside, nor would I wish to liberate it until I know more."

   "Are you able to discover more?"

   "Frankly, no. At least, not with the resources presently available to me."

   "Is it harmful?"

   "I don’t know. It is yet another of Enchantment's mysteries. I would say that, while it remains sealed within the tusk, it can exert virtually no effect. One wonders whether perhaps that is the reason it was sealed in there in the first place."

   "This was given by a stranger to the Legendary Child."

   "That is very interesting. I would say, sweet Issul, that if you wish to learn more, short of taking the possibly perilous route of breaking open the tusk, you should locate the stranger and ask him."

   "The stranger has never been seen again, Pader."

   Issul lay still as a breath of breeze stirred the candle-flame and the shadows quivered among the beams.
Ask the stranger, who has never been found, who is now long gone.

   She did not know how long she lay there, but became aware suddenly that she must be sleeping.
For she was having a dream, and in the dream she was gazing across the chamber, and a strange figure was standing there, bulky yet indistinct, seeming to hover before one wall.

   "Who are you?"

   The figure, which was turned towards the window, now brought itself around to face her. She could see no features. It was a vaguely mannish form, hunched and stooped, and gave the appearance of great age. It was clad in long, ragged, ill-fitting robes and strips of cloth, and leaned with two bound hands on a thick staff. The head was huge, a bundled mass of rags, ribbons and bindings, and all around the figure hung a pale bluish luminescence, which somehow failed to cast light upon anything.

   "Who are you?" Issul repeated, sitting up.

   For some moments the figure was silent, then in a cracked, muffled, hoary voice it said, "I? Who am I? It is a good question, but a complex one. I find myself, in the light of epiphany, forced to redefine my own understanding of who and what I am and have become. But for ease of communication, for you, for now, I am Orbelon. I am the Orb and the voice of the Orb. The Orb of Orbia."

   This answer was so extraordinary as to reinforce Issul's belief that she was dreaming. She stared at the strange figure in baffled silence.

   "Do you not know me?"

   Issul shook her head. "Should I?"

   The bundled creature slowly nodded to itself. "Good. Leth heeded my instructions, then."

  
"Leth? You know Leth?"

   Orbelon made a wheezing sound.
"Of course."

   "Do you know where he is?
And my children?"

  
"Your children?" Orbelon raised a tattered hand. " Ah, now I see. They are the cause. Of course. Yes, I know where they are."

  
"Where? Are they safe? Can I see them? The cause of what? Have you harmed them?"

  
"Stop! Stop!" protested Orbelon, twitching his other hand which held the staff. "Always the way with you in the formed world! A babble of questions, never waiting for answers."

   "What have you done with them?" Issul screamed.

   Orbelon recoiled slightly, taken aback. "I? I have done nothing with them. It is quite the contrary."

   "Then where are they?"

   "They are here." Orbelon gestured towards himself, then to the blue casket upon the bedside cabinet. "They are there. They are within."

  
Am I dreaming?
she wondered. "I don’t understand. Within where?"

   Orbelon gave a sigh.
"So hard to explain. Leth has broken the laws that govern my existence. Inadvertently, I suspect. He has introduced new elements and trapped himself within the universe, the world, that I have become. Your children too."

   Issul put her hands to her crown, shaking her head.

   "I’m not making myself plain," said Orbelon. "I apologise, but I, like you, am also endeavouring to understand precisely what has happened."

   Issul stared at him. She had the
impression that were she to approach and touch him she would find her fingers passing through empty space. Yet she did not doubt that he was real and that he stood there before her. And if she dreamed, the dream was also as real and meaningful a part of her existence as anything else. She tried to order her thoughts. "Tell me again, what
are
you?"

   "
I
am Orbelon. I am my world. It is what I have become after long, long ages of solitude. I admit I am rather in a maze. You see, it’s difficult even for me to comprehend, but I find myself obliged to accept that I have become something that I have always denied I could be. You look at me, what do you see? I am ancient and bent, my head is a bundle of rags, I know very little. Yet. . ." he emitted a profound sigh. "I have
created
. . . I have become. . . I have given birth to. . . a fledgeling world. A universe, in fact. What other conclusion can I draw, then? No matter what I have been, no matter what I have always believed,
I must be a god
." He sighed again. "It changes everything."

   Issul caught her breath. "You- you are one of the gods of Enchantment?"

   "Ah," Orbelon seemed to focus on that. "Yes, let us use that as a starting point. Yes, once I was of Enchantment, was one of those beings who you mistakenly term gods. This is a long tale, I warn you. It is one which ordinarily you would never be permitted to hear. But these are far from ordinary circumstances. Hence, if you are willing to listen I am quite willing to divulge."

   Issul nodded, enthralled, incredulous and filled with apprehension. As he had with Leth, Orbelon recounted to her the history and nature of Enchantment, the evolution of its mighty denizens. He told her of his own defeat and dispossession, the severance from his soul and his eons-long imprisonment within the blue casket. "For longer than I know I existed without consciousness of myself. But slowly, infinitely slowly, I became aware, discovered a recollection, a flow of memories of what had gone before and what I had been. And later, much later, I discovered that I had the ability to assume a form - the form you see before you. I began to explore the empty blue world that I had been transformed into. It is a strange concept and I can see that you have difficulty comprehending. But please, for now, just accept what I am saying. We are dealing, you see, with the absolute paradox of being, the mystical, ungraspable ramifications of existence, which defy intellectual comprehension. We
are dealing with a world within a world within a world. It is a world which is both conscious and not. A mind within a mind within a mind. The world is I and I am it, and until now I was unable to enter the formed world which you inhabit. But now I am without. I am here and can no longer enter the world I have spawned, the world that is me and within me. I am excluded, no longer part of it. It has been invaded by your husband and children."

   "Invaded?"

   Orbelon slowly nodded. "I will explain in a moment. But let me continue. You see, for ages beyond counting I was alone, with only memories and the commanding urge to
be
once more to sustain me. But I gradually discovered my world, my universe, my
self
, and I grew aware little by little that there existed another world, another reality, beyond. The formed world, your universe, from which I had been cast. Much later I grew conscious of presences close upon the borders of my existence. I concentrated upon these and in time was able to reach out and speak into the consciousness of one. She was Seruhlin, a founding monarch of Enchantment's Reach. I willed her to my world, and eventually she came. She came into my blue existence. For the first time I learned of the form that I took in your world: the blue casket of Enchantment. I found that I could open and seal the casket at will, to permit one other being to enter. From that point a process was begun which has continued over many generations, involving every ruler since Seruhlin's time."