Aurian

32 The City of the Dragonfolk

Aurian was suspended in the milky light within the gem, inaccessible through the thick crystal that sealed her tomb. She was frozen like a statue in alabaster, the only color about her the brave flame of her hair. Her eyes were closed as though in sleep, her pale lips slightly parted. Anvar saw that much before tears misted his vision. “No!” he howled, the cry dragged up from the raw depths of his despair. He was barely aware of Bohan pulling him away from the crystal, and did not see Shia taking his place at the pane. His knees gave way and he sank to the ground, overcome with anguish.

“Wait!” Shia’s voice flashed into his mind. “She breathes!”

Anvar turned on her. “Don’t be stupid,” he shouted. “She’s dead, damn you! It’s just a trick of the crystal. You saw the others—the bones!”

Shia cuffed him hard, her eyes aflame with rage. “I saw her breathe!” she roared. “Get her out, human!”

Slowly, Anvar picked himself up. “If you’re wrong about this ...”

“Look for yourself. Look long and hard this time. See with your head, not your heart.”

The sight of Aurian’s pale, lifeless, face was a knife through Anvar’s heart, but he steeled himself to look.

A minute passed, and another. He stiffened. Had he imagined it? Another minute. He saw it again, the slightest lift of her breast, almost imperceptible—but definitely there! “Dear Gods,” he whispered. “Shia, you’re right! You’re right!” Wild with joy, he hugged the great cat.

“Of course,” Shia told him smugly. “Cats are wise, Anvar. The other remains were very old—perhaps they starved, or died from their injuries. But, we still have a problem. How do we get her out?”

How indeed? An hour later, Anvar was ready to scream with frustration. They had hacked at the crystal, battered it with the hilts of their_swords, and in Shia’s case, thrown herself on it with teeth and claws. It shrugged off their efforts, remaining unscathed and utterly impervious. Anvar stepped back, panting, and scowled at the unyielding gem. “This is no good,” he said. “It’s absolutely unbreakable—yet the creature has put her inside. It must open somehow. Shia, do you feel magic here?”

The cat had flopped to the ground, despondent. “I feel something,” she said, “but different—not like a spell.” She scraped the smooth stone floor with her claws, searching for the right words. “It feels as though the crystal is magic, but it doesn’t do magic, if you can understand that.”

Anvar couldn’t—and he was afraid to try any of the spells from his limited repertoire lest he trigger something in his ignorance that might harm the Mage within. He ran his hands over the smooth walls of the gem, racking his brains for a way out of their difficulties—and pulled back with an oath as his fingers caught on a sharp edge. “Bohan, did you manage to knock a piece out of this?”

The eunuch shook his head emphatically. Sucking his bleeding fingers, Anvar investigated the place. It was high up around the side of the crystal, but he could see nothing to mar the flawless surface. Then a smear of blood led his eyes to the spot. He felt again, more carefully this time, and found a hollow. A place where a single facet was missing, its absence concealed by the internal reflections of the gem. Anvar frowned. “There’s a perfect piece missing. I wonder . . .” “A key?” Shia was quick to follow his thought. “If it is, we must find it, and quickly. Who knows how long Aurian can stay alive in there?” Anvar froze as a dreadful thought occurred to him. “What if the creature had it?”

“One way to find out. Stop fearing the worst—and search!” Shia was away, quartering the chamber.

It was Bohan who finally found the missing piece, tucked behind the crystal in a niche in the wall. Anvar snatched it from his hand. It was bigger than his fist and pointed at its inner end, its smooth broad facets catching the light along their edges. Holding his breath, he reached up and pushed it into the hollow, turning it to fit. It settled into place with a click—and Anvar stepped hastily back as the gem flared with a dazzling white light that sank slowly away to leave the crystal transparent, all traces of its former milkiness gone. Distorted, broken reflections of Aurian’s body could be seen within—then a crack snaked down the front of the gem. It opened down its length like a hinged shell, unfolding into two hollowed segments with thick walls. Anvar rushed to catch the Mage as she slid out of the space within—and found he had hold of a demon.

The monster—the hideous spider creature—it had hold of her! Aurian struggled wildly in the clutch of the horrid limbs. She fought instinctively, striking out with fists and feet, as Maya had taught her long ago. There was an oddly human-sounding grunt as she connected, and the grip on her body fell away.

“Very nice! He goes to all this trouble to rescue you, and you hit him!”

The voice in her head was reassuringly familiar. “Shia!” Aurian rolled over and looked around dazedly, blinking in the weird red light. She barely had time to recognize Shia and Bohan before Anvar seized her, half lifting her in an embrace that took her breath away.

“Oh Gods, Aurian, it’s so good to see you alive!”

With her head buried in Anvar’s shoulder, the Mage was unable to see his face, but his voice sounded ragged and choked. Aurian tried to answer, but her throat was too parched for speech. Anvar took one arm from around her long enough to rummage in a bundle at his side and come up with a waterskin. He supported her while she drank, rationing her, much to her annoyance, to small sips. She made a grab for the bag as he took it away.

“In a minute.” His voice was firmer now. “You haven’t drunk for about three days. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Days?” Aurian groped in vain to remember. It was hard to read Anvar’s face in the dim red light, but she thought she could see the streak of a tear on his cheek. “Was I ill? Did I dream that awful spider-thing?” She groaned. “I feel as though I’ve been on a three-day drinking bout with Parric.” Her mouth still felt dry, her head was throbbing, her stomach burned, and she had the same unnerving gaps in her memory that were usually the result of too much ale.

“I think you migbi^want this.” Anvar fished her desert robe out of his bundle. Aurian gasped, suddenly conscious of her nudity—and the memories came flooding back of her swim, and what had happened subsequently. Anvar helped her into the robe, and gave her more water and a little flat cake of Nereni’s bread, cradling her in his arms as she ate. She nibbled it slowly, feeling as though she might be sick at any minute, but once it was down it stayed down, and she began to feel better, and ready for more.

As she ate, the Mage pieced together her story. Having been captured by the portal, she had made the same accidental discovery as Anvar—that Magelight triggered the rising of the gemlike conveyance. On reaching the top, however, she had spent a long time trying to find a spell to make it descend, and return her to the others. When her efforts met with no success, she had decided to leave the crystal, hoping to find some other route down. “I got out of it in much the same way as I got in,” she went on. “It sucked me out through its wall—and that was when I met the spider-thing! You’ve no idea what it was like!”

“We do,” Shia assured her grimly. “We met it, too!”

Aurian shuddered. “I couldn’t fight it—did you know it was impervious to magic?”

Anvar shook his head. “I never thought to try.”

“Just as well. It seemed to have the ability to throw the spell right back at the user—I very nearly fried myself before I found that out! Anyway, it grabbed me ...” She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice under control. Anvar hugged her closer, and she gave him a grateful smile. “I was fighting . . . After that, I don’t remember. It only seemed to be a split second before Shia was telling me I’d hit you,” She raised her hand to a lurid bruise on Anvar’s cheekbone. “I hurt you, Anvar. I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t you. That was Harihn.”

“Oh, Anvar, you haven’t been fighting?” Aurian was dismayed.

“Wait until you hear the whole story.” Assisted by Shia, and with the occasional confirmatory nod from Bohan, Anvar told her what had happened. Aurian interrupted with astonished delight when she discovered that he and Shia could speak to one another, and again to heap bloodcurdling curses on Harihn’s head, when she heard how the Prince had abandoned her friends to die. When her rage had calmed enough to let her hear the rest of the tale, she shuddered to hear of their fight with the monster, and Shia’s near loss in the depths of the abyss.

But when Anvar began to describe their crossing of the invisible bridge, it was too much. “No! Don’t tell me! I’d rather not hear about that bit, if you don’t mind,” she apologized.

When Anvar had finished his tale, Aurian looked at the faces of her companions, utterly moved by their courage and loyalty. “My dearest friends, you’ve been so brave ... I don’t know how to thank you . . .” She ran out of words, and brushed away a tear.

“As long as you’re all right,” Anvar told her, “you and the child.”

Aurian looked at him fondly. “We seem to be unscathed, thanks to you three. The question is, what do we do now? We’ve been trapped here by that turd Harihn, If we don’t find something within these tunnels to help us, we’ll starve. Besides, Anvar ...” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Don’t you realize what this place must be? The crystals, the metal creature immune to magic—it all points to one thing. We’ve found the lost civilization of the Dragonfolk! There must be artifacts here —knowledge, weapons, perhaps even the Sword of Fire itself—that we could use against Miathan!”

Anvar shook his head in exasperation. “You never give up, do you? What if we find more of thosjr spider-monsters? What if there’s worse?”

“After my last experience, do you think I’m not worried about spider-things?” Aurian shrugged. “But to be honest, Anvar, I don’t see any alternative. We certainly can’t go back the way we came. The only way out is through these tunnels.”

Though they all longed for sleep, they decided to press on at once. Food was in short supply, and though the passages of the mountain fastness held little hope for their salvation, there was nothing to be gained in lingering. The only other exit from the long chamber was a huge arched doorway at the far end. A wide ramp sloped in a curve up a broad tunnel whose roof, pointed like the archway, was high above. Shia led the way; the Mages, by unspoken cojisent, followed together, Bohan brought up the rear, his sword drawn. Anvar had returned Aurian’s gear to her, and she was relieved to feel the familiar weight of the sword at her hip once more.

The disquieting red light of the chamber had been replaced by a soft amber glow that emanated from a network of shining veins that webbed the smooth, seamless stone of the passageway. The air whispered softly past their faces without moisture or mustiness, and the walls and floor bore little trace of webs or dust. The irritating hum had faded as they climbed. Aurian found herself relaxing a little. She had not realized how much the high-pitched buzz had bothered her, until it was gone. “You know,” she said to Anvar, “this is like a spiral staircase—only there are no steps. I suppose dragons might have had difficulties with stairs. But if this corridor was built to accommodate them, they must have been even bigger than I thought.”

He nodded glumly. “And more powerful than we thought, if they could create this place, and the metal creature. We should be careful.”

It was easy to lose track of time as the unchanging tunnel wound on and on. After a while, rooms began to appear, leading off from either side. To Aurian’s frustration, some were sealed with great doors of metal or crystal that would yield to neither force nor magic. Other rooms were doorless or open, but whether large or small, all were completely empty, their only illumination coming from the dim stoneglow of the passage that shone through the wide entrances, Shia reported no further signs of magic.

“What kind of ridiculous place is this?” Aurian complained, as they explored yet another abandoned chamber. “What’s the use of it all?” She felt leaden with exhaustion, and her headache had returned.

“How the blazes should I know?” Anvar snapped. He sagged against her, grinding his knuckles into bloodshot eyes. The Mage glanced sharply at his slumped form, noticing for the first time that Bohan looked similarly weary. “How long is it since you’ve slept?”

He groaned. “Days—I don’t remember. Not since you disappeared.”

“Anvar!” Aurian scolded. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Taking his arm, she led him to the rear of the small room and sat him down, propped against the wall. “This place is about as defensible as we can get. We’ll rest here.”

They each took a small sip of water from the dwindling contents of their sack, Anvar pouring some into Aurian’s cupped hands for Shia to lap. The Mage insisted on taking the first watch. “I was doing nothing all the time you poor souls were searching for me,” she told them. “It’s only fair.” No one had the energy to argue.

“Wake me next,” Shia told her. “We can share the watching. I need less rest than you feeble two-legged folk.”

Aurian left them asleep and sat to one side of the entrance, her sword ready to her hand. She began to count time by tapping her dagger on the palm of her hand to mark the seconds and switching hands when each minute had passed, but soon gave it up. The counting lulled her, and she found herself beginning to nod. Instead, she thought about her child. It must be about five months now, though it was hard to work out the time exactly—Magewomen were taught to suppress the monthly cycles that were such a bother for Mortals, They usually became aware of their pregnancy after the second month, and Aurian thought that was about right, She had certainly felt the child’s presence once it had been pointed out to her. Not much longer before my powers vanish entirely, she thought, and what will we do then? If we ever escape from here, that is. What could have prompted Harihn to such treachery? Did I really misjudge him so badly?

The Mage wondered what was happening in Nexis, Miathan would use the powers of the Caldron to enslave the Mortals he despised, with Eliseth, Bragar, and Davorshan as willing accomplices. What had become of her friends? Had Vannor and Parric survived? What of Maya and D’arvan, and her mother? While her powers were crippled by the bracelets, she might have been unaware of any deaths among the Magefolk! She shivered, despite the warm air of the chamber, and longed for Portal’s sturdy old cloak, which had been lost in the shipwreck. Its familiar weight on her shoulders had always been a comfort. But cloak and Forral were gone, and she was cold and alone in this dark place,

Aurian, lost in sorrowful thoughts, was startled by a cold black nose poking into her face. “Thought so,” Shia said. “You’re almost asleep. Time I took over!”

The Mage was quick to agree. It would be a relief to escape for a while into oblivion. She crossed the chamber to where her friends slept, and lay down beside Anvar. As always he seemed to sense her presence, and turned to put an arm around her, murmuring her name in his sleep. Aurian snuggled close, and felt her burden lifting. At least I have Shia and Bohan, she thought, and especially Anvar.

The next day, if day it was, they encountered the trap. After a frugal breakfast that left them with slender rations, indeed, they resumed their weary trudge, winding ever upward round the featureless stone spiral with its empty rooms until their feet dragged with exhaustion. Aurian was close to despair. Had she been wrong in her hope of finding the lost knowledge of the Dragonfolk? Did it really matter? We’re doomed to die here, she thought. This bloody mountain will be our tomb, and that will be that.

Suddenly Shia, stalking ahead as usual, stopped. “Magic!” she growled.

“You’re right,” Anvar said. “Aurian, do you see it?”

A few paces in front of them there was a silvery disturbance in the air, like the illusory shimmer above a stone pavement on a hot day. It stretched across the passage like a curtain, barring their way.

Danger or not, Aurian was glad that something had occurred to break the monotony of the trek. She walked forward cautiously, staff in one hand, the other held up before her, palm foremost. As she reached the roiling, silky distortion, two things happened. The shimmer vanished—and all the light in the tunnel went out. Taken by surprise, Aurian took another step forward, striking a ball of Magelight above her head. As it flared, there was a low, thunderous grinding from above, drawing her eyes upward. Her breath caught in her throat as a huge, squared-off block of the ceiling detached itself and came plummeting toward her.

To Aurian, everything happened in nightmare slow motion. The block seemed to float downward as she plunged forward. One foot slipped and she fell, twisting, facing back in the direction from which she had come.

“Aurian!” Anvar was hurling himself forward, diving into the narrowing gap between stone and floor. The massive block plunged inexorably down, smashing Anvar into the floor with a jarring crunch that shuddered the walls.

“Anvar!” Aurian’s shriek tore her throat. Her Magelight went out, plunging her into darkness. Her mind reeled with hideous, unbearable visions . . . Anvar, pulverized beneath tons of stone . . . She collapsed against the wall, retching, choking on sobs—

And leapt about a yard into the air as a hand touched her shoulder.

“It’s me!” Anvar’s strangled voice was almost lost in her squeak of fright.

“You! You can’t ... I saw . . .” Aurian found it impossible to get the words past her chattering teeth.

Anvar, it seemed, was having similar difficulties as they clung together, shaking. “Illusion,” he gasped.

Illusion? Illusion! Aurian’s Magelight rekindled, flaring fiery red as anger boiled up within her. She drew back, staring at Anvar’s ashen face. “You fool! You bloody idiot! I thought you were dead, damn you! How could you do such a stupid thing!” she stormed. Tears of shock and rage ran down her face and she dashed them angrily away.

Anvar grabbed her shoulders. “Because I’m not prepared to lose you again! I’d rather die, don’t you understand?” he yelled, his fingers digging hard into her flesh.

Oh. Aurian felt her anger draining away. She understood— she had felt the same way about Forral, She shook her head, unwilling to accept the implications. “Anvar . . .”

He looked away from her, biting his lip. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“If you two have quite finished!” Shia’s mental voice was a welcome distraction, but Aurian could tell from the steely tone that the cat too was angry at the scare they had given her. She was nowhere in sight; still hidden, presumably, behind the illusory block of stone. “How you expect anyone to get their thoughts through such a turmoil as you have been throwing up, I have no idea!” Shia went on irritably, “But since you’ve finally deigned to listen to me, have you anything constructive to suggest?”

Suddenly Aurian found herself giggling helplessly. That started Anvar off too, and they laughed together until their ribs ached and they were wheezing for breath. The little ball of Magelight, bright gold now, flickered and bobbed above Aurian’s head as though it too were chuckling.

“WELL?” The thunder of Shia’s voice finally sobere them.

“Sorry, Shia.” Aurian grinned at Anvar, speaking her thoughts aloud for Bohan’s benefit. “I suggest you walk straight through. The block is an illusion—as Anvar so conclusively proved!” She gave him a mock-fierce scowl.

Stunned silence from Shia, then: “Could I only curse, like you humans!” Though the words came from her mind, they sounded as if they were spoken through clenched teeth. “We’re coming through!”

“No, wait!” Aurian’s cry was drowned in a grating rumble from overhead. There was an anguished howl—and Bohan came hurtling through the wall of stone, Shia a black projectile at his heels. There was a deafening crash, and the Mages clutched each other as the floor of the tunnel bucked and heaved beneath them. Clouds of dust billowed up, and tiny fragments of stone stung their skin.

As the dust began to settle, Aurian was relieved to see Bohan and Shia, safe. Coughing, she stretched out a hand to the block—and touched solid stone.

“It really fell this time!” Anvar sounded shaken.

“I think I understand,” Aurian murmured thoughtfully. “It’s a time trap, Anvar. What we saw, what we thought had hit you—” She groped for words. “It wasn’t an illusion. What we were seeing was the future.”

“But why? Surely if it was a trap, it might as well have fallen in the first place?”

“I’m not sure.” Aurian frowned. “Presumably, the Dragons would recognize their own magic, so it would act as a warning to them that the trap was there, and they should get through quickly. But any strange Magefolk, like us, who came blundering in—Well, if I hadn’t taken that extra step forward, I would have seen the thing falling and stepped back.”

“And we would have eventually discovered the illusion,” Anvar finished for her, “gone through, and—”

“It would have got us anyway. What a bloody devious people!” She was annoyed—and more than a little unnerved. “What kind of power must they have had, to play tricks like that with time?”

Aurian turned to the others, and was surprised to see the much rubbing his buttocks with one hand, and shaking an igry fist at Shia with the other.

“Are you two all right? Bohan, what’s wrong?”

Shia’s voice was loaded with disgust. “This lumbering ox wasn’t moving fast enough—so I stuck my claws in his backside!”

A strangled squawk from Anvar proved that he too had heard the cat’s words. Aurian found herself spluttering helplessly. Bohan’s indignant expression and Shia’s angry glare only made them worse. The Mages leaned against each other, helpless with laughter.

“But how did you know the stone was really falling this time?” Aurian asked Shia, when she had finally got her paroxysms under control. Now that they could both speak to her, the Mages had fallen into the habit of voicing their thoughts aloud. It made things much easier.

Shia sat, primly licking a paw, though her twitching tail betrayed that she too had been shaken by their near miss. “I didn’t. But cats never take chances!”

“Really, smart-paws?” Anvar retorted. “What about when you nearly went over the cliff, fighting that spider-thing?”

Shia glared at him. “That was different!”

“Oh?”

“Something has occurred to me.” Aurian interrupted the impending fight. “That awful howl we heard as you came through—was that you, Bohan?”

The big man looked perplexed.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” Shia declared.

“But that means you can speak!”

Bohan opened his mouth, but nothing emerged. Aurian could see his face growing redder and redder with the exertion, and went to him quickly. “Don’t, Bohan. You’ll hurt yourself. Obviously the problem isn’t physical, but I’m too weary to try mind-Healing just now. I promise you, though, if we get out of this place, I’ll help you find your voice.” He smiled at her, but the longing, the hope in his eyes wrung Aurian’s heart. She patted his hand gently. “Let’s rest now. I think we all need some time to recover before we go on.”

This time, folly though it might have proved, no one even thought to suggest keeping watch. Careless in their weariness, unstrung by the shocks of the past hour, they slept like the dead, huddled close for comfort like lost children. When Bohan finally awakened Aurian, light had returned to the passageway, and the stone had lifted to open the tunnel behind them. The trap had been set once more.

They swallowed the meager remnants of their food and water, but their last meal was marred by a sense of unease. Had the stone reset itself? Or, horrifying thought, had someone—or some thing—crept up while they slept to renew the spell?

“Nonsense,” Aurian argued. “If anyone had been here they’d have let us know about it, you can be sure!” Nonetheless, there was a crawling between her shoulder blades that no amount of common sense could shake off, and looking at the others’ faces, she knew they felt the same.

As they went on, the tunnel began to straighten, its gradient growing steeper as they climbed. There were no more rooms now, and soon the very light began to change, as gradually the glowing amber veins in the stone were replaced by a constellation of many-colored gems that shone, like those in the desert below, with their own mysterious gleam. Soon the way was illuminated only by the flickering gemlight that surrounded them on all sides, as though they trod the starry paths of the Universe itself. “How beautiful it is,” Aurian murmured. “I’m glad we got the chance to see this, even if—”

“Even if we die for the experience?” They were almost the first words that Anvar had spoken since they had awakened. After his outburst the previous day, a constraint had fallti between the Mages, as if both were anxious to avoid what hi^ words had revealed.

Aurian was suddenly sick of it all. Nothing’s changed, sht told herself. It’s still Anvar. Words said in the heat of the moment—what real difference does it make? If we die, it won’t matter anyway, and if we don’t—well, it’ll keep, and in the meantime there’s no sense in ruining a good friendship over it. She took his hand. “Don’t despair,” she told him. “Think of all the times we’ve almost perished since we left Nexis, yet we never did. Something will turn up, you’ll see. We’re too tough a team to kill, you and I.”

Anvar squeezed her hand and met her eyes at last, suddenly looking more cheerful. “You’re right,” he said, “and we’ll go through a lot more together, before we’re done!”

“Light! Light ahead!” They turned simultaneously toward Shia’s cry.

Daylight! It filtered wanly past a sharp angle in the tunnel, dimming the star-glitter of the gems. Shia had stopped, bristling, before the bend. “There’s magic ahead,” she warned, halting their headlong rush.

Aurian took a step forward, but Anvar, who had not relinquished her hand even as they ran, pulled her back toward him, “Oh, no you don’t,” he growled. “This time we go together!”

They crept forward, peering anxiously round the corner of the passage. “Chathak’s bloody balls!” Aurian swore. The tunnel ahead of them was blocked by a large gem, resembling the impervious doorways that had defeated them lower down. The daylight twinkled through its polished facets—so near, yet, unless they could find a way to pass the obstacle, it might have been a million miles away.

“That noise is back,” Anvar said suddenly. “Do you hear it?”

Sure enough, the irritating, high-pitched hum was tickling the base of Aurian’s jawbone. “What is that?” she demanded crossly, fighting back an urge to burst into tears of sheer frustration.

“I think it’s coming from the other side. Shia! Get yourself round here!”

“I hear you.” The great cat slunk round the corner with a black look for Anvar. “There’s no need to shout!”

“Sorry. Gin you tell whether the magic is coming from the stone itself, or is there another trap in front of us?”

“I don’t think so. It’s in the crystal itself.”

“Right.” Anvar pressed forward, but Aurian caught his arm.

“Hold on there,” she told him. “You made the rules, remember? Together, or not at all!”

Together they examined the crystal, running their hands over the smooth, hard surface. “Just the same as the others,” Anvar said despondently. “Unlike the one that imprisoned you, there’s no key to these door crystals. It’s a dead end.”

“It can’t be!” Aurian aimed a savage kick at the obstruction, howling a curse as the toe of her boot hit the unyielding gem. “That does it!” In unthinking rage she raised her staff, unleashing a sizzling bolt at the crystal.

“Aurian, no!” Anvar, shielding his eyes, was thrown back hard against the side of the passage. Smoke curled through the corridor as the gem began to hiss and pulse with light.

“Stop!” Dimly, Aurian heard Shia’s urgent cry. “You’re making it worse! The magic of the stone is growing!”

To her horror, the Mage realized that it was true. The gem was acting as the bracelets had done, leeching her powers into it to increase its own. The staff trembled in her outstretched hand as energy surged through her body and along her arm, bleeding and weakening her further by the second. No longer was she putting forth her power—the stone was pulling it from her! Her guts twisted in panic. “Help me,” she cried. “I can’t stop it!”

Something hard cannoned into her, knocking her breathless to the ground. The staff was wrenched from her hand in a shower of sparks, breaking the deadly bond of magic. Aurian, gasping like a stranded fish, saw Bohan, fallen half on top of her, drop the smoking staff with a grimace of pain. The glare from the crystal dimmed, and the smoke began to clear.

“You and your blasTtd temper, Aurian!” Anvar was examining Bohan’s hand.

“I know. I’m sorry, Anvar. It was a stupid thing to do. Is Bohan all right?”

“More or less.” The eunuch echoed his words with a nod.

Anvar held out his hand to help her up. “Aurian, we have to stop scaring each other like this!”

“It’s a bargain!” Aurian scrambled to her feet, turning back to the crystal. “All the same, I have an idea . . .” She remembered the bracelets sapping her power as she tried to help Anvar in the slave compound.

“Be careful!” Anvar said hastily.

“I will. I’ve learned my lesson. No daft fireworks this time, I promise.” She pressed her hands, then the side of her face, flat against the crystal, probing its interior with her Healer’s senses, feeling for the delicate lattice that was the framework and life of the stone. Since her powers had been sapped by her rash act, it took her a long time to find the weakness, the chink in its defenses, that she sought. But it was there. At last, it was there! Aurian probed with her will—and pulled . . .

Ah, now the tables were turned! The Mage felt her palms tingling as power flooded back through the fault in the gem. She drew upon the stone’s energy until she felt ready to burst, unable to contain so much magic. Aurian began to wonder if she had overestimated her ability to handle the power woven into the structure of the stone. Again she felt the chill clutch of fear. If only she had taught this to Anvar, so that he could have helped her! If only she had some way to store the surplus power! But . . .

“Get back round the corner!” she yelled, straining to contain the force until they were safely away. “Cover your eyes!” Flinging out a hand, the Mage hurled a mighty flare of energy at the wall, shielding herself quickly as she did so. It exploded as it hit, the concussion impacting violently back against her shield, but her defenses held. And as for the crystal—her job was done. Without the energy that held it together, the gem collapsed with a slithering whisper into a heap of fine powder at her feet. Aurian let out her breath in a huge sigh of relief.

Anvar appeared round the corner, looking pale. “I thought we agreed not to frighten each other anymore?” He spoke quietly, but there was a glint of anger in his eyes.

“Anvar, I’m sorry. I never thought ... I didn’t realize that so much energy would be involved.” She brightened. “But it worked, didn’t it? And no harm done in the end.”

“No harm?” Shia spat. “What about the harm to my nerves?”

Anvar sighed. “I have to admit—it worked. But if you ever do anything like that again ...”

“All right,” Aurian agreed. “I won’t. I’ll teach you instead, and the next time, you can do it!”

Together they scrambled over the pile of fine crystal dust and peered through the opening that Aurian had created. The Mage’s heart sank. “By all the Gods—if this isn’t the absolute end! After all that, it doesn’t even lead outside.” Throwing her staff to the ground, she sat down on the mound of dust, her head in her hands.

“Aurian, look at this!” Anvar sounded excited. “You look at it. I’ve seen enough of this accursed place!” “Don’t be silly.” He yanked her firmly to her feet. With a groan, Aurian picked up her staff and followed him—and stepped back quickly with a sharp oath as she saw the drop that yawned beneath her feet. They stood inside a tower—a circular chamber that stretched up and up, deceiving the eye. The walls were seamless, formed of translucent white stone and pierced in a spiral all the way up by circular windows of crystal that cast sword-thin shafts of daylight down to the floor—except that there was no floor. They stood on a ribbon of stone that clung to the walls of the tower, spiraling up into the limitless heights above. Below them was a sparkling shaft, lit by the focused beams from the windows, and at eye level, suspended seemingly on thin air above the drop, a great spherical crystal spun and scintillated, filling the air with the unnerving, penetrating hum that they had heard in the corridor, and in the red-lit chamber, far below.

Anvar lay on his stomach, hanging over the edge of the shaft in a way that made Aurian’s stomach flip over. “This is amazing! Do you want to bet that it goes right down into that chasm we crossed?”

Aurian groaned. “Anvar, come away from there!” “Yes, do,” Shia added, sounding far from happy. “This place is crawling with magic!”

Anvar ignored them both. “Of course it is. Don’t you see, this is some kind of magical pump. That’s why the air was so fresh on the lower levels—this makes it circulate!”

“Very clever, Anvar.” Aurian did her best, but failed to keep the despair from her voice. “It is also, you may have noticed, a dead end. We’ll have to go back down.”

Anvar scrambled up from the brink. “I don’t think so. The path—” he indicated the strip of stone on which they stood “—this dragon stairway, if you like—still goes upward. I think there’ll be a way out at the top!”

Aurian looked up at the path, which curved away ever higher from where they stood, and down again, at the bottomless shaft. She swallowed hard and looked at Anvar. “I thought we weren’t going to frighten each other anymore?” He grinned. “You already broke that promise.” “This isn’t funny!”

“I know. But it’s our only way out. Look, it isn’t all that narrow. It was built for dragons, you know. Come on, Aurian. I’ll hold your hand. You must do it.”

“All right.” Aurian sighed. “But Anvar, if we get all the way to the top and there’s no way out, you’re going straight down that shaft headfirst!”

Afterward, Aurian preferred not to recall that climb. It seemed to go on forever as she sidled up the sloping ramp, Shia and Bohan following her, her back pressed hard against the tower wall. They climbed until their legs were trembling with weariness, but the Mage refused to halt. “No,” she pleaded. “Just get it over with.” But in the end, it was clear that in their famished and exhausted state, they would never make it to the top without resting. Aurian sat huddled as far away from the edge as she could, her eyes tightly closed. After a time they went on, their muscles cramped and their heads swimming, until even Aurian had forgotten the drop beneath in her preoccupation with her aching limbs. It was with a sense of disbelief that she finally saw the archway above her. She staggered into the blessed daylight, and . . ,

“Be careful!” Anvar grabbed her arm, yanking her back against the side of the doorway. Aurian, reeling, fell to the ground. “Anvar,” she gasped, “I hate you. I absolutely hate you.”

She was awakened by a gentle hand shaking her shoulder. Anvar’s face was close to her own. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I let you sleep as long as I dared, but we must get moving while there’s still daylight. Do you still hate me?”

Aurian groaned, aching all over. “That depends. Did I really see what I think I saw?” “I’m afraid so.”

“In that case, yes.” Moving very carefully, she peered over the edge of the platform that topped the tower. The sky—ah, how good it was to see the sky and the sun again after their nighttime journey through the desert and the long days passed in the gloomy halls hengath the mountain. And despite her fear, the view was staggering. The tower stood at one end of an oval plain that stretched about a league—a crater scooped into the top of the mountain. The jagged walls of the peak were higher than the roof on which she perched, and shielded the vale below from the worst of the desert’s blinding glare. And in the vale ... a gleaming city. Aurian caught her breath. It could only be the lost city of the Dragonfolk.

It was arranged, not in lines and angles like a human city, but in a series of interlapping circles joined like a spider’s web, all converging on a massive, conical structure like a great spire that was higher even than the tower. The sun struck fire from its pointed tip—and not surprisingly, for the edifice had been carved from a single, massive green gem. When Aurian had finished gaping, she discovered that all the buildings in the city were similarly constructed, each from a colored jewel that blazed with coruscating light. Most were rounded and single-storied with broad, flat roofs where, the Mage supposed, the Dragonfolk would have basked, absorbing the sun that was their lifeblood. There were several towers, domes, and minarets, all intricately carved and chased, but the highest buildings were the tower from which she looked and the huge spire in the center,

Anvar, it seemed, had seen the view while she slept, and was ready to be practical. “I’ve seen a lot of birds down there. I suppose this is their resting place when they cross the desert. If we can find a way to trap them, we’ll have food. And there must be water down there , . , Surely even the Dragonfolk would need that?”

“So we go down.” Aurian had already noticed the spiral path, a twin to the one on the inside of the tower, that wound down—and down and down—to the city below. “Damn and blast them!” She struck the stone with an impotent fist, and burst into tears. “Why couldn’t they have put railings on these bloody stairways?”

“I’m sorry, love.” Anvar stroked her hair. “But—”

“I know, I know.” Aurian sat up and sniffed, scrubbing at her face with the sleeve of her robe—and caught Anvar’s eye, remembering an occasion long ago when he had chided her for doing just that. “Take no notice of me, Anvar. I’m being an ass.

Lead on, then—since you seem to be in charge where high places are concerned!”

It was far worse going down. The path seemed to tilt crazily beneath Aurian’s feet, and there was nothing below her but thin air. The others were having similar difficulties, and the sun had long since dropped behind the high mountain walls when they neared the bottom. With the path shrouded in gloom and their attention fixed upon their feet, they barely noticed the shadow that plunged across them. Anvar, in the lead, turned to Aurian. “What about some li—” His face froze in horror. The Mage had no time to look behind her. Something struck her hard, wrenching her from the path. Wiry arms grasped at her—she caught a glint of steel. She was falling, falling . . .