Lord of Lies

Chapter 1

A man's fate, the scryers say, is written in the stars. Beneath these fiery points of light, we come forth from our mother earth to live and gaze up at the sky in wonder, to dance and dream and die. Some are born to be tillers of the soil or huntsmen; others to be weavers or minstrels or kings. Murderers might find the bright Dragon constellation pulling at their souls while saints seek in the Seven Sisters for the source of their goodness. A few turn away from the heavens altogether and look to the fire of their own hearts to forge their fate. But I believe that there is one — and one only — who is chosen to bear the golden cup that the angels sent to earth long ago. Even as a sword is made for the hard grip of a warrior, only the Shining One was meant to take the Lightstone in his hands and bring forth its secret light for all to behold.

Others, however, believe other things. In the year 2813 of the Age of the Dragon, the Lightstone having been wrested from the hall of Morjin the Liar, the Great Red Dragon himself, word that the quest to find the Cup of Heaven had been fulfilled spread like a wildfire to each of Ea's lands. In far-off Hesperu, the slaves in the fields gripped their hoes in bitterness and prayed that some hero might wield the Lightstone to free them from their bondage; in conquered Surrapam, starving youths took up their bows and dreamed of hunting the true gold instead of meat. The priests of Morjin's Kallimun wove their plots to regain the Lightstone while minstrels from fallen Galda and Yarkona made their way across burning plains to sing its wonders and hear new songs. Even the kings of realms still free — great men such as King Kiritan Narmada and King Waray of Taron — sent out emissaries to demand that the Lightstone be brought to them. From north and south, east and west, they joined a whole army of lordless knights, exiles, scryers, seekers and rogues who journeyed to Mesh. To the castle of my father, Shavashar Elahad, they came to view the wonder of the Lightstone. For there, behind the castle's white granite wall ray friends and I had brought it to be guarded against the world's evil and greed.

On a warm Sunday afternoon in late spring, with the cherry trees in the foothills in full bloom, I joined Master Juwain Zadoran and Sar Maram Marshayk allhe top of the castle's great Adarni tower. It was our first gathering in nearly half a year — and our first in Master Juwain's guest chamber since we had set out on the great Quest half a year before that. Master Juwain had recently returned from Taron in great haste, and had called this meeting to discuss matters pertaining to the Lightstone — and other things.

The room in which he resided when visiting my father's castle was large and well-lit. Four arched windows looked out upon the white-capped peaks of Arakel and Telshar and the other mountains to the west. Four more windows gave a good view of the rest of the castle below us: the round and graceful Swan Tower and the Tower of the Stars; the courtyards full of wagons and knights on panting horses arriving for the evening's feast; the great shield wall cut with crenels along its top like a giant's teeth. Largest of all the castle's structures was the massive keep, a huge cube of granite, and the adjoining great hall where the Lightstone was displayed for all to see. I might rather that it had been brought into the fastness of Master Juwain's chamber, with its comforts of thick Galdan carpets, bright tapestries and many cases full of books, but I reminded myself that the golden cup was not meant to be kept in private by Master Juwain or Maram — or even me.

As I dosed the door behind me and crossed the chamber's tiled floor, Master Juwain of the Great White Brotherhood called out to me with a disquieting formality: 'Greetings, Lord Valashu Elahad, Knight of the Swan, Guardian of the Lightstone, Prince of Mesh.'

He stood with my best friend, Maram, by the chamber's west windows, looking at me strangely as if trying to peer beneath the mantle of these newly-won titles to apprehend a deeper thing inside me. His silver-gray eyes, large and luminous as moons, were full of wisdom and his great regard for me. Although some called him an ugly man, with his brown, squashlike nose and head as bald and lumpy as walnut, the light of kindness seemed to burn through these surface features and show only a being of great beauty.

'Sir,' I called back to him. I had addressed him thus for ten years, since the day that I had begun my studies at the age of eleven at the Brotherhood's sanctuary in the mountains nearby. Although that happier time had long passed and we had been companions on the great Quest, he was still a Master Healer and Ea's greatest scholar, and he deserved no less. 'It's good to see you!'

I rushed forward to embrace him. Despite being well into his middle years, his short, stocky body was still hard from the various disciplines to which he subjected it. A long, brown tunic of homespun wool covered him from neck to knee. From a chain, over his heart, dangled a gold medallion showing a sunburst and plain cup in relief. Seven rays streaked out of this cup to fall upon the medallion's rim. King Kiritan had bestowed such gifts upon all who had vowed to make the quest to find the Lightstone. Maram and I wore our medallions as did Master Juwain: in bittersweet memory and pride.

'It's good to see you, Val,' Master Juwain said, smiling at me. 'Thank you for coming.' Maram, dressed in a bright scarlet tunic emblazoned with two gold lions facing each other, did not like being left out of the greetings. He stepped up to me and threw his arms around me, a feat made diffi cult by his big, hard belly, which pushed out ahead of him like a boulder. He was a big man with a great, blazing heart of fire, and he drummed his hamlike hands against my back with such force that they threatened to stave-in my ribs.

'Val, my brother,' he said in his booming voice. When he had finished pummeling me, we stood apart regarding each other. We were true brothers, I thought, and yet our lineages were as different as the river country of gentler climes and the highlands of Mesh. We were different, too. Although he was tall, for an outlander, I looked down upon him. He had his people's curly chestnut hair, while mine was that of my father and mother: long, straight and black, more like a horse's mane than the hair that covered the heads of most human beings. His face was of mounds of earth and rounded knolls, soft, pliable as red river clay; mine was all clefts and crags, cut as with walls of rock: too stark, too hard. He had a big, bear's nose while mine was that of an eagle. And where his eyes were brown and sweet like alfalfa honey, my eyes, it was said, were black and bright as the nighttime sky above the winter mountains.

'Ah, Val,' he said, 'it's good to see you again, too.' I smiled because we had taken breakfast together that very morning. Although Maram had been born a prince of Delu, he had resided in my father's kingdom for half a dozen years. Once a novice of the Brotherhood under Master Juwain, he had renounced his vows and was now a sort of permanent guest in the castle. I looked at the jeweled rings on the fingers of his left hand and the single silver ring encir cling the second finger of his right hand. It was set with two large diamonds: the ring of a Valari knight. Thus my father had honoured him upon the fulfillment of the quest, declaring that Maram, in spirit at least, now belonged to my people.

Master Juwain invited us to sit at his tea table, inlaid with mother of pearl and precious woods, and years ago imported from Galda at great cost. He bent over one of the chamber's fireplaces and retrieved a black iron pot. After heaping some green leaves into it, he brought it to the table and set it down on a square tile, along with three blue cups.

'Ah, I think I'd rather have a bit of beer,' Maram said, eyeing his empty cup. 'I don't suppose — '

'I'm afraid it's time for tea, Brother Maram,' Master Juwain said. He at least, remained true to his vows to renounce wine, women and war. 'We've need for clear heads today — and tonight.'

Maram regarded the tea pot as he sat pulling at his thick, curly beard. I looked at Master Juwain and said, 'What is troubling you, sir? It's said that you nearly killed your horse returning from Taron.'

'My poor horse,' Master Juwain murmured, shaking his head. 'But I had heard that King Kiritan's emissaries were on the road toward Mesh, and I wanted to be here when they arrived. Have they?'

'Only an hour after yourself,' I told him. 'Count Dario Narmada and a small army of knights. It will be hard to find rooms for so many.'

'And the emissaries from Sakai? I had heard that the Red Dragon has sent seven of his priests to treat with your father.'

'That is true,' I said. 'They've remained sequestered in their chamber since their arrival three days ago.'

I listened to the distant echoes and sounds that seemed to emanate from the stone walls around me. A wrongness pervaded the castle, like a child's scream, and a sense of dread clawed at my insides. I thought of the five Kallimun priests and the cowled yellow robes that hid their faces; I prayed that none of them had been among the priests that had tortured my friends in Morjin's throne room in Argattha.

'They should never have been allowed into Mesh,' Master Juwain said. He touched the enlarged opening of his ear that one of Morjin's priests had torn with a heated iron. 'That's almost as dangerous as allowing the Red Dragon's poisonous dreams into our minds.'

'Dangerous, yes,' I agreed. 'But my father wishes to hear what they have to say. And he wishes it to be known that all are welcome in Mesh to view the Lightstone.'

I looked out the east windows where the city of Silvassu was spread out beneath the castle. It was a small city, whose winding streets and sturdy stone houses gave way after about a mile to the farmland and forest of the Valley of the Swans. And every inn and stable, I thought, was full with pilgrims who hoped to stand before the Lightstone. Even the fields at Silvassu's edge were dotted with the brightly colored pavil ions of nobles and knights who could not find rooms in the castle, and who disdained sleeping in a common inn with exiles, adventurers, soothsayers and all the others who had flocked to Mesh.

'We can guess what the Red Priests will say: lies and more lies,' Master Juwain told us. 'But what of King Kiritan's emissaries? Could he have agreed to the conclave?'

My father, King Shamesh, upon the deliverance of the Lightstone to Mesh, had sent emissaries of his own to Alonia and Delu, to the Elyssu and Thalu at the edge of the world. And to Eanna and Nedu, too, and of course, to the Nine Kingdoms of the Valari: to all of Ea's Free Kingdoms my father had sent a call for a conclave to be held in Mesh, that an alliance might be made to oppose Morjin and his rampaging armies.

'Ah, now that the Lightstone has been found,' Maram said, 'King Kiritan will have to agree to the conclave. And everyone else will follow Alonia's lead — won't they, Val?'

In truth, it had been I who had asked my father to call the conclave. For it had been I — and my friends — who had seen with our own eyes the great evil that Morjin was working upon the world.

'The Valari kings,' I said, 'will never follow the lead of an outland king, not even Kiritan. We'll have to find other means of persuading them.'

'Indeed, but persuading them toward what end?' Master Juwain asked. 'Merely meeting in conclave? Making an alliance? Or making war?'

This word, dreadful and dark, stabbed into my heart like the long sword I wore at my side. It was as heavy and burdensome as the steel rings of the mail that encased my limbs and pulled me down toward the earth. Once, in my father's castle, in my home, I had dressed otherwise, in simple tunics or even in my hunting greens. But now that I was Lord Guardian of the Lightstone, I went about armored at all times — especially with the Red Dragon's priests waiting to get close to a small golden cup.

'If we make an alliance,' I told Master Juwain, 'then perhaps we won't have to make war.'

It was my deepest dream, I told myself, to end war — forever.

'An alliance,' Master Juwain said, shaking his head. 'I'm afraid that the Red Dragon will never be defeated this way.'

'It is not necessary to defeat him,' I said. 'At least not outright, in battle. It will be enough if we secure the Free Kingdoms. Then, with the Brotherhoods working at the Dragon Kingdoms from within, and the Alliance doing the same from without the realms Morjin has conquered can be won back one by one.'

'I see how your thinking has progressed since I went away.'

'It is not just my thinking, sir. It's that of my father and brothers.'

'But what of the Lightstone, then?'

'It is the Lightstone,' said, 'that makes all this possible.'

'But what of the one for whom the Lightstone was meant? Have you given thought, as I've asked, to this Shining One?'

Master Juwain poured our tea then. Through the steaming liquid, I watched the little bits of leaves swirl about and then settle into my cup.

'There's been thought of little else,' I told him. 'But the Free Kingdoms should be strengthened so that the Shining One can come forth without fear. Then Morjin will have much to fear.'

'Indeed, he would,' Master Juwain said. 'But will the Red Dragon be content while you make alliance against him? Your way, I'm afraid, is that of the sword.'

'Perhaps,' I said, letting my hand rest on the seven diamonds set into the swan-carved hilt of my sword.

'We've all seen enough evil for one lifetime, Val.'

I drew my sword then, and held it so that it caught the sunlight streaming in through the western window. Its long blade, wrought of silustria, shimmered like a silver mirror. Its edges were keen enough to cut steel even as the power of the silustria cut through darkness and gave me to see, sometimes, the truth of things. The sword's maker had named it Alkaladur. In all the history of Ea, no greater work of gelstei had ever been accomplished, and none more beautiful.

'This sword,' I said to Master Juwain, 'is not evil.'

'No, perhaps not. But it can do evil things.'

Maram took a sip of his tea and grimaced at its bitterness. Then he said, 'There can't be enough evil for Morjin and all his kind.'

'Do not speak so,' Master Juwain said, holding up his hand. 'Please, Brother Maram, I ask you to — '

'Sar Maram, I'm called now,' Maram said, patting the sword that he wore sheathed at his side. It was a Valari kalama, like unto length and symmetry as my sword, only forged of the finest Godhran steel.

'Sar Maram, then,' Master Juwain murmured, bowing his bald head, 'You mustn't wish evil upon anyone — not even the Red Dragon himself.'

'You say that? After he blinded Atara with his own hands? After what he did to you?'

'I have another ear,' Master Juwain told him, tapping his large, knotty finger against the side of head. 'And if I could, I'd wish to hear no talk of revenge.'

'And that,' Maram said, 'is why you're a master of the Brotherhood and I am, ah, what I am. Evil deserves evil, I say. Evil should be opposed by any means.'

'By any means virtuous.'

'But surely virtue is to be seen in the end to be accomplished. And what could be a greater good than the end of Morjin?'

'The Red Dragon, I'm afraid, would agree with the first part of your argument. And that is why, Brother Maram, I must tell you that — ' 'Please, sir, call me Maram.'

'All right,' Master Juwain said with a troubled smile. Then he looked deep into Maram's eyes and said, 'To use evil, even in the battle against evil, is to become utterly consumed by it.'

I held my sword pointing north toward the castle's great hall where the Lightstone was kept. Alkaladur's silver gelstei flared white in reso nance with the greater gold gelstei of which the cup was wrought. Its bright light drove back the hate that threatened to annihilate me when ever I thought of Morjin and how he had torn out the eyes of the woman I loved.

'It is … not evil to guard the Lightstone for the Maitreya,' I forced out, speaking the ancient name for the Shining One. In Ardik, Maitreya meant Lord of Light. 'Can we not agree that this is our best means of fighting Morjin?'

I sheathed my sword and took a sip of tea. It was indeed bitter, but it cleared my head and cooled the wrath poisoning my heart.

'Very well,' Master Juwain said, 'but I'm afraid we've little time for making alliances or battles. We must find the Maitreya before Morjin does. We must seek him out in whatever land has given him birth.'

At this, Maram took another sip of tea and smiled to try to hide the dread building inside him. 'Ah, sir, it almost sounds as if you're proposing another quest to find this Maitreya. Please tell me that you're thinking of no such thing?'

'A moment ago,' Master Juwain reminded him, 'you were ready to oppose Morjin in any way you could.'

'I? I? No, no — you misunderstand me,' Maram said. 'I have already done my part in fighting Morjin. More than my part. We all have.'

I said nothing as I took a long sip of tea and gazed into Maram's eyes.

'Don't look at me that way, Val!' he said. He drained his cup in a sudden gulp, and banged it down upon the table. Then he stood up and began pacing about the room. 'I don't have your courage and devotion to truth. Ah, your faith in these great dreams of yours. I am just a man. And a rather delicate one at that I've been bludgeoned by one of Morjin's assassins, and nearly eaten by bears. And in the Vardaloon, I was eaten by every mosquito, leech and verminous thing in that accursed forest. I've been frozen, burnt, starved and nearly drained of blood. And the Stonefaces, ah, I don't even want to speak of them! I've been shot with arrows. '

Here he paused to rub his fat rump, each half of which had been transfixed by a feathered shaft during the siege of Khaisham. To this day, he claimed, it pained him to sit on top of a horse — or on chairs.

'Isn't all this enough?' he asked us. 'No, no, my friends, if there's another quest to be made, let someone else make it.'

I felt the ache in my side where one of Morjin's assassins had run me through with a sword. In my veins stilled burned, and always would burn, the kirax poison that he had fired into me with an evil arrow shot out of the darkness of the woods. 'We've all suffered, Maram,' I said softly. 'No one should ask that you suffer more.'

'Ah, but you ask when you speak to me like that. When you look at me with those damn Valari eyes of yours.'

'My apologies,' I said, glancing down at the floor.

'I just want to drink a little beer and write a few poems for Behira — what's wrong with that?'

In truth, Maram liked to consume much more than a 'little' beer. Ever since we had returned to Mesh with the Lightstone, he had devoted his considerable passions toward savoring life. My brother, Asaru, often accused him of sloth, but he really worked very hard in his pursuit of pleasure, filling up each day of the week. Sunday nights, for instance, were for drinking, and sacred Oneday brought more beer and brandy. Moonday was equally holy, and Arday was needed to recover from so much holiness. Then came Eaday, which he reserved for walks in the mountains and rides through the forest — usually with his betrothed, Behira, or another beautiful young woman — so that he could worship the glories of the earth. Valday nights were for singing and stargazing in similar company, while on Asturday he wrote love poems, and on Sunday he-rested yet again in preparation for the evening's drinkfest.

I smiled at Maram's peccadilloes, and so did Master Juwain, with curiosity as much as concern. Then he asked Maram, 'And what of Behira, then? Have you set a date for the wedding?'

'Ah, I've set at least three dates.'

He explained that he had kept postponing the wedding, offering one excuse or another. Most recently, he had argued that he and Behira should have news of the conclave before deciding anything so private and permanent as a wedding.

'I did not think Lord Harsha,' Master Juwain said, 'could be put off so easily in matters concerning his daughter's happiness.'

'Did I say there was anything easy about ail this? You should have seen Lord Harsha's face when 1 told him I couldn't possibly make vows in Ashte because the auguries were unfavorable.'

Master Juwain pushed back his chair, stood and went over to Maram. He rested his hand on his arm and asked, 'What's wrong? I thought you loved Behira?'

'Ah, I do love her — I'm certain I do. More than I've ever loved any woman. In fact, I'm nearly certain that she's the one I've been seeking all my life. It's just that…'

His voice trailed off as he reached into a deep pocket of his tunic and removed a red crystal nearly a foot in length. It was six-sided and pointed at either end; a large crack ran down its center, and a webwork of smaller ones radiated out from it so that no part of the crystal remained untouched. With this great gelstei, Maram had wounded the dragon, Angraboda, in the deeps of Argattha. But the great blast of fire had broken the crystal so that it would unleash fire no more.

'My poor firestone,' he lamented, squeezing the red crystal. 'I had hoped to find, in the Cup of Heaven, the secret of how it might be mended or forged anew. But I've failed.'

'I'm afraid I don't understand,' Master Juwain said.

Maram gazed at the crystal and said, 'As with this firestone, so with my heart. There's a crack there, you see. Some fundamental flaw in my being. Every time I look at Behira, love flows into me like fire. But I can't quite hold it. I had hoped to find in the Lightstone a way that I could. The way to make love last: that's the secret of the universe.'

Maram, I thought, was no different to anyone else. Everyone who stood before the Lightstone sought the realization of his deepest desire. But no one, it seemed, knew how to unlock the secrets of this blessed, golden vessel.

'I see, I see,' Master Juwain said. Then he reached into the pocket of his tunic. He brought out an emerald crystal, much smaller than Maram's, and stood looking at it. He said, 'Don't give up hope just yet.'

'Why, do you propose to heal my heart with that?'

Master Juwain studied the green gelstei that he had gained on our quest. With it, he had healed Atara of a mortal wound, as he had more minor ones torn into Maram's and my flesh. But too often the gelstei failed him. I knew that he dreamed the Lightstone might infinitely magnify the power of his healing crystal.

'I wish I could,' Master Juwain told Maram. 'But you see, I've little more knowledge of how the Ughtstone might be used than you do.'

'Then your journey was unsuccessful?'

'No, I wouldn't quite say that. In fact, I discovered several things of great interest in Nar.'

'What sort of things?'

'Well to begin with, it's becoming ever clearer that only the Maitreya will show what the Lightstone is really for'.

Here he turned toward me, and his large eyes filled with a soft, silver radiance. 'And you, Val — what have you found in the Lightstone?'

'More than I ever dreamed,' I said. 'But less than I hoped.'

Maram had said that love is the secret of the universe. But why did the One, in love, give us life only to take it away in the bitterness of death?

'I have looked for the secret of life.' I admitted.

'And what have you found?'

'That it's a mystery no man will ever solve.'

'Nothing else?'

I stood up and walked over to look out the window. Above Stlvassu — above all the world — Telshar's white diamond peak was gleaming in the light of the late sun.

'There have been moments,' I said at last, 'Once or twice, while I stood looking at the Lightstone, meditating — these bright moments. When the gold of the cup turns clear as diamond. And inside it, there is … everything. All the stars in the universe. I can't tell you how bright is their light. It fell upon me like the stroke of a shining sword that brought joy instead of death. I was alive as I've never been alive before, and every particle of my being seemed to blaze like the sun. And then, for a moment, the light, myself — there was no difference. It was all as one.'

As Maram pulled at his beard, Master Juwain listened quietly and watted for me to say more Then he spoke with a strange gravity. 'You should mark well the miracle of these moments. We all should.'

'Why, sir? Others have experienced similar things. I'm no different to anyone else.'

'Aren't you?'

He stepped closer to me and studied the scar cut into my forehead. It was shaped like a lightning bolt, the result of a wound to my flesh during the violence of my birth.

'It was you,' he said, 'who found the Lightstone in the darkness of Argattha when it was invisible to everyone else. As it had remained invisible for all of an age.'

'Please, sir — we shouldn't speak of this again.'

'No, I'm afraid we must speak of it, before it's too late. You see, Master Sebastian-'

'He's a great astrologer,' I admitted. I hated interrupting Master Juwain, or anyone, but I had gone too far to stop. 'His knowledge is very great, but a man's fate can't be set by the stars.'

'No, perhaps not set, as a chisel's mark in stone,' Master Juwain said. 'It is more like a jeweled tapestry. All that is, or ever will be, is part of it. And each golden thread, each diamond woven into it, reflects the light of all the others. There is only one pattern, one master pattern, as I've said a hundred times. As above, so below. The stars, from where we came, mark the place we will return to. And mark it in patterns within the one pattern resonant with the patterns of our lives. Your life, Val, has already been marked out from all others. Everyone has seen this, in who you are, in what you've done. But Master Sebastian has seen it in the stars.'

He motioned for Maram and me to follow him across the room to where a large desk stood facing the wall. Many old books were heaped on top of it. One was a genealogy of the noble Valari families; another was entitled, simply: The Lesser Gelstei. The largest book was Master Juwain's prized copy of the Saganom Elu, bound in ancient leather. He had placed it, and other books, so that they weighted down the corners of a scroll of parchment. Inked onto its yellow-white surface was a great wheel of a circle, divided by lines like slices of a pie. Other lines formed squares within the circle, and there was a single, equal-sided triangle, too. Around the circle's edge were written various arcane symbols which I took to represent other worlds or the greatest of the heavens' constellations.

'Before I left for Nar,' Master Juwain said to me, 'I asked Master Sebastian to work up this horoscope from the reported hour of your birth.' Here he stabbed his finger at a cluster of symbols at the top of the circle. 'Do you see how your sun is at the midheaven in the constel lation of the Archer? This is the sign of a soul that streaks out like an arrow of light to touch stars. At the midheaven also is Aos, and this is an indication of a great spiritual teacher. And there also, Niran, which portends a spiritual Master or great king. Their conjunction is striking and very strong.'

As the afternoon deepened toward evening, and Maram bent over the desk with me, breaking in my ear, Master Juwain went on to point out other features of my horoscope: the grand trine formed by Elad, Tyra and my moon; my moon, itself, in the Crab Constellation, indicating deep and powerful passions for life that I kept hidden inside to protect myself and avoid hurting others; my Siraj in the castle of service in the sign of the Ram, which marked me out as a man who blazed new paths for others to follow. Directly across the circle from it was to be found my Shahar, planet of vision and transcendence. Its opposition with Siraj, according to Master Juwain, told of the great war that I waged inside myself — and with the world.

'We see here the paradox of your life, Val. That you, who love others so deeply, have been forced to slay so many.'

The sword I wore at my side suddenly felt unbearably heavy. The silustria of its blade was so hard and smooth that blood would not cling to it or stain it. I wished the same were true of my soul.

'And this conflict runs even deeper,' Master Juwain continued. 'It would be as if your soul is pulled in two directions, between the glories of the earth and the still light at the center of all things. In a sense, between life and death.'

As Master juwain paused to take a deep breath, I felt my heart beating hard and painfully inside me. And then he said, 'For one born beneath stars such as yours, it is necessary to die in order to be reborn — as the Silver Swan emerges with wings of light from the flames of its own funeral pyre. Such a one is rare, indeed. A master astrologer, and many men, might call him the Shining One.'

Sweat was now running down my sides in hot streams beneath my armor. I could scarcely breathe, so I pushed back from the desk and moved over to the window for some fresh air. I fairly drank in the wind pouring down from the mountains. Then I turned to Master Juwain and said, 'What did you mean he might be called the Shining One?'

'You see, your horoscope is certainly that of a great man, and almost that of a Maitreya.'

'Almost? Then — '

Before I could say more, the faint fall of footsteps sounded in the hall outside the door, punctuated by the sound of wood striking stone Master Juwain, who had a mind like the gears of a clock, smiled as if satisfied by the result of some secret calculation.

'You see,' he said by way of explanation, 'I've asked for help in deciding this matter.'

There came a soft rapping at the door. Master Juwain crossed the room and opened it. Then he invited inside a small, old woman who stepped carefully as she tapped a wooden cane ahead of her.

'Nona!' I cried out. It was my grandmother, Ayasha Elahad. I rushed across the room to embrace her frail body. Then I placed her arm around mine, and led her over to one of the chairs at the tea table. 'Where is Chaya? You shouldn't go walking about by yourself.'

I spoke the name of the maidservant who had volunteered to help my grandmother negotiate the castle's numerous corridors and treach erous stone stairs. For during the half year of my journey, my grand mother had lost her sight almost overnight: now the white frost of cataracts iced over both her eyes. But strangely although the cataracts kept out the light of the world, they could not quite keep within a deeper and sweeter light. Her essential goodness set my heart to hurting with the sweetest of pains, as it always did. I had often thought of her as the source of love in my family — as the sun is the source of life on earth.

While Maram and I sat at the table on either side of her. Master Juwain made her tea, peppermint with honey, as she requested. He set a new pot and cup before her and made sure that she could reach it easily. I knew that he lamented being unable to heal her of her afflic tion.

My grandmother held herself with great dignity as she carefully moved her hand from the edge of the table toward her cup. Then she said to me, 'I sent Chaya away. There is no reason to burden her, and I must learn to get about by myself. Sixty-two years I've lived here, ever since your grandfather captured my heart and asked me to marry him. I think I know this castle as well as anyone. Now if you please, may we speak of more important things?'

She slowly turned her head as if looking for Master Juwain. Then, to Maram and me, Master Juwain said, 'I've asked the Queen Mother to come here so that she might tell of Val's birth.'

As far as I knew, three woman had attended my entrance to the world: my grandmother and the midwife, Amorah — and, of course, my mother, who had nearly died giving me life.

My grandmother breathed on the hot tea before taking a long sip of it. Then she said, 'Six sons Queen Elianora had already borne for my son, the king. Val was the last, and so he should have been the easiest, but he was the hardest. The biggest, too. Amorah, may she abide with the One, said that he'd baked too long in the oven. She finally had to use the tongs to pull Val out. They cut his forehead, as you can see.'

Although she could no longer see, she tilted her head as if listening for the sound of my breath. Then, with only slight hesitation, she leaned forward, and her hand found the top of my head. Her palm moved slowly down my forehead as she found the scar there, then she traced the cold zags with her warm and trembling finger.

'But what can you fell us,' Master Juwain said, 'about the hour of Val's birth?'

My grandmother hesitated a little longer this time before touching my cheek, then withdrawing her hand to pull at the soft folds of skin around her neck. 'He was born with the sun high in the sky, at the noon hour, as was recorded.'

Both Master Juwain and I turned to glance at the parchment still spread across the nearby desk. Then the heat of Master Juwain's gaze fell upon my grandmother as he asked her, 'Then it was at this hour that Val drew his first breath?'

Master Juwain's eyes gleamed as if he were about to solve an ancient puzzle. He watched my grandmother, who sat in silence as my heart beat ten times. Finally she said, 'No, Val drew his first breath an hour before that. You see, the birth was so hard, he had trouble breathing at all. He was so cold and blue it made me weep. For an hour, Amorah and I thought that he would go over to the other world. At last, though, at noon, his little life quickened. When we knew the fire wouldn't go out, we announced his birth.'

In the sudden quiet of Master Juwain's chamber, twenty-one years after the day that my grandmother had told of, my breathing had stopped yet again. Master Juwain and Maram were staring me. My grandmother seemed to be staring at me too.

'The Morning Star burned brightly that day,' she continued. 'It shone almost like a second sun from before dawn all through the morning, as it does once every hundred years. And so my grandson was named Valashu, after that beautiful star.'

Master Juwain stood up and marched over to the desk. He gathered up the parchment and a similar one that had lain concealed beneath it. After tucking a large, musty book beneath his arm, he marched back toward us.

'Maram,' he called, 'please clear the table for me.' I helped Maram clear the pots and cups from the tea table. Then Master Juwain spread both parchments on top of it, side by side. He stepped back over to the desk and returned with a few more books to hold them down.

'Look,' he said, pointing at the first horoscope that we had already studied. Then he traced his ringer around the circle and symbols of the second parchment. As we could see, the array was nearly the same. 'I confess that I guessed what the Queen Mother has just disclosed today. And so before I left for Nar, I asked Master Sebastian to work up this second horoscope.'

Now his finger trembled with excitement as he touched two small symbols written at the edge of the circle described upon the second parchment. 'Here, of course, is the Morning Star, as on the first horoscope. But here, too — look closely — the stars of the Swan are rising in the east at Vat's earlier and true hour of birth'

Master Juwain straightened and stood like a warrior who has vanquished a foe. He said, 'There are other changes to the horoscope, but this is the critical one. Master Sebastian has advised me that the effect of the Swan, thing would be to exalt and raise the purity of Val's entire horoscope. He has said that these are certainly the stars of a Maitreya.'

I couldn't help staring at the two parchments. The late sun through the windows glared off their whitish surface and stabbed into my eyes.

'It's possible isn't it,' I said, 'that many men, at many times, would have a similar horoscope?'

'No, not many men, Val.'

Master Juwain now brought forth the book from beneath his arm As he opened it and began turning its yellow pages with great care, I noticed the title, written in ancient Ardik: The Coming Of The Shining One. At last, he reached the page he had been seeking. He smiled as he set down the book next to the second parchment.

'I found this in the library of the Brotherhoods sanctuary at Nar. It was always a rare book, and with the burning of Khaisham's Library, it might be the last copy remaining in the world.' He tapped his finger against the symbol-written circle inscribed on the book's open page. 'This is the horoscope of Godavanni the Glorious. Look, Val, look!'

Godavanni had been the greatest of Ea's Maitreyas, bom at the end of the great Age of law three thousand years before. He had also been, as I remembered, a great King of Kings. I gasped in wonder because the two horoscopes, Godavanni's and mine, were exactly the same.

'No,' I murmured, 'it cannot be.'

For my grandmother's sake, Master Juwain explained again the features of my horoscope — and Godavanni's. Then he turned to Maram and said, 'You see, our quest to find the new Maitreya might already be completed.'

'Ah, Val,' Maram said as he pulled at his beard and gazed at me. 'Ah, Val, Val.'

My grandmother reached out her hand and squeezed mine. Then she set it on top of the parchments, rumbling to feel the lines of the symbols written on them.

'Here,' I said, gently pressing her fingertip against the rays denoting the Morning Star. 'Is this what you wanted?'

There was both joy and sadness in her smile as she turned to face me. Her ivory skin was so worn and old that it seemed almost trans parent. The smell of lilacs emanated from her wispy white hair. The cataracts over her eyes clouded their deep sable color, but could not conceal the bright thing inside her, almost too bright to bear. He breath poured like a warm wind from her lips, and I could feel the way that she had breathed it into me at my birth, pressing her lips over mine I could feel the beating of her heart. There was a sharp pain there. It hurt me to feel her hurting so, with sorrow because she was blind and could not look upon me in what seemed my hour of glory. My eyes filled with water and burning salt a moment before hers did, too. And then, as if she knew well enough what had passed between as she reached out her hand to touch away the tears on my cheek that she could not see.

'It was this way with your grandfather, too,' she said. 'You have his gift.'

She gave voice to a thing that we had never spoken of before, for many years it had remained our secret. During the quest, however, Master Juwain and Maram — and my other companions — had discov ered what my grandmother called my gift: that what others feel I feel as well. If I let myself, their joy became my joy, their love flowed into me like the warm, onstreaming rays of the sun. But I was open to darker passions as well: hatred, pain, fury, fear. For my gift was also a curse. How many times on the journey to Argattha, I wondered, had Master Juwain and Maram watched me nearly die with every enemy I had sent on to the otherworld in the screaming agony of death?

My grandmother, as if explaining to Master Juwain and Maram some thing that she thought it was time for them to know, smiled sadly and said, 'It was this way with Valashu from his first breath: it was as if he were breathing in all the pain in the world. It was why, at first, he failed to quicken and almost died.'

For what seemed an hour, I sat next to her in silence holding her hand in mine. And then, to Master Juwain and Maram, to me — to the whole world — she cried out: 'He's my grandson and has the heart of an angel — shouldn't this be enough?'

My gift, this mysterious soul force within me, had a name, an ancient name, and that was valarda. I remembered that this meant the 'heart of the stars.'

As Master Juwain looked down at the two parchments, and Maram's soft, brown eyes searched in mine, 1 kissed my grandmother's fore head, then excused myself. 1 stood up and moved over to the open window. The warm wind brought the smell of pine trees and earth into the room. It called me to remember who I really was. And that could not be, I thought, the Maitreya, Was I a great healer? No, I was a knight of the sword, a great slayer of men. Who knew as well as I did the realm of death where I had sent so many? In the last moment of life, each of my enemies had grasped at me and pulled.me down toward that lightless land. I remembered li nes of the poem that had tormented me since the day I had killed Morjin's assassin in the woods below the castle:

The stealing of the gold,

The evil knife, the cold -

The cold that freezes breath,

The nothingness of death.

And down into the dark,

No eyes, no lips, no spark

The dying of the light,

The neverness of night.

Even now, in the warmth of a fine spring day I felt this everlasting cold chilling my limbs and filling me with dread. The night that knows no end called to me, even as the voices of the dead carried along the wind. They spoke to me in grave tones, telling me that I waited to be one of them — and that I could not be the Shining One, for he was of the sun and earth and all the things of life. A deeper voice, like the fire of the far-off stars, whispered this inside me, too. I did not listen. For just then, with my quick breath burning my lips and Telshar's diamond peak so beautiful against the sky, I recalled the words to another poem, about the Maitreya:

To mortal men on planets bound

Who dream and die on darkened ground,

To bold and bright Valari knights

Who cross the starry heavens' heights,

To all: immortal Elijin

As well the quenchless Galadin,

He brings the light that slays the Lie:

The light of love makes death to die.

'"It is saidthat the Maitreya shall have eternal life",' I whispered, quoting from the Book of Ages of the Saganom Elu.

It was also said that he would show this way to others. How else, I wondered, did men gain the long lives of the Star People and learn to sail the glittering heavens? And how did the Star People advance to the order of the immortal Elijin, and the Elijin become the great Galadin, they who could not be killed or harmed in any way? Men called these beings angels, but they were of flesh and blood — and perhaps something more. Once, in the depths of the black mountain called Skartaru, I had seen a great Elijin lord unveiled in all his glory. Had the hand of a Maitreya once touched him and passed on the inex tinguishable flame?

Master Juwain stood up and came over to me, laying his hand my arm, I turned to him and asked, 'If I were the Maitreya, wouldn't I know this?'

He smiled as he hefted his copy of the Saganom Elu and began thumbing through its pages. Whether by chance or intuition, he came upon words that were close to the questioning of my heart:

The Shining One

In innocence sleeps

Inside his heart

Angel fire sleeps

And when he wakes

The fire leaps

About the Maitreya

One thing is known:

That to himself

He always is known

When the moment comes

To claim the Lightstone.

'But that's just it, sir,' I said to him. 'I don't know this.'

He closed his book and looked deep into my eyes. He said, 'In you, Val, there is such a fire. And such an innocence that you've never seen it.'

'But, sir, I-'

'I think we do know,' he told me. 'The evidence is overwhelming. First, there is your horoscope, the Swan rising, which purifies — wasn't it only by purifying yourself that you were able to find the Lightstone And you are the seventh son of a king of the most noble and ancient line. And there is the mark.' He paused to touch the lightning bolt scar above my eye. 'The mark of Valoreth — the mark of the Galadin.' Just then a swirl of little, twinkling lights fell out of the air as of a storm of shooting stars. In its spiraling patterns were colors os silver, cerulean and scarlet. It hovered near my forehead as if studying the scar there. Joy and faith and other fiery emotions seemed to pour from its center in bursts of radiance. This strange being was one of the Timpum, and Maram had named him Flick. He had attached himself to me in a magical wood deep in the wild forest of Alonia. It was said that once, many ages ago, the bright Galadin had walked there, perhaps looking for the greatest and last of Ea's Maitreyas: the Cosmic Maitreya who might lead all the worlds across the stars into the Age of Light. It was also said that the Galadin had left part of their essence shimmering among the wood's flowers and great trees. Whatever the origins of the Timpum truly were, they did indeed seem to possess the fire of the angels.

'And of course,' Master Juwain said, pointing at the space above my forehead, 'there is Flick. Of all the Timpum, only he has ever made such friends with a man. And only he left the Lokilani's wood — to follow you.'

I looked over toward the tea table, where Maram sat squeezing my grandmother's hand. Then I turned back to Master Juwain and said, 'There is evidence, yes, but it's not known. . how the Maitreya will be known.'

'I believe,' Master Juwain said, 'that the Maitreya, alone of all those on earth, will have a true resonance with the Lightstone.'

'But how is this resonance o be accomplished?'

'That is one mystery I am trying to solve. As you must, too.'

'But when will I solve it?'

In answer, he pointed out the window at the clouds glowing with colors in the slanting rays of the sun. 'Soon, you will. This is the time, Valashu. The Golden Band grows stronger.'

As men such as he and I lived out our lives on far-flung worlds like Ea, the Star People built their great, glittering cities on other worlds closer to the center of the universe. And the Elijin walked on worlds closer still, while the Galadin — Ashtoreth and Valoreth and others — dwelled nearest the stellar heart, on Agathad, which they called Star Home. It was said that they made their abode by an ancient lake, the source of the great river, Ar. The lake was a perfect silver, like liquid silustria, and it reflected the image of the ageless astor tree, Irdrasil, that grew above it. Irdrasil's golden leaves never fell, and they shone even through the night.

For beyond Agathad, at the center of all things, lay Ninsun, a black and utter emptiness out of which eternally poured a brilliant and beau tiful light. It was the light of the Ieldra, beings of pure light who dwelled there. This numinous radiance streamed out like the rays of the sun toward all of creation. The Golden Band, it was called, and it fell most strongly on Agathad, there to touch all living things with a glory that never failed.

But other worlds around other stars, on their slow turn through th universe, moved into its splendor more rarely: with Ea, only once eve three thousand years, at the end of old ages or the beginning of new ones. The Brotherhood's astrologers had divined that, some twenty years before, Ea had entered the Golden Band. And it was waxing ever stronger like the wind before a storm, like a river in late spring gathering waters to nourish the land. Now men and women, if they listened, might hear the voices of the Ieldra calling them closer to their source, even as they called to the Star People on their worlds and to the Elijin on theirs — and called eternally to the angels on Agathad to free the light of their beings and return home as newly created Ieldra themselves.

'The Golden Band,' Master Juwain explained, 'is like a river of light that men do not usually see. It shimmers, the scryers say. There are eddies and currents, and a place where it swells and flows most deeply.'

He gazed out the window for a moment then shook his head as if all that he could see was the blazing sun and the drifting clouds — and two golden eagles that soared among them.

'The constellations,' he said to me, 'somehow affect the Band's strength — and direct it, too. It's known that the Band flared with great intensity on the ninth of Triolet, at the time of your birth.'

I, too, looked out the window for this angel fire that remained invis ible to me.

'I believe,' Master Juwain said, 'that a Maitreya is chosen. By the One's grace, through the light of the Ieldra where it falls most brightly.'

I looked back to the tea table to see that Maram and my grand mother were attending his every word.

'The Maitreya is made, Val. Made to come forth and take his place in the world. And he must come soon, don't you see?'

Soon, he said, the Golden Band would begin to weaken, and a great chance might be lost. For men's hearts, now open to the light that the Maitreya would bring, would soon dose and harden their wills yet again toward evil and war.

'You see,' he said, 'all the other Maitreyas failed. Of those of the Lost Ages, of course, we know almost nothing. But at the end of the Age of the Mother, it's said that Alesar Tal entered the Brotherhood and grew old and died without ever setting eyes upon the Lightstone. And at the end of the Age of Swords, Issayu was enslaved by Morjin and the Lightstone kept from him. Godavanni was murdered at the moment that the Lightstone was placed into his hands. Now we are in the last years of the Age of the Dragon. This terrible time, the darkest of ages. How will it end, Val? In even greater darkness or in light?'

Out of the window I saw cloud shadows dappling the. Courtyard below and darkening the white stone walls of the castle. The foothills rising above them were marked with indentations and undulations, their northern slopes invisible to the eye, lost in shadow and perhaps concealing eagles' aeries and bears' caves and the secret powers of the earth. I marveled at the way the sunlight caught the rocky faces of these hills: half standing out clearly in the strong Soldru light, half darkened into the deeper shades of green and gray and black. I saw that there was always a vivid line between the dark and the light, but strangely this line shifted and moved across the naked rock even as the sun moved slowly on its arc across the sky from east to west.

'Val? Are you all right?'

Master Juwain's voice brought me back to his comfortable room high in the Adami tower. I bowed my head to him, then asked if I could borrow his copy of the Saganom Elu. It took me only a moment to flip through its pages and find the passage I was seeking. I read it aloud word by word, even though I knew it by heart:

'"If men look upon the stars and see only cinders, if the sun should be seen to set in the east — if a man comes forth in falseness as the Shining One concealing darkness in his heart, if he claims the Lightstone for his own, then he shall become a new Red Dragon, only mightier and more terrible. Then red will burn black and all colors die; the heavens' lights will be veiled as if by smoke, and the sun will rise no more."'

I closed the book and gave it back to him. I said, 'I must know, sir. If I am truly this one who shines, I must know.'

We returned to the table to rejoin Maram and my grandmother. Master Juwain made us more tea, which we sat drinking as the sun fell behind the mountains and twilight stole across the world. Master Juwain reasserted his wish that I might come forth as Maitreya in sight of the emissaries who had assembled in my father's castle; it was why, he said, he had hurried home to Mesh. As much as I might need to know if I were really the Lord of Light foreseen in the prophecies, the world needed to be told of this miracle even more.

At last, as it grew dark and the hour deepened into full night, I went over to the window one last time. The sky was now almost clear. The dying of the sun had revealed the stars that always blazed there, against the immense black vault of the heavens. The constellations that my grandfather had first named for me many years before shimmered like ancient signposts: the Great Bear, the Archer, the Dragon, with its sinuous form and two great, red stars for eyes. I searched a long time in these glittering arrays for any certainty that I was the one whom Master Juwain hoped me to be. I did not find it. There was only light and stars, infinite in number and nearly as old as time. Then Maram came up to me and clapped me on the shoulder.

'It's time for the feast my friend. You might very well be this Maitreya, but you're a man first and you have to eat.'

We walked back across the room, where I helped my grandmother out of her chair and took her arm in mine. Then we all went down to the great hall to take food and wine with many others and view the wonder of the Lightstone.