The Lightstone

Chapter 20

Near Senta in the faraway reaches of the Crescent Mountains, there is a series of caverns whose walls are lined with colored crystals Some are violet or emerald and hang like pendants from the caves' glittering ceilings; some shine like sapphires and arise in great blue pillars from the floors. All the crystals, whatever their shape or hue, vibrate like chimes in the wind. In truth, they sing. For centuries, it is said, men and women from across Ea have come to the caverns to listen to these singing crystals and add their own voices to the music that pours out of them. For it is also said that the crystals will record any words that fall upon them so long as they are true and sung with the fire of one's soul.

Upon entering the caverns, all but the deaf hear a million voices trolling out the words of living languages and those long dead. The seven caverns resonate with ancient ballads, love songs, canticles, carols and the death songs of those who have come to say goodbye to the earth that bore them. Their walls, ashimmer with a radiance that also pours from the crystals, echo with plaints and whispers, with cries and prayers and exaltations. The great sound of it has been known to drive men mad. But others have found there a deep peace and an answer to the great mystery of life. For in the Singing Caves of Senta, people hear only what they are ready to hear. Even a deaf man, it is said, might hear the Galadin speaking to him, for the voices of the angels are not carried upon the wind alone and can sometimes be heard as a soundless music deep inside the heart.

All this Alphanderry told us on the lawn of King Kiritan's palace as we watched the fireworks. He told us as well of an Hesperan minstrel – his name was Venkatil – who had journeyed to Senta to learn the secrets of the caves. There, almost by chance, Venkatil had listened in wonder to the words of an old ballad that told of where Sartan Odinan had brought the Lightstone. Some months later, when he had heard that there would be a great quest to find it, he had set sail for Tria only to be shipwrecked in Terror Bay off Galda.

'I met Venkatil in the forest west of Ar,' Alphanderry told us. 'He'd been set upon by robbers and mortally wounded. But before he died, he sang me the words to the ballad. They were in Old Ardik but their meaning was clear enough: "If you would know where the Gelstei was hidden, go to the Blue Mountains and seek in the Tower of the Sun."'

That particular Tower of the Sun, as Alphanderry told us, was also known by its more ancient name: the Tur-Solonu. Once the greatest of Ea's oracles, it had lain in ruins since Morjin had destroyed it in his first rise to power during the Age of Swords.

'Just so,' Kane muttered upon hearing what Alphanderry had to say. 'The Tur-Solonu is destroyed. There's nothing there but a heap of burnt stones. Why should we waste our time there?'

'Because,' Alphanderry said, 'the Singing Caves have never been known to tell anything but the truth.'

'So, it's gobbledegook they tell!' Kane said with inexplicable vehe-mence. 'I've been to the Caves, and I know. There may be truth somewhere in the babble you hear there, but who could ever know what it is?'

We debated the course of our journey long into the night. Kane and Maram both doubted the wisdom of exploring a dead oracle, and Master Juwain seemed inclined to agree with them. But Liljana pointed out that Sartan Odinan might indeed have brought the Lightstone to the Tur-Solonu, in order to hide it in a place that even Morjin might not think to search.

Such an accursed site, whose ruins were said to be haunted by the ghosts of the many servers murdered there, would likewise be avoided by anyone making the quest. With knights journeying to every other oracle on Ea to find clues as to where the Lightstone was hidden, no one -especially not Morjin's priests or spies – would suspect our objective. And it was as good a place to start as any.

Atara, whose eyes took on the faraway glister of the stars, spoke the name of the Tur-Solonu in a strange voice. She looked to me for affirmation that we should journey there. But I hesitated a long time while I listened to the wind sweeping above the lawn's soft grasses.

'If we can't decide,' Maram said, 'perhaps we should take a vote.'

'No, there's to be none of that on this quest,' Kane said. 'We must agree, as one company, what we should do. And if we can't all agree, then one of our company must set our course.'

He proposed then that I lead us. It was I, he said, who had set out for Tria alone only to draw everyone else to me. It was I whom Morjin sought and would first be killed if he found us. And it was I who bore the markof Valoreth. To my surprise everyone agreed with him. At first I protested this decision, for it seemed to me that as elders, either Kane, Liljana or Master Juwain should more properly bear the burden of leadership. But something inside me whispered that perhaps Kane was right after all. I had a strange sense that if I did as he said, I would be completing a pattern woven of gold and silver threads and as ancient as the stars. And so I reluctantly bowed my head to my she friends and accepted their charge. And then we set the rules for our company. These were simple and few. I was not to command as would a ship's captain or a lord. At all times, I was to ask the counsel of my friends in reaching any decision that must be made. And at any juncture in our journey, either along roads winding through dense forests or the even darker paths that lead down through the soul, any of us would be allowed to leave the company at any time, lor freely we had come together as brothers and sisters, and freely we must all follow our hearts.

With my friends all looking at me to decide where we should go, I searched my heart for a long while. And then I drew in a breath and said, 'We'll journey to the Tur-Solonu, then. Liljana is right: it is as good a place to begin as any.'

We then agreed on our most important rule: that whoever first saw and laid hands upon the lightstone, either at the Tur-Solonu or some other place, would be its guardian and decide what should be done with it.

We were among the last to leave the palace grounds that night. By the time we said goodbye to Sar Yarwan and the other Valari knights, and Atara bade her father and mother farewell the sky in the east was brightening to a deep shade of blue. We might have remained as guests in one of the palace's many rooms, hut Atara didn't want to sleep beneath her father's roof, and neither did any of the rest of us.

'Let's get away from here,' Kane whispered to me. He said that even inside the walled palace of a walled city protected by the armies of Trias greatest king, I had nearly been killed. 'I know an inn down by the docks where we can stay and no one will ask our business.'

Maram, who knew something of cities, wrinkled his thick brows and asked, 'But is that safe?'

'Safer?' Kane said. 'Ha – no place on Ea is safe for us now.'

We retrieved our horses and made the short journey through Tria's deserted streets to the inn that Kane had suggested. It was called the Inn of the Seven Delights, and there we found large, clean rooms, hot baths and good food, if not the other delights promised by the inn's brightly painted sign. We stayed inside resting all that day and night. And then the following morning we began preparing for our journey to the Tur-Solonu.

There was much to do. Atara went off with Kane to the horse market just north of the Eluli Bridge, where she purchased a fine roan mare to replace the mount that she had lost fighting the hill-men. Inspired by the red hairs of the mare's flowing mane, she named her Fire. As Well, she and Kane bargained for four more sturdy packhorses. These would bear the supplies we would need to reach the Blue Mountains.

Kane insisted that we travel lightly, and spoke against burdening the horses with tents or any unnecessary gear. But he also insisted that we pack as much weaponry as possible. Atara, of course, agreed with him. Arrows especially we might lose along the way, and so she went with him to an arrowmaker's shop, and they laid in a great store of long, feathered shafts. Kane said that Master Juwain, Liljana and Alphanderry should be able to defend themselves at close quarters, and toward that end, he went to the swordmaker's and selected three cutlasses that they might find easy to wield. Master Juwain, upon beholding his gleaming yard of steel, shook his head sadly and informed us that he would keep his vow to renounce war.

Alphanderry said that he would rather sing than fight; but to please Kane, he strapped on his sword all the same. Liljana, too, seemed chagrined at Kane's gift.

She stood holding her cutlass as she might a snake and then said a strange thing:

'Am I a pirate that I should begin carrying a pirate's sword? Well, perhaps we're all pirates, off to take the Lightstone by force. And this age, whatever men may call it, is still the Age of Swords.'

After that she went about Tria's streets with her cutlass concealed beneath a long, gray traveling cloak. It was she, with Maram's help, who took charge of laying in the food and drink for our journey. During the next two days they visited various shops near the river and gathered up dried apples, dried beef and dried salt cod as thin and hard as wooden planks. As well they bought casks of flour to be used to make hotcakes or to bake into bread. There were the inevitable battle biscuits wrapped in wax paper, and walnuts and almonds that had come from Karabuk. And much else.

Since we would be traveling through a country of rivers and streams, there was no need for the horses to carry water. But Maram, from his own pocket, bought casks of other liquids to set upon their backs: brown beer from a little brewery near the docks and some good Galdan brandy. Such spirits, he said, would warm our hearts on cold nights, and I agreed with him. To my surprise, Kane and the others -even Master Juwain – did, too.

Our brief stay in the inn was marked by one ugly incident: on our second night there, Kane and I found Atara in the common room winning at dice, which proved to be one of the inn's seven delights. Her luck had been suspiciously good, and she had turned her few remaining coins into a considerable pile of gold. The men from whom she had won it – big, blond-haired sailors from Thalu who wore their cutlasses openly – didn't want to let her leave the table with so much of their money. They might have fought her over it but for a wild look that flashed in Kane's dark eyes, and, I supposed, in my own. As Kane put it it was far better to warn men off before drawing bright steel from beneath our cloaks. Of course, we couldn't always hope for such men to back down before us and so keep ourselves concealed. Therefore, he said, we should leave Tria as soon as possible.

We completed our preparations on the evening of the tenth of Soldru. Although Kane thought it likely that we had evaded any Kallimun priests or others set to spy us out, we couldn't know this for certain.

'This inn may be watched even now,' he said as we gathered in the larger of our two rooms. 'So – it's certain that the Kallimun will have the gates watched. That will make it hard to leave the city, won't it?'

He proposed going down to the docks and renting a boat that might carry us out into the Bay. of Belen; thus we might simply sail around Tria and her great walls. But Atara had another plan.

'The gates may be watched,' she said, 'but certainly not at night when they are shut.'

'If they are closed, how are we to pass through them?' Maram asked. 'That's simple: we'll open them,' she said. 'You see, I have the key.' And with that, she drew forth her purse and hefted the clinking gold coins in her hand. Kane smiled at her, and so did I. None of us had really wanted to embark upon a strange boat anyway.

We waited until midnight and then assembled the horses on the empty street outside the inn's stable. The nearby shops – that of the sailmaker and the sawyer – were quiet and dark. I greeted Altaru by touching the white star at the middle of his forehead, then pulled myself onto his back. Atara, astride Fire, rode next to me while Master Juwain and Maram with their sorrels took up behind her. Behind them, they trailed the new packhorses, two by two, with Tanar behind them. Liljana and Alphanderry rode near the rear. Liljana's horse was a chestnut gelding a little past his prime; Alphanderry rode one of the magnificent Tervolan whites, which were famed for their fine heads and proud, arching necks. He called him by the strange name of Iolo.

Kane, scanning the street left and right from atop his big bay, took up the point of greatest danger at the very rear.

And so we set out for the Tur-Solonu. In the stillness of the night we made our way toward the city's walls, now gleaming eerily in the light of the moon. The dopping of our horses' hooves against the cobblestones seemed overloud; it reassured us that we heard no other such sounds, nor even the footfalls of furtive boots in the darkened alleys that we passed. In this poorer section of the city, few people were about: a band of drunken sailors returning to their ships; a street cleaner shoveling up horses' dung; and the beggars who slept beneath the bridges. None of them paid us much notice or followed us. We made our way north by narrow streets paralleling the much greater River Road. Here, the buildings around us seemed ten thousand years old – and perhaps some of them were. Just to the east of us, Atara told me, were the docks of the King's Fleet and the ancient fortresses that housed the sailors who manned his warships.

We passed onto a broad avenue and drew up before the Urwe Gate. The moon had dipped toward the west; it cast a rain of silver light upon the great iron gate set into the wall before us. We sat on our horses hoping that no spies were watching what we did. The street was lined with windowless houses, and the still air smelled of bread baking and the salty tang of the sea. One of King Kiritan's soldiers, arrayed in full armor, came out of the guardhouse next to the gate, sniffing at the air – and sniffing at us as if trying to suss out our identities. He demanded that we dismount, and this we did.

'The gate is closed!' he snapped at us. Then he drove the iron-shod butt of his spear against it as if to emphasize the law of the city. 'It won't be opened until morning.'

The gates are meant to keep our enemies out,' Atara said to him. 'Not to keep Trians within.'

'And who are you to tell me what the gates are for?' the guard demanded.

Atara stepped forward and threw back the hood of her doak. Then she said to him,

'I'm Atara Ars Narmada.'

Although it was hard to tell in the thin light, it seemed that the guard's face paled like the moon itself.

'Excuse me, Princess,' he said. He turned to peer at Kane and me, and the others,

'I'd heard that you'd taken up with strange companions.'

'Strange, hmmph,' she said. 'But you're right that they are my com-panions. We've vowed to make the Quest together. Will you let us pass?'

'At this hour? The King would have me flayed if I opened the gates before dawn, even for his own daughter.'

Atara pointed at the sally port set into the iron of the gate. This gate within a gate – little wider than a horse and about thirty hands high -was meant to allow the Trians to sally out to attack besieging soldiers. At the guard' discretion, it could be opened for travelers who might arrive at the city after sunset.

'We would never think to ask you to open the main gate,' Atara said. Then she pointed at the sally port. 'But if the King's knights can pass this way, so can we.'

The guard stood staring at the sally port – and at us. He said, 'This is most irregular.

No one has ever made such a request of me.'

'How long have you stood guard here, then?' Atara asked.

'It's almost a year now,' he said. 'Ever since I ws wounded in Tarlan.'

'And before that – how long have you served the King?'

'Twenty two years,' he said proudly.

'What is your name, then?'

'Lorand, they call me.'

'Well Lorand – do you have a family?'

'Yes, Princess. Five boys and two girls. And my wife. Adalina.'

'You've taken wounds in the King's service,' Atara said, bowing her head, 'My father is a great man, but he is not always able to reward his men as they should be. It can't be easy feeding such a large family on a soldier's pay.'

'No, Princess, it's not.'

'Please allow me, then, to reward your loyalty. The House of Narmada won't forget it.'

So saying, Atara shook a dozen coins out of her purse and handed them to Lorand one by one. The gold worked a magic almost as deep as that of Master Juwain's gelstei: it turned the cranky, bleary-eyed guard into an ally anxious to help us leave the city in the middle of the night. He fairly leaped back into the guard house where he found an iron key with which to open the sally port. A few moments later, he swung open its creaking door, and the road to the Blue Mountains lay before us.

'Thank you;' Atara said. 'Truly, thank you.'

While Fire nickered impatiently, Atara touched Lorand's hand and looked him straight in the eye. Then she said, 'You must have heard what happened at the palace three nights ago. There may be more assassin who would follow us, if they could.'

'But how could they, Princess?' Lorand said smiling at her. 'Since the city's gates won't be opened until morning?'

'Well, there is always the sally port,' Atara said, smiling at him. Then she handed him her purse, and closed his fingers around its heavy weight of gold.

'No – I think opening it once tonight is enough,' Lorand said, returning her smile.

Then he looked down at the purse in his hand and added, 'More than enough. Go quickly now, and don't you worry about assassins.'

And with that, he waved us to pass. We led the horses one by one through the narrow sally port and out onto the road leading away from the walls. The port clanged shut behind us. Then Kane turned to Atara and said, 'That was well done. I couldn't have bribed him better myself.'

In the intense moonlight, Atara's face suddenly fell sad. 'It's the same everywhere.

Even on the Wendrush, men love gold too much.'

'So – gold's gold,' Kane said. 'And men are men.'

'Well, I just hope he stays bribed,' Maram said. 'The Kallimun priests must have gold, too.'

'Surely they do,' Atara said. 'But surely there's something that the guard must love more than gold.'

'Eh, what's that?' Kane asked. The King? The House Narmada?'

'No,' Atara said as her eyes gleamed. 'His honor.'

Liljana, who seemed able to scent out false intentions as she might poison, agreed with Atara that Lorand could be trusted. I decided not to worry. With the world opening out before us into the starry night, I felt wild and free as I hadn't for a long time. The wind off the unseen sea to the north carried the scent of limitless possibilities while the moon in the west called with its great, silvery face. I whistled to Altaru then, and we mounted our horses, forming up as before. And so, for the love of a different kind of gold, we rode toward the hills shining on the horizon.

It was a fine, dear night for travel; the moon was waning only three days past full and seemed as bright as a beacon. The road, though not quite so broad as the Nar Road, was a good one, with paving stones set at a contour to shed the rain and mile markers along our way. It led northwest, along the Bay of Belen where there were many fishing villages and little towns.

These were our first miles on the road together as a whole company and the first true night of the quest. For a long while, we spoke nothing of it. Even so, I felt my friends' excitement crackling like lightning along a rocky crag. The moon fell toward the earth as the white towers of Tria grew ever smaller behind us and we rode deeper into the beautiful night. Although each of us might have his own reasons for seeking the Lightstone, we moved as with one purpose, as if our individual dreams were only part of a greater dream. And this dream – as old as the earth and indestructible as the stars – like a perfect jewel shone the more brightly with every facet with which it was cut.

About an hour before dawn, we stopped to take a little rest. We lay -wrapped in our cloaks atop a grassy knoll overlooking the ocean. The sight of this great, shimmering water thrilled me and loosed inside me deep swells of hope. I fell asleep to the sound of waves crashing against rocks. I dreamed of the Lightstone: it sat on a pinnacle arising from the foamy surf. There, from this still point above the world, it poured out its radiance as from a deep and bottomless source. I wanted to open myself to this flowing light, to drink it in until I was full and vast as the ocean itself. I dreamed that I could hold whole oceans inside me, and more, perhaps even the sufferings and joys of those I loved.

When I awoke, the sun was a red disk glowing above the Poru valley behind us, and the sky was taking on the bright blue tones of morning. I sat on the grass looking out at the sea as I remembered my dream. It came to me that my reasons for wanting to find the Lightstone were changing, even as the days of Soldru grew ever brighter and hotter, and spring turned toward summer. It no longer seemed quite so important to gain renown or prove my courage to my father and brothers and the other knights of Mesh. And impressing King Kiritan and thus winning Atara's hand as my wife was certainly as vain as it was hopeless: even if he someday consented to our marriage, I thought it impossible that Atara would ever kill her hundred enemies and be released from her vows. There remained my deep desire to be healed of the valarda with which I had been born. To wish this only for myself now seemed a selfish and even ignoble thing. In truth, I questioned the very wish itself, for I was beginning to see that my gift might help my friends even as it tormented me.

Hadn't I, after Atara had eaten the timana and lay stricken in the Lokilani's wood, somehow called her back from death? And hadn't I called to King Kiritan's compassion and softened his heart toward her? What other possibilities might be lost if the valarda were simply expunged from me like a raging fever that gives visions of the angels along with convulsions?

Surely the Cup of Heaven held secrets unknown to any man. And surety the unbidden empathy that connected me to others held for me mysteries I might never understand.

For many years, I had thought of my gift as a door that might be opened or closed according to my will. Some terrible things, such as my killing Raldu in the woods, paralyzed my will and left me open to the greatest of pain. But only three nights before, I had slain Baron Narcavage's men and suffered something less than the icy touch of their deaths. Was I somehow learning to keep closed the door to my heart even as I struck cold steel into others'? Or was I only hardening, as tender; flesh grows layers of callus to bear up beneath the world's outrages and thorns?

I didn't know. But my dream led me to hope that someday, in some mysterious way, the valarda might help me withstand the most violent of passions and emotional storms. I did know that whatever the cost, I must somehow keep myself open to my companions, for I had something vital to give them.

And I couldn't not give. They were as my brothers and sisters, and each of them was close to my heart in a different way. Each had weaknesses and even greater strengths that I was beginning to see ever more clearly. This was my gift, to see in others what they couldn't see in themselves. And in Kane and Atara, no less Maram and Master Juwain, was buried a finer steel than they ever knew.

Maram, my fat friend, lived in fear of the world and all that might come growling out of its dark shadows to harm him. But he also lived, passionately and with great joy, as few men dared to do, and I believed that someday his love of life would overcome his fright. Master Juwain might dwell too much in his books and his brain, but I knew that someday, and soon, he would find the door to his own heart and emerge from it as a healer without equal. Atara might be overzealous in striving to make the world and everything around her perfect. But in her, more than anyone I knew, blazed a deep love that was already perfect in itself and needed no refinement to touch others with its beauty. As for Kane, his hate pooled black and bitter as bile.

But his rage at life was all the more terrible for concealing something sweet and warm and splendid as a golden apple shining in the sunlight. I prayed that someday he would remember himself and behold the noble being he was born to be.

Liljana and Alphanderry were harder for me to read, for I had known them only a few days. Already, however, on this very morning, Liljana's caring for others was obvious in the way she surprised us with a breakfast of bacon, eggs and some delicious crescent bread that she managed to coax out of a stone oven that she had painstakingly built while we had slept. She insisted on keeping our plates full while she waited to eat – and took nothing but joy at seeing our bodies and souls thus nourished. And Alphanderry, when we had finished our meal, picked up his mandolet and sang us a song with all his heart. He was incapable, I thought, of singing any other way. His music made our spirits soar and our feet eager to set out on the road before us.

I believed in my friends as I did the earth and the trees, the wind, the sky, the very sun. In their presence I felt more fully human, more alive. Often it seemed that I longed for their company as I did food and drink Their smiles and kind words sustained me; the beating of their hearts reminded me of the power and purpose of my own. I loved the sound of Maram's deep voice the smell of Atara's thick hair, even the wild gleam bound up in the darkness of Kanes black eyes. Their gift to me was greater than anything I could ever give to them, for it fed the fire of my valarda; it made me want to touch all things no matter the passion or pain, to burn away and be reborn like a great silver swan from the flames. In them I heard the whisper of my deepest self no less the calling of the stars.

We resumed our journey that morning with great good cheer. We rode without time pressing at us – and neither were we harried by wounds or men pursuing us with swords or knives. I was almost certain of this. The country through which we passed, with its little farms and fishing villages, was as peaceful as any I had ever seen. There was no smell of danger in the air, only the scent of the sea that blew over us in soft breezes and cooled the sun-drenched land.

We stopped to take our midday meal in a village called Railan. From a stand near the boats by the beach, we bought some fried fish and little slices of potatoes all crisp and golden and redolent with strangely spiced oils, I stood a long time staring out at the shining ocean and marveling at its size. And then Kane growled out that it was growing late and we should be on our way.

We left the coast road at Railan, from where it continued along the headland to the ancient town of Ondrar, built at the point of a peninsula sticking out into the ocean.

Ondrar was famed for its museum housing many artifacts from the Age of Law; in setting out on the road toward this town, which lay northwest of Tria, we had hoped that anyone following us would suppose we would begin our quest there. But Kane was expert at maneuver and believed in always misdirecting the enemy. The Tur-Solonu, to the southwest, remained our objective. So, as we had decided the previous night we turned toward it on a little dirt road leading out of Railan. It was scarred with potholes and wagon tracks, but so long as the weather held good, it would suit our purpose well.

'We're free,' Maram said to me that evening as we made camp on a farmer's field by a stream. 'Finally free. I'm sure no followed us from Tria. Ah, no one is following us, are they, Val?'

'No, they're not,' I said to reassure him. I looked at the farmland spread across the green hills around us and the occasional stands of trees along the streams. Then I smiled and said, 'It's likely that there aren't even any bears.'

The following morning we continued on into the fine spring sunshine. Away from the coast the air grew warmer, but never so hot that we suffered, not even Kane and I in our steel armor. All that day and the next our horses walked down the dry road. Fifty miles, at least, we covered with our steady plodding, and every mile was full of birds singing or bees buzzing in the flowers in the woods by the road. Along our way, the farms grew ever smaller and were separated by ever greater stands of trees.

Some time on the fourth day of our journey, we passed from Old Alonia into the barony of Iviunn. A woodcutter that we met along the road told us that we had crossed into Baron Muar's domains. He also told us that we would find few farms or towns thereabout. We had entered a forest he said, that so far as he knew went on to the west for a good seventy miles.

'So,' Kane told us later, 'the forest goes on a hundred and seventy miles, all the way to the Tur-Solonu – and beyond, across the mountains into the Vardaloon. That's the greatest forest in all of Ea.'

The thought of such an unbroken expanse of trees awed me almost as much as had the sight of the ocean. I looked about us at the verdant swath of oaks and elms crowding the road – now reduced to a dirt track – and I said, 'So few people here.'

'Yes – that's what we wanted, isn't it?'

A long time ago, he said, this part of Alonia from Iviunn up into the domains of Narain and Jerolin, had been full of people. But the War of the Stones had laid waste the countryside, and the forest had reclaimed land once its own. There were still many people in Iviunn, but fifty miles to the south, along the Istas River.

'Ah, perhaps we should have traveled that way,' Maram said as he stared off into the darkening woods. 'There is a road that goes from Tria to Durgin, isn't there? A good road, it's said.'

'You're thinking of your bears again, aren't you?' Kane asked him.

'Well, what if I am?'

'So,' Kane said to him, 'you've seen bears and you've seen Morjin's men: Kallimun priests as well as the Grays. Which do you prefer?'

'Neither,' Maram said, shuddering. 'But we don't know that we'd find the Kallimun along the Durgin Road, do we?'

'We won't find them here,' Kane snapped at him. Then, as if remem-bering that Maram was now his sworn companion, his voice softened and he said, 'At least it's much less likely.' We made camp under the cover of the trees that night In this thick forest among the oaks and elms, there were many that I had seen only rarely: black ash and locust magnolia and holly. We laid out ow sleeping furs near some thickets full of baneberry, with their tiny white flowers that looked like clumps of snow. The coming into our company of Kane, Alphanderry and Liljana had changed our daily routines for the better, I thought. Atara had a talent for finding good clear water and so set herself the task of filling our canteens and pots and bearing them back and forth from a nearby stream to our camp. I took charge of tending the horses: tethering and combing them down, and feeding them the oats that the packhorses carried. It gave me some moments to be alone with Altaru beneath the tree-shrouded stars. Maram, of course, gathered wood for his fires, while Kane worked furiously to fortify our camp, sometimes cutting brush or thornwood to place around it sometimes hiding dry twigs among the bracken so that whoever stood watch might be warned of approaching enemies by hearing a sudden snap. Master Juwain took to helping Liljana prepare our meals. Although he had acquired some skill with the cookware since Mesh and could turn out a good plate of hotcakes, he had much to learn from Liljana, who immediately commandeered the food supply and practically turned him into her servant. But we were all grateful that she did. That night she conjured up a fish stew out of the ugly planks of salt cod and some roots, herbs, mushrooms and wild onions that she found in the forest. It was delicious. For dessert we had raspberries, accompanied by a little brandy. And then, while Master Juwain washed the dishes, Alphanderry played his mandolet and sang to us before we slept

He really did little other work. To be sure, he might wander about the camp, joining me to brush the horses or helping Kane cut sharpened stakes to be driven into the earth – until Kane grew exasperated with his desultory axework and growled at him to be left alone. He flitted from one task to another, sometimes completing it, sometimes not, but always having a good time talking with whomever he chose to help. And we took great delight in his company, for he was always outgoing and cheerful, and always responsive to others' moods or remarks. If he saw it as his charge to keep our spirits uplifted, no one disputed that. In the end, despite whatever fine foods we found to put into our bellies, sharpened stakes or no, it would only be by strengthening our spirits that we would ever find the Lightstone.

That night, as we sat on top of our furs sipping our brandy, while Alphanderry's beautiful voice flowed out into the night, Flick appeared and spun about to the music. This lifted my spirits, and those of Master Juwain, Maram and Atara, for we hadn't seen much of him since we entered Tria. But since leaving the city, he had become ever more active and visible, and now the darkness between the trees filled with tiny, twinkling stars. I laughed to see him dancing among the flowers as he had in the Lokilani's wood. Even Kane smiled when Flick pulsed with little bursts of light to the rhythms of Alphandeny's song. He pointed off into the trees and said to me,

'Your little friend is back.'

Alphanderry, sitting toward the fire, suddenly put down his mandolet and turned to look into the woods. Then he looked around the fire at Atara, Maram, Master juwain and me, and asked, 'What are you all staring at?'

Strangely, although Flick had been with us since the night of the fireworks, we hadn't yet remarked his presence. Does one make mention of the stars that come out every night? Sometimes, though, when the great Swan constellation and others are particularly bright, it is very hard not to look up in wonder. As it was now with Flick.

'It's one of the Timpimpiri,' Kane told Alphanderry. 'He's followed us through most of Alonia.'

Now Alphanderry blinked his eyes and stared hard toward the trees. Liljana did too.

But neither of them saw anything other than shadows.

'You're having a joke with me, aren't you?' Alphanderry said as he smiled at Kane.

'A joke, is it?' Kane called out. 'Do I look like one to joke?'

'No, you don't,' Alphanderry admitted. 'And we'll have to change that before this journey is through.'

'You might as well try changing the face of the moon,' Maram put in.

Again, Alphanderry smiled as he studied the woods and suddenly said, 'Hoy, yes, I do see him now! He's got ears as long as a rabbit and a face as green as the leaves we can't see.'

'Ha – foolish minstrel,' Kane muttered as he took a sip of brandy. But his raising of his glass couldn't quite hide the smile that touched his lips.

'Here, Flick!' Alphanderry suddenly called to the trees. 'Why don't you come here and say hello?'

Alphanderry began whistling then, and this high-pitched sound was as sweet as any music that ever flowed from a panpipe. To our astonishment, and Kane's most of all, Flick came whirling out of the trees and took up position in front of Alphanderry's face.

'Oh, Flick,' Alphanderry said to the air in front of him, 'you're a fine little fellow, aren't you? But it's too bad we've eaten all of Liljana's good stew and have only bread to share with you.'

So saying, he found a crust of bread and held it out as he might to feed a squirrel.

'You really can't see him, can you?' Maram said to him.

'How could he,' Master Juwain asked, 'if he never ate the timana?

'Of course I can see him,' Alphanderry said. 'He's a shy little one, isn't he? Come, Flick, this bread won't hurt you.'

To prove this, he ate most of it and left a large crumb between his lips. And then he held out his hand as if beckoning Flick to hop onto it and take the crumb from his mouth.

Once again, it astonished us when Flick moved onto the palm of his hand. The spiral swirls of his form flared with sparks and little purple flames.

'Ha!' Kane said, 'he must understand more than we thought. It would seem that there's more to the Timpimpiri than anyone thought'

'Of course there is,' Alphanderry said, after swallowing the breadcrumb. 'They are magical beings, known to live in the deeper woods everywhere. If they've taken food from you, they must grant three wishes.'

'But Flick can't take food at all,' Maram said.

'Of course he can!' Alphanderry said. 'Of course he did! Didn't you see him?'

'Ah, I suppose I must have been looking away,' Maram said, grinning. 'What are your three wishes, then?'

'My first wish, of course, is that Flick grant all my future wishes.'

That's cheating!' Atara called out.

'And my second wish,' he said, ignoring her, 'is that we accomplish the impossible and find the Lightstone.'

'That's better,' Atara said, smiling.

'And my third wish,' he continued, 'is that we accomplish the truly impossible and make our grim Kane laugh.'

Kane sat by the fire staring at Alphanderry with his hard eyes, and a stone statue couldn't have been more still.

'Now, then,' Alphanderry said, rising to his feet, 'the, ah, Timpimpiri are capable of many feats, magical and otherwise. Please watch closely, or you'll miss this.'

Alphanderry, it turned out, was skilled not only in music and singing but in the art of pantomime. He stood looking at his open hand and talking to Flick as if trying to persuade his invisible friend to entertain us. And all the while, his face took on different moods and expressions, and seemed as easily molded as a ball of Liljana's bread dough. The extreme mobility of his face, no less the sudden and comical deepening of his voice, made us laugh a little – all of us except Kane.

'Now, Flick,' Alphanderry said in a voice all arrogant and stern like King Kiritan's,

'you've eaten our food and now must obey us. At my command, you'll jump into my other han.'/

Alphanderry now held his left hand out and away from his body. He looked down toward Flick in his right hand, and said, 'Are you ready?

Just then his face underwent a sudden transfiguration and fell softer. His voice softened, too, becoming fully feminine, and when he spoke, its tone was unmistakably that of Queen Daryana. As if speaking to himself, this new voice called out, 'Is he a Timpimpiri or a slave? Why don't you set him free?'

Again, Alphanderry's face and voice took on the manner of King Kiritan. And he called out in response, 'Who rules here, you or I?'

Now he looked down at his hand and continued, 'When the King says jump, you jump.'

But before he, as King Kiritan, could get another word out, his face fell through yet another change. And speaking with Queen Daryana's voice, he said, 'The King has said you must jump, Flick. All right then, jump!'

All at once, Flick shot up off Alphanderry's hand and streaked up in a fiery arc to land on the other. And Alphanderry, who had yet again returned to his King Kiritan persona, pretended to watch this feat with outrage coloring his face. His eyes opened wide at his Queen's defiance and bounced like balls as they turned toward his other hand.

Now Kane's stony visage finally cracked. The faintest of smiles turned up his lips.

Alphanderry's antics amused him much less, I thought, than did his utter blindness to Flick.

Alphanderry, still speaking as Queen Daryana, said, 'Quick, Flick -jump! Jump again, jump now!'

Each time he said this, Flick streaked from Alphanderry's one hand to the other, back and forth like a blazing rainbow. And with each jump, Alphanderry's face returned to the stern lines of King Kiritan as his eyes bounced up and down.

Maram and I – everyone except Kane – were now laughing heartily. Alphanderry's failure to move Kane must have distressed him, for he stopped his pantomime, looked at Kane, and in his own voice, he said, 'Hoy, man, what will it take to make you laugh?'

Kane didn't blink as he said, 'Make him spin on your nose.'

Alphanderry again became King Kiritan as he replied, 'That would be beneath our dignity.'

And as Queen Daryana, he continued, 'Then perhaps I should make him spin on my nose. Flick, I want you to -'

'Enough!' Kane called out, holding up his hand. He stood up facing Alphanderry and pointed at Flick, who was spinning in the space just above Alphanderry's hand. 'The Timpimpiri are real They dwell in the woods of the Lokilani.'

'And who are the Lokilani?' Alphanderry asked.

'They're the people of the woods,' Kane said. He held out his hand just below his chest as if measuring a man's height. 'The little people.'

'Oh – and I suppose they have long ears like a rabbit's and green faces,' Alphanderry said. He turned to wink at Maram and told him 'You see, I have gotten him to joke.'

Kane pointed again at Flick and said. 'This is no joke. Although I can't understand it, the Timpimpiri seems to hear you and do as you bid.'

'Really? Then will he spin on my fmger?' Alphanderry held up his finger as I pointing at the stars. 'I suppose he's spinning there now?'

No sooner had he spoken these words, then Flick flew up and turned about above his finger like a jeweled top.

Alphanderry abruptly took away his band, and then bent to retrieve his personal kit from the foot of his furs, from it he removed a needle, which he held up to the light of the fire.

'And now,' he said, 'I suppose he's dancing upon this needle?'

And lo, in a flash, with perfect equipoise, Flick spun wildly about the point of the needle.

'Hoy, yes, and now, of course, he's spinning on my nose!'

To emphasize the foolishness of what he had said, his eyes suddenly crossed as if fixing on a fly on the tip of his nose. And there, unseen by him, Flick appeared doing his wild, incandescent dance.

This last proved too much for Kane. The crack in his obduracy suddenly widened into a bottomless chasm. His face broke into the widest smile I had ever seen as he let loose a great howl of laughter. He couldn't stop himself. He fell to his knees, laughing hard and deeply, tears in eyes, his belly heaving in and out as he sweated and gasped and his whole body shook. I thought the earth itself cracked open then, for the laughter that shook his soul was more like an earthquake than any human emotion. Out of him erupted blasts of smoke and fire, thunder and lightning – or so it seemed. He lay on the ground laughing for a long time as he held his belly, and we were all so awed by this sudden outburst that we didn't know what to do. In truth, there was nothing to do except laugh along with him, and this we did.

Finally, however, Kane grew quiet as he sat up breathing hard. Through his tears, his bright black eyes seemed to shine with great happiness. I saw in him, for a moment, a great being: joyful, open, radiant and wise. He smiled at Alphanderry and said,

'Foolish minstrel – perhaps you are good for something.'

And then he regained much of his composure. The harsh, vertical lines returned to his face; flesh gave way before stone. He stared at Flick who was now wavering in the air a few feet from Alphanderry.

Then came a time for explanations. While the fire burned down and the great constellations wheeled about the heavens, we took turns telling of our stay In the Lokilani's wood Alphanderry came to see that we were not having a joke with him after all. I spoke to him of my first glorious vision of the many Timpum lighting up the forest, and he believed me trust came easy to him. When Atara, with tears in her eyes, told of how she had almost died upon eating the timana, Alphanderry looked at me and said, 'You saved her life, then. With this gift that Kane calls the valarda. Is that why your Flick followed you out of the vild?'

Flick came over to me and hovered above my shoulder. I could almost feel the swirls of fire that made up his being. 'Who knows why he followed me?' I said.

'Perhaps for the same reason we all do,' Alphandeny said thought-fully, 'Well, perhaps someday I'll be able to see him with you.'

All this time, Liljana had remained silent when she hadn't been laughing. Now, as it became clear that a great mystery had been set before her, she said simply, 'I'd like a taste of this timana, too.'

The following morning we made our way through a forest wide and thick enough to hide ten of the Lokilani's vilds. But we found neither another tribe of them nor their sacred fruit, and I thought that Liljana would have to wait a long time to be granted her wish. As we moved away from Old Alonia deeper into Iviunn, the gentle hills gave out onto a great forested plain. We made good progress along the track through the trees. Although it sometimes turned and narrowed as such tracks do, it mostly led straight toward the west. If we continued as we did, I calculated that we would reach the Blue Mountains in only seven more days.

And then the following day, great gray clouds moved in from the sea, and it began to rain. By late afternoon, our track had turned into a slip of mud. Although the deluge didn't slow us very much, it made the going miserable, for it was a cold, driving rain that soaked our cloaks and found its way into our undergarments. It didn't stop that day, nor even on the next or the one following that. By the fourth day of this weather, we were all a little on edge. We had all lost sleep, twisting and turning and shivering on the sodden earth.

'I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm wet,' Maram complained. 'But at least I'm not hungry – and we have Liljana to thank for that. Oh, my Lord, no one else could prepare such delicious meals in such foul weather!'

Liljana, riding her tired gelding who practically draped his hooves through the squishing mud, beamed at his compliment. I noticed that just as she thrived on sacrificing herself and serving others, she relished their appreciation at least as much.

Her selflessness was an example to us all She never minded being roused from even the deepest of sleeps and taking her turn standing watch. Twice, she even stayed awake in the exhausted Alphanderry's place to let him sleep; as she put it, some people needed more rest than others, and we had all observed that Alphanderry's talent for sleeping was almost as great as for making music and song.

As for myself, I often liked wandering about the camp when the hours grew darkest.

On clear nights, I had a chance to be alone with the stars -or what 1 could see of them through the thick cover of the trees. And on rainy nights, I turned my marveling toward Flick. It almost seemed that he could sense my fervor to reach the Tur-Solonu, for with each passing day of the quest, his fiery form grew brighter as if to give me hope. The most bitter of rains passed right through him, dimming his light not even a little. In truth, he seemed to burn the brightest at precisely those moments when either rain or kirax or fear of the evils we faced damped my spirits and touched me with its cold.

On the fourth night of rain, I was awakened well before it was my turn to stand watch. I heard Kane shouting, and immediately grabbed for my sword. I sprang up from my wet furs, as did Atara and Liljana, followed more slowly by Mararn and Master Juwain. We all rushed to the edge of our camp, where Kane had piled some brush. He stood glowering above Alphanderry, who sat in the drizzling rain looking bewildered. If not for the fire that Maram had made earlier – and the radiance pouring out of Flick – it was so dark that we wouldn't have been able to see them at all.

'He fell asleep!' Kane accused as he pointed at Alphanderry. His eyes were coals glowing like those of the fire. 'He couldn't even make it through an hour of his watch!'

'I don't know what happened,' Alphanderry said as he rose to his feet. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and then looked at Kane as he smiled sheepishly. 'It was so dark, and I was so tired, so I sat down, only for a moment. I just wanted to rest my eyes, and so I closed them and -'

'You fell asleep!' Kane thundered again. 'While you rested your damn eyes, we might have all been killed!'

His whole body tensed then, and I was afraid he might raise his arm to Alphanderry.

So I clamped my hand around his elbow. He turned toward me and glared at me; again his body tensed with a wild power. I knew that if he chose to break free, I couldn't stop him. Could I hold a tiger? And yet, for a moment, I held him with my eyes, and that was enough.

'So, Val,' he said to me. 'So.'

As I let go of him, Liljana came up to Kane and poked her finger into his chest. Her pretty face had now grown as hard as Kane's. In her most domineering voice, she told him, 'Don't you speak to Alphanderry like that! We're all brothers and sisters here – or have you forgotten?'

Her admonishment so startled Kane that he took a step backward and then another as her finger again drove into his chest. Her zeal to defend Alphanderry completely overwhelmed Kane's considerable anger. I was reminded of something I had once seen near Lake Waskaw, when a wolverine, through the sheer force of ferocity, had driven off a much larger mountain lion trying to take one of her cubs.

'Brothers and sisters of the earth!' Liljana said again. 'If we fight with each other, how can we ever hope to find the Lightstone?'

Kane looked to me for rescue as he took yet another step back-ward. But for a few moments I said nothing while Liljana scolded him.

'All right, all right!' Kane said at last, smiling at her. 'I'll mind my mouth, if it bothers you so. But something must be done about, what happened.'

He nodded toward Alphanderry, then looked at me. 'What befalls a Valari warrior caught sleeping on watch in the land of the enemy?'

Alphanderry ran his hand through his curly hair as he looked about the dark forest.

'But there are no enemies here!'

You don't know that!' Kane snapped.

'Well, at least I don't see any enemies,' Alphanderry said, looking Kane straight in the eye.

I thought that the usual punishment meted out to overly sleepy warriors – being made to stay awake all night for three successive nights beneath the stinging points of his companions' kalamas – would do Alphanderry little good. He would likely wind up looking like a practice target – and then fall asleep in exhaustion during his next watch anyway. And yet something had to be done.

'It's not upon me to punish anyone,' I said. 'Even so, if everyone is agreeable, we might change the watches.'

I turned to Kane and said, 'You never have trouble staying awake, no matter the hour of your watch, do you?'

'Never,' he growled. 'I've had to learn how to stay awake.'

'Then perhaps you can teach this wakefulness to our friend. For the next few nights, why doesn't Alphanderry join you on your watch?'

Truly, it was my hope that, like a stick held to a furnace, Alphanderry might ignite with something of Kane's fire.

'Join me, eh?' Kane growled again. 'Punish him, I said, not me.'

With a bow of his head, Alphanderry accepted what passed for punishment. Then he smiled at Kane and said, 'I haven't had Flick's company to help keep me awake, but I'd welcome yours.'

The yearning in his voice as he spoke of Flick must have touched something deep in Kane, for he suddenly scowled and muttered, 'So, I suppose you can't see him, can you?'

Alphanderry shook his head sadly then said, 'I'm Sorry I fell asleep – it won't happen again.' The utter sincerity in his voice disarmed Kane. It seemed impossible for anyone to remain angry with Alphandeny very long, for he was as hard to pin down as quicksilver.

'All right join me then,' Kane said. 'But if I catch you sleeping on my watch, I'll roast your feet in the fire!'

True to his word, Alphanderry kept wide awake during his watches after that. But his attention slipped from other chores that should have been simple: set him loose in the woods to find some raspberries, and he might wander about for hours before returning with a handful of pretty flowers instead. It was as if he couldn't hold on to anything in this world for very long. He was a dreamy man meant for the stars and for magical lands told of in songs.

It surprised us all that he and Kane became friends. None of us saw very much of what passed between them during Kane's nightly watches. But it seemed certain that Alphanderry was in awe of Kane's strength and immense vitality. He hinted that Kane was teaching him tricks to stay awake: walking, watching the stars, keeping the eyes moving, and composing music inside his head. As for Kane, he listened closely whenever Alphanderry sang his songs, especially those whose words were of a strange and beautiful language that we had never heard before. And it gladdened all our hearts to hear Kane laughing in Alphanderry's presence – more and more frequently, it seemed, with every day and night that passed.

On the morning following Alphanderry's failed watch, the rain finally stopped, and we had our first glimpse of the Blue Mountains. Through a break in the trees, we beheld their dark oudine above the haze hanging over the world. They were old mountains, low to the earth with rounded peaks. But in that moment, I thought they were the most beautiful and magnificent mountains I had ever seen. The sight of them made me want to forget Alphanderry's flaws; it was he, after all, who had caused us to journey these many miles. Another two days' march, perhaps, would bring us to the ancient Tur-Solonu. And if the words that Alphanderry had heard in the Caves of Senta proved true, there, among the ancient ruins, we would find at last the golden cup that held so many of our hopes and dreams.