The Lightstone

Chapter 28

As the chasm of disaffection between me and Maram seemed to widen with each passing hour, neither of us got much sleep that night – nor did any of the others. And the next morning, after a breakfast of fruit and cream which I hardly touched, we knocked at the great temple doors only to be turned away. The women who guarded them informed us that we could not pass within until we had been purified.

'And how does one become purified?' I asked her testily.

'Oh, by the Lady, of course,' she told us.

'But which Lady, then? Lady Nimaiu or Lady Ea?'

The guards – if that was the right word for them – giggled at this question as if it had been a child who asked it. Then the first of the women said, 'Only Lady Ea can purify, with her tears. But the Lady Nimaiu is her hands, and it is to her that you must go if you truly wish for purification.'

'We truly wish it,' I said, speaking through Liljana for all of us. 'May we see Lady Nimaiu that we may discuss this?'

As it happened, Lady Nimaiu would not see us that morning. She was busy attending to matters of great importance, the guard told us, and so we would have to wait.

'Ah, wait,' Maram muttered after the guards had closed the doors on us. 'How long can we wait? Two more days, and then the ship sails whether we're aboard her or not.'

'Then we'll wait two days, if we must,' I said. 'In the meantime, why don't we explore the island? The Lightstone might be anywhere.'

It was the Island of the Swans and the Maiians themselves that healed the wound opened by the shards of the glass I had broken. Maram and I went our own ways then, as did the others, each of us choosing a separate path through the city streets or among the fields and woods surrounding the lake. It surprised me that the Maiians allowed us to go about their land bearing our shaida weapons. But it was not their way to disallow anyone simple freedoms that even their children enjoyed. That they trusted us not to use our weapons touched me deeply. They had no fear of us, only a sweet and natural compassion for our urge to seek that which it seemed they already possessed. For the Maii were a contented people. They found their happiness neither in remembrance of the glories of ages past nor in dreams of future redemption, but rather in rock and leaf, wind and flower. The glint of the sun off the marble of their beautiful temple pleased them more than gold; the laughter of their children playing in pasture or field was to them a finer music than even Alphanderry could make. They were wholly wedded to the earth, and took great delight in that marriage.

I spent the morning wandering about the great gardens to the west of the temple.

There, among the oak trees and cherry, where little streams ran through stone-lined channels into the lake, I found a few moments of peace. The gentle wind of that clime, in which summer seemed more like spring, cooled my anger. Many of the Maii worked unobtrusively around me, if efforts eagerly and joyfully undertaken could be called work. I understood that they counted it as a privilege to be chosen for the weeding, seed planting and building of the low stone walls that seemed perfectly to fit the well-tended earth. I watched them dirtying their hands in muck and manure, but they appeared to take no taint or displeasure from such substances. Indeed, the garden was so beautiful that it seemed impossible any ugliness could mar its perfection. It wasn't so much that it wouldn't abide evil; rather that which engendered evil – fear, wrath, hate – was out of place here and best left outside its flowering borders. With the birds piping out their songs of praise to the world, I found myself wanting to put aside my ill feeling for Maram (and for myself), much as I would remove a pair of muddy boots before entering a clean house or divest myself of my armor before sitting down to a family meal.

Although I didn't really expect to find the Lightstone set down into a bed of marigolds or filling with water in one of numerous stone fountains sculpted. out of the earth, I kept an eye out for it all the same. But as the sun climbed toward its zenith and poured its honey-light over leaf and lake, I began to forget why I had come to the Maiians' island. For longings and lust, desires and dreams, also had a hard time taking root in that enchanted soil. For hours I sat drinking in the sight of the many flowers there: the redmaids and buttercups, the lilies and yarrow and roses.

Their incredible fragrance devoured the day. The voluptuousness of the land in this lost valley was so full and sweet that it left little room for otherworldly hungers.

It was late afternoon when I came upon a stone bench perfectly sited for viewing two special trees growing atop a low rise near the garden's northern edge. To my astonishment I saw that they were astors, with their silver bark and golden leaves.

Though not so magnificent as those that grew in the Lokilani's wood, their long, lovely limbs spread out beneath the blue sky as if to embrace it and catch its light.

The fire mountain, just beyond the quiet lake, perfectly framed their shimmering crowns. It came to me then that the transformation of the island into a paradise was not an altering of nature but rather its finest and fullest expression: for what could be more natural than the Maii, the Mother's eyes and hands, happily working their art upon the earth? I realized suddenly that I did not wish to leave them. It was as if 1 had journeyed across the whole length of Ea only to find my real home.

Just as the day's last light was fading from the astors' shield-like leaves, Maram came ambling down the path behind me and hailed me. He walked up to the bench and said, 'I heard you were here.'

I motioned for him to sit down beside me, then nodded toward the astors. 'Do you see them, Maram?'

'Yes, I see them,' he said. Then he sighed and continued, 'I'm sorry for what I said last night. I was a fool.'

'And I was worse than a fool,' I said. 'Will you forgive me?'

'Forgive you? Will you forgive me?'

We embraced then, and the chasm between us suddenly closed as if the earth had knitted itself whole again.

'Have you come across any sign of the Lightstone?' I asked him.

'The Lightstone? Ah, no, no, there's been nothing like that. But I have found love.'

He went on to tell me that he had spent most of the morning trying his wiles upon Lailaiu. But his efforts had seemed only to amuse her. Finally, she had held a finger to his clever lips and then offered herself to him as readily as a grover sharing some of the delicious red cherries that grew so abundantly in the many orchards of the valley.

'I was a fool to think of war when love was so close at hand,' he said. 'Why was I such a fool?'

'Perhaps because you wanted the Lightstone even more.'

'Ah, the Lightstone,' he said. 'Well, there's news as to that. Lady Nimaiu has agreed to our purification, whatever that may be. We're to meet by the lake tomorrow morning. After that I suppose, we can enter the temple and see what is there.'

I returned with Maram to our rooms to join our friends in eating another delicious dinner. The mood at the table was one of quiet exaltation, as if the foods that passed our lips had been imbued with a rare, life-giving quality to be found here and nowhere else. Liljana waxed eloquent as she extolled the island's virtues and reminded us that during the Age of the Mother, nearly every part of Ea was like this.

Alphanderry told of how he had spent the day teaching some of the Maiian children to play his mandolet. And they had taught him many things, not only their songs but the simplicity of their untutored voices, which had brought Alphanderry closer to the one Song that he truly wished to sing. Master Juwain, with Liljana acting as his interpreter, had gone about the city collecting stories of the Maiians' past toward the end of piecing together the puzzle of their origins. He had begun learning their language as well, and after another month, hoped to have it all written down. Atara told us that earlier she had walked halfway up the slopes of the fire mountain in order to get a better look at the island. Now, gazing out the window at the lake with dreamy eyes, she admitted that she never wanted to leave it.

Only Kane seemed untouched by the island's magic. After quaffing down the last of his wine, he paced about the room and paused only to growl out, 'So, it's a pretty paradise the Maiians have made for themselves. But if the Red Dragon ever sends a warship here, it will all be ashes.'

His grim words reminded us of why we had cajoled Captain Kharald into bringing us here. After that, we went to our beds in more somber spirits to get some rest and ready ourselves for the coming day.

The next morning before the sun had quite found its strength, we gathered by the lake's eastern shore. It was a fine, clear day with only a few clouds in the sky. Its almost perfect blueness was reflected in the calm, mirrorlike waters of the lake.

Farther out upon it floated hundreds of swans, their folded wings snowy-white, their long, arched necks as lovely as the curve of the heavens themselves.

Maiians from all over the island had already arrived to witness whatever was to occur there that day. They wore plain white kirtles, and sat about the low shelves of lawn sculpted into the earth along the shore. I had a practiced eye, tutored in battle for taking in large numbers of men, and I counted at least five thousand of them. We stood on the lowest shelf of lawn with this multitude behind us and the lake almost directly in front of us. Only a series of white marble steps, following the contours of the lake's edge and actually leading down into it so that they were half-submerged, stood between us and the lapping waters of the lake itself.

Scarcely ten yards in the direction towards which these steps led, three pillars arose out of the lake's shallows. They seemed the remains of a much greater structure that must have once stood there. Liljana, after speaking in hushed tones to one of the temple attedants standing with us, told us that once the lake had been lower but over the ages had risen as it had filled with the Lady's tears. I understood then that we, too, were to be submerged in the water, and this I dreaded because it looked icy cold.

Soon Lady Nimaiu arrived with her six attendants following closely. The kirtle covering her long, graceful body was as white as the swans and embroidered with red roses. She stood with her back to the lake facing us and the thousands of her people behind us on the lawn. Her strong, clear voice carried out as she addressed us and told us that since we had freely requested to be purified, purification would be freely given.

For this occasion, we had ail donned the flowing white kirtles of the Maii. They were spun of the same downy goat fur as our blankets, and were wonderfully soft. I had stripped myself of my armor, of course, as had Kane. But both of us still wore our swords: he because it was his will to do so, and I because I couldn't leave my soul aside even if it was broken.

What followed then was the simplest of ceremonies. Lady Nimaiu spoke of the sorrows which all must suffer, and which only the Mother's even greater sorrows could wash clean. For many ages, she said, since nearly the beginning of time, the Mother's tears had gathered into this lake that the Maii might taste the bitter pain of the world and rejoice in its splendor upon re-emerging from it.

'For this is why,' she told us, 'we were born in pain from the Mother's womb: we are that we might know joy.'

And with no further words, she led us down the steps in turns into the lake. One by one, she held us beneath its rippling surface. As 1 had feared, the water was very cold. In truth, it was bitter. But a short while later, as we stood yet again on the lawn above the steps, the sun warmed us and poured its golden radiance upon our soaked garments and dripping hair. Its light was incredibly sweet, and as we looked out into the long, green valley, we saw that the world was incredibly beautiful and good.

The Maii sitting on the grass all applauded our feat. In their front ranks, I noticed Piliri, Rhysu and their children smiling at us.

Then Lady Nimaiu came forward and addressed us, saying, 'Only in purification can there be truth, beauty and goodness. And the love from which they flow. Do you still seek these qualities, Sar Valashu Elahad?'

Although she directed this question to me, it was clear that she expected me to speak for all of us. The soft wind just then found its way through the wet kirtle plastered to my body; it seemed as cold and bracing as the lake itself.

'We do,' I said. I sensed that Lady Nimaiu was testing me, or rather calling me to embrace the truth which the lake's waters had set so clearly before me. And so I told her, 'We seek the gold gelstei that is called the Lightstone. We seek the Cup of Heaven that is said to hold these things inside it.'

At this, Maram began moaning; only the presence of Lailaiu as one of the temple attendants quieted him. Liljana was reluctant to translate my words, but I nodded at her to do so, and she did. And then I showed Lady Nimaiu my medallion and explained the meaning of the various symbols cast into it.

'It is good that you've given us the truth so freely,' Lady Nimaiu said, walking among the others of our company to examine their medallions as well. 'Allow me to return the favor: yesterday we consulted with the Sea People. They told us of your reason for coming here, that you seek this shining thing you call a gelstei.'

That the Maii seemed able to speak with the Sea People astonished me, as it did Liljana. She stared at Lady Nimaiu, her hazel eyes full of wonder and envy. She glanced at her figurine and muttered, 'As it was in the Age of the Mother – then they needed no blue gelstei to talk with the whales.'

Although she left this untranslated, Lady Nimaiu seemed to under-stand her all the same. She nodded at her and said, 'But the Sea People know nothing of a golden cup. Nor do we. There is none such on this island.'

I sensed that Lady Nimaiu was telling the truth, at least so far as she knew it. The disappointment I felt then was a palpable thing, as if an acid fruit had lodged in my throat. It didn't help that my friends' dashed hopes flooded into me as well.

'Perhaps the Lightstone was hidden here long ago,' I said, 'and the Maii have forgotten it.'

I couldn't help glance at the temple, so great was the bitterness burning inside me.

'I can tell you that you won't find it there,' she said. 'But now you are free to look, in the temple or anywhere else that you please.'

This news was small consolation, as little satisfying as a promise of delectable foods given a hungry man in place of a meal. I looked at Atara then, and saw that she, too, had almost abandoned her desire to search the temple. I looked at Maram, now lost in the depths of Lailaiu's eyes, and at Master Juwain, Liljana and Alphanderry. I saw Kane drop his gaze and scowl his frustration at the earth. We had journeyed too long and too far, I thought, and now it seemed that our quest must end here, on this lost island at the edge of the world.

'Now that you have tasted the Mother's tears,' Lady Nimaiu went on, 'you also are free to remain with us as long as you'd like. We would like this, that you live with the Maii forever.'

I had no power of mindspeaking, but I knew that my friends were all thinking of the vow we had made that our seeking the Lightstone would not end unless illness, wounds or death struck us down first. But couldn't the body, while not exactly stricken, grow exhausted of a succession of life-draining wounds? Couldn't the soul sicken? Couldn't hope die?

Lady Nimaiu glanced back at forth between Atara and me. Her face was as warm as the sun itself as she told us, 'You may make your homes here; you may marry, if that pleases you, either among us or each other. The Mother would smile upon your children and call them Maii.'

Atara looked at me, and the longing in her eyes hurt worse than any poison or sword that had been put into my flesh.

'Ah, I think I understand,' Maram murmured, still gazing at Lailaiu. 'I think perhaps the Aryans did come here to conquer. And the Maiians conquered them.'

For a while we stood there in silence, which spread to the crowds of Maii behind us.

Now the sun, higher in the sky, was working to dry our garments. Out on the lake, the many swans there floated peacefully beneath its showers of light.

'Perhaps the golden cup is on this island, somewhere,' Alphanderry said. 'I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life here searching for it.'

'Nor I,' Master Juwain said. His clear gray eyes were now full of the sky's puffy white clouds.

'Nor I,' Liljana admitted.

Kane, whom I expected to upbraid us for our faithlessness, lost his fathomless gaze in the blue waters of the lake.

'Atara,' I said, turning toward her, 'we have made vows. And you more than the rest of us.'

I expected this noble woman to affirm that vows must always be fulfilled. Instead she said, 'A vow is a sacred thing. But life is more sacred still. And I've never felt so alive as I do here.'

'Have you seen us remaining here, then?'

I was sure that she would confuse me with some sort of scryers' talk as to the different paths into the future tangling like the limbs of a thornbush. Instead, she surprised me, saying, 'Yes, I have. If we chose this, our lives would be long and happy, blessed with many children. The rest of Ea might go up in flames, but here there would be only peace.'

Only peace, I thought looking out into the green pastures of the valley.

Wasn't peace what I truly wanted? Wasn't this really why I had set out to find the Lightstone in the first place?

I noticed Lady Nimaiu studying my face, but I feared that I wouldn't find the answers I sought in her soft, dark eyes which reminded me so much of my mother's.

I didn't know where to look to find the wisdom that would decide my path. And then I chanced to see Flick glittering above the waters of the lake. His form was that of a whirling, white spiral of stars.

'Our children,' I said to Atara, 'would know peace here, yes?'

'Yes, they would,' she assured me.

'But what of their children? And their children's children? How long before the Dragon finds this island and destroys everything here?'

'A hundred years, perhaps,' Atara said. 'Perhaps a thousand, or perhaps never – I don't know.'

'And what of the rest of Ea?' I asked. 'What of the Wendrush and Alonia and Mesh?'

Atara had no answer for this; she just stared at me with her diamond-clear eyes that opened upon the future.

Then I heard inside myself the undying voice, whispering in fire. The same flame, I knew, burned inside Atara and my other friends.

'I can't remain here,' I told her.

Atara's eyes filled with a terrible sadness. Then she said, 'Nor I.'

'Nor I,' Liljana said, looking at Master Juwain.

'Nor I,' he said as well. 'I'm afraid the Lightstone will be found – if not by us or others who stood with us in Tria, then by the Red Dragon.'

And so it went, each of our company passing the ineffable flame back and forth as we remembered our purpose and reforged our wills to fulfill it. Even Maram broke off gazing at Lailaiu and said, 'I hate to leave this island, but it seems I must.'

I turned to Lady Nimaiu and said, 'Your offer that we may stay here is beyond mere graciousness. But we must continue our quest.'

'To find this gelstei that you call the Lightstone?'

'Yes, the Lightstone,' I said.

'But why would you risk your life for such a thing?'

I heard in her words a question beneath the obvious question, and I sensed that I was somehow being tested again. And so I asked myself for the thousandth time why this golden cup must be found. The answer, I was now certain, lay not in pleasing my father or brothers nor even winning Atara as my wife. As for my being healed of the valarda and the kirax that quickened my gift, what did the sufferings of a single man matter? If only I could find the strength, I would accept all the pain in the world and pass on the Lightstone to one more worthy if that meant such as Meliadus would never be born and evil places like the Vardaloon would never blight the world again.

At last I looked at Lady Nimaiu and said, 'I would find the Lightstone to heal the lands of Ea and make them like yours. I'd fight all the demons of hell that this might be.'

After Liljana had translated this, a sad smile broke upon Lady Nimaiu's face. She bowed her head as if acknowledging the purity of my purpose and finding it distressful even so. And then, as the many people behind us on the lawn began murmuring quiet words of approval, she looked deep into my eyes for a long time.

'You are of the sword,' she finally said to me, glancing down at the hilt of my kalama. 'And so if you must fight you should have a sword to fight with.'

She took my hand then and led me down the steps to the lake's edge. I had no idea what her intentions were; perhaps, I thought she wanted to cleanse me of blood that I must someday spill in pursuit of this dream.

After taking many deep breaths, she suddenly let go my hand. And then she turned to walk down the steps into the water.

'What is she doing?' Maram cried out

I, too, wondered this, as it seemed did everyone else. Many of the Maii stared at Lady Nimaiu as she took one final breath and disappeared into the lake. Their cries of concern told me that this was no part of any purification ceremony they knew.

My heart began beating quickly as if it were I who was holding my breath. I peered into the water and thought that I saw Lady Nimaiu swimming down toward a stone altar covered with silt and swaying with strands of lake moss. But then the mountains moved, casting a glow of fire into the sky and causing the earth to tremble. Gleaming ripples cut the lake's surface making it impossible to see very far into its icy depths.

' Quiwriri Lais Nimaiu?' A young man behind me half-shouted. Now he and many of his people were on their feet pointing at the lake and murmuring, ' Quiwiri Lais Nimaiu?'

The pressure in my chest grew into a pain almost too great to bear. I couldn't move, so keen was the cold in my limbs that froze me to the shore gazing at the deep blue water.

And then, even as the swans suddenly cried out and leapt toward the sky with a great thunder of beating wings, a hand holding a sword broke the lake's surface. A moment later, Lady Nimaiu's face appeared as water streamed from her glistening black hair and she gasped for breath. Her feet found the marble steps, and she climbed them one by one, arising out of the lake while she held the sword high above her.

'The Sword of Flame,' I heard Alphanderry whisper behind me. 'The Sword of Light.'

Although I didn't dare believe that he might be right, I saw that the sword was bright enough to be called that and more. It was long and double-edged like the swords of the Valari; its blade shone more brilliantly than silver, and its edges were so keen they seemed to cut the very rays of the sun.

While all the Maii stood and the temple attendants stirred excitedly, while my friends looked on and Kane's eyes blazed like black coals. Lady Nimaiu approached to give me the sword. My hands closed around a hilt of black jade that was carved with swans and set with seven starlike diamonds; a much larger diamond, cut with many sparkling facets, formed its pommel stone. At the sword's first touch, fire leapt inside me. And something like a numinous flame ran along its silvery blade from the upswept guard to its incredibly sharp point for it seemed suddenly to flare much brighter. I couldn't take my eyes from it or let it go. It was very heavy, as if truly wrought of silver or other noble metal, and yet strangely light, as if the sun itself were filling it with its radiance and drawing it toward the sky. I sliced the air with it a few times to get the feel for wieldingit; its balance, I thought, was perfect. How such a marvelous weapon had come to be kept beneath the waters of the Maii's lake I couldn't imagine.

Now it came time for Lady Nimaiu to tell of this. Having shaken the water from her dripping kirtle and caught her breath, her hand swept out toward the sword as she recounted this story: Long ago in another age, she said, a Maiian fisherman named Elkaiu had cast out his net hoping to catch some of the silver salmon that swim off the coast of their island. But instead his net snagged on something heavy, and he hauled it in to find the silver sword gleaming among the folds of knotted rope. Elkaiu was amazed, not only because he had found an object for which he had no name, but because the sword bore no mark of rust or tarnish even though it had drifted for untold years along the currents of the salty sea. Elkaiu had brought the sword to his Lady, who had sensed that there was a great power in it. She sensed, too, that it had been cast into the sea to be cleansed, and so she had ordered it kept beneath the lake to continue its purification. The Lady had eventually grown old and died, of course, but she had passed on the knowledge of the sword to her successor. And so it had gone, generation after generation for many hundreds of years, the secret of the sword known only to the various Ladies of the Lake who preserved it. Over the centuries, Lady Nimaiu said, there arose a legend that one day the sword's true owner would come to take it away.

'And that must be you, Sar Valashu,'she said as she pointed at my sheathed kalama whose hilt was also carved with swans and stars 'And this sword, as you call it must be the gelstei of which the Sea People told.'

Yes, I thought as I stared at the shimmering wonder of it, yes, it must be.

'The silver gelstei,' Master Juwain said, breathing deeply. 'So this is why we've come here.'

He went on to say that on all of Ea, throughout all the ages, he knew of no greater work of silver gelstei than this sword.

'If,' he said, 'this truly is the Sword of Light.'

For a moment everyone fell silent as they looked at this long blade gleaming in the bright morning sunlight. Kane, who loved good steel almost more than life, seemed to gaze at it the longest and most deeply. And his eyes burned more brightly than anyone else's as he said, 'Alkaladur – so, Alkaladur.'

Here Alphanderry, standing by his side, rested his hand on his shoulder as he sang out:

Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

The Sword of Flame, the Sword of Light,

Which men have named Awakener

From ages dark and dream-dark night.

'What words are these?' Maram asked.

'So, they're from a much longer song telling of how Kalkamesh forged the Bright Sword,' Kane said. 'This was in the time after the First Quest when Morjin had nearly killed Kalkamesh and taken the Lightstone for himself.'

'Do you know the whole song?' Maram asked Alphanderry. 'Will you sing it?'

Alphanderry nodded his head, but then looked at Lady Nimaiu and her attendants who were combing out her tangled hair. It would have been rude for him to sing words that Liljana could have no hope of translating quickly and faithfully enough to be appreciated. But Lady Nimaiu, when apprised of this difficulty, asked Alphanderry to continue. She said that the spirit of the song would come through in his voice, and that was all that mattered. And so she stood smiling encouragingly at Alphanderry as all the Maii turned toward him and he began to sing: When last the Dragon ruled the land,

The ancient warrior came to Mesh.

He sought for vengeance with his hand,

And vengeance bitter burned his flesh.

And yet a finer flame he held,

The sacred spark, aglow, unseen,

In hand and heart it brightly dwelled:

The fire of the Galadin.

He brought this flame into the realm

Of swans and stars and moonlit knolls

Where rivers ran through oak and elm

And diamond warriors called swords souls.

To Godhra thus the warrior came

Beside the ancient silver lake.

By might of mind, by forge and flame,

A sacred sword he vowed to make.

Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

The Sword of Flame, the Sword of Light,

Which men have named Awakener

From ages dark and dream-dark night.

No noble metal, gem or stone -

Its blade of finer substance wrought;

Of essence rare and form unknown.

The secret crystal ever sought.

Silustria, like silver steel,

Like silk, like diamond-frozen light,

Which angel fire has set its seal

And breath of angels polished bright.

Ten years it took to forge, ten years

To shape the crystal, make it whole;

The blade he quenched in blood and tears,

And in its length he left his soul.

A diamond for its pommel stone

Its swan-carved hilt was blackest jade

And set with seven gems that shone:

White diamonds in which starlight played.

Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

The Sword of Truth, the Silver Blade,

Which men have named the Vanquisher

Of bitter lies that men have made.

With Aramesh he rode to war

Upon the Sarburn's blood-drenched field;

He charged with knights tween wood and tor,

His bright avenging sword to wield.

He sought his foe with beating blood,

The Beast who stole the Stone of Light;

Through flashing steel and reddened mud

Pursued him all the day and night.

The silver sword, from starlight formed,

Sought that which formed the stellar light,

And in its presence flared and warmed

Until it blazed a brilliant white.

And there on Sarburn's battle ground,

Among the dying and the dead,

Where lords were killed and kings uncrowned,

The Dragon saw his doom and fled.

Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

The Sword of Sight, the Sword of Fate,

Which men have named the Harbinger

Of death to all who rule by hate.

In Tria thus the Dragon cowed,

Behind its star-flung walls of stone.

The ancient warrior, vengeance vowed,

Pursued him to his dragon throne.

But also came King Aramesh

At ending of the bitter strife,

And there despite his wounded flesh,

In ruth, he spared the Dragon's life.

The King then claimed the golden bowl,

Thus broke their star-blessed amity.

The warrior now with bitter soul:

He cast the sword into the sea.

And there it dwelled beneath the waves,

Through ages new and ages old.

But so it's told in ancient caves:

The silver gelstei seeks the gold.

Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

The ageless blade, immortal sword

Which men have named Deliverer -

To pure of heart will be restored.

Alphanderry fell silent as he stared at my sword; I stared at it, too, as did everyone else gathered around the lake.

Maram slowly nodded his head. Then he looked at Kane and said, 'If Kalkamesh did cast the sword into the sea in his anger at King Aramesh sparing Morjin, then it seems a rare chance that the sea carried it a thousand miles to this island only to be caught in this man Elkaiu's net.'

'Ha, chance,' Kane called out. 'There's much more at work here than mere chance.'

Now Alphanderry asked Liljana to tell the sword's story in the Maiian language, which she did. When she had finished, Lady Nimaiu gazed at the sword for a long while. 'Now I understand why it lay so long beneath the lake – and in the sea perhaps longer. Upon this sword, there must have been much blood.'

Perhaps once there had been, I thought. But now, as I held it up to the sun, the blade's silver surface reflected its light so perfectly that it seemed nothing could ever stain it or mar its beauty.

Master Juwain, whose mind turned over thoughts more times than the wind tossing about a leaf, nodded his bald head toward the sword and said, 'This must be the Awakener told of in the song. But we must be sure that it is before Val claims it as his own.'

'But, sir, how can we be any more sure than we are?' Maram asked.

'Well, there is the test to be made,' Master Juwain said. 'If it is truly of silustria and not some lesser gelstei or alloy, it will pass this test.'

'What test?' I asked him sharply.

'The silver gelstei is said to be very hard – harder than any stone save the Lightstone itself.'

He motioned for me to hold the sword with its blade flat to the earth so that he could get a better look at it. 'The sea carried it a thousand miles across its rocks and sands.

Did they make many scratches? Do you see any mark upon it?'

I turned the sword over and over, trying to detect on its gleaming blade the faintest featherstroke of a line or scratch. But it was as unmarked as the surface of a still mountain lake.

'Hard is silustria – harder than adamant,' Master Juwain said as he looked at the two sparkling stones of my knight's ring. 'Why don't you use these diamonds to try to scratch this blade?'

Again I looked at the sword's wondrous finish. I no more wanted to scratch it than I did the lens of my eye.

'It must be tested, Val. It must be known.'

Yes, I thought, it must be. And so, making a fist, I touched the diamonds to the blade and drew them in a small arc across it near the hilt. The silver remained untouched. Now I singled out one of the stones and positioned it precisely; I found a point where three of its facets came together and pressed it as hard as I could against the silver, all the while trying to dig and drag the diamond down the entire length of the sword. But it slid off like light from a mirror and left not the slightest mark.

'Alkaladur,' Master Juwain said reverently. 'It is the Bright Sword.'

Now that our ceremony was completed, many of the Maii came down to congratulate us and get a better glimpse of this miraculous sword that had lain in their lake for so long unknown to them. Although they craned their necks to see it, none tried to touch it, nor would I have let them if they had.

'There are lines from the song I would like to understand better,' Maram said as he came up by my side. 'What does it mean that the silver gelstei seeks the gold?'

'Hmmph, that should be clear,' Atara said. 'Weren't you listening to what Alphanderry said?'

Her eyes fixed on the sword as she sang out:

The silver sword, from starlight formed,

Sought that which formed the stellar light,

And in its presence flared and warmed

Until it blazed a brilliant white.

'Yes, I see,' Master Juwain said, rubbing his shiny pate. 'The lines tell truly. Some believe that the Lightstone, far from merely coming from the stars, is the source of their light. It is known that the silver gelstei was first sought in an attempt to forge the gold. And so it has a deep resonance with it. It's said to love the Lightstone as a mirror does the sun. But whether it flares in its presence as the song has it, I do not know.'

'Why don't we put that to the test?' Kane growled out.

'An excellent idea,' Master Juwain said. 'But how? I believe that the Sea People also told truly: there was a great gelstei on this island. But not the lightstone, it seems.'

I, too, believed what the great whales had said. But I turned to look at the temple even so.

'Why don't you point the sword toward it?' Kane said to me.

I did as he suggested, extending the sword's point directly toward the temple's pillars behind us to the south. But the silver blade, while marvelously full of light, seemed not to brighten even slightly.

'It's not there,' Maram muttered. 'I don't think it's there.'

We all fell silent then, and Liljana took this opportunity to explain our efforts to Lady Nimaiu and the Maiians. And then Master Juwain, still gazing at the sword as he scratched his head, told me, 'It might help if you meditated, Val. This, too, is said of the silustria.' He recited:

To use the silver stone.

The soul must dwell alone;

The mind must be clear,

Unclouded by fear.

As I stood there gazing at the reflection of my dark eyes in the sword's polished contours, I remembered what Master Juwain had once taught me about the silver geistei: that it was the stone of the soul and therefore of the mind which arose out of it. At the moment, with thousands of people staring at me and this unlooked-for blade catching the bright morning sunlight, my mind was anything but clear.

'Why don't you try the seventh light meditation?' Master Juwain suggested.

And so I did. With the bees buzzing in the flower beds down by the lake to the west, I closed my eyes and envisioned a perfect diamond floating in the air. This diamond was just myself. Nothing could mar its incredibly hard substance – certainly not my fear of failing to gain the Lightstone. It was cut with thousands of facets, each one of which let in the sun's rays with perfect clarity, there to gather in its starlike heart: with a brilliant fire that grew brighter and brighter and…

'Well, it seems there's nothing.' -Master Juwain said, his voice coming as from far away. 'Nothing at all.'

I opened my eyes to find the blade unchanged.

'It seems the Lightsone really is'nt on this island,' Maram said. And then he fell despondent and muttered, 'Ah, perhaps it's nowhere perhaps your brothers were right that it's been destroyed '

'No, it can't have been,' I said. 'I can almost feel it, Maram. I know it exists, somewhere on Ea.'

And with that, I held the image of the diamond inside myself again even as I held the sword out toward the Garden of Life to the west. But still its blade grew no brighter.

'Again, Val,' Kane encouraged me. 'Try a different direction.'

I slowly nodded my head. And then I lifted the sword toward the smoking mountain to the north, with as little result.

'Again, Val, again.'

Now I lightened my grip around the swan-carved hilt so that the seven diamonds set into the jade there wouldn't cut my hands so painfully. Then I pointed this sword that men had named Awakener toward that part of the world where the Morning Star arises in the east

'It flares!' Kane called out suddenly. 'Do you see how it flares?'

It wasn't enough, I sensed, merely to clear my mind. And so I opened my heart to Alkaladur as I might to my brothers in a rare moment of trust. And the fire there suddenly blazed hotter, both purifying and reforging the secret sword that I had carried inside myself since my birth. I felt the two swords, the inner and outer, resonate like perfectly tuned crystals chiming out harmonies older than time. It was as if they each quickened each other's essence, aligning with each other, a fiery light passing back and forth, down the length of the sword, up and down the length of my spine and then out through my heart along the line of my arms held pointed out away from me and into Alkaladur.

'It flares!' Kane shouted. 'It flares!'

I opened my eyes to see the silver sword glowing faintly as from a light within. When my arms trembled and the sword's point wavered from slightly south of due east, so did its light.

'So, the Lightstone lies somewhere east of us,' Kane said. 'But it seems it's still faraway.'

To the east of us, I thought, lay the Dragon Channel, Surrapam and the great Crescent Mountains. And farther: Eanna, Yarkona and the ancient library at Khaisham. And beyond that, the even greater White Mountains of Sakai and the plains of the Wendrush. And finally, the Morning Mountains of Mesh.

The Maiians, who had witnessed glories of the earth before but never one like this, gathered around gazing at my sword in wonder. After Liljana had explained to Lady Nimaiu about the silver gelstei, she nodded her head and smiled at me, saying, 'It would seem, Sar Valashu, that you won't leave our island with empty hands.'

'Yes, Lady Nimaiu,' I told her, 'and thanks to you.'

'But you still must leave, mustn't you?'

I looked at Atara and Kane and the others of our company, then turned back to her and said, 'Yes, we must.'

'But first, you'll share a meal with us, won't you?'

I glanced up at the sun, now high in the sky. The Snowy Owl would be sailing tomorrow on the morning tide.

'Yes,' I said, 'we'd be honored to dine with you.'

As the Maii began walking off toward the temple and the feast to be held there, she embraced me warmly. Then she touched her wounded finger to Alkaladur's blade and looked at me with her bright, black eyes.

It came time for me put away my new sword. But first I had to draw forth my old one. This I did, and I stared at the pieces of it with a great sadness in my heart. But there was also great joy there, too, and with Lady Nimaiu's permission, I flung the pieces of my broken kalama far out into the lake. They sank into its dark blue depths without a trace. Then I slid Alkaladur into the sheath. It fit perfectly. Tomorrow, I thought, as I rested my hand on its swan-carved hilt, we would journey east, toward the rising sun.