Andre Norton - The Key of the Keplian

Eleeri retired to her bedding, her mind still mulling over the recent events. One thing she had not mentioned to her friends still troubled her. She was sure the hunter had been of Mayrin and Jerrany’s race. His face, too, had been thin with strong cheekbones, his body lean in the rough clothing. The wide-open eyes had been the gray of slate, and the hair black. For one horrified moment as she first saw him, her heart had slowed, then raced in fear. He had looked so like Romar. As she looked again, she had seen it was merely the likeness of kind, not kin. But that spasm of fear had chilled her. Even now as she recalled it, she shivered.

Her mind turned over this knowledge. Romar wasn’t kin to her. She owed him no kinswoman’s duty. But he had become a friend—and more?

She had known when she looked upon the dead hunter’s face that she loved Romar. Through the long nights of talking, of sharing hopes, beliefs, and dreams, she had grown to feel for him. But was that sufficient for her to risk all she was in an effort to free him? Slowly she decided it was.

She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the stone ceiling. This new land had given her so much, perhaps now it would give her love. Her thoughts wandered to Far Traveler, who had shown her the path. She had taken it knowing that she could never return. Yet so far she had held back from a full commitment.

Gradually she made her decisions. She would need power to free Romar, help from others. The help was easy. Mayrin and Jerrany would aid as soon as she spoke of Romar’s captivity and danger. It was time and past time she shared all she knew of that with them. But the power . . .

Still, the powers here had answered her in minor ways. She shook herself free of the blankets, walking steadily down toward the entrance to the canyon. There she placed her hand flat against the runes.

“I am not of your kind,” she said slowly, thinking as she spoke. “But I go to do battle against the evils you guard us from. I am not of your blood, but I stand with those who are against the Dark. I am not of your world, but I choose to be now, to remain for good or ill as it befalls me.”

She waited, watching as the runes showed a little more clearly. Their light grew, gathering as a soft mist sheening against the dark rock walls. Her fingers traced the signs of ward and guard.

“Show me what I should do.”

The answer came in a blaze of light so great she shut her eyes against the flame. Power seemed to pool about her, to gather like a shawl across her shoulders, to drip jewellike from her hands. Then the light shifted. Before her a great arrow stretched down the canyon. It met the golden mist and a path opened. Eleeri bowed her head. A question asked—and answered. She would follow the path the power showed. She began to walk toward the mist.

From either side of her Tharna and Hylan came then, to walk with her. From their minds she received no fear, only a growing sense of excitement and anticipation. No fear, only the belief that beyond hope they were about to receive a greatly longed-for gift. They reached the edge of the mist and paced slowly down the path the power had carved from it. Deeper and deeper they plunged. Behind them there was no sight of the canyon, only the mist closing in. It felt strange, Eleeri thought. As if she walked in a place that was not quite of this world.

Shadows formed, to vanish as the three came near. Then one came which grew more solid as they closed in. Eleeri strained her eyes but kept to the steady unhurried walk. There was nothing to fear, nor would she show any, for the power might take that as an insult. Beside her the Keplians moved, hooves almost spurning the ground. In them the joyous sense of hope lifted higher. Before them the mist darkened, developing edges, columns, a peaked roof carved with hanging vines and laden with fruit. The mist drew back then as they paused to stare in awe.

A sense of warmth gathered about them, a greeting to friends arrived. The Keplians waited as Eleeri moved; surely the welcome was not for them also, children of shade and shadow? A shaft of the golden mist curled out, drifting to encircle them like a lover’s arms. They were welcome, thrice welcome, let them enter where others of their kind had once stood in friendship with those who dwelled here. Eleeri felt the surge of joy from her friends, and her own mind echoed it. She slowed her pace so that her friends might walk beside her once more.

By now the entire structure was clear, and they halted to study it. Unused to buildings, the Keplians had nothing to compare it with save the Dark Tower and the ancient keep in their canyon. Eleeri had seen far more in reality and in pictures. The building reminded her of the many photographs she had seen of the ruined temples of ancient Greece. It was not one of them, but had the same air—great age and a lost power hung over it. It was built from massive blocks of some warm honey-colored stone. Within the stone, silvery streaks laced the rock—the colors of the mist that had finally parted to let them in, Eleeri noted.

Was this place even here? Could the mist have become solid to show them something which in truth was not there? Her eyes came back to the entrance. She drifted forward to touch the steps. Under her fingers the stone appeared real. She lifted her head. She’d been wondering what lay behind the mist ever since she came to the canyon. Now she would find out and no fear would stay her steps. She trod forward boldly, past a great bronze door cast with detailed images, although she would have loved to stop there, to peer at the tiny perfect scenes she saw out of the corners of her eyes.

Tharna and Hylan flanked her as she entered the great hall. It seemed to stretch forever to her startled gaze. Mist curled and lingered here so that she could not see the walls or far end of the hall. Light shimmered from that mist, brightening as they walked forward. It pooled about two oblong shapes that were raised above the floor on a small dais.

Slowly the three approached. Was this right? Were they called to this place? The welcome grew again: reassurance, friendship. This was very right, let them come forward, let them see and know.

Around Eleeri’s throat the pendant became heavier. Her hands went up to lift it away. As it ceased to touch her flesh, mist gathered there also; the weight fled but before her stood the pendant’s Keplian once more. The perfect stallion, eyes gleaming sapphire in the mist’s light. He reached out to touch noses with each of her companion Keplians and the woman caught the wonder that filled them. Her own hands went out, not to the stallion but to her friends. Minds met with power. Around them light shone brighter and from the dais came a great cry that echoed in their minds.

*Be welcome. Come to us and be welcomed, blood of our blood, children of kin.*

Eleeri allowed her feet to drift forward, up the seven shallow wide steps of the dais, until she could see what lay there within the cradle of the golden stone. The stallion of the pendant, too, had moved. He mounted the steps on the other side of her and reared high. Not a threat, Eleeri noted, more as if he paid homage to those who lay there. She laid one hand on the stone bed, felt the power which ran here. Whoever these had been, they had been Great Ones.

*Ah, for that we thank you, blood of our blood, but none were so great as to be invincible, be they of Light or of Dark.*

Involuntarily she stepped back. They Great Ones were not dead. Unless—unless in this land the dead could still speak? Gentle amusement met that thought. Encouraged, she moved back to look down at the two who lay there as if asleep.

She stared, blinked, and stared again. If you took from them the clothing, the fine jewels, the aura of power that yet lifted about them, the woman looked like—she had seen her own face in a mirror often enough. They might have been mother and daughter. The man, too, looked familiar. She studied the lines on the thin face, the weariness at mouth corners. Ka-dih, but he was Romar! Romar as he might appear worn thin with living and twenty years older. She cried out then.