Andre Norton - The Key of the Keplian

But in the end, all bloodlines fail. She was the last in direct descent of the daughter who had gone strange voyaging. Eleeri felt horror strike at her. They had not forced her life into this pattern?

*It was none of our doing, far-daughter. Your life was always yours to live. We did but open the gate when we felt the call of your spirit.*

“How? I thought your power was all gone.”

The answer flowed through her; tears sprang to her eyes. They had used that which had remained to them. Down the centuries it had kept their bodies intact, their spirits within them, waiting. Sensing her need, they had given all to this, their far-daughter. Even as they spoke, the bodies crumbled slowly, inexorably. Spirits strained to leave. But they had gathered the rags of power, held to await her arrival. Now she was here; she knew.

*Find our far-son, free him, take this land. It goes to those of our blood to be held for the Light. Bring back the kin-friends to that Light also.*

From the woman a question. Warm laughter reached out to surround her.

*Mare, stallion, come forward.* They did so, trembling. *Far-daughter, look now at your kin-sister, your kin-brothers.* Behind them the stallion reared high, hooves silver-shod. The Keplians lifted their heads to watch—and sapphire eyes blazed. Eleeri stared in wonder.

Amusement. *Darkness cannot live where love and Light are.* The voices pealed up in a great cry of triumph. *Behold, the kin-friends have returned to the Light. Our daughter’s blood is come again. Great Ones, let us go now to be at peace.*

Tears flooded down Eleeri’s face. “Don’t go, not yet. I haven’t even had time to know you.”

*To all things there is a time. We have waited so long to be free. Would you bind us still?*

She bowed her head. “No,” she said softly. “No, go in peace and I’ll find Romar. I’ll free him, too; half of this place is his. But”—she looked down at the golden stone—“how can I? I don’t have the sort of power you had.”

Love reached out. *You are our far-daughter; you will find the way. As for friends, two you have here who will fight beside you. Another who will bear you for a little. Beyond this place I think others wait. Accept them, lead them.* A hand lifted to touch her own. *May rich feasting come from this, far-daughter. Food for mind and spirit and heart. Our love to you always.*

The hand slipped away. Both faces smiled at her for an instant. Then the fires blazed up to surround them. They died—to reveal an empty cradle. Eleeri bowed her head and wept silently. Now she was alone.

Two warm noses thrust indignantly at her so that she staggered. Sudden happiness flooded her. No, she was wrong; not alone, never alone. She flung her arms about the mare, then the stallion.

“I know . . . I knew them for such a little time, but I think I’ll always miss them.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Well, life goes on. We have to find Romar, free him, tell him he owns half of all this, and make Mayrin and Jerrany happy.”

She laughed. “A mere nothing. I can do it all tomorrow.”

A hoof struck stone; sparks flickered from that blow so that she stared. Behind the dais the pendant stallion remained, his eyes glowing softly at her. What had they said? Ah, yes. Another who will bear you for a little while . She approached him slowly and his nose came down to touch her enquiring fingers. But when she would have touched his mind, there was only blankness there. She drew back. Surely he could not be evil, not here in this place. Not one who had been kin-friend to the lord and lady?

Denial. She nodded. Then it must be that he simply wished to stand apart.

Agreement. Along with that came a feeling. That he must do this, that they might not share minds in friendship as he, too, would have wished.

She smoothed the tumbled mane. She would trust him. She would not intrude on his thoughts save when he offered them. The mare thrust in beside her, her son at her heels. The pendant stallion moved back. Idly Eleeri wondered if he had a name.

*No longer—call me what you will.*

Eleeri grinned. “Then I name you Pehnane—‘Wasp’ in my tongue. Let us go forth to sting our enemies.”

*Even so, far-kin.*

Hooves followed her as she paced back through the mist. Once again it parted slowly before her, closed in behind. She had gone in knowing so little, been given such a treasure to fill her mind and heart. Would she be able to return, she wondered, or would the place sink now into ruins and dust behind her? She shrugged. What did it matter? The canyon, the keep, they were hers. Let the lord and lady hold the place in the mist. She would not intrude. From her friends she felt approval of that decision. Even Pehnane touched her lightly with agreement. Good. Then that was the way it should be.

She stepped from the last curls of mist and strode over the turf. The Keplian mares and foals parted for her as astonishment exploded in their minds. She whirled to find them staring at Tharna, Hylan, and the magnificent Keplian who followed. Hiding a smile, she left her friends to explain. The day had been exhausting; she would relish a dip in the stream, then food and drink. In the morning she would ride again. They should scout the boundaries of the Gray Ones’ lands, see how far the evil had moved.

But the night brought Romar to her. His eyes more desperate, face more worn, his body lean to the point of gauntness. Hands traced the sign, his voice came to her faintly.

“If you cannot aid me soon, it will be too late.”

“I know where you are,” she said softly. “What I don’t know is how to free you safely. I could not bear to see those I love dead in this attempt.”

“I will tell you of a door. My master—” his face twisted in pain and anger, “plans to move against the Light soon. You could act then.”

“How much attention would it call to us?” Eleeri asked practically. A back door was all very well, but not if it had alarm bells.

“I may be able to turn his attention aside while you enter. He is stronger than I, but his power is not so much greater. That is why he uses me. Once inside, if you attack him and I also strive to be free, it may be that we will succeed.” He said no more, but she understood the thought. If he died in the struggle, he would still be free; it was merely a different path. But what of her? She had no wish to die facing something of the Dark. Yet—yet this was Mayrin’s brother, Jerrany’s friend. Her far-kin—and she had promised the lord and lady she would try.

She gathered all her determination. “Show me all you can.”

He did not speak for a long minute, but the look in his eyes was enough. Then he spoke quietly and swiftly. The door was one unregarded. Once it had been a secret, but to Romar, linked with the Dark mind which used him, knowledge had come. To use can be to let slip secrets as well, and so it had proved. With the right word it would open. Now that word was hers.

Along with it came warnings: she and whoever entered with her would be tested. She must remember that much would be illusion, but perhaps not all. Outside there would be no posted guards, although the Gray Ones roamed the area. Inside the tower there were those who served the Dark. Not all their weapons would be obvious. All the time the sign which hung in the air between them faded. Finally he had given her all he knew.

“It will take power to open,” he warned. “I cannot say how much. Go to Mayrin and Jerrany, beg their aid.” He sighed. “I would not draw them in as I have you, but without help, the Dark grows. I fear for them even if they cannot help.”

Eleeri lifted her hand to trace the sign. “I swear. I will tell them of you, and ask them to ride with me to lend what they have. I have little doubt they will come. Always they have sought you, fearing lest you had been slain.”