Andre Norton - The Key of the Keplian

They passed over the river high up on the lower hills. There they camped, dressing each other’s wounds while water boiled and stew simmered.

The mares climbed their trail painfully. But the canyon welcomed them back as did their foals and friends. Only two of the babies stood bereft, whimpering their sorrow and loneliness. Other mares gathered them in. At the entrance, runes shifted into light. Full circle was achieved, and Keplian mares and foals stared at each other, wonder in bright blue eyes.

In the tower, that which dwelled within gathered its power. Enemies were inside. They had murdered its servant. But they should not prevail.

Eleeri ran up a flight of steps to face a great bronze door wrought with many panels. Each held figures which seemed to move slowly, but she had no time for wonders. Her hands leaped out to fling open the last barricade. Her friends stood shoulder to shoulder as she trod boldly in over the stone sill. A circle of chairs filled the far side of the room. Within them lolled six figures. One by one each raised its head to meet the eyes of those who stood in the doorway. Six Romars leaned forward, hope brightening their faces.

Eleeri halted, eyes wide in sudden fury. Even now, even at the last, the enemy would test them. She considered. Behind her Jerrany stirred.

“What can we use to show the truth?”

“Me,” his wife snapped. “Romar’s my brother. I’ll know which is the true man.”

Eleeri nodded. “But what if they all are?” she questioned slowly. “Would it not be a fine trick to divide his spirit among them?”

That thought held them motionless in the doorway. If Eleeri was right, then to slay any of the Romars would be to lose a portion of all that made him human.

What could help them now? Eleeri listed the possibilities in her mind. The clay presently making an uncomfortable lump at her belt was to be used—but not yet. In the keep she had realized its capabilities. In his solitude Cynan had delved deep into some of the more arcane aids to magic, and passed them along to his eager pupil. But the clay was for later, as was the crystal from the Lady of the Green Silences. But there remained the gift of Light.

She turned to study Mayrin and Jerrany. Could they now use the Light they had been given? She spoke to her friends quietly, their faces brightening as they listened. Then it was Mayrin who marched forward. She put out her hands to clasp those of the first figure in line. Around those clasped hands flared a glow.

The figure keened its agony, dissolving into a heap of thick clay dust. Mayrin moved on to the second as it shrank back. To no avail. She seized its hands in turn so that it shrieked and crumbled, even as the light flamed about them. Then the third—but then Eleeri called her back. With that last the flare of light had been almost gone. To risk a fourth might be dangerous. It was Jerrany’s turn and he strode to the fourth figure, hands leaping out to seize as light flamed once more.

The figure crumbled, as did the fifth and sixth. The friends stared at each other over the heaps of clay dust.

“He wasn’t any of them,” Mayrin wailed. “Why the illusion?”

“To keep us occupied,” Jerrany said grimly. “All we’ve seen so far has been illusion, using power drained from Romar, I suspect. If this Dark lord wastes too much, he may have none of his own. Perhaps he’s delaying us, hoping to snare us in illusion or to escape before we reach Romar.” His face set hard, lips thinning purposefully. “Let us go!”

They went quickly now, trotting down the passage. Behind them the clay dust stirred into nothingness. Eleeri’s guess had been right. Only evil had been affected by the touch of Light. Had Romar’s spirit been within any of the bodies, it would simply have been freed to return to his true body. But now the power given them by her far-kin in the tower deeps was exhausted.

Eleeri and Mayrin followed Jerrany. He had had enough of these childish games. Somewhere within this place his shield-brother was being tormented, used, and drained. He would find him, free him, return with him to their home, and that which dwelled here. His teeth showed in a savage grin; whatever the outcome, the dweller in Darkness was going to regret all this.

Behind him Mayrin gasped. “Wait, wait!”

He slowed so she might catch up. “Jerrany, Eleeri thinks we are being drawn again in the wrong direction.”

Rage flooded him. That female, always she interfered. If it hadn’t been for her example, Mayrin might not have insisted on coming. It was Eleeri who had risked his wife, Eleeri who had tricked them here to where evil might take them. Eleeri . . . His face twisted into terrible lines of hatred and he sprang. But the woman had seen the growing madness in the eyes that watched her as he halted. She sprang back, dagger flicking from the sheath. He stumbled and before he could recover, the blade touched flat across his forehead.

Jerrany groaned as pain slashed through his mind. Then his eyes cleared. “What have I done? Oh, gods, Eleeri, I’m sorry.”

She held out the silver dagger. Now it glowed, a soft luminous light that soothed and comforted.

“Take this into your hand and pray to the Light.”

He took out his own dagger as she spoke, taking hers in his left hand. Then he raised them to lay along his temples. The points came together to form two sides of a triangle, and as his eyes shut, light leaped from the juncture. Mayrin kept silence until his eyes opened again. Then she waved to where a thin blade of light stretched before them.

“I think you are forgiven.”

“A signal?” He glanced shamefacedly at Eleeri. “I beg your forgiveness. I was angry at what this thing has done to my shield-brother. With that anger it seems I gave a foothold to evil. It then twisted my mind so that it seemed it was you I should be angry at.”

Eleeri had been angered at his attack, but she had wit enough to understand. This was another attempt by their enemy to divide their strength. If she had no forgiveness, then it would be she who weakened them now.

She stretched out a hand, taking his fingers in a gentle clasp. “I understand that; it was not your fault. We are all here to free one we care about.” His eyes searched hers and narrowed in sudden interest. He said nothing, but she could see he wondered. Her head came up a little in pride. If she had begun to care for Romar, what was that to him?

She hid a smile. Begun to care was one way to put it. In truth, she would have Romar free of the tower or die in the attempt. That was more than mere caring, but now was not the time to speak of it. Let him be won free first, then let her find he felt the same way. After that, they could speak of a future.

The beam of light showed the way for a short space before it faded. An attempt to revive it failed. They clustered in the center of the passage before Mayrin took out her own weapon. “We didn’t use this one. Maybe it can help.” She raised it to her forehead, holding the picture of her brother strongly. The light was clear but faint. Still, once more they had a guide.

This time they ran. With the extra speed, faint as the light was, they gained distance. When it finally vanished, they were at a junction in the passages.

“Great, now where?” Eleeri muttered to herself.

She peered down both tunnels. “Let’s try something else.” She clasped one of their hands in each of her own. “Join your free hands. Now think of Romar. Try to throw out a rope and tie it to him.”

They stood there, faces white and strained as they built the picture. At last Romar stood before them. To Eleeri’s knowledge this was the true Romar. Not the casual smiling man his sister remembered, nor the warrior Jerrany would have called to mind. This figure was pale of face, lines of pain and weariness showed clear. The clothes were worn and stained and she could feel the disgust that their dirt-thickened feel brought to him.