Andre Norton - The Key of the Keplian

From another door more of them swarmed into the fight. Eleeri shuddered. They were an unholy amalgam of toad and human, but, she reflected as she fought, horrible as they might appear, they were no warriors. They died too easily. Beside her Jerrany and Mayrin fought, swords cleaving the enemy until the last of them had fallen. Without pause, Eleeri made for the door from where these guardians had come. She wrenched it open, hurling herself through and to one side.

Jerrany followed, swinging to the right, sword at the ready. A man confronted them now. A man. But not quite a man, for his eyes glowed red fire in the handsome face, his proportions somehow no longer quite those of humanity. He was well enough looking, Eleeri thought. Short in stature, no more than five and a half feet at most, but well-muscled, and his movements as he leaned forward were supple. His face could have been called handsome, if one ignored the fleshy lips, the bland coldness in the eyes. Already lines of petulance were starting to show, around the mouth. It was the face of one who is usually secure in his own esteem, and self-indulgent to his own whims and appetites.

He was clad in a smooth silken material, designed and cut to show his lithe strength, and open almost to the waist in front. Eleeri could not quite say what was wrong with his shape; perhaps the arms were a little too long, the legs a touch too short. All she knew was that as he stood there summing them up even as they stared back, he reminded her of nothing so much as stepping in something squishy in the dark. She had an urge to make a disgusted sound and step back and away. His over-red lips parted.

“Oh, but you have done so well, come so far—for nothing. Did you think I would give back the one you seek at a mere word?” His face shaped a smug leer. “Yet if one of you would come to me willingly I might be generous. I might be . . . very generous.” He waited, but none of them spoke. “No? Well, then you are uninvited guests. Leave and perhaps I will not call the Dark against you.”

“We have met the Dark. We are here,” Mayrin said briefly.

“I could offer you other choices—”

“Those, too, we have seen. We have rejected them,” Mayrin returned.

“I could kill the one you seek. Where, then, do you profit?”

“In death he would be free. What then of your own use of him?”

His face twisted in rage. “Then fight and lose, pawns of Light.” His hands came together in a single echoing clap that gathered sound to roll like thunder about the room. Abruptly they were elsewhere.

Their hands shot out to grasp. Fingers linked as they swung into battle formation back to back, swords out. Ever afterward Eleeri was unsure if it was their eyes that adapted to the shadowlands or light came to them from some source. But gradually they could see farther and farther although all the land they saw was in the grays of shade and shadow.

“Where are we?” Mayrin’s voice trembled a little.

Jerrany shrugged. “I do not know. Maybe someplace of the Dark lord’s devising. Perhaps a real world. But I recall once hearing a wise one from Lormt. He told a tale of a shadow world which is half in our world and half in nothingness. Those who are whole can return from it. Those who are not are refused passage. Would that not be a safe place to hold Romar’s spirit captive? He would be trapped here, unable to leave, unable to pass the boundary to return to where his body lies.”

The two women looked at each other, then nodded. Mayrin spoke angrily. “No wonder he sent us here. But what do we do?”

Eleeri grinned, a smile that was suddenly dangerous. “He thinks it a joke. We’re supposed to find Romar, perhaps free him, then try to leave. When Romar can’t, that so-called lord will find it very amusing, I’ve no doubt.”

“Then why are you smiling?” Jerrany was puzzled.

Eleeri’s fingers went up to touch the lump above her belt. Cynan had taught her spells and all the time she had lived in Escore her gifts had grown in strength. In this trial of her abilities everything she had ever known and all the power she had slowly gained was blending into a whole.

“Let us find Romar,” she said quietly. “I may have something which will help us win him free of this shadowland.”

She waved aside their queries. “Let us find him first if we can. Free him, then return here. Time enough then to ask questions.”

Jerrany nodded. “Let us decide on a direction. Does the mind-rope still bind us to Romar?”

There was a brief silence as they tested. The feel of the link held yet. Jerrany led off, heading for a low range of hills deep in shadow. To either side the women moved out a pace behind him, eyes searching the terrain as they trotted. A soft whimpering caught their attention as they passed a clump of tangled, viciously thorned brambles. Mayrin turned to follow the sound. Then she fell to her knees.

“Look, he’s caught.” Her hands went out to aid, but Eleeri hauled her abruptly backward.

“Hold on. It may be some kind of trap.”

She drew her dagger, the silver shining in the shadowlight. With it she carefully moved the brambles aside until the figure could crawl free. Then she offered the blade.

“If you are not evil, touch this.”

It did so, straightening abruptly into a man only a little less tall than they. He bowed low.

“I acknowledge a debt to Light. May I aid you?”

They studied him. With his touch on the silver blade, he had grown. He was male, but not quite human. His eyes were round and his ears long, with what looked like tufts of furry feathers atop them. His hands were three-fingered and stubby.

Jerrany stirred. “Are you born to this land?”

“I am. But neither I nor this place are of the Dark. Here both Dark and Light may abide.” He frowned. “Though we are never pleased when those who follow either side strongly intrude. We prefer peace.”

Mayrin nodded. “Why were you in the brambles?”

“Because a power is meddling here again.” His voice was soft and angry. “I was seized and entangled so that I might entangle you. But I do not choose to do this. You have seen I could touch silver. I am not of the Dark, nor do I choose to be used by it. If you will trust me, I will lead you to the one you seek. The journey on foot would be great, but I can shorten it to a breath.” He waited.

Mayrin took a deep breath. Before either could prevent it, she had taken a step forward, laying her hand in his.

“It is my brother who is captive. I trust you to take us to him, aid us to free him or at the least cause us no hindrance.”

The male smiled up at her. His hands went out to touch theirs; they gripped his tightly. There was a second of disorientation, a clap of air, and they stood on the shores of a black lake. The inky water rippled toward their feet.

“Which way now?” Jerrany was scanning the lakeshore.

A stubby hand rose to point. They trudged forward through loose black sand to where a small black marble building reared above the low slope.

Jerrany hooked his dagger through the door latch, dragging at the weight of tightly shut wood. It yielded slowly.

Within they could see a figure sitting motionless in a great carven chair. It was bound in heavy loops of chain, but the face as it turned to them was that of Romar. But not the once-elegant, gaily clad sword-brother Jerrany had known. Nor the joyous laughing brother Mayrin remembered. It was to Eleeri he looked the most familiar as she met the exhausted enduring eyes. Resolutely she trod forward, taking his chill hands in hers.

“Well met, Romar. We have come to take you home.”

His hands closed on hers and the sudden light in his eyes lit her heart. At first she had pitied him for his slavery. Then she had grown to care for him as a friend. And finally she had known that without this man her life might be incomplete. She breathed in the air of this place. She would have him free of here or die trying. She moved aside as Mayrin and Jerrany thrust past to clasp hands with Romar. Mayrin’s face was calm, but slow tears trickled down her cheeks. The first step was accomplished. That which was lost was now found.