Труди Канаван: The Magician’s Apprentice

“I don’t think we’re the first to take up residence,” she said. “Get the others. I’m going inside.”

Creating another globe light, Stara stepped through the doorway. Inside was a long corridor, and she could see light coming through the vegetation that covered other doors and windows. Roots splayed and wove together in tangles for the first few strides, but after that all was bare stone. Wide openings on the far wall beckoned her further inside.

She chose the closest. It was a wide corridor with rooms on either side. The walls between were almost as thick as the spaces. In places they were wet from seepage, but most were dry. Hearing footsteps, she waited for the women to catch up with her, then they all went on. After passing six rooms the corridor ended.

Returning to the main corridor, they continued exploring. One of them noticed shallow carvings of people and animals on some walls. Most rooms had one or two, but then they discovered a wide corridor covered in them. It led to an enormous cave. A crack in the roof high above them let in a weak stream of light and straggling roots. It had also obviously let in the rain, as there was a pool in the centre of the cave. Behind this was a raised section of floor, and on it a crumbling slab of stone.

They skirted the pool and climbed up on the dais to examine the slab. On the surface was the faint outline of a human shape, surrounded by lines radiating out from the chest area.

Shadiya peered closer. “What do you reckon that’s about? Is it a coffin cover? Or an altar for human sacrifice?”

Stara shuddered. “Who knows?”

“There’s another doorway behind here,” Ichiva said, pointing to the wall behind the dais. Then she looked to one side. “Do you think that was the door?”

They all stopped to look at a great disc of stone, split in two, that lay in front of the opening. There was a deep groove in the floor before the doorway. It was as wide as the disc, Stara noted.

“Perhaps it was rolled into place, and out again,” she said.

The women hummed in speculation, then turned to examine the opening. Stara directed her globe light inside. A narrow corridor continued into darkness. She stepped inside.

Before too long the corridor split into two, then again. Stara slowed. “This is becoming a bit of a maze. We should mark our way.”

They traced their steps back, then scraped an arrow symbol on a wall at each intersection pointing back the way they’d come.

“We’d best stay together, too,” Stara said. “Don’t stray. Don’t let anybody fall behind.”

“Not likely,” one of them replied nervously, and the others laughed in agreement.

Going on, slowed by the need to mark the way, they explored the maze of passages. Some led to small rooms, some to dead ends. Then abruptly the corridor changed from smooth, carved stone to rough natural rock. It continued for several strides, then opened up into another cave.

The surface of this cave glittered, drawing gasps of amazement and appreciation from the women. Stara moved closer to the wall. There were crystalline shapes all over the surface. In some areas they were the size of her fist, in others as small as her fingernail.

“These look a bit like the gemstones the Duna sell us,” Ichiva observed. “Do you think they’re magical?”

“Magical or not, they are worth a fortune,” Stara replied. She straightened and looked at them all. “So long as we are careful, we can trade them for anything we can’t make or grow ourselves.”

They were all smiling and hopeful now. For a while they lingered, touching the gemstones and competing to find the largest. But hours had passed since their previous snack and hunger drew them out again. Following the markings, Stara was relieved when she had them safely returned to the first cave. They sat on the edge of the dais and unpacked some food. Stara chewed on one of the dry buns, laced with seeds and nuts, that Vora had cooked for them.

“I think there’s another doorway next to that,” Shadiya said, pointing to the left of the opening to the maze. “See the lines in the wall?”

Putting aside her bun, Stara rose and moved closer. Shadiya was right. There was a door-shaped groove in the wall.

“I wonder how you open it,” Shadiya said, coming closer. “There’s no handle or keyhole.”

“That suggests magic, doesn’t it?” Stara said. She stood before the door and drew power, then sent it out and into the cracks. It wrapped around the back with no resistance, so she knew there was a hollow beyond. Probing further, she sensed that there was a hollow above the door. It curved up and to one side, so the door would rest on its side within the cavity.

Exerting her will, she lifted the door. It scraped loudly as it rose and slid sideways at her direction, then settled into place.

The women crowded around the opening Stara had exposed.

Faint walls were visible. Stara sent her globe light inside and all gasped. Every surface of the room within, apart from the floor, was carved. And unlike the rest of the carvings they’d seen, these had been painted in vivid colours.

Stara moved inside. She stared at the scenes depicted. Painted people carved stones from cave walls. The stones were brightly coloured and lines radiated from them. One man, always dressed in white, appeared in several of the scenes. He tended to the gemstones as they grew, before they were cut, and they were given to him afterwards. He also gave them out to others. In all depictions he wore a single blue stone on a chain around his chest, radiating lines.

On another wall a man tied with ropes was presented to this white-dressed man. He was bound to a rectangle marked the same way as the slab in the big cave. The white-dressed man then held the blue stone against his chest. In the next scene the victim was dragged away, clearly dead, and the white man radiated power.

“I was right about the human sacrifice,” Shadiya murmured.

Beneath all the scenes were lines of markings. Some sort of ancient writing. Do they explain what is going on? Stara wondered. Clearly these gemstones have magical properties. Like the stones the Duna make. I wonder... would the Duna be able to read this? She would have to have some phrases copied and taken to them.

Moving out of the room, Stara returned to her pack and her abandoned meal. She watched the women return one by one, all looking awed and giving the slab a sober second look. She listened to their chatter and thought about all they had discovered.

The valley needed a lot of work before it would be habitable, and even more before the women could live here, entirely self-sufficient. But they had wealth now, in the form of the gemstones. From what she could tell from the paintings, the stones needed special tending as they grew to become magical. Those on the walls now could be sold by the Traitors without any risk of putting anything dangerous in the hands of the Kyralians or Sachakans.

She paused. Already I’m thinking of Sachakans as people other than us. We are going to become a new people. Perhaps a small people, like the Duna, but not as primitive. Will we still call ourselves the Traitors?

She nodded to herself. Yes. We should. We must not forget why we came here. Not because of the war, but because as women we were invisible, undervalued and powerless. Sachakan society put us in a place little better than a slave’s. Now we have found a new place, where we make the decisions, where nobody is a slave and all work for the good of everyone. I doubt it’s going to be easy, or that we won’t make mistakes, or perhaps even fail in the end. It’ll probably take more than a lifetime. But this is more exciting than running father’s trade. It isn’t just an escape for me, Vora, Nachira and my friends. If it works, it’ll help many, many women in the years to come.