David Zindell - Black Jade

'So — perhaps I lied.'

'No, you did not!'

His voice softened then as he told me, 'Listen to me, my young friend: we do what we have to do, eh? Just don't be so sure it's always easy to know what is evil and what is not.'

And with that, he stalked off back toward our encampment. I waited with my drawn sword, watching the world turn into darkness. I breathed in the smells of grass and woodfire and the fresh blood of a lion's kill wafting on the wind. I sensed many things. The horses standing in their small herd nearby were all exhausted and would have a hard time when morning came. I quivered with the fear of the field mice as they looked for the owls who hunted them, and my heart leaped with the gladness of the wolves as they followed the scent of their prey. And in all this immense anguish and zest, I thought, in all this incessant struggle and striving there was no evil but only the terrible beauty of life. It was too much for me to take in, too much for any man. And yet I must, for the stars, too, had a kind of life: deeper and wilder and infinite in duration. How, I wondered, would I ever feel my mother's breath upon my face or hear Asaru laughing again if I could not open myself to this eternal flame?

Just then Atara appeared out of the glare of our campfire and walked closer to me. Then she called out: 'Val, your face — your sword!'

To be open to love, I knew, is to be vulnerable to hate.

'Morjin is out there,' I said to her. My sword glowed red like an ember as I pointed it toward our enemy. 'Can you "see" him?'

Atara drew out her scryer's crystal and stood rolling it between her hands. She said, 'Everywhere I look now, Morjin is there. It is why I am loath to look.'

'Your gift,' I told her, 'is a curse. As is mine.'

I went on to relate my conversation with Kane. She came up close to me and grasped my hand. 'No, it is just the opposite. Kane was right: you have yet to learn how to use the valarda.'

I wrenched free my hand and said, 'If I could, I would cut it out of me, the way I've cut off others' hands and carved out their hearts.'

'No — please don't say that!'

'Such terrible things I have done! And what is yet to come?'

I stared at the Red Knights' campfires, then Atara touched my cheek to turn my face toward her. And she said to me, 'I don't know what is to come, strange though you might think it. But I know what has been. And I know where I have been, with my gift.'

She held up her gelstei: a little white sphere gleaming beneath the white circle of the moon. 'I've tried to tell you what it is like to see as I have seen. To live. Such glory! So much light! Truly, there are infinite possibilities, the dreams of the stars waiting to be made real. I've seen them all, inside this crystal. And here, for too long, I have dwelled. It is splendid, beyond the beating of a butterfly's wings or the sun rising over the sea. But it is cold. It is like being frozen in ice at the top of a mountain as high as the stars. And all the time, I am so utterly, utterly alone.'

'A curse,' I said softly as I covered her crystal with my hand.

'No! You don't see ! The price of such beauty has been such terrible isolation — almost too terrible to bear. But I have borne it, even gloried in it, because of you. Your gift. You are such a gift, Valashu. You have a heart of fire, and it is so brilliantly, brilliantly beautiful! Is there any ice it could not melt? No, I know — only you. You bring me back into the world, where everything is warm and sweet. I don't want to know what it would be like to live without you. You are the one being with whom I do not feel alone.'

Her hand was warm against mine. Because she had no eyes, she could not weep. And so I wept for her instead.

'Kane has suggested,' I finally told her, 'that I should use the valarda to manipulate Bajorak. Like a puppeteer pulling on strings.' She smiled sadly and shook her head. 'Kane is so knowing. But sometimes, so willfully blind.'

'How should I use the valarda, then?'

'You know,' she said to me. Her voice was as cool and gentle as the wind. 'You've always known, and you always will know, when the time comes.'

I looked out at the millions of stars shimmering through the night. The black sky could hold their splendor, but how could any man?

'And now,' she said to me, 'you should get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day, and a bad one, I think. Come to bed, Val.'

She pulled at my hand to lead me back to our camp. But I let go of her to grip my sword, and I told her, 'In a moment.'

I watched her walk back to the fire as she had come, and I marvelled yet again that she could find her way without the use of her eyes. I wondered then how I would ever find my own way to whatever end awaited me. I gazed at Alkaladur, whose silustria glistered with dark reds and violets. The Sword of Fate, men called it. How should I point it, I wondered, toward all that was good, beautiful and true? I wondered, too, if I would ever be free of the valarda. I had spoken of using my sword to make a brutal surgery upon myself, but I might as well try to cut away my face, my limbs and all my flesh — no less my memories and dreams — and hope to remain Valashu Elahad.

'So, just so,' I whispered.

And with this sudden affirmation, my heart opened, and my sword filled with the light of the stars. Then, to my astonishment, its substance began radiating a pure and deep glorre. This was the secret color inside all others, the true color that was their source. It flared with all the fire of red and shone as numinously as midnight blue, and yet these essencese — and those of the other colors it contained — were not just multiple and distinct but somehow one. Kane called it the color of the angels, and said that it belonged far away across the heavens, in the splendor of the constellations near the Golden Band, but not yet here on earth. For most men had neither the eyes nor the heart to behold it.

'So bright,' I whispered. 'Too bright.' I too, could not bear the beauty of this color for very long. And so as the world continued its journey into night and carried the brilliant stars into the west, I watched as the glorre bled away, and the radiance of my sword dimmed and died.

I returned to the fire after that and lay down on my furs to sleep. But I could not. As my sword remained within its sheath, waiting to be drawn, I knew that the glorre abided somewhere inside me. But would I ever find the grace to call upon it?

The next day's dawn came upon the world with a red, unwelcome glare. We ate a hasty breakfast of rushk cakes smeared in jelly and some goose eggs that Liljana had reserved for especially difficult work. And our riding that morning, while not nearly so fast or jolting as that of the previous day, was difficult enough. We set out parallel to the mountains, and our course here took us southeast over ground humped with many hummocks and rocky crests. We crossed streams all icy cold and swollen into raging brown torrents that ran down from the great peaks above us. All of us, I thought, rode stiffly. We struggled to keep our tired horses moving at a good pace. Often I wondered at the need, for no matter how quickly or slowly we progressed, our enemy in their carmine-colored armor kept always a mile's distance behind us.

'Surely they don't intend to attack us,' Maram puffed out as he nudged his horse up beside me. 'Unless Bajorak is right and they are only waiting for reinforcements.'

Toward this contingency, Bajorak had sent forth outriders to search the grassy swells and sweeps of the Wendrush.

'Of course,' Maram added, 'it seems most likely that they only intend to follow us into the mountains.'

'We cannot go into the mountains,' I told him, 'so long as they do follow us.'