David Zindell - Black Jade

Abrasax, still standing by the symbol-carved wall, said to him, 'Why not, indeed? Might I ask, then, where this great river will carry the Maitreya?'

'That is no easier for me to determine than for anyone else,' Bemossed said. 'But for now, I will remain here, Grandfather.'

'And you, Valashu Elahad? Will you and your companions stay with us, too?'

I took hold of my sword, and stood up to work off some of the restlessness building inside me. I paced around the room, looking at the various glyphs and the crystals set into the walls. I came to where Abrasax stood by the yanyin, with its gleaming curves of black and white. I drew my sword, and for a long few moments I watched the silver blade flare with a deep glorre. Then I thrust it straight into the heart of the yanyin. Its point, almost infinitely sharp, came to a rest in the fine crack between the yanyin's white quartz and black obsidian without chipping off the slightest sliver of stone or marring the yanyin in any way.

And I said to Abrasax, and to the other masters still sitting at the table, 'No, I will return to Mesh.'

'To Mesh?' Abrasax said. 'But your own warriors turned away from you and cast you out.'

'I cast myself out. But now the river that Bemossed has spoken of is carrying me back home.'

'Are you sure?'

I looked at my bright sword, and nodded my head. 'As sure as I am of anything.'

'But to what end?'

'To the end … of ending Morjin's terror,' I told him. 'There are those of my people who would still follow me.'

'To war, then?'

I drew in a long breath, and I remembered the lessons that my father had once taught me. I said, 'I must strike now, while Morjin is compromised, where he is the weakest.'

'To strike with that sword?'

I lifted up Alkaladur, and pointed it toward the starlight streaming in through one of the windows. 'This sword he fears like death. But there is another sword that is not so easy to see. He fears that one even more. It remains half-forged, and I still do not know how to wield it.'

Abrasax sighed and regarded me with his deep, perceptive eyes. 'It is a dangerous path that you've chosen.'

'Have I chosen it, Grandfather?'

He looked at the thing of silustria and light that I held in my hand, and he said, 'When you first came here. Master Storr accused you of being of the sword. That is still true, isn't it?'

'Yes,' I told him. 'I bear two swords now, and I will use either one, or both, against Morjin.'

'Will you not content yourself to see if Bemossed can prevail against him?'

I bowed my head to my new friend. 'Bemossed will do what he can do, and I will do what I must.'

'What is it then that you hope to accomplish?'

I looked at Estrella sitting beside Daj as she calmly ate a piece of lemon cake; I looked at Maram steeling himself for yet another journey, and at Atara abiding with a deep and lightless silence. Then I looked at Kane. I smiled and said, 'Nothing less than Morjin's utter defeat. I believe in a victory so final and complete that even the stones buried miles down in the muck of the earth will sing with joy and light.'

'Ha!' Kane suddenly shouted. His deep voice set the walls of the conservatory to ringing. 'Ha! — the stars will dance and the earth itself will sing!'

He sprang to his feet and crossed the room almost in one blinding motion. He knelt before me as he laid his calloused hand on the flat of my sword's blade.

'So — I've waited too long to hear you say that,' he told me. 'To Mesh we'll go, and then if we must, to the gates of heaven or hell!'

Abrasax sighed at this. Then he, too, dared to touch my sword. He called out into the room, 'The river might flow to the sea, but it seems that it takes many turnings to reach it.'

He asked Kane and me to go back to the tables and sit back down. Then he stepped over to the door. He opened it to ask something of a Brother Hannold who waited outside. After taking his place again next to Master Storr, he folded his hands beneath his chin as he patiently waited.

After some time. Brother Hannold entered the room bearing a dark, dust-stained bottle- Another Brother followed after him carrying a tray of tinkling glasses. Brother Hannold set one of these deep-bodied glasses in front of each of us, even as he gripped the bottle in his other hand. I guessed that it must contain one of those sweet-bitter infusions of herbs that the Brothers favored in place of more convivial drink.

Then Brother Hannold uncorked the bottle.

'Ah, brandy!' Maram said as pushed out his fat nose to sniff across the table. 'Excellent! Excellent!'

'Brandy!' Master Storr cried out. 'It cannot be!'

His liver-spotted face grew red with outrage, and Masters Matai, Okuth and Yasul also seemed disturbed by this turn of events, while Master Virang rubbed his chin in confusion.

'Brandy it is, truly,' Abrasax said. He motioned for Brother Hannold to pour a bit of this dark, fiery liquid in our glasses. 'We will drink to the success of our guests' last journey, and their future ones, as well.'

'But, Grandfather,' Master Storr said, 'we do not drink to such things! It is not our way!'

'I believe that a new age is coming, and so there will be new ways. And so tonight, just this one time, we will drink.'

'Even the children?'

Abrasax smiled at Daj and Estrella, and said, 'Yes, even the children.'

Daj's eyes gleamed as Brother Hannold poured a little brandy into his glass. It was only a fourth the amount that Maram convinced Brother Hannold to pour for him, but Daj didn't seem to mind. After Abrasax had raised his glass and proposed the toast, bidding us to follow the sacred rivers that ran through each of our hearts, Daj downed his brandy in two great gulps. Miraculously, he did not cough or choke on it, but only sat triumphantly as if he had done a great thing.

And then he called out: 'I have an ending for my story. Does anyone want to hear it?'

At that moment Alphanderry appeared in a swirl of sparkling lights, and stood over the table.

'Of course we want to hear it,' Master Storr said. He drained his glass, and then held out for Brother Hannold to refill it. 'We might as well have a songfest to go along with our drink, since we're breaking the peace of this chamber, to say nothing of our school.'

'Ha — peace be damned!' Kane said, smiling at Daj. 'Tell us how your story ends!'

Daj smiled back at him, and said, 'Well, for a long time, I didn't think it could have an ending. At least not a happy one, Eleikar must kill the wicked king to gain his vengeance and keep his honor. And he must not do anything that would wound Ayeshtan's heart, so how can he even think of killing her father?'

To the little sounds of brandy being sipped and glasses tinkling, we all sat contemplating this conundrum. None of us, not even Bemossed could find an answer for Daj.

'So — tell us, then,' Kane finally said to him.

'Well,' Daj said, smiling back at him, 'it is Eleikar, after all, who finds his way out of his dilemma. It seems that he goes off on a quest of his own. He returns to Khalind with a kind of black gelstei, more powerful even than the Black Jade. He uses it to kill the wicked king and then take him down into the land of death. There, the king meets Eleikar's family — and all the people he has murdered. They all tell him what it was like to be stolen from life. And the king understands because now he has been stolen from life. By Eleikar. But Eleikar uses the gelstei to bring the wicked king back to Khalind. Only he is not wicked anymore because all he can think about is how good it is to be reborn and live again. And so he becomes a good king, and gives Ayeshtan to Eleikar in marriage, and everyone lives happily ever after.'

Daj finished speaking and looked at Kane proudly. He seemed utterly swept away by the words that he had spoken to us.