Robert Vardeman - Istu awakened

Then Rann pushed past, taking his place at Fost's side, raising a hand to Synalon who rose from her bed with death in her eye.

'This is fair, I think. Neither of you casts a deathbolt without slaying the both of us. Now, Highness, will you talk?'

Fost felt his neck hairs rise. The air crackled with potent magics barely held in restraint. He waited to die and wondered what the Hell Call would be like.

It didn't happen. Moriana was first to drop her threatening hand, but Synalon followed reluctantly. 'I see nothing to talk about.' She gazed past Fost without warmth.

"What were you doing, Synalon? Do you deny that creature is a sending of the Dark Ones?'

'I do not.' Haughtily, she tossed back her head. 'It was the Messenger of the Lords of Elder Dark himself. I have spoken with him before.'

'What did you discuss?' Rann asked in a casual tone, as if mentioning how nice the weather had been that day.

'We discussed my sabotaging your plans to raise the World Spirit against Istu.' Moriana's hand shot forth. Fost grabbed it.

'Wait, dammit!' He swiveled his head and said in desperation, 'Explain and explain quickly or we're all dead.' Synalon started to bristle. 'I'd be pleased to hear an explanation, as well,' Rann drawled.

She shook back her hair and straightened her shoulders, as if preparing herself for a wearisome task.

'Very well. Shortly after we left Brev the Messenger appeared to me, after Fost had gone to sleep. He proposed that I rejoin the Dark Ones. He said I had proven wanting before but that if I acted rapidly and well I could earn back my lost grace – and more.' Moriana dropped her arm. She shook her head in dejection. 'How could you? How could even you?'

'I could not!' Synalon laughed. 'What kind of fool do you take me for, sister mine? Think me a traitor if you will. But I would be a stupid groundling if I trusted anything the Dark Ones said to me.' 'Then why did you tell him you'd go along?' Fost demanded.

'I thought better of you, Longstrider. Is it not obvious? The Dark Ones fear what we do here. They are not certain Istu can prevail so they sought to ensure their success from within. It takes great energy for the Lords to intervene on this plane, even through the agency of their Messenger. So I let them think I was mooncalf enough to heed them, and they wasted their efforts on me. I may have saved us, sister. Small thanks I'll get.' 'I don't believe it,' Moriana stated flatly.

'But what of you?' Synalon flung at her. 'Can we trust you? You've treated with the servitors of the Dark before – daughter of Thendrun!'

Moriana sagged. She caught the doorframe to support herself. Fost longed to go to her and hold her but sensed it wasn't safe to move.

'He told you,' Moriana said in a weak voice. 'Yes.' Synalon raised her head triumphantly. 'Is it so strange that we are drawn to Darkness, dear sister, with the heritage we share?'

'I… I couldn't bring myself to tell you,' whispered Moriana. She turned away. 'Best we die here and let others carry on the fight. We are tainted, touched by the Void and the Night. We do not deserve to return to the City in the Sky.'

'Are you so weak?' Synalon screamed at her. 'Go then. Open your veins and spill your blood upon the floor, if you despise it so! I care not what I do or do not deserve, nor whether I am sprung from Zr'gsz or even if one was my father! I will wreak my revenge upon those who betrayed and used me, and all who stand with them.' She strode forward, pushing Fost and Rann aside as easily as if they were children and seized Moriana's shoulders, spinning her roughly around. 'Perhaps you do not deserve to stand in the streets of our City again, sister. Then don't! But I shall! The City is all I've ever loved. I shall possess it again – and only death can stop me!'

In the stunned silence following her outburst they all heard the frantic footsteps in the corridor beyond. Synalon shoved her sister from her as a small boy in the tabard of a Bilsinxt drummer looked nervously around the door.

'Your Highnesses.' he said in a shrill voice. 'Th-they sent me from below to fetch you. The Sky City has just entered the Gate of the Mountains!'

Their footsteps rang loudly in Fost's ears as he and the others crowded into the chamber where the Nexus lay. Light appeared from everywhere; no torches were needed in Athalau. The Ethereals had been stirring on their pallets in the nave of the Palace of Esoteric Wisdom when Moriana and the rest raced by. Now they filed into the chamber as they had on that first day.

This time they did not take up kneeling positions on the dull steel pattern. Instead they lined themselves along the walls. 'The time is come, mistress?' Selamyl asked Moriana. She hesitated, then said, 'The time is come.'

Selamyl strode forward and took his position in the middle of the line and faced the far wall. Soundlessly the others glided forward and knelt, each upon one of the nodes that seemed strewn at random throughout the mandala. With a sinking feeling, Fost saw how few there truly were. Many of the nodes were unoccupied and the silvery patch in the center looked like a gap left by a missing tooth. He didn't see how they could ever succeed.

'What would Felarod do, were he here now?' Moriana asked aloud.

'You must find your own way,' said Selamyl. His eyes were closed, his voice seemed to come from all around. 'Flow with the universe. The World Spirit will guide you.' 'Can you – can you reach the Spirit?' she asked. 'Yes.' 'Then do so.'

Silence. Fost felt it gnawing inside him like an animal demanding release, felt the tension begin to build and set his limbs trembling. He wanted to scream at the inactivity.

Moriana shifted to stand beside him, and her hand sought his. He willed his hand not to quaver and knew he failed. He looked around. Synalon stood nearby with lifted chin, feigning disinterest. Rann stood with folded arms, his head thrust forward, his yellow eyes wide beneath thin brows.

A greenish glow bathed Rann's face. Fost stared at him for a second, then turned back to the center of the room.

The metallic tracery on the floor had come to life. The green glow flowed from it suffusing the room. The kneeling Ethereals had become translucent. Each slender body shone like a lamp but without heat.

He became aware of a faint pulsation of the light. Shouts rebounded down the stairway from above, and it seemed there was an outcry in the streets.

'Behold the Nexus,' came Selamyl's voice. 'It is Athalau itself. This is the center.' 'And the World Spirit?' Moriana could barely force out the words. 'It comes.'

A chill wind tore at Zak'zar's face and felt as if it would strip away the skin. His cloak cracked behind him like a whip. It was agony to be abroad in this cold night with the icy breath of the Waste upon him. The others of the People lay abed wrapped against the chill. But his place was upon the rampart of the floating City.

Istu stood beside him, set apart from the night only by the absolute blackness of his being unmarred by stars. His yellow eyes watched the rugged terrain below unfold. The City followed his will, its course matching the winding of the black slash that wandered through the mountains.

He stiffened, raised his head as if testing the wind for some scent, some sound.

'What is it?' Zak'zar asked, shouting to be heard above the keening wind.

Istu raised a taloned hand to still him. Then he crumpled his hands into fists and shook them in the face of the south. 'My curse upon you! I lay my curse on Athalau and all within!' "What's happening?'

Istu's eyes swept down. Zak'zar thought the Demon would slay him in his unreasoning fury. But the mad glare subsided. Istu spoke.

'In Athalau. I feel it, I hear it, it wounds my ears! The Pale Ones have summoned the World Spirit.' Zak'zar felt strength ebbing. 'Have we lost, then?'