Ширли Мерфи - The Castle Оf Hape. Caves Оf Fire Аnd Ice. The Joining Оf Тhe Stone

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The great dark power of the monster Hape blinds the farseeing minds of the Seers of Carriol so they can only grope against the growing evils around them.
Followed by faithful Skeelie and the wolves, Ramad aids heroes of many ages of the planet Ere, but seems forever separated from Telien as she fulfills a fate of her own.
Lobon, son of Ramad of the Wolves, helped by the wolves and the Seers of Carriol, continues his father's struggle to find the shards of the runestone and unite them for the power of good. Sequel to "Caves of Fire and Ice."

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“A stone lies there,” she whispered.

“Yes.” He Saw the vision as clearly as she. The wolves Saw it. A shard of the runestone beneath a crystal dome in the center of a bright green valley.

“Kish sees it, too,” Meatha said.

“She means to follow. She means to see us find the stone, and then . . . then . . .”

She reddened, swallowed. “Then see our child born. Take the stones and our child.” She felt a stab of pain as if, indeed, there were a child, tender and helpless child so very vital to Ere. And now she felt pain and shame at having taken the stones from Carriol, pain at her self-deception. And she saw in Lobon’s eyes the knowledge of his own self-deception. She felt his shame at having so long ignored the truth of what he must do, and what his life must mean.

She touched his shoulder. He put his arms around her, rested his brow against her hair, and they knew as one the blind, twisted paths they had both followed, so willful, so dangerous for Ere. Something of their spirits joined in that moment that could never again be parted.

Something much dearer, much stronger than Kish could ever create with her spells.

At last they stepped apart without speaking.

Crieba had gone to hunt. Feldyn watched them drowsily as they gathered sticks for firewood among the sparse, low bushes. The winged ones were scattered across the rounded butt of mountain, grazing the thick grass greedily. There were no trees for shelter here, only stunted bush. The mountain was ancient, long ago worn nearly flat—though still it rose higher than the surrounding peaks. Only two peaks, to the south, were higher. Eken-dep with her glacier, and the peak that both were sure was Tala-charen, for still a power like a voice reached out to them from that cone-like mountain.

When the fire was burning well, Meatha went to stand alone where the mountain dropped off into space.

How were they to find the crystal dome? In what place lay the green valley? She had had no sense of its direction. And if they found it, could they avoid leading the warrior queen there?

And how were they to get the six stones that Kish herself possessed?

Quietly, with all the strength she could muster, she reached out to Tala-charen and tried to draw its power into herself. But no strength touched her; she could not make herself feel stronger. In desperation she reached beyond Tala-charen to Carriol, for she needed Anchorstar now; he must speak to her.

But she could get no sense of him. She stood vainly trying for some minutes, then suddenly, sharply, she Saw the white-haired child. Jaspen. Her name was Jaspen. She Saw the stone itself then. A long shard of jade lying in the child’s curled hand.

But where? Where was the crystal dome? Where dwelt Jaspen?

When nothing more came, she turned away, swallowing. Never once had there been a sense of Anchorstar. Only the disembodied vision. She went slowly back to the fire and sat down close to Feldyn, seeking the wolf’s strength, seeking comfort. Feldyn laid his head in her lap. She leaned over him, stroked his cheek, then leaned her forehead against his, trying not to cry. The stone in the vision seemed so close. But where? Where?

TEN

Lobon woke to bright moonlight and to the howl of wolves. He sat up, could see Feldyn and Crieba beyond the camp, silhouetted against moon-silvered clouds, gazing off toward the southeast. He tried to sense what they sensed and could not. They raised their muzzles again in wails that shattered the night. Meatha woke and came closer to the fire. The winged ones stirred, lifted their heads in alarm, spread their wings ready for flight; then at the wolves’ reassurance, they settled down once more. Lobon scowled. What was this all about? But already the two wolves were returning. Feldyn nuzzled him and took his arm between sharp teeth as he was wont to do when he was in high spirits. Our brothers speak to us, Lobon, our brothers descended from Fawdref. We feel more than their strength now, we hear their voices clearly. Feldyn stretched and gazed again toward Carriol. They battle the Kubalese now alongside Carriol’s warriors, to defend the border of Carriol. The wolf’s golden eyes were filled with intense and mysterious promise. Wolves of our pack battle the dark, Lobon. And they speak to Crieba and me. They know the crystal dome, where lies a shard of the runestone. They know the vision Meatha carries.

Meatha caught her breath. “Can they show us?” But already she, like Lobon, was being pulled into the vision of the small green valley with its crystal dome; but now they Saw it from a wider vantage. Saw it was surrounded by dunes and by vast reaches of sand. “The high desert,” Meatha breathed. And behind the valley on one side rose a line of mountains, and higher peaks behind these with five sharp peaks marching just beyond a vast sweep of granite, pale in the moonlight. And far behind these, another peak towered higher still, a peak shaped like Tala-charen, though different in some way that Meatha could not make out.

“Different because it’s the other side, I think,” Lobon said. “As if the crystal dome lies on the far side of Tala-charen, to the north of it—there where the desert must sweep around the end of the Ring of Fire.” He raised his eyes to her. “If that is so, then the valley lies far up in the unknown lands.”

“But we can find it now, we—”

“We have only to move across the skies above Tala-charen until we see that great slab of granite.” He rose, pulled on his boots. He did not mean to wait until morning.

“Kish will follow us,” she said.

“I hope so. She carries the stones—I don’t want her far away.” Though he felt naked without a weapon, though he would have sold his soul for sword or bow.

They made ready at once. Lobon lifted the wolves onto the backs of two winged mares; Meatha mounted, then Lobon; and they were leaping skyward into the moon-silvered night, flying light and fast across a cold, quick wind. To their left rose Eken-dep, its white glacier touched by moonlight; then suddenly against that mass of white a small, dark silhouette appeared in the sky, moving fast toward them. Kish? All of them startled.

But Kish would not come alone now that she had lizards to fight beside her.

Then they saw it was not a lizard but a winged one coming on fast and riderless, flying free. Michennann, cutting the wind in great sweeps of her wings, coming at last to join them.

But now behind Michennann, peppering the sky, the lizards appeared beating across the face of the glacier. The sense of Kish came predatory and cold. The winged horses needed no urging, they fled above the wild peaks; and the lizards followed, settling into a steady pace, but never drawing closer. Michennann winged near to the white mare who carried Meatha. How scarred she was from battling the lizards. There was a welt across her neck and down her side, and her silver coat was torn with deep scratches. But the sense of her spirit was warm and close, and all enmity between them was now gone and only sympathy remained.

When at last they drew near to Tala-charen, Meatha could feel its power—and feel Lobon’s quickening interest. The dark stallion Lannthenn, who carried him, swept close to the peak and the others followed, hovering so close for a few moments that wingtips nearly touched the cave entrance, and they could see into the cave where Ramad had stood. Meatha shuddered with the power of the place. Here the runestone had split; here Seers had come suddenly out of Time to receive the broken shards.

The cave floor was translucent green like the sea. They all thought how that floor had split, the very mountain split to swallow the bones of the gantroed, then had closed up once more. They thought of Ram and Skeelie there, two young children caught in a clashing of powers that shook all of Ere—that changed all of Ere—and that had brought them here this night on a quest to undo that splitting. It was impossible not to think of the Luff’Eresi, impossible not to think of them as gods, and wonder as men had wondered for generations whether it had been they who had placed the stone in this cave; and whether their powers had touched the stone the night of the splitting.

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