Ширли Мерфи - The Ivory Lyre

The line of soldiers was filing out to where the un-men waited in the passage beyond. The king still paused, staring at Teb.

“You will not leave me here, King Sardira,” Teb said softly. “If our people win, and you have killed me, your own life will be forfeit. They will know—the dragons will know. If the dark should win, you will need me then. Only I can use the lyre to drive the dark back and save you. Don’t ever imagine, King Sardira, that the dark will leave you free. They know, now, what that power was that kept them from conquering you. Roderica confessed it all, in the stadium box.

“They will find the lyre now, King Sardira. You will have no protection, unless I am here to help, to use its power against them.”

The king stared at him openly for a moment, his eyes questioning. Then he moved on through the heavy door behind the last soldier. The door was pushed to so the light died and was locked with a dull clang. The darkness was so complete Teb could not see the bars to which he clung. He stood trying to memorize the exact distance between himself and Gram, between him and Accacia, between himself and the door. It was the kind of cell where one did not expect to be freed except by death.

Chapter 19

Smothered by the darkness, Teb tried to feel some hint of the lyre from somewhere. He was blinded by blackness, could not move beyond bars. Even Seastrider’s voice did not reach him. His very sense of time seemed warped, so he didn’t know if it was still night. The sun had been low when he had left Seastrider on the mountain, the shadow of the mountain itself stretched long across the city when he and Gram had made their way into the palace. He reached out for the lyre’s power and could feel nothing.

But it was there, somewhere in the labyrinth of the dark palace caves. Somewhere giant lizards guarded the Ivory Lyre of Bayzun, and he meant to know where.

Maybe Accacia knew, after all.

He began to question her, weaving his questions slowly, taking his time. She remained silent. He could not see or touch her to make the job easier.

At last she stirred in the darkness with a little rustling sound, and laughed. “Do you really think I would tell you anything, after you got me locked in this cell?”

“If you will tell me where the lyre of Bayzun is hidden, maybe I can get us out of here.”

“What difference would it make to know where it is? If you don’t have it, how could you use it? What could it do anyway against iron bars?”

“Did you believe in dragons before you saw them? Did you believe in the power of bards? The power of the queen?”

She was silent.

“If the dark wins the last battle, Accacia—if the dark were to rule Dacia—do you still think you would become a part of their court? Did you see any special favors when they took us captive in the queen’s chambers?”

“They will come to get me. Once Sardira’s temper cools, he will. They will not let you out, Prince Tebmund. Nor will they release my grandmother, not until they shovel out your bones.”

Teb stared through the blackness. Her grandmother?

But of course, he should have known that. Hadn’t Accacia told him? She seemed to have told him all about her life. He had not been paying attention. Their two mothers, Accacia’s and Kiri’s—they had been sisters. But she was trying to lead him away from talk of the lyre. Did she fear the lyre so much?

“Are the lizards all dead, Accacia? Did they all die in the stadium? Or do some still guard the lyre? Where, Accacia? Where do the lizards now gather?” She sighed, and he heard the faint rustle of her skirt again. “Where, Accacia? Where are the lizards?”

“In the sea vault.”

“Where is the sea vault?”

“Beneath the mountain where it touches the sea on the far side. Sardira hardly ever opens the passage to the sunken cave. There is gold there, and he keeps lizards on the rocks around the cave and in the passages leading to it.”

“How many passages? Where do they begin?”

“One in the sea. One from near the treasure chamber you forced open. That is the one Sardira uses.”

“How close are we to the sea vault?”

She sighed and was silent for a few minutes, as if thinking over the lay of the passages. “Not far, I suppose. I imagine this cave isn’t far from the southern sea cliffs.”

He let the power ease away. All three of them were silent with their own thoughts. He lay down on the cool stone floor of his cell, tired suddenly but his mind alive with new hope. Beneath the mountain where it touched the sea, a passage to a sunken cave . . . He stretched his body long across the stone and felt his tension ease, then reached with his thoughts, toward Seastrider.

*

Within the warring city, within the broken tower, Kiri curled tighter against the stone parapet in fitful sleep, waking each time there was a sound from the street, or when Camery, standing guard, moved quickly to take aim. Kiri would jerk awake, then drop into sleep again, exhausted. Twice when Camery nudged her she was up at once, bow taut, her whole being keyed to sudden action. Then when the danger passed she dropped down to sleep hardly knowing she had stirred. Yet while her mind and body were tuned so tight to war, something within her dreamed of peace. She saw this war as a tiny, insane space in time. She saw all life suddenly and stupidly seeking to destroy itself, and woke angry that there was fighting at all.

But then she woke fully, her mind clearer. It was not all life that was seeking destruction. It was the un-life, the dark evil of the un-men, that sought to destroy the precious gift of life that all human blood and that of the many animals shared. The dark had made those dreams.

She thought of tired rebel soldiers sleeping hidden all over the city, nervous and edgy, waiting for dawn to begin again the terrible battle, and wondered if they had dreamed the same, and shivered. The dark knew it was not easy to fight at night, too easy to kill your own people. Night was a nervous truce breached often enough so guards stood at every shelter. Now the dark had breached that truce in a new and hideous way. She saw Camery yawning and rose to take the bow from her hands.

*

There should have been no new boats docking at the quays, for the three dragons had swamped and sunk every boatload of dark soldiers that moved anywhere in the northerly seas. But well to the south, unlighted boats clung to the black sea close beneath the cliffs of Edosta. They put in silently to Dacia, and the four heavy boats spewed forth horses and troops, the soldiers pulling dark capes over their yellow tunics. The horses had been silenced with wrapped bits and padded shoes. As dawn touched the seam of sky and sea far in the east, these warriors entered the city.

*

On the mountain, Seastrider woke. She lifted her head. Her long muscles tightened and expanded with sudden nerves. She stared up at the black sky, her unease making her shudder all through her long, gleaming body. In her mind she saw Tebriel, where he was held in a dark, close place. She twisted and thrashed, trying to see where, exactly where. This was unclear, but his message of a cave and passage touching the sea was vivid. She slipped out from beneath the trees, her wound making her stiff and slow, and pulled herself up toward the crest of the mountain.

Soon she lay along the crest staring over at the pale wash of the distant sea and the black jumble of the war-torn city unrelieved by any light. She gazed down at the palace, dark and still. She rumbled once deep in her throat, then turned back to examine the mountain again, for it was there, deep within, that she felt the sense of Teb.

She laid her head down along the mountain, crawling and scenting like a hunting snake, her tongue slipping in and out, her head hugging stone and earth and twisting one way, then the other, as she sought down along the mountain’s wild reaches. Her newly forming scar tissue loosened, her hurt muscles warmed and eased until she moved more freely. She scented the inner shapes of the mountain, its caves and passages and the turnings of its rocky coast.