Haramis suppressed a smile. Evidently this Archimage was not one to stand upon ceremony, nor did her mental voice sound in the least pompous or condescending. Haramis had tried to avoid speculating about what kind of personage she was about to meet. Officially, they were equals; actually, they would be student and tutor. She prayed only that this fellow-Archimage would be straightforward, and not as feeble and enigmatic as Binah had been. She needed help of a practical sort, not exposure to more mystery. Kadiya’s talisman was almost surely lost to Portolanus, and Anigel’s would very likely be given to the sorcerer in ransom before long. If she herself did not master her own talisman soon, there was no doubt in her mind that Portolanus would achieve his goal of mastering the world.
Denby thinks that is a foregone conclusion. But you and I will show him a thing or two! As to being practical … that, my dear, is entirely your affair. I’m certainly not one to let myself be starstruck by a charming enchanter—but I’m not at all sure about you!
Haramis uttered a low cry of outrage, then drew herself up and grimly resumed her journey into the heart of the sham iceberg. She spoke to thin air:
“It is evident, Lady of the Sea, that you can perceive my thoughts. But I doubt very much if you can read my conscience. I come to you as a supplicant, it’s true, and if your teaching can only be done through the shattering of my dignity, then so be it. But I had hoped for a warmer and more friendly relationship. I know I am young in comparison to you, but I am not a child, nor am I a fool. I have ever carried out my duties as Archimage to the best of my ability, not letting myself be distracted by any person or thing—”
—yet! But you will be, proud one! Just as you once were twelve years ago, before you assumed your cloak of office. Not only distracted from duty, but strongly tempted to evil. Admit it!
Haramis stopped short. “I will not try to justify myself. It is true that I once loved the sorcerer Orogastus and was briefly led astray by his vision of power. But I repudiated him. If he is still alive, as I suspect, I will try with all my heart and soul to reject him again and foil his evil design … But I need your help desperately. Will you give it?”
I would not have summoned you through the viaduct otherwise. But you proved your resolution by going to the Kimilon, so I decided you were a fit subject for special treatment—never mind what Denby thinks. Not only the balance of the world, but even its very existence is endangered by the resurgence of the abominable Star! Drastic measures are called for in desperate situations! Denby thought Binah was a lunatic to risk setting the Threefold Sceptre of Power free to countermand the threat, and he got all in a swivet when she arranged for you three to be born. Nevertheless, even he admitted that the Star Man would have got hold of the Sceptre sooner or later, even without the mistakes you three Trillium Petals have made. Binah gambled that given time, you’d be able to resolve the menace once and for all in spite of your silly fumbling. Fresh young blood, fresh young minds tackling the ancient problem. You see?
“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Haramis suddenly felt freezing cold, even though the air within the artificial iceberg was quite warm. She drew her white furs more closely around her and spoke sharply. “Explain yourself, Archimage! Tell me just what kind of danger threatens the world and what role my sisters and I are to play in thwarting it. I warn you that I have no intention of being fobbed off with mystical flummery or evasions any longer.”
Ha-ha! Full of spirit! I like that. Come ahead, Haramis-who-will-brook-no-nonsense! We’re going to get along splendidly.
The Way of Light ended when the tiny arm of the sea pinched off in the narrowing corridor, leaving Haramis standing upon a glowing platform. Three tunnels branched out from it, but only one was illuminated. She followed it for a considerable distance more, growing light-headed from the illusion of being suspended in ice-choked bright water. The hordes of creatures had deserted her, evidently having seen enough; and now the water behind the transparent walls showed only an occasional indistinct shape finning by. As she continued on, the illumination slowly dimmed, as if she were getting farther and farther from its source. The aqueous colors shifted to deeper hues—ultramarine blue and jade green, shadowed with violet.
And then there was a door, opaque white, with a great ring-latch of silver that resisted her pull. She touched it with her talisman and once again the bell-chime sounded that had signaled the mysterious viaduct. The door swung open to darkness.
Resolutely, Haramis went in. She stood frozen as the door closed, leaving her with only the pale yellow glow of the trillium-amber embedded in the talisman to reassure her that she had not gone blind.
A low chuckle sounded. “Give yourself a moment to adjust. Then you’ll see well enough. My old eyes aren’t what they used to be, and this situation is most comfortable for me. Give me your hand …”
Tentatively, Haramis lifted her arm. She felt her hand grasped by fingers that were damp but not unpleasant, and she was drawn forward for a dozen steps. There was a salty tang in the air, and a lingering reverberation from the chime that seemed to call forth other subdued musical notes from somewhere in the darkness.
“Here we are. Do you feel the chair? Be seated while I fetch our supper.”
Groping about, Haramis managed to slide onto an oddly shaped wide stool without a back. Its sides and legs seemed to be studded all over with irregular smooth knobs, and the seat-cushion was warm and yielding, beyond doubt filled with liquid. It was very comfortable.
Sitting in the dark, waiting, she discovered that her vision was returning. She was in a large chamber filled with faintly luminescent furnishings. The table with its two chairs was made of cemented shells, each one of which was pricked out in a spiral of tiny green dots. On the table were dishes and goblets, also fashioned from shells, that glowed dimly rose and topaz. Flecks of azure and crimson formed flowing patterns on the floor. Here and there about the room were great urns, also made of the green-dotted shells, in which feathery plants like giant ferns grew, having a dim orange luster beneath their leaves.
Arrayed along one wall were cupboards, outlined in blue sparks and having knobs that glowed dull red. On another wall was a huge mural of deep-sea life, where abyssal creatures with luminous eyes and fins and fiery body markings seemed to hang in dark water or rest on coral formations dusted with tiny white stars.
One of the daintily poised creatures moved, and Haramis realized that the mural was alive, not a picture at all but a huge window looking out into the depths of the night sea.
All around her, as her eyes became accustomed to the dimness, subtly glowing objects seemed to materialize. In one corner of the room stood a wide workbench, and on it were numbers of peculiar metallic objects that gleamed in the reflected light of the shelly surface on which they stood. In another corner was a globe nearly as tall as she was, and she realized with a start that it was a model of the world, with the seas glowing a rich indigo and the land areas faintly greenish gold or white.
Ranks of shelves held books bound in ordinary cloth and leather, each one having luminous characters on the spine. More books were carelessly stacked here and there on the floor, and one lay open on a shell reading-stand beside an easy chair. Haramis was not surprised to note that the lettering inside the book was luminous. A tufted footstool stood in front of the chair, and lying beside it on the floor was a whitish, segmented, many-legged creature with two baleful, red-glowing eyes. When it sensed Haramis studying it, it opened its mouth, revealing a luminous yellow interior with several rows of fangs, and hissed.
“Now, Grigri! Be polite to our guest!”
A pair of dull purple draperies that Haramis had failed to notice was flung open. The Archimage of the Sea entered, bearing a platter with a great steaming tureen and several covered dishes. She put this down on the table and stood there smiling. “Can you see well enough now?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“My name is Iriane. Some call me the Blue Lady. Welcome to my home, Arc
himage of the Land.”
She was human in form, not fishy, which was a relief to Haramis. Her stature was medium, but she was extremely stout, with a face as round as a melon and gleaming faintly blue. Her features were exquisitely beautiful and her eyes especially so, being enormous and black and fringed with thick lashes. Her hair was also black—or perhaps very dark blue—dressed in elaborate rolls and coils that were held by shell combs and pins with enormous pearls on them. She wore a sleeveless gown of indigo blue that flowed ungathered to the floor. Tiny spangles on it formed stylized designs of marine growth. At her shoulders were two pearl brooches, clasping a filmy midnight-blue cloak that floated behind her, glowing dimly.
Iriane held out a hand to Haramis, who rose and took it with a calm inclination of her head. Then, with surprising grace, the stout Archimage seated herself. She prayed a brief blessing of the Triune and the Lords of the Air, then helped herself lavishly from the tureen.
“Eat, child, eat. You must be starving after your journey from the Kimilon. You’ve been three hours traveling, you know.”
“It did not seem so long … Tell me: How far is it from the Kimilon to the shore of the Aurora Sea where the viaduct took me?”
“Over three thousand of your leagues.”
“Amazing! And I was transported in the blink of an eye. Your magic is very powerful, Lady.”
“Yes,” Iriane agreed. “But the viaduct is not part of it. You traveled by means of an ancient machine having no true magic about it.”
“Ah. A device of the Vanished Ones?”
“Yes. There were once viaducts scattered all over the world. In the ancient days, they were commonly used for transporting unadept members of the populace here and there. Now only a handful of them remain usable.”
Haramis took modest portions of food. Its nature was utterly strange, but it smelled appetizing enough. A golden ewer held some liquid that had a sweet and spicy fragrance, and she filled her shell cup and drank deep before speaking again.
“Lady Iriane, you know why I am here. I need to know how to use this talisman, this Three-Winged Circle, properly. I must also have your advice on how to overcome the sorcerer Portolanus, who has already stolen one talisman from my sister Kadiya, and who threatens to take the second from my sister Anigel. I would also like you to tell me whatever you know of the Vanished Ones, and their Sceptre of Power that the three talismans compose. I also hope that you will explain to me the difference between true magic and the high science that activates certain of the marvelous ancient contrivances—and how magic and science intermingle in the conflict between Portolanus and the Three Petals of the Living Trillium.”
Iriane sighed and set down her spoon. She sipped some of her own drink, then said: “Some of your questions I cannot answer, Haramis. Others demand lengthy responses, and I must postpone them until later. Let me answer your easiest question first … by telling you the story of the Vanished Ones.”
Twelve times ten hundreds ago [Iriane said], the World of the Three Moons was home to a large population of human beings. They came here from elsewhere, from another place far beyond the firmament, and used their great knowledge to transform certain aspects of this world, so that it would be more suited to their life-needs.
In the course of time, a faction of selfish power-seekers arose, calling itself the Guild of the Star. They were skilled in science, and also skilled in the magical arts that have their source in the human mind and the inmost nature of the universe. The Star Men and their adherents brought about a devastating war that lasted for over two hundreds. In the course of it, their weapons and evil magic not only killed nearly half the populace, but also changed the very climate of the world, bringing about an Age of Conquering Ice.
As you know, the world-continent even today is sheathed with a vast Sempiternal Icecap. Only at its fringes and in the south is there glacier-free land. But in the time before the Ice Age only the highest mountains had glaciers upon them. The world-continent then had a gentle climate overall, and there were many huge lakes dotted with beautiful islands where the most elaborate cities were built. When the endless snowstorms began, all of these inland cities were perforce abandoned, and only those along the shore or under the sea or in the lower firmament remained inhabited.
The Guild of the Star fought more fiercely than ever when it lost the support of the common people and even the most sanguine members realized that the cause was lost. When it seemed that the Star Men would destroy the world utterly rather than capitulate, the magical device called the Sceptre of Power was created by the Archimagical College to turn the Star Men’s own terrible sorcery against them. But there was a tremendous danger involved in utilizing the Sceptre, and in the end those who had made it were afraid to use it.
The headquarters of the Star Men was finally destroyed by one of the world’s greatest heroes, the Archimage Varcour, and those villains who remained alive scattered to the four winds, ending the war. But the World of the Three Moons was ruined. No amount of science or benevolent magic exerted by the Archimages could restore the temperate climate of what had once been a beautiful and happy land. The world-continent could no longer support large numbers of human beings, and neither could the ice-choked sea or the more precarious habitations of the inner firmament.
Most of the survivors made preparations to go away to another home far beyond the outer firmament. But a group of thirty brilliant and altruistic souls of the Archimagical College, including the great Varcour, decided to remain and do what they could to repair the terrible damage that humanity had caused. One of their principal good works was the engendering of a new race, more hardy than humanity, that might multiply and repopulate the devastated World of the Three Moons after thousands of years had passed and the ice finally began to melt.
When human beings first came to this world, the most highly developed aborigines they found were the primitive and unrelentingly savage Skritek. These warm-blooded, scaly monsters were minimally self-aware and of low intellect, but they did possess the power to communicate both with and without words. They knew nothing of love, had no art or culture, and lived a predatory existence. In their revolting manner of reproduction, the mother was more often than not devoured by her ravenous young at their birth.
Using both science and magic, the savants of the Archimagical College merged the blood of these unpromising creatures with that of humankind, creating the handsome and intelligent people that you know as the Vispi. At the same time, a companionate race of telepathic giant birds called lammergeiers was also created to assist the Vispi in their survival. Colonies of newly engendered Vispi and lammergeiers were planted all around the diminished margin of the world-continent before the bulk of the human population went away, becoming the Vanished Ones.
At the last minute before departure, a few thousand ordinary people elected to remain behind also, to assist the Archimages and eke out whatever life they could amidst the Conquering Ice. These formed the nucleus of the human population living on the World of the Three Moons today.
As hundred after hundred passed by, the raging snowstorms came to an end and the climate slowly warmed again, melting the inland glacial cap little by little and freeing dry land for habitation once more. Guided with subtle discretion by the Archimages, the Vispi multiplied—but so did the surviving Skritek. From time to time miscegenation occurred and many other aboriginal races came into being, more or less human in appearance. Humans also occasionally mated with the Vispi, so that traces of aboriginal blood now exist in virtually all of us.
Since human beings are inherently more fertile than the aborigines, our race increased at a more rapid pace. After thousands and thousands of years, the most fertile and salubrious lands were entirely occupied by humanity, while the aborigines lived in the marginal areas—the high mountains, the swamps, the deep forest, and the remote islands. The members of the Archimagical College retired from the secret Place of Knowledge built by Varcour to individual retreats, where we continued to f
oster and guide both humans and aborigines. Using our ancient science, we are able to live to a great age. Often, a dying Archimage is able to train a replacement; but this did not always prove possible, and over the succeeding tens of hundreds our numbers slowly diminished, as did the need for our services to humans.
And now, my dear, we Archimages are only three: you, I myself, and Denby. As Archimage of the Land, your work is the most urgent and strenuous. My own is much less so, and Denby has the least of all to do, and so he has grown crotchety and self-indulgent and reclusive, largely ignoring both humanity and Folk and spending his time in the study of arcane celestial trivia—much good may it do him!
Your predecessor, Binah, elected to live in the Peninsula, since the greatest concentration of intelligent aborigines now resides there. The other enclaves of Folk scattered about the world-continent either fended adequately enough for themselves without an Archimagical guardian, or were superintended by me. Most of my own clients live on the myriad scattered islands in the far northwest of the world, where few humans go.
In the immediate past the principal tasks of the Archimages have included shielding aborigines who were in danger of being exterminated by hostile humans, and collecting and disposing of dangerous or inappropriate artifacts of the Vanished Ones that turned up in the ancient ruined cities. It is only in the most recent times that an entirely new problem manifested itself—once again endangering the balance of the World of the Three Moons.
I refer to the reappearance of the Star Men.
Unknown to the Archimagical College, the evil Guild did not die out when its last members fled. Somehow, they lived on and passed their knowledge of the Dark Powers from generation to generation. There were never very many of them, for they are jealous and secretive. Their strongholds tended to be in places where the human strain was least diluted by the blood of the Folk, and numbers of them possessed the robust physique, platinum hair, and silvery-blue eyes of the original criminal elite faction of the Vanished Ones …