Ah! I see that strikes a chord in you. Yes, child, the remote and inhospitable land of Tuzamen was one such outpost of the Star Men, and the sorcerer you know as both Orogastus and Portolanus is the first of his kind to attempt to reclaim the ancient heritage of the Guild—the domination of the world.
Yes … Orogastus is alive. It was Denby, the Archimage of the Sky, who long ago foresaw his coming; but he elected to do nothing beyond calling the dire future event to the attention of Binah and me. She and I worked together for nearly nine hundreds to nurture the human bloodline that culminated in you and your triplet sisters, the Three Petals of the Living Trillium, hoping that you would have the vigor to counteract this most dangerous of Star Men.
The flower emblem, which is symbolic of the Triune God and also of the physical, mental, and magical nature of the universe, dates back to the Vanished Ones—as does the many-rayed star of their wicked antagonists. The Black Trillium, however, is a living thing—for all that it nearly became extinct—while the Star is as lifeless and consuming as death, even though it is beautiful.
You three sisters, empowered by the magical amulets Binah fashioned for you, were permitted to reclaim the talismans that make up the dread ancient Threefold Sceptre. Once again, it was the ineffable Denby who determined that this magical implement offered the only way to save the world from the Star, even though its use posed great peril. Then, contradicting his own discovery, Denby counseled against letting you girls reassemble the three talismans. He judged that the world was better off ruled by the wicked Star Guild rather than possibly destroyed by the Threefold Sceptre of Power.
Binah and I did not agree.
And so you young princesses went on your quests, and were successful in retrieving the three talismans. And at your great moment of testing, the Lords of the Air guided you in the right way to utilize the Sceptre of Power.
Orogastus was taken from you, banished to a place where a certain occult device called the Cynosure of the Star Guild had been placed for safekeeping by an Archimage long forgotten. The star pendant hanging around his neck was the sorcerer’s salvation—for without it, he would have been consumed as a feather is consumed in an inferno once the Sceptre turned his own magic upon him. As it was, the protective Cynosure drew him and the pendant to it, saving his life. This was a terrible surprise to me, for I had never suspected that the Star Men had managed to fashion any sort of countermeasure against the Sceptre.
While Orogastus still lay senseless I hastened to the Kimilon through the viaduct and took away the Cynosure. I feared that it might have other unknown functions that might allow the exiled sorcerer to escape. The Cynosure lies on my worktable in the corner at this minute. I have studied it for years, and found no other use for it than the one it first demonstrated.
Orogastus did not understand how or why he had survived. He still does not. During the twelve years of his exile in the Inaccessible Kimilon, he pored over the ancient repositories of forbidden knowledge that had been hidden away there, seeking a way to escape the Land of Fire and Ice and resume his interrupted mission of conquest.
By a continual exertion of magic, I was able to conceal the viaduct from him. But I could not prevent him from learning how to use a certain other machine, a mechanical communicator of the speech without words, to summon rescuers. The decrepit bespeaker device worked only once. But that was sufficient to bring the sorcerer’s minions to the land of the Dorok, where the one called Shiki was compelled to help Orogastus escape. The sorcerer took with him from the Kimilon many ancient weapons and other devices that later helped him to subdue Tuzamen. After further study, he also obtained the star-box, another countermeasure of the Star Men that Binah and I never knew existed. Denby may have known of it, but he never said a word to us.
I do not know whether we two Archimages would have dared to resurrect the Sceptre, had we known that its parts might be taken away from the Three Petals and bonded to Orogastus. But what was done is done.
Now the sorcerer has already made one part of the Sceptre of Power his own. He does not yet know how to use it, but he will learn, through happenstance and experimentation and the talisman’s own subtle teaching, just as you three sisters have.
Full knowledge of the Threefold Sceptre’s use, and the use of the talismans that are its parts, comes only from the assembled Sceptre itself. No one now living knows its entire potential. You three young princesses were not permitted to obtain this dangerous knowledge. Denby and I impelled you to break the Sceptre apart, immediately after Orogastus was banished, so that the peril to the world would be minimized. You girls were very immature then and your wills were susceptible to our coercion. This is no longer true. For better or worse, you now control your own destinies, and the fate of the world is in your hands.
If Orogastus should obtain all three talismans—or perhaps even two of them—you and I would probably be unable to prevent him from discovering most of their secrets. He is a mature sorcerer, hardened by long years of deprivation, and his will is extremely strong. Even the merged magic of all three Archimages would be hard-pressed to break the Star Man’s volition, so powerfully attuned has he become to his abominable goal. The Archimage of the Sky is quite afraid of Orogastus. I fear that Denby would not have the courage to stand up to him. It matters little to the Dark Man of the Sky after all, that the world falls out of balance and its human population and Folk become subjected to the malign rule of the Star. His own comfortable circumstances would be little affected …
But let us not dwell upon such horrid contingencies. You are here at last—and while I cannot advise you on the working of the entire Sceptre, I can and will help you learn to use your own talisman as best I can. Yours is the key talisman, after all. The Triune willing, you will use it to find a way to defeat Orogastus once and for all. Three tennights should see the task of education accomplished. The lessons will be difficult, for they involve self-discipline even more than the accumulation of knowledge. But I have confidence in you, Haramis-who-will-brook-no-nonsense. You will win through …
Now. Let me bring in the special dessert I prepared in your honor—a delicious fish-egg custard!
16
Kadiya and Shiki hid in a thicket that hedged a stream along one margin of the Aliansa village. The stormy sky was beginning to clear and the small creatures of the island forest seemed to be tuning up to resume their interrupted nocturnal songs. Swollen by the rain, the creek brawled over rocks in the darkness, and Kadiya and Shiki had forded it with extreme care. In the village, where scores of tall torches had been set out around the compound, more than three hundred Sea Folk were engaged in a ceremonial dance around the two child-victims pegged out in the mud, singing in their deep voices and playing upon simple instruments.
Prominent in the native orchestra were a great many drums.
The primitive music, the splashing stream, and the animal sounds masked any noise Kadiya and Shiki made as they crept through the last bit of cover and prepared to make their move. He was armed with the stout hand-catapult traditional to the Dorok Folk and a broad blade nearly the length of a short-sword. Kadiya’s only weapon was a small belt-knife.
“I will stride out boldly among them when the ceremony of sacrifice begins,” she said. “The Aliansa will remember me from our earlier conference and think that I still have the Three-Lobed Burning Eye to defend me. If my bluff works, I will free the children and take them up into my arms and return to you here. You must guard us from any pursuit as we flee … If the ruse fails, I will attempt to kill enough of the brutes so that you may take advantage of the confusion and rescue the children yourself while the Aliansa are dealing with me.”
“But then you will surely perish!” Shiki said.
Kadiya made an impatient gesture. “If I do, you must take the children away from here and hide with them. My sister Anigel will find you through her magic and eventually come to your aid … Look! There is something going on in the big council house. We will not have to wait
much longer.”
“Lady, at least take my knife,” Shiki pleaded, holding out the blade.
“No. It is too large to conceal in my garments. I must walk out boldly into their midst.” Her hand clasped the warm amulet hanging around her neck, a drop of honey-amber in which was embedded the fossil blossom of a small flower. A wry smile played over her lips. “Perhaps this charm will protect me, just as it seemed to bring me and the boy safe to shore.”
“Do you think the amulet might fend off your attackers—or perhaps even kill them?” Shiki’s face now lost some of its grim hopelessness. The rescue plan of the Lady of the Eyes had seemed to him clumsy and unlikely of success, but he had not dared to voice his doubts to her. However, if this amulet of hers was truly magical …
Kadiya let the amber drop onto her bosom with a sigh. “It certainly will not kill. As for helping me in other ways, its magic was ever capricious. One had to believe in it firmly if it was to work. In truth, I do not know whether I can now do that—now that I must act cold-bloodedly, as an adult, rather than in a panic or as a trusting child. In times past, when I was but a simpleminded girl, this trillium-amber shielded me from the evil sorcerer’s Sight, and carried me safe through the air when I jumped from a great height, and guided me through a fearful swampy wilderness. Tonight, it again appeared to carry me through the air, away from the waterspout. But I was beside myself when I asked its help, not commanding it deliberately. And—and I may have only imagined that a miracle took place. Tolo and I could have been flung ashore by a great wave, rather than by magic.”
“There was so much of a commotion on the beach that I could not tell the manner of your arriving,” Shiki admitted.
“When the boy and I were out in the sea, I thought also that I heard the voice of a woman long dead—she who gave me the amulet and sent me on my life-quest. But this also I might have imagined.”
“I know little of magic,” Shiki said slowly. “But in most difficult endeavors, one must have confidence in order to succeed. May I dare to suggest that you should muster confidence in this amulet of yours so that it will grant success in our rescue attempt?”
“Your advice is good,” Kadiya said. “Whether I can follow it, another matter. I am accustomed to relying on myself—and upon a certain precious object that was lately stolen from me. Without this object—this talisman—I am not the woman I once was.”
She related briefly how she had lost her talisman, and how Portolanus had retrieved the Three-Lobed Burning Eye from the depths, and what the loss of one part of the great Sceptre of Power meant to her and her sisters and perhaps to the entire world. Then she concluded: “You must see, Friend Shiki, what a poor substitute this drop of amber is for that which I have lost.”
Shiki placed his three-fingered hand gently upon her shoulder. “The amber surely retains its magic. Did it not fly back to its mistress when the wicked sorcerer would have seized it?”
“That is true … From the time of my birth, when the Archimage Binah gave it to me, the amulet and I were never separated. It embedded itself in the talisman when the Three-Lobed Burning Eye became my own. And when I lost that talisman, it was as if the heart had been torn from my body!”
“And yet it is the amber, not the talisman, that has been truly yours since your birth. Have you considered, Lady, that your greatest loss might not have been the talisman at all—but the amber?”
Kadiya stared at him, speechless.
Shiki smiled encouragement. “And now you have it back. There is no good reason not to trust in its magic. And in yourself.”
“If you could be right …” Her mind worked furiously as she stared at the leaping Aliansa out in the torchlit clearing. Their dance was becoming more frenzied and the drumbeats so rapid that they blended into an unending roar, obliterating the singing and the sound of the other instruments.
“Lady Kadiya, it is good to question one’s self, and not to trust too firmly in one’s own ability to recognize truth. That way lies arrogance. What is not good is surrendering to doubt—using it as an excuse for bad actions, or no action at all. This is a kind of pride, and evil. Can you understand? Certain gifts are vouchsafed to each person at birth and we must use them as best we can. If you were born to lead, then do it. If the role of leader is taken away, be accepting. If it is your role to be a conduit for magic, accept that as well—but not proudly, as if you deserved power. Know your limitations, Lady, but dare to exceed them when a greater good than yourself impels you to act. Yes, you may fail. But therein is no disgrace, but rather transcendence.”
The drums stopped.
Kadiya embraced Shiki, kissing him on the forehead. “Thank God you were sent.” She took a deep breath. “Once my sister Anigel escaped unseen from her captors with the aid of her own amulet of trillium-amber. On another occasion she was able to disable enemy sentries by approaching them invisible. I never could stomach such a stratagem myself, for my style of action has ever been straightforward and bold rather than artful. But now I am going to accept your advice … and open myself. If I can indeed be a simple conduit for magic, then I beseech the Lords of the Air to use me as they will. My own doubts and impatience are unimportant. The only thing that matters is saving poor little Nikalon and Janeel. Shiki—are you ready?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Forget my earlier plan.” Her eyes glittered in the firelight. “Only be alert, and when the moment seems right, carry off the captive children.”
She vanished.
There were now about fifty armed Aliansa warriors gathered about the two mud-splattered little forms staked out in the middle of the compound. The other natives were massed further back, among the emplanted torches. Nikalon and Janeel had lain motionless, as though unconscious, from the time Kadiya and Shiki had first approached the clearing; but now, with the cessation of the barbaric music, they stirred.
The Crown Prince turned his head toward his sister and spoke to her. She managed a tremulous smile. Then the two children lay utterly still, their eyes fixed on the starry sky. Ten-year-old Janeel wore nothing but a soiled shift, while the Prince was clad only in his loincloth.
From out of the largest hut came the Aliansa leader Har-Chissa, closely followed by another native bearing a large package. The High Chief’s inhuman body was magnificently decked in a pearl-studded cloth-of-gold kilt and a stomacher and upstanding collar of gold mesh inset with pearls and precious coral. Ropes of pearls twined about his furry limbs. Every skin-scale of his back, chest, upper arms, and thighs was adorned with a design done in gold or crimson paint. His protuberant yellow eyes were painted round with scarlet, and strapped to his forehead was a gem-encrusted frontlet bearing a great curved horn of pearl set in a golden socket.
Har-Chissa intoned a questioning phrase in the tongue of the Aliansa. The mob of warriors and other Sea Folk chanted an enthusiastic reply. Then the drums began to beat again in a slow, intricate rhythm—deep booming notes and thunderous rolls from the largest drums, many-pitched tunking, harsh taps, and ominous rattling tattoos from the drums of medium size, and strident insectlike sounds from the smallest drums.
Har-Chissa stalked into the middle of the open space. He bent over Princess Janeel, and with a single sweep of one great hand, ripped the flimsy shift from her body. She could not help uttering a shocked cry, but then she was silent, as was Crown Prince Nikalon beside her, who continued to gaze steadily at the sky while his eyes filled with tears.
As the drumming accelerated slightly and intensified in volume, Har-Chissa beckoned to the attendant who had stood some distance back. She was an elderly female, dressed almost as grandly as the Chief, and she knelt now before him and unrolled the package she had carried.
It was full of knives.
The watching throng gave an encouraging shout.
Har-Chissa gestured for them to be still. Then, with the drumming lending drama to his deliberation, he studied the neat rows of shining blades, which were arranged according to size. Finally
he drew out a very small pearl-handled scalpel that glittered in the torchlight. Moving with the complex tempo of the drums, he began to brandish the knife above the little Princess, miming the actions that would strip the skin from her living body. With each ritual gesture, the Sea Folk howled approval.
Then the drumming stopped.
Har-Chissa lifted one of Janeel’s slender arms and bent down with the scalpel poised.
Shiki lifted his slingshot and prepared to shoot one of the leaden balls that served the Dorok as missiles. Unfortunately, the scaly head of the Aliansa leader with its horned frontlet was a distant, uncertain target.
But wait—
Abruptly, Har-Chissa’s long neck arched and his head flew back. His muzzle gaped, his black tongue protruded from between his tusks, and he screamed in surprise. The skinning knife flew from his hand and arced oddly through the air, reflecting the torches, so that it seemed like a small flame itself. The scalpel slowed, then hovered in an uncanny fashion immediately behind the Chief. Frantically, Har-Chissa sought to tear the great pearl-horned headpiece from his brow. To the stunned spectators, the ceremonial frontlet seemed to have come to malignant life, forcing the leader’s head back farther, farther, until his unscaled throat with its tawny fur was fully exposed. The fiery little scalpel flashed like a meteor as it came swiftly forward.
Across the throat of the Aliansa High Chief a crimson line appeared. It widened and began to gush darkly, and Har-Chissa’s despairing scream bubbled and dwindled to a horrible hissing moan. He began to topple. Hot blood flooded over Princess Janeel’s body, covering her nakedness. She closed her eyes but made no sound.
Har-Chissa had fallen in the midst of a spreading pool of red. Bloody footprints sprang into being about the two supine children. At the same time Shiki slithered through the undergrowth to get even closer, confident that none of the shouting, horrified Sea Folk would be watching the trees.