Then the awful day when her frail body was merged with the beast. Its terror and rage swamped her, as its molecules flowed within her human frame. The pain was indescribable, every muscle swelling and cramping. The child was swept away in a sea of blackness. But she had clung on to her individuality, despite the roaring of the beast in her mind. Sensing her presence, the beast had calmed.
Strange dreams followed. She felt herself running on all fours, her great limbs powering her across the plain at terrible speed. Then the leap to the back of the deer, her fangs closing on its neck, dragging it down, warm blood filling her mouth. She almost lost herself in the blood-memory - but she clutched the tiny spark that was Ustarte.
She remembered the day she became aware of voices. 'This new Kraloth does not conform, Lord. It sleeps twenty hours, and when awake seems confused. We have noted tremors in the muscles of its hind legs, and occasional spasms.'
'Kill it,' came a second voice, harsh and cold.
'Aye, Lord.'
The thought of dying flooded Ustarte with a burst of energy, and her spirit flowed up from the dark recesses of the bestial body. She felt again the pull of the flesh, the power of the muscles in her four limbs. Her eyes opened. She reared up, trying to speak. A low, guttural growl rippled from her throat. Her paws struck at the iron bars of the cage. A man in a green tunic pushed a long stick through the bars. Something sharp and bright upon the end of it stabbed into her flesh. Fire flowed into her flanks.
Instinctively she knew it was poison. How she dealt with it remained a mystery to her to this day. She could only assume that the merging had created in her an unforeseen talent, enhancing her lymphatic pathways in such a way that she could draw the poison into her system, breaking it down into component parts and subtly changing it.
She had dropped to her haunches, waiting silently until the poison was dispersed harmlessly. Now she became aware of the thoughts of the three men in the room. One was waiting to go home to his family. Another was thinking of a missed meal. The third was considering murder.
Even as she linked to the thought she felt the man close his mind to her. A golden spell lanced through the bars, flowing over her body with whips of fire. She writhed under this new pain.
So desperate was she to escape it that she fled deep within the bestial body, allowing the beast control. It raged around the cage, slashing its great paws at the bars, bending them. Still the pain increased. Ustarte tried to flee again, surging up through the body, as if trying to claw her way free of the tortured flesh.
And in that moment she found the key that would save her life.
The beast withdrew. The spirit of Ustarte swelled. The body fell to the floor of the cage, writhing and Changing.
When she awoke she was resting in a bed. Her body was no longer quite that of the beast, but neither was it human. Her shoulders and torso were covered in thick, striped fur, her fingers were tipped with retractable talons. 'You are a mystery to me, child,' said a voice. Turning her head, she saw the third man sitting beside the bed. He was wonderfully handsome, his hair golden, his eyes a summer blue. The eyes of a kindly uncle, she thought. Yet there was no kindness in him. 'But we will learn to solve it.'
Two days later she had been taken to a stockaded palace-prison high in the mountains. Here there were other mutations, man-beasts and were-creatures, the subjects of failed experiments. There was a serpent with the face of a child. It was kept in a domed cage of thin wire mesh, and fed on live rats. The creature did not speak, but at night it would make music, high and keening. The sound would tear at Ustarte's soul every night for the five years she was imprisoned in that, awful place.
Unspeakable acts were committed against her body, and she in turn was trained to kill and feed. For two years she refused to kill a human. For two years Deresh Karany, the golden-haired sorcerer, subjected her to dreadful pain. Ultimately the torture broke her resistance, and she learnt to obey. Her first kill had been a young woman, her next a powerful man with only one arm. After that she learnt not to remember the faces and forms of her victims. Time and again Deresh Karany would force her to Change, and once in the bestial form she would be directed against some hapless human. Her long fangs and terrible talons would rip into the frail flesh, tearing off limbs, lapping up blood and crunching brittle bones.
She was a good Kraloth, obedient and trustworthy. Not once - in either of her forms - did she turn on her jailers. Not even a growl. Her obedience was instantaneous. And day by day they grew more complacent about her. They thought they had her beaten. She could read it in their thoughts. Never, since that first day back in the city, had she let them know of her other powers. She was careful not to betray her talent. Ustarte knew that Deresh Karany sensed them. Once he had walked towards her with a dagger in his hand. His thoughts were clear. I am going to ram this blade into your throat.
'Good morning, my lord,' she said.
'Good morning, Ustarte.' He sat beside her. 'I am very pleased with you.'
I am going to kill you!
'Thank you, my lord. What do you require of me?'
He had smiled and sheathed the dagger. 'The creatures in this place are unique; twin forming is so rare. How does it feel when you shift from one form to the other?'
'It is painful, Lord.'
'Which form gives you the most pleasure?'
'Neither gives me pleasure, Lord. In this, my near-human form, I derive some satisfaction from study, from the beauty of the sky. In Kraloth guise I glory in power and strength and the taste of flesh.'
'Yes,' he said, nodding, 'the beast has no perception of abstracts. How then do you control it?'
'I cannot fully control it, Lord. It is wild and savage. It obeys me because it knows I can deny it existence, but it constantly seeks ways to overcome me.'
'The spirit of the tiger remains alive?'
'I believe so.'
'Interesting.' He fell silent and seemed lost in thought. Then he met her gaze. 'Back in the city I sensed you reaching out and touching my mind. You recall this?'
She had waited for this moment, and knew it would be dangerous to offer a complete lie. 'Yes, Lord. It was most mysterious. It was like flowing up from a deep sleep. Suddenly I heard distant voices, though I knew they were not real sounds.'
'And this has not happened since?'
'No, Lord.'
'Let me know if it does.'
'I will, Lord.'
'You are doing well, Ustarte. We are all proud of you.'
'Thank you, Lord. That is most pleasing to me.'
One day, as she strolled in semi-human form, she saw that the small postern gate was unlocked. She stood in the doorway gazing out upon the mountain path leading to the forest. Reaching out with her mind, she sensed the watchers close by, reading their thoughts. The door had been left open for her. Concentrating, she pushed her talent further. Five more guards were hidden behind the rocks some fifty paces from the postern gate. They were armed with spears and two held a strong net.
Ustarte turned away and walked back to the main exercise area.
As the months passed they trusted her more and more. She was used to assist in the training of others like herself. Prial was brought to the prison in chains. He was in his wolf form then, snapping and biting at the guards. Ustarte reached out with her talent, feeling his rage and terror. 'Be calm,' she whispered into his mind. 'Be patient, for our time is coming.'
Waylander sat with the sleeping priestess for a while. Her breathing was even, but the gleam of perspiration on her face showed that her temperature was rising. Moving to the kitchen he filled a bowl with cool water and returned to her side. Taking a cloth he placed it in the water, squeezed out the excess liquid and laid it on her brow. She stirred and the golden eyes opened. 'Feels good,' she whispered. Gently he dabbed the cloth to her cheeks. She slept again.
Waylander rose from the floor and stretched. Then he stood very still and listened. Walking swiftly to the window he drew the shutters closed, then ste
pped out through the door and into the sunshine, pulling closed the door behind him.
Eldicar Manushan and the page, Beric, were crossing the terrace garden and walking along the path to his apartments. The magicker was wearing a pale blue tunic shirt of glimmering silk. His legs were bare, and he wore no boots or shoes. His page was clad only in a loincloth, and he was carrying towels across his shoulder.
'Good day to you, Dakeyras,' said the magicker, with a broad smile.
'And to you. Where are you heading?'
'To the beach. Beric has become fond of it.'
The blond page looked up at his uncle and grinned. 'The water is very cold,' he said.
'You have taken a wrong turn,' said Waylander. 'Go back to the tall yellow rose and turn right. The steps there will take you to the sea.'
Eldicar Manushan glanced at the rough-cut walls of Waylander's apartments. 'I understand you live here,' he said. 'You are a most curious man. You build a palace of great style and beauty and yet live in little more than a cave on a cliff wall. Why is that?'
'I sometimes ask myself the same question,' said Waylander.
'Can we go to the sea now, Uncle?' put in the boy. 'It is getting very hot.'
'You go down, Beric. I will join you presently.'
'Don't be long,' said the child, running back down the path.
'The young have such energy,' observed Eldicar Manushan, moving into the shade of a flowering tree and seating himself on a rock.
'And innocence,' added Waylander.
'Yes. It is always a cause of sadness when it passes. I did not take a wrong turn, Dakeyras. I wanted to speak with you.'
'I am here. Speak.'
'I am sorry for the death of your people. It was not my doing.'
'Just an unfortunate coincidence,' said Waylander.
Eldicar sighed. 'I will not lie to you. My people have formed an alliance with . . . another powerful group. Such is the way of war. What I am saying is that I did not bring the beasts to your palace.'
'What is it you seek here?' asked Waylander. 'This is not rich land.'
'Perhaps not. But it is ours. It was once ruled by my people. We were temporarily defeated by force of arms. We retreated. Now we are coming back. There is nothing overtly evil in this. It is just human. We want what is ours by right, and are willing to fight for it. The question for you is, is this your fight? You are not a native of Kydor. You have a fine palace, servants and the freedom only riches can supply. That will not change. You are a strong and deadly man, but whether for us or against us you can make no discernible difference to the outcome.'
'Then why concern yourself with my friendship?'
'Partly because I like you,' the magicker smiled, 'andpartly because you killed the Bezha. Not many men could have done that. Our cause is not unjust, Dakeyras. This was our land, and it is the way of man to fight for what he believes is just. You agree?'
Waylander shrugged. 'It is said that this land was once below the sea. Does the sea own it? Men hold what they are strong enough to hold. If you can take this land, then take it. But I will think on what you have said.'
'Don't take too long,' advised Eldicar Manushan. He turned to follow his page to the beach, then swung back. 'Did you find the body of the priestess?'
'I found the body of a creature not human,' said Way-lander.
Eldicar Manushan stood silently for a moment. 'She was a Joining. A failed experiment, full of bitterness and hatred. My own lord, Deresh Karany, invested much time and passion in her training. She betrayed him.'
'And he sent the demons?'
Eldicar spread his hands. 'I am only a servant. I do not know all my master's plans.' He strolled away.
Waylander sat for some time outside the apartments. He was a hunter, trained to follow his prey and kill it. This situation was far more subtle, and infinitely more dangerous.
Added to which there was another player in the game, who had not yet shown himself.
Who was Deresh Karany?
During the next three days life in the palace began to return to a semblance of normality. The servants were still nervous, and many purchased ward-charms from stallholders in Carlis, hanging them upon the doors of their rooms, or around their necks. The temple was filled daily with new converts, all anxious to be blessed by Chardyn and the three other priests.
Chardyn himself spent hours every day poring over scrolls and learning, as best he could, the ancient spells said to be useful against demonic possession and manifestation. He also removed an ornate box, hidden below the altar. From this he took two items: a golden ring with a carved carnelian stone at the centre, and a talismanic necklet, both said to have been blessed by the great Dardalion, first Abbot of the Thirty. 'You are a hypocrite,' he told himself, as he looped the necklet over his head.
In the palace hospital many of the wounded soldiers died in agony, despite the use of the crystal supplied to the two surgeons by Waylander. Neither of the men was as skilled as Mendyr Syn. But others survived. They were visited daily by the Duke, and offered encouragement. The crippled were assured they would receive good pensions and parcels of land back near the capital.
Little was seen of Waylander during this time, and all callers to the palace were greeted by Emrin, who informed them that the Gentleman was not in residence.
In the Winter Palace, on the far side of the bay, the Duke began preparations for the celebration feast. The lords of Kydor, Panagyn of House Rishell, Ruall of House Loras, and Shastar of House Bakard, all arrived in Carlis and were given sumptuous suites in three of the towers. Lord Aric, of House Kilraith, occupied the fourth tower. Invitations to the feast were sent to all the heads of the minor noble families, and a handful of wealthy merchants, including the Grey Man.
There was great excitement among the invited, for those who had already seen the wondrous talents of Eldicar Manushan had spread the word. And the magicker had promised a night to remember for all the guests.
A little to the west of the Grey Man's apartments was a sheltered ledge, hidden from the palace above by a jutting overhang. Here there were several bench seats, created from split logs, surrounding the sanded stump of a huge tree. The Grey Man was stretched out on one of the benches. To his right sat Ustarte the priestess, dressed now in a green robe of silk. Her face was still grey and her eyes reflected both weariness and pain. On the bench opposite sat Yu Yu Liang and Kysumu.
Yu Yu's shoulder was healing fast, but he found himself wishing he was back in his hospital bed. Ustarte had tried to question him about his experiences with the spirits of the original Riaj-nor. Yu Yu found it hard now to remember all that he had been told. Much of it was beyond him anyway, and he hadn't understood it even when it was being relayed to him by the spirit of Qin Chong. There was a feeling of tension in the air. The Grey Man was stretched out on his side, resting on one elbow, but his face was stern, his eyes locked to Yu Yu's face. It was most disconcerting. The priestess was disappointed, and only Kysumu seemed relaxed and at ease. Yu Yu guessed this was merely an outward show.
'I am sorry,' he said in Chiatze. 'I remember the tall man coming to me. I remember he called me pria-shath, which Kysumu said means Lantern Bearer. Then he took my hand and we flew. High through clouds and under stars. And all the time he was talking to me. I thought I was remembering it, but when I awoke it started slipping away. Sometimes things come back to me - like when I remembered about how the magic of the swords could be passed on. But most of it is gone.'
The Grey Man swung his legs to the ground and sat up. 'When I spoke to you in the grounds of the palace,' he said, 'you told me we had to find the Men of Clay. You remember?'
'Yes, the Men of Clay. I remember that.'
'Who are they?'
'They wait in the Dome. That's what he told me. They wait for the Lantern Bearer.'
'And where is the Dome?'
'I don't know. I can't think any more.' Yu Yu was feeling agitated now.
Kysumu laid a hand on his arm. 'Stay ca
lm, Yu Yu. All will be well.'
'I don't see how,' muttered Yu Yu. 'I am an idiot.'
'You are the Chosen, the pria-shath. That is why you were drawn here,' said Kysumu. 'So sit calmly and let us continue to seek the truth. You agree?'
Yu Yu leant back and closed his eyes. 'Yes, I agree. But my mind is emptying. I can feel it all washing away.'
'It will come back. Qin Chong told you that you must find the Men of Clay, who live in a place called the Dome. He said these Men of Clay were waiting for the Lantern Bearer. Did you see the Men of Clay in your travels with Qin Chong?'
'Yes! Yes, I did. It was after a great battle. There were thousands of warriors - men like you, Kysumu, in robes, some of grey, some white and some crimson. They knelt and prayed on the battlefield and then they drew lots. Certain of the warriors then moved away from the others. They walked into the hills. Qin Chong was with them. He was with them and with me, if you take my meaning. And he said, "These are the Men of Clay."'
'This is good,' said Kysumu. 'What else did Qin Chong say to you?'
'He said I must find them. At the Dome. Then we floated again, over hills and valleys, and across a bay, and we sat in a little wood, and he told me of his life, and asked about mine. I told him I dug ditches and foundations, and he said that was an honourable occupation. Which, of course, it is, for without foundations you couldn't—'
'Yes, yes,' said Kysumu, allowing his irritation to show. 'But let us return to the Men of Clay. Did he mention them again?'