Magda never knew how she stifled a yell. She withdrew swiftly down the stairs, and Vanessa, watching her precipitate retreat, snatched out her knife and stood braced.
But nothing happened. Silence; no outcry, no rousing of the legions, no outraged hordes pouring down the stairs with weapons raised. Was she fast asleep? Didn’t she see me? Did she decide to let me go for Jaelle’s sake or because we used to be friends?
Then, stealthily, Rafaella came down the stairs. Vanessa held her little knife at the ready, but Rafaella gestured to her to put it away and motioned them all to a safe distance from the stairway.
“You can put it away, Vanessa n’ha Yllana,” she said. “If you are leaving, I’m going with you.”
“You had me fooled,” Magda said in an undertone.
“Oh, don’t deceive yourself,” Rafaella said sourly. “You haven’t converted me to the rightness of your cause, or anything like that. I still think Jaelle would be better advised to work with them than with that other crew. But I don’t like what they’ve done to Lexie and I don’t want them doing it to me.”
“Do you by any chance know the way out?”
“I think I can find it. I’ve been in and out twice since the storm.” Rafaella led the way swiftly through the other large doorway and into a chamber strewn with rubble and rocks. Phosphorescent fungus shed an eerie light from the walls, and the torchlight wavered on giant formations of limestone, pale and gleaming like bone, folded and layered most marvelously. “Careful here. It’s wet and dripping all through here, but at least the water’s pure and good drinking, and there’s plenty of it.” She scooped up a handful from a little stream that ran downhill beside where they were climbing.
“If you get lost again in here remember to follow the stream uphill. If you follow it down it leads way down— I’ve only been down three or four levels; they say there are at least ten levels below this, and some of them are filled with old books and artifacts from a time—they must be thousands of years old. Lexie went down and saw a few of them and said there had evidently been a time of very high technology on Darkover, though none of it looked Terran. Which surprised her. She said Darkover was once a Terran colony, but this was completely different. Then Acquilara told her that it was before; that there was a whole civilization before humans colonized this world. You’re the specialist, Margali, all that stuff would interest you, and Mother Lauria would go crazy over it, but it’s not for me.”
At the far end of this chamber lay a gleam of light— not daylight, but a faint glimmer somehow different in quality from the guttering torchlight. From it they could all feel a faint breath of the terrible chill outside. Magda shivered, buttoned up her heavy jacket, drew on her gloves. Vanessa arranged her blanket snugly over her shoulders like a mountain man’s plaid. Four abreast, they moved stealthily toward the entry.
Magda always swore that for what happened next there was no natural explanation. Vanessa said she came from the staircase and they never stopped arguing about it. Magda saw a faint blue flare, a shrill faroff shrieking like a hawk, and Acquilara stood in the doorway before them.
“Are you leaving us? I’m afraid I can’t relinquish your company so soon.” She raised her hand, and Magda realized there were women warriors all around the entrance chamber. They struck the torches from Cholayna’s hand, knocked Vanessa to the ground, took her knife, then dragged them along with Magda and Rafaella back into the chamber of fires, where all four of them were held securely.
The room filled up with women, some of them, Magda was sure, hastily roused sleepers from the chamber above.
“I am too lenient,” Acquilara said. “I can tolerate no traitors. Terranan—”
Lexie came forward through the crowd.
“I underestimated her strength and intelligence,” Acquilara said, indicating Magda. “Once she is broken, we can find a use for her. But I must make an example of what happens to those who mock my clemency. This one betrayed us.”
She went to Rafaella and took the knife from her belt; handed it to Lexie.
“Prove yourself loyal to me. Kill her.”
Cholayna cried out sharply. “Lexie! No!”
With brutal deliberation Acquilara backhanded Cholayna across the mouth. “It should be you, freak,” she said. “Terranan, I wait.”
Lexie barely glanced at the knife and dropped it.
“To hell with your tests of loyalty. If you need them, to hell with you.” She let the knife lie where it had fallen.
Magda thought Acquilara would strike Alexis down where she stood; she had defied her, risked letting the sorceress lose face before her women. Acquilara stood frozen for a moment, then evidently decided to salvage what she could from the incident.
“Why, Terranan?”
“She knows the mountain roads. She is competent. She will be needed to escort them back to Thendara when the time comes; by that time she will know better than to defy or disobey. Killing her would be waste. I abhor waste.” Lexie spoke coldly, without the slightest emotion.
Now is she telling the exact truth, or is it some latent loyalty in Lexie? After all, they traveled over the mountains together, and they must have some kindness and respect for one another after sharing an experience like that. Magda ached for the touch of laran which would make it possible to know.
Soon they found themselves back in the cavern from which they had come. Rafaella was dragged along with them, and unceremoniously dumped there. Their hands were tied, and Acquilara ordered her women to go around and take their boots off, one by one.
Cholayna protested. “You have not even told us why we are your prisoners. And without our boots we will surely freeze.”
“Not if you stay in these caverns, where the temperature all year round is sufficient to keep water from freezing,” Acquilara said. “Only if you try to leave them will you suffer the slightest harm. I should really take all your outer garments as well.”
But she did not carry out that threat; she even left the blankets. She also posted a pair of guards, armed with knives and daggers, at the door of the chamber. She would not, Magda thought, underestimate them again.
Cholayna wrapped her blanket around herself, clumsily, using her long, prehensile toes, and told the others to do the same. “We need to keep warm, stay as strong as we can.”
“Jaelle—they didn’t kill her, did they?” Rafaella asked, shrugging into her blanket as best she could with her hands tied.
“As far as I know she got clean away. And I hope she stays so.”
“By the paps of Evanda, so do I, I swear it! I would not have harm come to her for all the metal in Zandru’s forges. I truly believed we would find—” she broke off. “I did not know the terranan woman was quite so bloodthirsty. For a moment I thought Lexa’ really would kill me.”
“I had hoped not,” Cholayna said gravely. “I cannot believe that of her.”
Rafaella said, “I don’t suppose this is what Lexa’ really meant by a city of wisdom. Still, if we could get at the ancient artifacts under the mountains, I dare say your Terrans would call it a fortune.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing them,” Cholayna said, “but I’d prefer to get out of here with a whole skin. I don’t know if we can manage another escape attempt. Still, if any kind of chance comes we should be ready.” She wriggled around, lying close to Magda. “See if you can manage to get my hands loose, Magda. Vanessa, see what you can do for Rafi’s.”
“The guards—” Magda gave an uneasy glance over her shoulder.
“Why do you think I suggested we all do a lot of moving around getting ourselves wrapped up in blankets and so forth? The guards won’t pay any attention if we move discreetly and behave as if we were still tied up.”
Magda started slowly easing the knots loose. They had been well tied, and it took a long time, but she had nothing else to do anyhow. At last she slipped free the last cord, then thrust out her own wrists, to let Cholayna fumble with her bonds.
“It must be daylight
outside,” said Vanessa, lying full length and shamming sleep while Rafaella picked at a difficult knot.
Daylight. If she had had sense, or laran, not to go up those stairs, to take the doorway, they could by now have been miles away.
Rafaella asked, “This Acquilara. Do you think she is a powerful sorceress?”
“She’s not much of a telepath. I don’t know what else she has or doesn’t have, and right now I’m in no position to judge,” Magda said.
“Laran!” Rafaella’s voice was scornful, but suddenly Magda was aware of the overpowering reason behind Rafaella’s jealousy. It took no psychic powers to read; since Jaelle’s childhood, Rafi had known Jaelle to be a daughter born into the powerful caste of Comyn, who ruled all the Domains, all Darkover, with their powers. Nevertheless, Jaelle had chosen the Guild-house over her Comyn heritage, blotting out the great distance that would otherwise lie between Rafaella and Jaelle. They had been friends, partners; even, for a brief time in their girlhood, lovers.
And then Magda, who was not even Darkovan and should have had no more laran than Rafaella herself, had come between them, and it had been Magda, the alien, who had lured Jaelle back to her laran and to her heritage.
I should have had imagination enough to see this before.
“Laran or no,” Cholayna said, “I know one thing about this Acquilara: she is a psychopath. Any little thing can touch her off, and then she can be dangerous.”
“You think she’s not dangerous now? Would a sane woman have tried that business of trying to make Lexie kill Rafaella?” Vanessa asked.
“A sane woman might well have tried it. But a sane woman would not have been diverted so easily from it,” Cholayna warned. “I am more afraid of her than of anything so far on this trip.”
The day, or night, dragged on, and they had no way of marking it. What did it matter? Magda wondered. It was unlikely that they would get out of this one. Either Acquilara would kill them in a fit of psychotic frenzy, or they would escape, to be followed by a swift death from exposure, or a slow one from starvation. She only regretted that her laran should die before she did. She would have liked to be able to reach Callista, Andrew, and especially her child. The Forbidden Tower would mourn her, never knowing how she had died. Perhaps it was as well they should not know.
She wondered if it was an ethical question peculiar to women. There were some, even in the Guild-house, who would have said that she should not, with family responsibilities and a child to raise, have undertaken such a dangerous mission. Terran HQ, at least in Intelligence, usually reserved such missions for unmarried men with no families.
But Intelligence was a special volunteer service. In Mapping and Exploring, in Survey, for instance, a man’s marital status did not affect what he was expected or allowed to do. Was it so much worse to raise motherless children than fatherless ones? She longed for Shaya and wondered if she would ever see her again. If Jaelle had gotten clean away, Jaelle would look after her daughter. If Jaelle had been killed too—well, at least the children were safe.
“I don’t suppose they’ll bother to send in anything to eat,” said Vanessa, “but I still have a pocketful of the stuff we got out of those sacks. Here… ” She passed it from hand to hand, out of sight of the guards. “We might as well eat and keep up our strength.”
Magda was chewing prosaically on a raisin when it happened, a flare like a light exploding in her brain and Callista’s voice:
… as an Alton one of my talents is speech to the head-blind…
It was as if she were speaking in the next room, but perfectly clear. Then it was gone, and nothing would bring it back; Magda reached out desperately, trying to touch Jaelle, Camilla, to reach for the Overworld and the Forbidden Tower…
But her mind was still filled with the insidious inhibiting power of raivannin and she had no idea how that voice had gotten through to her.
If I could only pray. But I don’t believe in prayer. She didn’t, she thought, even believe in the Goddess Avarra, even though she had seen the thought-form of the Sisterhood. She tried to summon that image, the brooding goddess with wings, the robed figures, to fill her mind with the sound of calling crows, but she was all too aware that it was only an image, mind and memory, nothing like the sureness of contact with her laran.
She slumped in her blanket, munching wretchedly on dried fruit, which, like everything else in these caverns, smelled of the dung-fires they burned here.
She looked up, and Camilla stood before her.
But not the real Camilla. She could see the wall through her body, and her eyes blazed with supernatural fires. Her hair, in the real world faded and sandy, seemed alive with the brightest of copper highlights. Not Camilla. Her image in the Overworld. Yet Magda’s head was still filled with the sick fuzzy strangeness of raivannin. So she was not seeing Camilla with her laran. Somehow Camilla had come to her. Then she saw, standing next to Camilla—but her feet were not quite touching the floor of the cave, and she was surrounded by a curious dark aureole—the slight, modest young woman who had come to the monastery to speak with them.
She heard the words with her ears. They were not in her head.
“Try not to hate them,” Kyntha said, matter-of-factly, “this is not a spiritual recommendation, but a very practical one. Your hate gives them entry to your mind. Tell the others.”
Then she was gone and Camilla was standing before her again.
Bredhiya, she said, and vanished.
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTY
« ^ »
It had happened. She could not use her laran to cry out to Camilla; drugged with raivannin she was head-blind, insensitive, unreachable. Jaelle, alone, without helpers from the Tower, was all but powerless. And so Camilla had made the breakthrough, done the thing that she had been avoiding all her life.
Magda felt a confusion beyond words. On one level she was filled with pride for Camilla, that she had overcome her dread and distaste for this long denied potential. On another she was almost immeasurably humbled that Camilla would do this for her sake, after so many years of denial, of rejection. On yet another, she felt pain that was almost despair. Camilla would never have come to this, except for me. It would have been better to die than to force this on her.
She was so filled with mixed joy and sorrow for her friend, that for a moment she did not realize what it meant. Camilla had found her, by laran. One way or another this meant rescue was on the way, and they must be ready.
She crawled toward Cholayna and whispered, “They’ve found us. Did you see Camilla?”
“Did I—what?”
“I saw her. She appeared to me. No, Cholayna, I wasn’t hallucinating. I saw Kyntha, too. It means that since I could not search for her, she came looking for me, and it means an attempt at rescue. We must be ready.”
Vanessa listened with a skeptically raised eyebrow.
“Talk about psychological defense mechanisms! I suspect you’re out of your mind temporarily, Lorne, and no wonder—giving you all kinds of strange drugs, without the slightest reason—”
“You haven’t been on this planet as long as I have,” Cholayna said, overhearing this. “It happens and it’s no delusion, Vanessa. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t expect to. But I don’t doubt Lorne did and we should be ready.”
“They won’t get us away without a commotion of some sort,” Vanessa said. “Not without our boots.”
Rafaella, who had been dozing, sat up, and the good news was relayed to her in a whisper.
“And Jaelle? What of Jaelle?” she asked. “Any word?”
Magda said dryly, “Not going to try persuading her this time that Acquilara’s gang would be more useful in the long run? Changed your mind about what kind of solid citizens they are?”
Rafaella’s face was white.
“Damn you, Margali, is it any wonder I didn’t want you in this? You always have to twist the knife, don’t you? And you of course, you never make mistakes, you’re always so rig
ht, so perfectly absolutely smug-faced right! All these people who are so damn awed by you because you never do anything wrong—some day Jaelle’s going to realize what you’re doing to her, what you do to everybody you say you care about, and break your neck, and I hope I’m there to see it and cheer!”
She turned her back on Magda and buried her head in her blanket. Her body shook, and Magda realized she was crying.
For a moment Magda was almost too shocked to draw breath. Rafaella and I have quarreled before, but I always thought she was still my friend. Is that what I am like? Is that how people see me?
Vanessa had heard; more, she had seen Magda’s face. She leaned close to Magda. “Never mind,” she said in a voice that could not be heard a foot away, “she always calms down sooner or later. Remember her own judgment of people’s just turned out not to be so great, after all. She gambled on Anders and lost.”
It’s as if this whole thing had been my fault, my fault Lexie Anders did what she did, my fault Rafaella followed her.
She remembered what Kyntha had said. Try not to hate. Her mind was still clouded, but she knew that she did not hate Rafaella. I’m angry with her. That’s different.
Lexie? That was more difficult. However she tried, she could not exonerate Lexie from the blame for this whole miserable expedition.
“What is it?” Cholayna whispered, and Magda remembered that Kyntha had said, Tell the others.
“I’m trying hard not to hate Lexie.” She repeated what Kyntha had said. Her feelings about Rafaella were her own affair, and she could not share them with Cholayna, but Lexie was another matter.
“You can leave the hating to me,” Vanessa said implacably. “She’s come so close to getting us all killed—”
“But she didn’t kill Rafaella,” Cholayna argued. “Not even with a knife in her hand, and an admiring audience standing around watching.”
Rafaella stuck her head out from under her blanket. “I knew she wouldn’t. I know Lexa’ pretty well by now.” Magda was astonished at herself, realizing that even in this adversity she still thought like a linguist, noting that Rafaella said Lexa’, using the Kilghard Hills dialect, rather than the Lexie that the rest of them, the Terrans, used.