“So she persuaded you—and you came for me! But where did Kyntha come from?”
“I do not know. Jaelle—” Camilla swallowed and resolutely went on—“Jaelle said to me, I am a catalyst telepath, I have little skill myself, but I am told I can awaken it in others. She touched me, and it was as if—as if a veil fell from me. I saw you, and I knew… and I came to you.”
“She saved us all.” But not herself. Magda knew she would never cease to grieve; nor would Camilla. She had only begun to feel the pain that would come back to haunt her at odd hours for the rest of her life, but for now she must put it aside. When she thought of Jaelle now she saw the Jaelle she would always remember, her wild hair streaming behind her, in the wind of the heights, turning to say, “ I don’t want to go back.… ”
She shared the picture with Camilla, saying softly, “She told me that. She didn’t want to go back. I think she knew, I think she saw her life as a finished thing… She had done all she wanted to do.”
“But I would so gladly have died instead—” Camilla said, choking.
Rafaella’s hand fell on her shoulder. “So would I, Camilla. The Goddess knows—if there is a Goddess—” She had been crying, too; she bent and hugged Camilla hard.
Kyntha was standing beside them. Her voice was compassionate, but matter-of-fact as always.
“Food has been prepared for you. And your companions’ wounds have been cared for.” She bent to examine Camilla’s forehead.
“If you wish, I can stitch it for you.”
“No. Not necessary,” Camilla said.. Wearily she rose and followed Kyntha to the end of the room near the fireplace. Magda hung back a little, looking curiously at Kyntha. She said, “You do not speak the mountain dialect of these women. Where did you come from?”
Kyntha looked a little chagrined. “I can speak it when I must, and here I try to remember to do so, but I am—young and imperfect as yet. I grew up on the plains of Valeron, and served five years in the Tower at Neskaya before I found a more meaningful service, Terran.”
“You know?”
“I am not blind; Ferrika is known to me, and Marisela was my sworn sister in service to Avarra. There was a time when I too thought that I would cut my hair and swear the vows of a Renunciate. Do you think we come out of mysterious cracks from the underworld? Come and have some soup.”
One of the women tending the kettle put a mug into her hand. She thought, how can I eat, with Jaelle…
But she forced herself to drink the soup, which was hearty and thick with beans and something like barley. It seemed to melt, a little, the icy lump at her heart.
One of the beshawled attendants she had seen in her previous stay in this place was kneeling by Vanessa, rebandaging her injured leg. Rafaella seemed uninjured, though Magda had seen her in some close-quarters fighting, and her heavy cloak was cut and slashed and badly torn. Cholayna had been propped up on pillows; Magda knelt beside her.
Cholayna stretched out her hand toward Magda.
“I’m all right. But oh, I’m sorry about Jaelle, I loved her too, you know that—”
Magda’s eyes filled. “I know. We all did. Let me get you some soup.” It was all she could do. She looked at Lexie, lying on a pallet made of coats and spare blankets, still unconscious.
“Is she—”
“I don’t know. They’ve done what they could for her, they say.” Cholayna’s voice was tight. “Did you see? They—those women—I was down. They were kicking me to death. Lexie saved me. That was when they stabbed her.”
“I saw.” So Rafaella had been right about Lexie. Magda knelt and looked at the younger woman, pale, like a sick child, her feathery fair hair lying on her childish neck. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing in long shuddering gasps.
Rafaella came and stood behind her. She whispered, almost inaudibly, and it was like a prayer, “Don’t die. Don’t die, Lexa, there’s been too much dying.” She raised her eyes to Magda and said defiantly, “You never knew her. She was a—a good friend, a good trail-mate. She fought like a mountain-cat to get us over Ravensmark after the landslide. I—I never thought I’d ask this of you, but you’re—you’re a leronis. Can you heal her?”
Magda knelt beside Alexis Anders. There had been too much death. She reached out to Lexie’s mind, trying to reach the child she had sensed there for a moment, thrusting gently for contact—
Lexie’s eyes opened; she turned over a little, her breath rasping in her throat. At the back of her mind Magda took notice: lungs pierced. I doubt if Damon and Callista with Lady Hilary to help them could heal this. Yet she knew she must try.
Lexie’s eyes held awareness for a moment. She whispered, “Hellfire! You again, Lorne?” and her eyes closed, deliberately. She turned her head away.
“I can’t reach her,” Magda whispered, knowing it was the truth. “I am no magician, Rafaella. This is far beyond my powers.”
For an instant Rafaella’s eyes met her own, acknowledging the truth in what Magda said. Then, still defiant, she turned her back and moved past her. Magda had not seen; the old nameless priestess sat there in her bundle of shawls, her toothless, creased face regarding them all silently. Rafaella knelt before the ancient shamaness and said, “I beg you. You can heal her. Help her, please. Please. Don’t let her die.”
“Na’, it canna’ be done,” said the old woman. Her voice was gentle, but detached.
“You can’t just let her die… ” Rafaella cried.
“Does thee not believe in death, little sister? It comes to all; her time comes sooner than ours, no more than that.” The old woman patted the seat beside her, almost, Magda thought, as if encouraging a puppy to curl up at her side. Rafaella numbly sunk down in the indicated place.
“Hear ’ee, that one dying chose her death. Chose a good death, saving her friend from dying before her time—”
Cholayna turned as if galvanized. She cried out,
“How can you say that? She was so young, how can she be dying before her time when I, I am old and still alive, and you helped me—”
“This one told thee before, thee is ignorant,” said the old priestess. “That one dying there, she chose her death when even for a moment she allied herself wi’ the evil.”
“But she turned back! She saved me,” Cholayna cried, and burst into a fit of coughing, half strangling with it, tears running down her face. “How can you say she was evil?”
“Was not. Better to die turning away from evil, than die with it,” said the old woman. “Rest thee, daughter, thy sickness needs not these tears and cries. Her time was on her; thine will come, and mine, but not today or tomorrow.”
“It’s not right!” Rafaella cried out in despair. “Jaelle died saving us all; Lexie tried to save Cholayna. And they died, and the rest of us lived—any of us deserved death more than Jaelle: they deserved to live—”
The old priestess said very softly, “Oh, I see. Thee thinks death a punishment for wrong-doin’ an’ life the reward for good, like a cake to a good child or a whip to a naughty one. Thee is a child, little one, an’ thee canna’ hear wisdom. Rest thee all, little sisters. There is much to say, but thee canna’ hear in thy grief.”
She rose creakily from her seat; the old blind woman, Rakhaila, came to her and offered an arm, and she tottered slowly from the room.
Kyntha remained a moment, staring at them with resentment. Then she said, “You have grieved her beyond words. You have brought blood here, and the deaths of violence.” She stared with distaste at Lexie. “Rest and recover your strength, as she has bidden you. Tomorrow there are decisions which must be made.”
Lexie died just before sunset. She died in Cholayna’s arms, without recovering consciousness. As if they had known, four of the old woman’s attendants came in silently and took the body away.
“What will you do with her?” asked Vanessa apprehensively.
“Gi’ her to the holy birds of Avarra,” said one of the women, and Magda, remembering the high vulture-headdresses of the wo
men warriors of illusion, knew that their Sisterhood paid reverence to the kyorenbi, whose task it was to deal with matter which had outlived its usefulness. She explained this quietly to Vanessa and Cholayna, and Cholayna bowed her head.
“It does not matter to her now. But I wish she had not come so far to die. Poor child, poor child,” she murmured.
Vanessa rose and put on her heavy coat. “I’ll go and watch. I can do that much for Personnel. No, you stay here, Cholayna. if you go out in this cold you’ll have penumonia again and hold us up another ten days. It’s my job, not yours.”
They seemed to know what she intended, and waited for her.
Rafaella rose and said roughly, “My coat’s torn to pieces. Lend me yours. Margali, you’re about my size. I’ll go, too. We were comrades; if she’d lived, we would have been—friends.”
Magda nodded, with tears in her eyes.
“No, Camilla, you stay here, she was nothing to you. We loved her.”
Camilla and Magda came by instinct to kneel by Cholayna’s bed, holding her hands as Alexis Anders’ body was borne away by the priestesses. After a long time Rafaella and Vanessa came back, silent and subdued, and had nothing further to say that night. But Magda heard Rafaella crying far into the night, and after a long time Vanessa got up and went to her, lay down beside her, and Magda heard them whispering to one another till she fell asleep.
Magda woke before the others, and lay listening to the soft hiss of the snow outside the building. Jaelle was gone; their search was ended. Or was it? They had found Lexie and Rafaella; Lexie was dead. Jaelle, who had come to seek a legendary city, had preceded her into death. Marisela, who knew the city and the Sisterhood, was dead too. Were they nowhere, lonesome spirits on the wind, or were they together, seeking something tangible? Magda wished she knew. She could not even guess.
The Sisterhood. They know. Marisela knew. If Jaelle had lived, Magda now knew, they would have sought that knowledge together; perhaps with Camilla, whose quest was to demand of the Goddess, if there was in truth a Goddess, the reasons for her life and her suffering. Now she had another grievance against the Goddess who had taken Jaelle from her. If she could find or fight her way in, Magda knew Camilla would go on.
And Magda should go with her. It was her destiny. But as she listened to Cholayna’s hoarse breathing, Magda knew she was not free to follow. Cholayna might already have penumonia again, and would not be fit to travel for many days. She could not follow them to the city; she would not be admitted. A search for wisdom was not her destiny; she would return to the Terran HQ, as Vanessa must. And she, Magda, must take them back.
She had a swift vision of Jaelle—head bent against the wind, face against the storm, leading—leading the way on some madcap adventure—
Now Jaelle had gone before her again, where she could not follow. She must persuade Camilla to go on; but Magda must go back with her Terran compatriots.
Day dawned fully, and after they had cooked and eaten some breakfast, the old woman came back, ceremoniously seating herself on the stone dais, accompanied by the blind woman Rakhaila and by Kyntha.
“Did ye all sleep well? Medicines ’ull be given thee, sister,” she added to Cholayna, then turned to Kyntha.
“Thee shall speak, what must be said.”
Kyntha faced them. There was an odd ceremoniousness in her voice. She spoke the mountain dialect this time, though she spoke it slowly.
“Thy sister Marisela should ha’ said this to ye all. Her duty, which I do with grief. Thee has come to seek the Sisterhood, and Marisela was leading thee to a place where thee might be questioned as to thy will. We ha’ no heart to make thee travel again that path, so I ask thee here. What does thee seek?” She turned toward Camilla.
Camilla said, harshly, “Thee knows I seek those who serve the Goddess, that I may ask them—or her—what her purpose is for me.”
Kyntha said gently, “She answers not such questions, sister. It will be thy own task to gain wisdom to hear her voice.”
“Then where do I start looking for this wisdom? In your city? Take me there.”
Blind Rakhaila erupted with a guffaw.
“Jes’ like that, thee says? Haw!”
“Thee has lived a life of much suffering and travail, seeking wisdom,” Kyntha said. “Yet look on Rakhaila here. She is older still; she has endured as much as thee; yet she has not been admitted there. She is content to dwell at the outer gates as servant to the beasts who carry the servants of the Sisterhood.”
“Has she asked it?” Camilla said. “There are different paths to the Sisterhood; furthermore, I think you have the duty to do so, because I have demanded it. Do your duty, my sister, that I may do mine.”
The old shamaness beckoned to Camilla. She patted the seat beside her, as she had done with Rafaella the day before.
“To one who asks, all is answered,” she said. “I bid thee welcome, granddaughter of my soul.”
Magda felt a sharp pain at her heart. Jaelle had gone before her, with Marisela. Now Camilla had outstripped her and was to be taken from her.
Kyntha said to Rafaella, and her voice was not harsh, but faintly sarcastic, “Now you know the city is no place of riches and jewels, do you still wish to go there?”
Rafaella shook her head. She said, “I accepted a lawful commission. It is ended badly; my companion is dead. But I do not regret the search. I have no desire to be a leronis. I leave that to others.”
“Go, then, in peace,” Kyntha said. “I have no authority over you.” She turned to Vanessa. “And you?”
Vanessa said, “With all due respect, I think it’s all moonshine. Four moons’ worth of moonshine. Thanks, but no thanks.”
Kyntha smiled. “So be it. I respect you for your loyalty in following others where you had no interest in the quest—”
“You’re giving me too much credit,” Vanessa said. “I came because there were mountains to climb.”
“Then, I say to you, you have had your reward and you are welcome to it,” Kyntha said. Then she bowed to Cholayna.
“Sister from a far world, you have all your life sought wisdom beneath every strange sky. You hold life in reverence and you seek truth. The Sisterhood has read your heart from afar. If it is your will to enter, you too may come, and seek wisdom among us.”
For the first and last time, Magda felt the touch of the Terran woman’s thoughts; she could not read them as words, but she touched the expanded sense of their import, the knowledge that in her own way Cholayna had sought this all her life.
Then Cholayna sighed, with infinite regret.
“My duty lies elsewhere,” she said. “I think you know that. I cannot follow my wishes in this matter. I have made another choice in this life, and I will not turn away from it.”
Again Kyntha bowed, and turned at last to Magda. “And you? What is your will?”
Magda knew her own sigh was an echo of Cholayna’s. She said, “I would like to come to you. I wish—but I too have duties, responsibilities—I am sorry. I wish—”
But she knew she must return with Cholayna and Vanessa, to the world on the far side of those mountains. If this wisdom was meant for her, then some day she would have another chance, and be free to take it. If not, it was not worth having. She must return to her child, to Jaelle’s child as well…
Kyntha took a single step toward her. She put her hand under Magda’s chin and lifted it. She said, “This is the place of truth! Speak!” It was like a great gong. “The tides of thy life are moving. What is thy truest will?”
Magda heard what Andrew had said to her, when she came to the Forbidden Tower. There isn’t one of us here who hasn’t had to tear their lives up like a piece of scrap paper and start over. Some of us have had to do it two or three times. Far off it seemed that she could hear the calling of crows.
Would she ever return? She dismissed that. If she should never return, then that was her destiny. She had abandoned the Guild-house when the time came for that, and return
ed to build a Bridge Society between her two worlds. Jaelle had ruthlessly run ahead, knowing she had worn out the challenges of the past, looking ahead. Magda would have courage to follow.
“I would like to follow Camilla to the City. But I have a duty to my companions—”
A brief silence in the room. Then Rafaella said roughly, “Isn’t that just like you, Margali? You think I’m not fit to take Cholayna and Vanessa back to Thendara? You stay here and do what you damn please. I’m the mountain guide. Who needs you?”
Magda blinked. Rough as the words were, what she heard in them was pure love; what Rafaella had said was, sister.
“Hell, yes, Lorne. That’s settled. When Cholayna’s able to travel, you go.” Vanessa went and stood beside Rafaella. “We decided that last night when you were asleep.”
Almost disbelieving, Magda looked round. The ancient sorceress beckoned to her. She went and numbly sat on the dais beside her, feeling Camilla’s cold hands in hers.
The end of a quest? Or a beginning? Did all quests end like this, a final step upward to the pinnacle of a mighty mountain, which gave way to reveal a new and unknown horizon?
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[25 August, 2003—v1 html proofed and formatted by Agent99 for the 3S group]
Marion Zimmer Bradley, City of Sorcery
(Series: Darkover # 19)
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