Mirror 04 The Way Between the Worlds (30 page)

Llian.
'I thought of you, and the courage you showed when you were battered and ill
from the torments of Mendark and Rulke, when you knew that the whole world was
against you, even your lover! Llian, I'm so sorry! But you never gave in and
you never thought of yourself. You challenged Rulke to a telling to save me. I
remembered how afraid you were when we parted that day, how you trembled when
I embraced you. And then you just went out and did what was needed, and you
did it so well.
'So how could I be less steadfast? I had to do what Rulke wanted. Anything
less would have left you as you were before. I've hardly slept since, for
worrying what you would think of me.'
'You're the best friend any man ever had - that's what I think of you.'
'But Rulke failed and so I failed too. I'm afraid, Llian. One day he'll come
for me. He told me so. As soon as he's ready it will all begin, and what will
the consequences be? I feel so guilty. Everything I do sets off a train of
disaster.'
'I have those problems too,' he said.
'And what do you do about them?'
'The best I can do, and worry afterwards.'
'I've learned a lot about myself over the past few months,' he said some time
later. 'I brought all my troubles upon myself.'
'What nonsense!' said Karan.
'I did! I was so set on knowing the tale that I didn't care what I did. But
instead of just following the story I kept interfering to see what would
happen next. I pursued the Histories recklessly, regardless of any other
loyalties. I was as greedy as Mendark; as Tensor; as anyone!'
'Well - ' she said. 'What else have you been doing over the past few weeks,
Llian? How did you fill your days, apart from pining for me?'
'That didn't leave much time.' He laughed, at himself. "The same asbefore,
Karan. Working on my tale. Or Mendark's, as he now likes to call it.'
'What?' Karan spat her drink into the fire. 'After what he did to you?'
'I owe him for my schooling and he requires the debt repaid. The obligation is
real; I can't get out of it.'
Karan did her best to be interested. 'And how goes the tale?'
'Miserably!' he said. 'It's not right. I feel that I'm demeaning my
profession. Not even a great teller such as I,' he gave his wonderful smile
then, that lit up his whole face and warmed her too, 'can make it into a tale
without truth becoming the casualty.'
He did not tell her his true plan. There were spies everywhere, and Mendark
might even have listening devices here, like the ear Nadiril had used a few
months ago.
'Then give it up. What can he do to you?'
'He can destroy me. He is very powerful still. A word from Mendark can ensure
that no one will ever hire me as a chronicler. But that's not what's stopping
me . . .' his voice trailed off. He stared into the fire. She took his hand.
'What, Llian? Are you afraid of something?'
'No. The Histories behind the tale, what really happened at the time of the
Proscribed Experiments - it's tantalising. I feel as if I'm on the verge of
uncovering something really interesting.'
'What?'
T don't know!' he cried, frustrated. 'That's why I can't give it up.'
A week had gone by since Karan's return. She was chafing to get back to
Gothryme.
'They won't let you go,' said Llian. 'The guards on the gates will be watching
for you.'
'I've got to! I can't bear to be away from home any longer. Are you coming?'
'Let's go down and see.'
They packed and went to an obscure western gate of Thurkad. Karan had
concealed her hair and pulled her hood well down over her face. The solitary
guard, a kindly-looking old woman with not a hair left on her head and ears as

saggy as a bloodhound's, did not even ask for her papers.
'Go back, Karan of Bannador. It is not worth my old head to let you through.'
Karan turned away, angry and embarrassed. 'Let's go down to the waterfront.
We'll buy passage out by ship.'
'With what? I have two coppers. How much have you got?'
'A silver tar only,' she said, examining the well-known contents of her
pockets.
'It's no use, Karan. If we go home they'll just come and take you back. And
how can we live anywhere else with no money?'
'Why won't they let me live my life?' she wept.
That afternoon Karan decided that there was only one thing to do - beard the
Magister in his office. To her surprise she was admitted instantly. He looked
up at her from behind his vast ebony table.
'What do you require of me?' she asked. 'Why can't I go home?'
Mendark's mouth was so thin and hard and blue and cold that Karan grew afraid.
'Because you collaborated with Rulke, and there has not yet been an
accounting. When Yggur and
Shand return, you may be put to trial. Or ... maybe your debt can be paid with
a suitable service, triune!'
He smiled with his horrible lips but Karan felt cold inside. Everyone wanted
to use her, just like it had been before. It was the curse of the triune. She
could never escape from her heritage.
The Paradox of the Mirror
Llian had spent the whole week in a fruitless search for records made at the
time Rulke was captured. However he could find none except those Mendark had
already given him, written by the Magister himself. It was strange, since the
Council kept the Histories most diligently.
Llian knew that Yggur had no memory of the incident, but surely the other
members of the Council would have kept records, in this land obsessed with the
Histories. He went through the lists again. The other Council members from
that time had died long ago. In fact, he discovered, though young, all but
Tensor had died within a year of the Experiments. Curious!
He spoke to Mendark's chief archivist but found her unhelpful, and previous
interrogation of Mendark did not encourage him to do it again. Yggur had still
not returned. There was only one other person who might know. Llian headed
down the road to Nadiril's villa, a large square building set in its own
grounds. It had a colonnaded front and a wide hall tiled in red marble.
Nadiril had not perfectly recovered from his chest complaint. The old
librarian was sitting up in bed, his hands spread limply on the scarlet quilt.
He looked asleep but his rheumy eyes opened at once.
'How are you, sir?' asked Llian respectfully.
'Better,' he wheezed. 'I may get up today. It's good of you to take the time,
Llian. I'm a dull old man these days.'
Llian murmured a politeness.
'But you didn't come here because you were worried about my health. You want
something from me. What is it?'
Llian told him.
'Well, of course they would have written down what happened!' said Nadiril.
'Every member of the Council kept the Histories, as we still do.'
'There's only one record - Mendark's! No others are even listed in the
catalogues.'
'Hmn!' Nadiril developed a spark in his eye. 'A challenge! I'm sure there's a
simple explanation, but you don't want to ask Mendark, eh? Pull that cord for
me and we'll breakfast together, then I'll see how I feel.'
Llian had already eaten a frugal breakfast but he had the most pleasant
memories of Nadiril's hospitality and was not disappointed. Afterwards they
took a sedan chair up the hill to the citadel and were waved straight through
the gates by the guards.
'Give me your arm,' Nadiril said as they dismounted at a side door. He creaked
his way down to the archives.

The archivist could refuse him nothing, since Nadiril was a member of the
Council. He soon found, however, that Llian was correct - there were no other
Council documents relating to the time of the Proscribed Experiments.
'You once said that dangerous documents were kept in a special place,' said
Llian.
Nadiril gave him a piercing glance. 'So they are - the vault Yggur caught you
in some time ago - but not even those records would describe the Experiments.
Nonetheless, I'll check. You cannot come with me,' he said as Llian rose. 'Go
through the administrative files from that time. There may be shipping
records, transmittal notes or bills of lading specifying documents that were
sent here. Check everything.'
Llian did not see Nadiril again that day, but working into the evening he did
find something of interest. He told Nadiril about it the next morning, over
breakfast. The librarian was poorly, confined to bed, while Lilis hovered
about looking anxious and giving Llian reproachful glares.
'Have a look at this. It had fallen down the back of an old file of shipping
documents,' Llian said. He passed the scrap of paper across. 'It's a receipt
from a woman named Uivan, for documents provided to Mendark after the death of
her sister Nivan.'
'Nivan was one of the seven Council members at the time,' Nadiril said. He
read the paper. 'It lists the documents supplied. One of them is entitled My
Histories of the Experiment and the Taking of Rulke. And the receipt is
cross-signed here - the documents were received safe and complete at the
citadel.'
'But that's it!' said Llian, very frustrated. 'There's no mention of them
anywhere!'
'Nor in the secret archives,' said Nadiril. 'Unusual! But things can get lost
in all sorts of ways in a thousand years. I'm too tired, Llian. You'd better
come back tomorrow.'
Nadiril closed his eyes and Lilis shooed Llian out. At the door Llian took her
arm. 'How are Tallia and Jevi getting on?'
'Not very well. When Tallia came back everything seemed wonderful. Jevi was so
happy to see her, then it all went wrong.
'What happened?'
'I don't know what she said to him, but he went all cold and silent. I asked
him what the matter was. He wouldn't tell me. I tried to tell him that Tallia
loved him but he became angry. It was terrible, Llian. Jevi has never been
angry with me in my whole life. Even when I was little, and naughty, he was
always patient and kind. Now he's gone away with Pender. I don't know what to
do. Poor Tallia, she looks awful.'

'I don't know either,' said Llian. 'Better leave it to them.'
The next day Karan and Llian were strolling arm-in-arm past the citadel to a
cheap breakfast place when they caught sight of Yggur's head above the crowd.
'I wonder where he's been?' said Llian.
'Who cares?' Karan dragged at his hand. 'Come on, I'm hungry.'
'Hang on, there may be news.' He stood his ground and the crowd parted. 'Hey,
there's Shand too. Who's the woman with him?'
'It's Maigraith!' said Karan, feeling old conflicts rise to the surface.
Maigraith had dragged her into this mess in the first place. But at the same
time they had travelled together, shared perils together, been linked
together. Karan had seen the torment in Maigraith's innermost soul. And
Maigraith had led an army into Bannador, liberating Karan's country in her
name. After that, Karan could forgive her anything.
'Maigraith,' she shouted. 'Shand!'
The three turned at her cries. 'Karan!' cried Maigraith and Shand at the same
time. 'How did you get here?'
Karan explained. 'Where have you been?'
Maigraith answered. 'After the war in Bannador, Faelamor compelled me to go
with her to Elludore Forest. I've been there since autumn, except for two

trips to Havissard through a gate, and one or two other excursions.'
'Havissard!' cried Llian. 'You must tell me everything about it', for my
tale.'
'This is Llian, a teller,' said Karan, being deliberately casual.
Maigraith inspected him minutely. 'I've seen you before. It was in Narne,
about a year ago. I'm glad you found Karan.' She shook Llian's hand. 'Karan,
you cannot imagine what has happened - I have found my life. Shand is my
grandfather!' She looked as happy as a child.
'Llian told me that,' said Karan. 'Now tell me - '
'I see you've a lot to catch up on,' said Yggur, shepherding them out of the
middle of the street to let an overloaded wagon go by. 'Why don't you take
breakfast together at my expense?'
He tossed a gold coin at Karan, who would have flung it straight back again
but Llian caught it first.
'You won't join us?' Shand said to Yggur.
'This is your party. I've neglected my responsibilities too long already.
We'll hold council tomorrow at nine. Don't be late!' He tipped his hat to them
and strode off up the hill, with the guards who had followed him from the gate
gathered round.
'I have hurt him,' said Maigraith, staring after his back.
Next morning they met at Yggur's fortress, in a small room on the ground
floor. As Mendark's apartment was of baroque extravagance, so Yggur's rooms
were positively spartan. The chamber had an uncovered floor of wide boards,
bare walls painted an ugly mud-brown and a long table with hard wooden chairs.
The fireplace was set but not lit. The room was saturated with cold and damp.
The meeting consisted of Yggur, Mendark and Tallia, Nadiril in a wheeled
chair, and Shand. The Aachim were still over the sea.
Karan and Llian came in late, sharing a joke. Yggur, already on his feet,
scowled at them. 'I have called this meeting,' he began, 'to review what has
happened since Carcharon and to see if we can find any new ways to attack our
enemies. I propose that we each tell our own tale -briefly, mind! - and then
see what we can come up with.'
'Seize Faelamor's gold and make the golden flute anew,' said Mendark curtly.
'I like that idea even less than the last time you suggested it,' Yggur
replied.
'I agree with Mendark,' said Shand, a wistful look in his eye.
There was a stir when Maigraith rose, last of all. Yggur was staring at her, a
lost futile yearning, for Maigraith did not once look at him. She gazed at
Shand, at Karan, but mostly out of the window at the roofs of the city. Yggur
burns for her, Llian realised, and she won't have him.
'We've all been wrestling with the paradox of the Mirror,' said Yggur. 'It can
only be used by one who knows how, but that way lies within the Mirror. Does
anyone know what that means?'
No one answered.
'I've been wondering if the glyphs around the border of the Mirror have
anything to do with it,' said Mendark. 'We know Yalkara put them there just
before she went to Aachan.'
Shand jumped.
'What's the matter with you?' Mendark demanded.
'Yalkara said something about that,' said Shand.
'What?' cried Mendark. 'What did she say?'
'The wind was howling through the gate. I couldn't hear her clearly.'
'Well, see if you can work it out!' Mendark snapped. 'It might be the key.'
'I've been thinking about the paradox for ages,' said Llian. 'Actually, the
answer is obvious.' He gazed around the room, assuming a look of beatific
simplicity.
Everyone stared at him. Mendark was the first to break. 'Then what is it?' he
said furiously. He had spent weeks puzzling over the paradox, without success.
Llian smiled, paused for effect, then said, 'The Mirror knows! It was surely
set to recognise Aeolior and show her how to use it.'