Shadows of the Dark Crystal (17 page)

While Tavra spoke, Emperor skekSo watched her intently, at one point with such directed intensity, Naia wasn't sure he was even listening to her words. The tip of his tongue, a pink and gray thing twitching between his upper beak and lower jaw, ran along the edge of his teeth and then disappeared with a soft
clack
.

“We see,” the Emperor said. “Well then! We hope you plan to leave in the morning, post-haste. To Ha'rar, to the Silver Sea. To wherever, and for however long it takes to find the traitors. Let
all
Gelfling know they are nothing but lies. We love Gelfling, we do, we loves them, of course, but traitors . . . No one loves traitors, Silverling . . . No one.”

The hall fell quiet again, this time with a backdrop of ambient murmuring among the Skeksis, one of them even letting out a quiet little snicker. The Chamberlain, still standing behind Naia, steepled his claws and shifted from foot to foot. She could hear his skirts rustling against the dry stone floor.

Tavra held her chin up. She really did look like the All-Maudra's daughter then, and Naia felt stupid for never having guessed.

“Indeed,” Tavra said. Then, with a weighty glance, she said to Naia, “Find me a chamber and have it prepared for me by the time I arrive. I would like to enjoy our lords' hospitality for a spell—alone.”

Tavra cleared her throat forcefully, and Naia realized it was not out of contempt that she was being dismissed. She met Tavra's eyes again, and as their gaze lingered, she felt someone else watching her. A familiar watching, like holes burning into her back. At the far end of the room, one of the lords was poised with his claws laced together, chin resting on his thick bony knuckles, red eyes fixed on her. His cloak and garb were all in black, giving him a countenance that seemed too wicked to befit a lord, or perhaps it was just the way he watched her.

“Guards! One! Show the Sogling to the All-Maudra's guest chambers!”

One of the guards stepped forward, standing at attention near the door. Though her stomach ached and she didn't fully understand Tavra's reasons, in that moment Naia would do anything to escape the black-clad lord's awful gaze, and she
nodded, bowing first to the soldier and then again to the Emperor. Then, with all the restraint she could muster, she fled, feeling the weight of the Skeksis' stares on her shoulders even after the doors to the banquet hall had closed.

N
aia stood with the Gelfling guard, wringing her hands. The tall hallway was curved and empty, with only the faint sounds of footsteps coming from some far-off floors. Gurjin had often described the castle as bustling, busy with guards and servants going about their duties of cleaning, preparing for the Skeksis' daily rituals, cooking, and the like, but Naia saw no evidence of any such activity. Even the single guard she now stood with was quiet, gesturing sharply with one gloved hand before walking down the hall. Neech, quiet and tense, wound tightly around her arm beneath her sleeve. Naia followed, feet still aching. Though she wanted nothing but to sit, rest, and quench her thirst, it was obvious Tavra had been trying to get her out of the chamber as quickly as possible.

Was it because she was here to incriminate Gurjin on behalf of the All-Maudra, or was it something else? If only she knew what had Tavra been trying to say!

“Does the All-Maudra's daughter visit frequently?” Naia asked the guard, who walked a couple of steps ahead of her. He was a little older than she, with thick reddish hair pulled back in a braid. He made no sign of recognition at the sound of her voice. At first she thought maybe he hadn't heard her, but when she asked
again and he made no response, she realized it was intentional. Neither of them said a word until he finally stopped before a new set of doors, pushing them open to reveal a guest chamber more elaborate than Naia's mother's own hearing chamber.

She stepped inside when the guard indicated. Turning around and standing across the threshold from him, she finally got a look at him, and what she saw turned her hands cold and clammy. His face held no expression, no life. There was no spark of animation in his wan features. When he spoke, the single word that came out was no more than a further creaking of the chamber doors.

“Stay,” he croaked.

Then he pulled the doors shut in front of her, and she was alone again.

What was wrong with the guard? She had never met a Gelfling so reluctant to speak—and his eyes! Anxious, Naia paused only to wipe the dirt and mud from the wood off her shoes—leaving a stain on the textured woven rug that sprawled across the main area of the chamber floor—before pressing her ear to the door. She waited until the guard's footsteps faded then gently pushed it open. The hallway beyond was bare and silent. She knew the answers to her questions lay ahead. Counting first to eight, then straightening her tunic and calming her nerves, Naia slipped out of the chamber and headed deeper into the castle. When a distant scent of food reached her nose, she followed it. Hot food meant cooks. Cooks meant Gelfling attendants, she hoped, and someone who might point her toward wherever her brother was being held captive.

She had not made it very far when a set of doors nearby
opened, letting out a plume of steam that smelled of boiling food, broth, and stew, along with the clanging and chopping orchestra of a large kitchen. Out came a small group of Podlings, dressed in burlap shifts, pushing a tray-topped cart on squeaky wooden wheels. Naia stood aside as they passed, bare feet plodding one in front of the other, headed for the banquet hall. Their numb shuffling steps had none of the animation or energy of the Podlings she had met in Sami Thicket, and when she offered a polite “Hello,” none turned to acknowledge her. In fact, their eyes were milky, not even trained ahead but gazing aimlessly at the ground. One in particular looked exceptionally inanimate, mouth hanging open and a gob of thick drool dangling from his gray lower lip. When the slow-moving procession had finally passed, Naia saw wood shackles clasped around their ankles, which, while horrible, hardly seemed necessary given the sluggish state of the little Pod people. What was going on here?

Naia trotted along the corridor more quickly, keeping her footfalls as light as she could even on the veined shining marble that seemed to amplify every sound that fell upon it. She wanted to find a room—anywhere she could stop and think without worrying that some soldier or guard or lord might come along and ask who she was and what she was doing. In such an expansive castle, it was hard to believe it might be nothing but hallway, but that's how it seemed as Naia continued on and on, up and down twisting stairs and along bridge-like throughways that passed over larger chambers. The entire way, she met no one but little scurrying crawlies and skittering bugs—not a single guard was to be seen.
She didn't even see any more of the strange Podling servants.

She stopped when something glinted in the corner of her eye. Deep in the maze of the castle's tangle of passageways came a fuchsia light, trickling through the dimmer shadows lit only by the occasional torch. Naia followed it, passing through a darker narrow tunnel that spilled onto a high balcony in a huge open-roofed chamber. Though no torch lit the walls and there was no ceiling beam to hang a chandelier, the chamber below was radiant with a violet ambience streaming from a source just out of sight. Naia paused. An old metal gate barred the threshold where the tunnel met the balcony. She
recognized
that light. Her insides clenched and her heart pounded, both terrified of what she would see and, at the same time, drawn by an instinct she didn't quite understand.

She shook gently on the gate; it was chained shut. Under normal circumstances, she imagined there might be guards posted here, one at either side, holding spears and keeping anyone out. But this stormy night, the guards were scarce and shadows plenty, and Naia took hold of the gate rails and climbed.

She pulled herself over the spear-pointed top and leaped down on the other side, taking the tunnel to the chamber balcony. The strange light crackled once like lightning, setting the air abuzz with its energy. She wanted to look—she wanted to see it, though she knew with every particle of her being that to see it would be to peer into the void. The void that she had only glimpsed in the silt of Sog—the abyssal dark flickering light that had swallowed the soul of the Nebrie. She could hear it turning, an almost grinding sound that she heard more in her bones than in her ears. Above
that, in the atmosphere, she made out a higher sound like that of an instrument or a choir. It was singing, no,
calling
to her, and she stepped forward to see its face.

Below, in a great circular hall honeycombed with entrances and exits, was a flat dais marked with hundreds of runes and other etchings—words and symbols, some of which Naia recognized from Kylan's writing and some which were completely foreign. At the center of the dais was an opening in the shape of a perfect circle; blinding red flames and waves of heat issued forth from it, as though it were a shaft which led directly to Thra's fiery core.

Floating above the dais, as if held aloft by the hot wind and burning light, was an enormous multifaceted stone in the rough shape of a blade, wide at the top and growing narrower as it pointed down into the lake of fire far below. Its blood-violet faces alternated rough and smooth, some shining like ice and others rippled with the texture of time. There it turned slowly, suspended, and from its dark crystalline body came the song that permeated Thra and that rang through Naia's heart with its beautiful sadness.

This was not the white pure Heart of Thra told of in song. This heart was the color of the crystal veins—the shade of a heart already darkened. In the Crystal's crown was a wound, a hole surrounded by fractures from when it had been struck. Naia shuddered at the sight, the source of the broken song, the crack that had caused the Crystal to bleed violet and red, darkening, its pain flowing through its veins to reach every part of Thra.

Naia felt tears on her cheeks, knowing what she wished was not true.

The Crystal was not in danger of infection by the crystal veins.

It was the source.

The immense overwhelming sadness of the Crystal's song pulled on Naia like no force she had experienced before—the ribbon she had seen in the swamp of Sog had been but a glimmer compared to the blinding gaze of the Crystal she beheld now. As she stared into its bright darkness, she began to see shapes, figures. Imposed upon the face of the Crystal—or in her mind, she couldn't be sure—she saw Tavra standing before the Skeksis in the banquet hall, far from where she stood before the Crystal.

“I believe he is here, within these very walls.”

The soldier's voice came loud and clear, as did those of the Skeksis when they broke into sudden raucous laughter. Did she mean Gurjin? Tavra stood before them, back straight and proud, while the lords pounded their fists on the table and crowed with cackles that were not very lordly at all.

“Treason!” bellowed the short-snouted lord in the armor. “Ahhhh! All Gelfling traitors, after all!”

“After all Skeksis does for you!” cried another. “Gelfling came here just to tell such lies!”

“You're awfully eager to get us out of the castle, after so many trine inviting us in,” Tavra called over the din, sternly, although her fingers twitched near the hilt of her sword. “I came to find the truth. If you vow to me that there's been nothing of concern—that the Crystal is in fact intact and well—and the rumors that you're responsible for the vanishing Pod people and the two missing guards are nothing but lies—then, I suppose, I
will report nothing of concern to my Lady Mother, and we will scour all of Thra to find the two traitors.”

“Then begone and report it!” shouted one lord, and his cry was echoed by his brethren.
Yes, begone! Report it! Tell her whatever she would like to hear! Treasonous Gelfling All-Maudra!

“Then vow it!” Tavra demanded. “Vow to me it's the truth! Vow to me that should I search this castle, I'll find no sign of the guards you accused of treason, and that should I look in on the Crystal, I'll find it shining white and bright as it did the day it became entrusted to you!”

The Skeksis, as eager as they had been to laugh and scream in Tavra's face, fell to a simmer of murmurs and whispers and chuckles.
She knows
, came the words,
oh ho
,
she knows
, like smoke rising from a kindling fire. Emperor skekSo, who had been quiet throughout, raised his triangle-headed scepter and waved it back and forth in a nonchalant, careless gesture.

“Silverling is sounding like a traitor herself,” he said.

“Where are all the castle guards? The last time I was here, there were two at every door and ten at the gate. Tonight, it's quiet as a crypt. My mother has had me searching the land for two traitors who are as scarce as ghosts, but I pursued them without asking questions. I sent Rian and Gurjin's closest kin to the Court of Ha'rar, as I was ordered. I trusted the All-Maudra and you, the Skeksis. But then I saw darkened creatures roaming the land. I heard the song of Thra singing out of tune. I heard testament to the good hearts of the so-called traitors . . . and I received a message from Rian of Stone-in-the-Wood claiming the Skeksis
are murderous liars, that Gurjin is here in the castle, and that my people are in danger.”

Emperor skekSo clacked his beak twice and continued dragging his scepter through the air in figure eights, the charms and jewels applied to its tip glinting hypnotically. Tavra held her ground, a thin piece of paper in her hand. She tossed the message to the stone-tiled floor.

“I am merely in search of truth,” she said. “Rian is an alleged traitor, so I came to find out for myself. If I am wrong, I invite you to prove it . . . because if I am right, it is the Skeksis who have betrayed us. Betrayed the castle, and the Heart of Thra. And I do not want to be right.”

The Vapra's words echoed in the hall, and Naia could hear nothing else except for the beating of her own heart. She held her breath, trying to quiet it. The Skeksis Lords were rustling, fidgeting, the feathers and scales on their heads and necks rising in anticipation. Again, the castle itself reacted, creaking as the tension in the room thickened, tightening, soon to snap. The Chamberlain, still standing near Tavra's back, rubbed his claws together.

Emperor skekSo snorted, casually picking at his teeth with a claw. He sighed, stretching his head forward on his sinewy neck.

“I'm very sorry, Silverling. I'm afraid . . . you are correct.”

Tavra's voice was unsurprised, slow, and grave when she responded. She asked her next question with the delivery of a regal command:

“Where are Gurjin and the missing Gelfling guards?”

“You can see for yourself. Chamberlain!”

Tavra's hand went to the hilt of her sword as the Chamberlain lunged forward. He caught her by the hair, knocking the sword from her hand. As he grabbed her arm with his other claw, the room exploded into shrieks and laughter, and the Skeksis Lords launched from their dining thrones, clambering over the banquet tables and converging on the Chamberlain and Tavra, sending platters and goblets clanging and shattering to the floor and against the walls. Tavra did not cry out as they amassed around her, clutching her by the arms and legs and hair, and lifting her, crowing with laughter and jeers.

“She wants to see!”

“Show her in person! See the Crystal herself!”

“To the chamber!”

“To the Chamber of Life!”

“No!” Naia cried, but her voice did not reach through the Crystal. In a parade of hysterical celebration and uncontrolled, garrulous fanfare, the Skeksis Lords tossed Tavra back and forth among them, finally dragging her with frantic waves of their berobed arms toward the exit. Even after they were out of sight, their deafening laughter and stomping feet beat through the body of the Crystal. Naia tried to make sense of it all in her fear and incredulousness, but one fact surfaced against the sea of questions.

The Skeksis Lords, protectors of the Castle of the Crystal, had betrayed them.

Heart pounding, Naia turned away from the Crystal, drawing Gurjin's dagger. Tavra had known—she had known even
before they had entered. She had been trying to save Naia, and for a moment, Naia thought about finding a window, descending the castle wall outside, and escaping. But even then, the masked monster lurked in the wood, and it would still be night for hours more. In her frantic state, she wouldn't be able to escape a second time. Guarded by the shadowy beast, armored in heavy gates and walls, the castle she had sought for shelter had become the most dangerous place in the Dark Wood.