The Malmillard Codex (20 page)

His words had little meaning for Val, until
he remembered some fragments of the history of the Rift from his
dreams.

"That's the same Rift that Madryn was
involved in destroying?" Val asked hesitantly.

"The same. In all the time that the portal
has been down there, we have watched it for Malmillard, taking
careful note of what happens around it, what passes through it in
either direction. Our watchers have seen some bizarre occurrences
over the years, but none more uncanny that the creatures that came
out…and became the horde of bandits that attacked your caravan."
Aanakun rose and dusted the sand off his hands, motioned to the
other two to rise. "It began as a whirling mist of mingled black
and copper. I saw it myself, it being my turn on duty."

Aanakun led them towards another segment of
the snaking ravine. Against its side, a ladder made of rope and
strips of metal led downward; the twists and turns of the ancient,
long-departed river had wrapped the resulting crevice almost on top
of itself in some spots. Here, so close to the alien portal that
the hum could still be heard, it was still possible to hide a small
encampment deep in the shadowy depths of the ravine.

The ladder supports were cut into the rocky
limestone walls; at certain sections, wide ledges made it possible
to stand and walk before being forced back onto the ladder. Strong,
protruding poles outstretched, making it possible to lower supplies
into the ravine instead of carrying them down by hand.

The poles also made convenient handholds for
those without a head for heights; Val was pleased to discover. He
made full use of them as he clambered down into the darkening pit.
Descending before Val, Garet slithered down as if he used the
ladder every day of his life.

At the bottom of the arroyo was a shelter, a
cave that penetrated into the side of the cliff and disappeared
into darkness. Inside its gloom, Val and Garet sat down to learn
all that Aanakun could tell them about the portal.

It wasn't much. Val wondered if it would do
them any good. He'd still not quite accepted that Madryn had been
taken inside that thing that rested around a corner of rock from
them, but he'd seen the tracks that disappeared before it.

"The portal opens each day at sunrise and
sunset," Aanakun said. "It remains open only the briefest of times,
so you must be careful to enter it at precisely the proper moment,
no sooner, no later, and to come out," he paused, then repeated
with even greater emphasis, "and
to come out
at exactly the
correct moment as well. We've never seen any horses go into it;
that's why we believe that they cannot live inside there. It's not
surprising, really, considering what it's like on the other
side."

"You've been inside?"

"Several of us have been just on the other
side of the portal, on the very outskirts of the place that exists
there," Aanakun admitted with a nod. "It is one of our tests, when
new arrivals come from the city or some village desiring to join
our band. If an initiate can enter through the portal and stay
there in view of the central tower for the space of one full day,
sunrise to sunset, then she or he is accepted into our band."

"Tower?" asked Garet, even his normally high
spirits somewhat dampened by the otherworldly hum that still
surrounded them, an irritating insect of noise. "What tower?"

"The tower…the tower that reaches to the sky
within that dark and frigid place," said Aanakun, unsuccessfully
trying to suppress a shudder.

"So the things that took Madryn went through
this portal, into a strange cold land, at dawn today? And to follow
her, I must go through it too, and at sunset, I take it?" Val asked
to make quite sure he understood. He was almost sure that he
remembered this very tower from a recent dream, though the image
was vague and unreal.

But it didn't matter. If that was where
Madryn was, then that was where he was going too.

But he thought again of that tower in his
dreams and shivered, though the cave was warm and dry.

"We test our initiates by sending them in to
spend the day," Aanakun reminded Val. "We know not what might
happen if one enters at night, for the few who have tried it…did
not return. That is why I think it safer if you enter at sunrise,
and remember to return at sunset when the portal opens again. Time
travels on different feet inside that land beyond the portal; days,
even longer, will seem to pass for you as you wander there. You
must keep careful watch upon the sky. It will darken from its ruddy
hues to a jetty black, and stars will wink into view, one by one,
until there are thirteen. Then the portal will open. Remember, the
most stars that any of our brethren have ever counted there—and
lived to tell of it—are thirteen."

"So I must spend my time counting stars?"
Val laughed grimly. His hands moved in slow and measured strokes as
he ran a whetstone down the length of his blade. The scrape and
singing of stone against steel punctuated his remarks. "I don't
think so. I will enter, find Madryn, and then bring her back. And
nothing, not even stars, had better get in my way."

"Perhaps you will," shrugged Aanakun.
"Stranger things have happened, to be sure."

The stone ceased its constant motion for an
instant, and then resumed.

"Why are you helping me?" Val asked. He'd
wondered this many times over the course of that day, but he'd been
too pressed by his need for hurry to voice his question. Now that
he'd seen the trail he had followed end up at the edge of that odd
stone portal to nowhere, he'd started to accept the other things
Aanakun told him. But doubt still nagged him, and he had no desire
to risk Madryn's safety on a man he'd just met.

The desert bandit scratched his grizzled
beard. "We make our living off others, as most do through all the
lands, I suppose," Aanakun began; the faint echoes of his deep,
slow voice were captured and reflected by the uneven cave walls.
"But we have learned from the Malmillard that this world in which
we live is a fragile creature, needing our protection. We do our
little part to keep it on a stable path."

Val spat out a bitter laugh, thinking of his
time in the slave pens, in the arena, his brief days in the house
of Lady Alysa…thinking of the kind of man Valaren Starseeker had
been, and the damage he had worked on Madryn and others. "Stable?"
he asked. "If you consider the way our world works 'stable', then
perhaps we'd be better for a bit of a stumble."

Aanakun scooped up a fistful of sand and
smiled as he held it, grains trapped within tightly clenched
fingers, before Val's eyes.

"Balance in all things, Master Val," he
said, then open his sand-filled hand flat. At once, rivulets began
to flow from his horny palms, and soon most of the sand had sought
and returned to its former place upon the ground, leaving only
errant granules on the broad flat hand. "Some of us suffer more
than others, it is true. Some are luckier than others. But if they
who live behind that portal were to have their way with us—we would
all suffer, all the time."

The sing and scrape of stone and steel was
the nomad's only reply.

When the portal
began to open, Val caught his breath in wonder.

The portal had hardly been worth a glance
when first they'd seen it over the top of the ravine. If not for
the obvious ending of the trail he'd been following at its very
mouth, Val would have passed it by, thinking it to be merely a
fragment of some ancient, forgotten temple left to rot in the
desert, or perchance a bit of the skeleton of some primordial
building, tumbled and worn by endless desert winds.

The portal consisted of a pile of weathered
gray stones gathered into two uneven columns; one was as tall as
three tall man, the other shorter by almost one half; there was
perhaps half the height of the taller column between them.

Yet, surely the thing's age was such that it
must have stood here abandoned in this ravine when it was filled
with rushing waters? But no, Val remembered. According to Aanakun,
the portal had appeared only some thirty years before.

Val had spent a restless night, hardly
daring to sleep for fear of missing the few moments he had to make
use of the gate, and not trusting anyone to awaken him in time.
He'd tossed and turned, dozing off for brief moments and then
jerking awake, his nerves clamoring in alarm. He was glad of this
alarm; he had no wish to spend this night of all nights submerged
in the memories and life of such a man as Valaren Starseeker—not
when he must go through the portal the next dawn.

Now it was almost time to enter. Now, as the
portal changed and shifted before his wondering eyes as he watched
it from the cover of a pile of rocks, its image of age and
abandonment vanished, shattered in an instant. The topmost stone
began to glow from within, losing its age-worn appearance as the
first rays of the sun struck it over the tip of the ravine.
Coruscating beams of light, their colors unnamable to Val, spat out
like bolts of lightning from the stone as the sun's rays caressed
it, and the substance took on the glow of polished marble. A wind
leaked from between the columns—no warm desert zephyr, but icy cold
and thick with the smell of danger.

"When the last stone of the right member
begins to glow, you must enter between them," repeated Aanakun in
Val's right ear, his voice rising to a shout to be heard over the
rising icy winds. "Remember the thirteen stars and be ready to come
back through when they appear."

Val nodded. "I'll remember." He wondered if
Aanakun realized he had no intention of leaving without Madryn.
Whatever had happened to her, whether harmed or whole, mad or sane,
Val would find her and bring her back.

Or die there, in that strange place beyond
the portal, in her arms.

Garet squawked in Val's other ear, his voice
tinny and uncertain over the rising cacophony. "I'll help you to
remember it all, Master Val. Who can count better than a thief,
after all?"

The boy's cheerful nature was only slightly
damped by the uncanny sight that occurred before them. They
squatted, two men and a ragged boy, behind a tumble of rocks,
protected to a small extent from the frigid winds, but not at all
from the sounds that rose like banshee wails about them.

Val cast a quick look at Aanakun, jerked his
head in Garet's direction. The bearded chieftain caught the look
and nodded. Val watched the bandit lay a hand across Garet's back,
entangling his fingers in the boy's ragged tunic. Garet, engrossed
in the eerie sight before him, took no notice of that small,
surreptitious movement.

Val had to enter the portal. He did not have
to drag the boy inside with him. Garet would be safe with the
nomads until Val's return—if he returned.

Another stone began to throb and sing with
color and light, then another. The winds rose in force, became a
gale of icy fear.

Another stone, then two more.

Val tugged at the straps that bound a small
pack of supplies to his back, ran a finger across the hilts of the
dagger in each boot top, then laid a hand on the hilt of his sword.
A brief glimpse of the past rose before his eyes—how he'd hugged
Madryn when she'd bought the sword for him…the surprised look she'd
had in her eyes…

He'd see those eyes, gray shot with violet,
again. Val had no doubt of it.

He would not, could not allow himself to
doubt.

Three stones were left that had yet to join
their brethren in colorful display. Val stood up, buffeted at once
by the whipping winds that slapped at him with icy fingers. Garet
stood up beside him, a smaller pack on his back, a long dagger in a
leather sheath cinched tight around his narrow waist. The boy's
eyes and mind were so caught up in the display going on before them
that he did not notice when Aanakun stood up behind him and
tightened his grip on Garet's tunic.

The next to last stone began to glow on its
very topmost edge.

"Now!" shouted Aanakun.

Val began to run towards the portal, gauging
his steps so that his timing would be perfect.

"Master!"

Val heard Garet's faint wail behind him.

Good,
he thought as the cold winds
stung his face, the portal looming tall before him.
At least the
boy will be safe.

Val paused for one measured heartbeat at the
very entrance to the portal, as the last stone of the towering left
pylon was touched with light. The temperature of the air, already
icy, dropped even further; Val could feel the frigid winds trying
to rip the hair from his head, the clothes from his back, forcing
him, shoving him backwards as he gathered his courage for the final
step.

In the next instant, the last stone
shimmered with light. A shivering spiral of uncanny colors opened
up between the pylons, pulsing and glowing with magical
splendor.

Val flung himself through the gate…and
disappeared.

With a wailing shriek and the ripping of
rotten cloth, Garet tore free of Aanakun grip and dashed forward.
Just as the spiral that had swallowed up Val began to shrink from
its former magnificence, the boy leaped into the center of it.

In less time that it takes to wink an eye,
Aanakun the bandit chief stood alone before two tumbled piles of
weathered stones. The desert dawn was still and warm around
him.

In one outstretched hand dangled a dirty
strip of torn cloth.

"You were going
to leave me behind," complained Garet for the hundredth—or was it
thousandth—time.

They were trudging along a narrow rocky
pathway that skirted a perfectly round pool of dark, strangely
shimmering luminescence.

"And after all I've done for you, too,"
Garet continued.