CHAPTER 48

ABRI

THE LABYRINTH

THE BATTLE CAME TO AN END WITH THE EVENING. THE DRAGON-SNAKES were vanquished, destroyed; they no longer threatened to breach the walls. The wondrous green dragon— the likes of which no one had ever before seen in the Labyrinth—joined with the Patryns to defeat the serpents. The walls held, their magic swiftly reinforced. The gate stood fast. Hugh the Hand was the last one through before it shut. He bore Kari in his arms. He had found her lying wounded beneath a score of dead chaodyn.

He carried her inside the gate, gave her into the arms of her people.

“Where are Haplo and Marit?” the Hand demanded.

Vasu, directing the renewing of the gate’s magic, looked at him in sudden consternation. “I thought they were with you.”

“They haven’t come in here?”

“No, they haven’t. And I’ve been here the entire time.”

“Open the gate again,” Hugh ordered. “They must still be out there.”

“Open it!” Vasu commanded his people. “I will come with you.”

Hugh the Hand, glancing at the pudgy headman, was about to protest, but then remembered that he could not kill.

The gate swung open; the two men ran out into a host of the enemy. But with their leaders dead, the lust for battle seemed to have drained from the foe. Many were beating a retreat across the river, and these were creating confusion among the ranks.

“There!” Hugh the Hand pointed.

Hurt and bewildered, Marit was wandering alone near the base of the wall. A pack of wolfen, drawn by the scent of blood, were tracking her.

Vasu began to sing in a deep baritone.

Hugh the Hand decided the man had gone mad. This was no time for an aria! But suddenly an enormous bush, with long, spearing thorns, thrust up out of the ground, surrounded the wolfen. Thorns caught their thick fur, held them fast. Supple branches wrapped around their paws. The wolfen howled and shrieked, but the more they fought to escape, the more entangled they became.

Marit did not even notice. Vasu continued singing; the thorns grew deeper, denser. Above, Patryns waited until Marit was safe to finish off the wolfen trapped in the bush.

Hugh the Hand ran to her, caught hold of her. “Where is Haplo?”

She stared at him from eyes almost gummed shut by clotted blood. Either she couldn’t see him clearly or she didn’t recognize him. “Alfred,” she said to him in Patryn. “I must find Alfred.”

“Where is Haplo?” Hugh repeated in human, frustrated.

“Alfred.” Marit spoke the name over and over.

Hugh saw that he would get nothing from her in her dazed condition. He swept her up in his arms and ran back to Vasu. The headman sheltered them in his magic until they had safely reached the gate.

When night fell, the beacon fire still burned bright. The magic of the sigla on the walls glimmered and flickered, but their light continued to shine. The last of the foe slunk off into the wilderness, leaving their dead behind.

The elders who had spent the day inscribing the weapons with death-dealing runes now spent the night restoring life to those injured and dying.

Marit’s head wound was not life-threatening, but the healers could not heal it completely. Whatever weapon had torn her flesh must have been poisoned, they told Hugh the Hand when they showed him the raw and inflamed mark on her skin.

But at least Marit was conscious—far too conscious, as far as the healers were concerned. They had difficulty keeping her in her bed. She kept demanding to see Vasu, and at last they sent for him, since nothing else would calm her.

The headman came—exhausted, grieving. The city of Abri stood, but many had given their lives, including Kari. Including someone Vasu dreaded to name, especially to the woman who watched him draw near her sickbed.

“Alfred,” Marit said immediately. “Where is he? None of these fools knows or will tell me. I must find him! He can reach the Final Gate in time to fight the dragon-snakes! He can save our people.”

Patryns could not lie to each other, and Vasu was Pa-tryn enough to know that she would see through his deceit, no matter how kindly meant.

“He is a serpent mage. He changed into dragon form—”

“I know all that!” Marit snapped impatiently. “Surely he has changed back by now. Take me to him!”

“He… did not return,” Vasu said.

The life drained from Marit’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“He fell from the skies, perhaps mortally wounded. He’d been fighting a legion of dragons…”

“Perhaps!” Marit grabbed the word, clung to it. “You didn’t see him die! You don’t know if he’s dead!”

“Marit, we saw him fall—”

She rose from her bed, shoving aside the restraining hands of the healers. “Show me where.”

“You can’t go out there,” Vasu said sternly. “It’s too dangerous. There are roving bands of wolfen and tiger-men, furious at their defeat, waiting to catch one of us alone.”

“The human assassin. Where is he?”

“Here, Marit.” Hugh the Hand stood up. He had been watching by her bedside, unseen, unnoticed. “I’ll go with you. I need to find Alfred myself,” he added grimly.

“He is our only hope,” Marit said. Her eyes glimmered with tears for a moment. “He is Haplo’s only hope.” She blinked the tears away and reached for her weapons, which the healers had set aside.

Vasu did not ask what she meant. Xar’s magic had not blinded the headman’s eyes. He had seen the Lord of the Nexus, had witnessed the meeting of the three. He had seen Xar leave with Haplo… and the dog. He had guessed that the Lord of the Nexus was not traveling to the battle of the Final Gate.

“Let her go,” he said to the healers.

They stood aside.

Vasu led Marit and Hugh the Hand to the wall. He pointed out to them where he had seen the dragon—flaming green and gold—fall from the skies. He opened the gate of Abri and saw them depart into the darkness.

Then he stood for long, long hours, until the dawn, watching in despair a sullen red glow that lit the horizon in the direction of the Final Gate.

APPENDIX I

THE ACCURSED BLADE

SPECULATIONS

Written by Alfred Montbank sometime during his sojourn in the Labyrinth.

OF ALL THE UNFORTUNATE THINGS MY PEOPLE DID JUST BEFORE the Sundering, the development of a weapon such as this cursed knife—now in the possession of Sir Hugh—is one of the most deplorable. Here is evidence that we involved innocent people—humans, elves, dwarves, the very people we were supposed to be protecting—in our battle against the Patryns.

That the blade was intended for use by the mensch is beyond doubt. I have examined it, examined the runes inscribed on it, and I am convinced. It was crafted in haste— that much is obvious from its crude design and manufacture—and therefore, most probably, the blades were turned out in large quantities.

Were Samah and the Council members so terrified of the Patryns that they armed entire legions of mensch with these heinous weapons? I can only suppose that the answer is, sadly, yes. Yet nowhere have I read that any wars involving mensch took place in the final days of pre-Sun-dering Earth. Such battles as did occur between Patryn and Sartan were generally fought on an individual basis, terrible tourneys of magic which invariably proved fatal to one or both combatants.

But from information about those last days obtained from my dear Orla, I think I can speculate on what happened. Consumed by fear, terrified that the Patryns were forming their own armies (this may or may not have been the case), Samah and the Council decided to prepare a defense, armed vast numbers of mensch with these magical weapons. I doubt they meant to send the mensch to war (For one thing, Samah wouldn’t trust them!). Most likely, the mensch armies were to be used as cover, to fight a delaying action, allowing the Sartan time to enter the Seventh Gate and proceed with the Sundering.

Such a battle apparently never took place. Perhaps the mensch revolted (I hope so!), or perhaps even Samah felt some twinges of conscience over forcing others to fight his battles for him. Apparently most of the cursed weapons were either destroyed in the Sundering or confiscated by the Sartan before establishing the mensch on the new worlds.

How did this one escape? It undoubtedly fell into the hands of an unscrupulous elf who, impressed by the weapon’s power, decided to keep it for himself. The blade itself would be a willing ally, eager to assist in its own survival. The elf was trained in the blade’s use, but, due to circumstance—perhaps his untimely death—such information was not passed along to future generations. Only the blade was handed down. The elf could have no idea he was passing on such a deadly legacy.

How does the blade work?

The following are my speculations based on Hugh’s and Haplo’s accounts of the blade in action, and my own study of the sigla inscribed on the weapon. (An interesting point: in enhancing the weapon with rune-magic, we Sartan did exactly what we had always claimed we despised the Patryns for doing, giving life to that which is not meant to have it!)

1. The first action the blade takes is to block the enemy’s ability to sense danger. Thus Haplo had no warning that Hugh the Hand was stalking him in the Factree, never knew that the assassin was waiting in ambush on the ship.

2. The blade’s second action reduces an enemy’s possibilities of retaliation. The blade cannot eliminate all possibilities; that would take far greater power than the blade possesses. But it can and does limit the choice of options to those it can easily handle.

3. The blade’s third action analyzes both the enemy’s strength and weakness and reacts accordingly. Sometimes this reaction is a very simple one for the blade to perform, as in the unfortunate “fight” between the two elf brothers. The blade, facing a dueling dagger, had only to turn itself into a sword to kill its foe. When Hugh the Hand first encountered Haplo, the blade changed itself to an ax against Haplo’s knife.

Notice, however, that when the blade encounters additional opponents, its strength increases. The blade became a bat when attacking both Marit and Haplo. When this attack failed, the blade turned into a tytan.

Also of interest is the fact that the blade appears to draw on the memories and thoughts of the victims. Haplo says that he does not recall thinking specifically of tytans during the brief stop their ship made in Pryan (admittedly, he did have a great deal on his mind!), but it seems logical to me that he must have at least had the giants he encountered on that world in his subconscious.

And that is all I have been able to determine about the blade so far. As to any further speculations, I would have to see the blade in action (something I’d rather not do!) to be able to provide additional information on it.

I take this moment to add some information that I have acquired on the Cursed Blade. The first bit of information is good: the blade can be controlled by the user. All one has to do is to say the word “stop” in Sartan.

This last is written in an agitated style, from which we must conclude that Alfred probably recorded this information just before the Siege of Abri.

The second piece of information is very bad. Apparently the blade can also be controlled by outside forces! I have evidence that the dragon-snakes are able to wield some sort of influence over it.

The weapon was created out of fear, designed to kill, and so it would naturally be drawn to the dragon-snakes.

They, in turn, appear to be able to control the blade’s magic. They cannot, it seems, cause the blade to turn against its user. But the snakes can direct the blade’s actions and reactions to suit their own purposes. Haplo thinks now that it was the Cursed Blade that brought the tiger-men down on us. And the blade apparently issued some sort of call to the dragon-snakes, alerting them to its presence in Abri.

There must be some way to destroy this weapon. Unfortunately, I can’t think of any at the moment, but then my mind is rather flurried. Perhaps if I had time to reflect and study the matter further…

(Editor’s note: Here the text ends.)

Starchamber of the Pryan Citadels

APPENDIX II

THE STAR CHAMBER OF PRYAN

Being excerpts from The Book of Stars as written by Paithan, Lord Master of Drugar Citadel, who has edited and amended the text. May the reader enjoy the enlightenment of the stars.

I am indebted to the tytans and to my sister, Aleatha, for the translation of Sartan runes.

EYE OF SUNS

A phrase, peculiar to the Sartan, which means “a perspective from on high” or, in this case, an overview.

Pryan is a world of power. It keeps the other worlds beyond our own operating. Its heartbeat brings the lifeblood of power, heat, and light to these Sundered Realms. Without the power of the stars that shine above our home and the strength of our light, worlds beyond our understanding only sleep, half dead from lack of nourishment.

Pryan’s stationary suns keep all of their life-giving power within the confines of the world’s vast interior. The suns’ light brings life to the world’s inhabitants. Yet this important function is but a portion of its true purpose of creation.

The light of Pryan’s suns—which originates from four separate celestial bodies rather than the single sun perceived by us from our distant ground—is transferred either directly or indirectly into the rock that is the foundation of the world. I myself have seen this very rock and affirm that it does in fact exist. This rock foundation then collects the energy generated by the suns and forests above it, and stores it in ever increasing amounts deep within its stone. The energy is then collected by the citadel, whose roots sink deep into the foundations of Pryan. These roots radiate energy from the citadel and store it in the well—known as the Well of the World. Only the cap of the Worldgem holds this energy in place.*

Paithan adds this for those who live on the high surface of Pryan. There the ground consists of the tops of immense trees whose roots remain unknown to those who are born, live, and die in their boughs.

“Well of the World” and “Worldgem,” in addition to many other fanciful names in the text, are undoubtedly Paithan’s constructions. While they do reflect his romantic nature, they are not necessarily instructive in terms of the function of the machine itself. The term “Worldgem,” however, may be a mensch rendering of the Sartan Eort-Batu’h rune. Eort signifies life and power— a cross structure in magic that bridged Fire and Water magicks. Batu’h would refer to the concept of “foundation” rather than a crystalline stone. If this is the case, then this “Worldgem” is the focal point of a life or power wave—probably the emissions from the “well.”

GENERAL STRUCTURE AND MOTION

The Star Chamber’s lower area houses Seven Thrones, which surround and face the Well of the World. These thrones are immense, so that tytans may sit comfortably in them. The presence of the tytans is essential for the operation of the machine. The throne chamber is separated from the chamber above by a framework and the mechanism for the Star Machine.

This second chamber is enclosed by a huge dome formed of several curved panels to resemble the petals of a lotus blossom. Each panel is made up of colored glass mounted in a latticework of metal. The glass is inscribed with Sartan runes which, according to the tytans, channel the light into the Star Machine. When the machine is operating, the panels open fully to shine forth its power.

The Star Machine itself has two major parts: the lower clockworks called the Stellar Clock and the upper known as the Conduit Clock. Both sections of the mechanism are suspended by mobile mountings over the Seven Thrones. The Worldgem is held at the end of the Liftarm, suspended from the Stellar Clock down into the Well of the World, which is located in the floor.

The Worldgem seals the Well of the World. A gigantic arching metal arm ending in a metal hand grips the gem and holds it in place while the machine is dormant. This extends downward from a retraction mechanism that pulls the Worldgem out of the well when conditions merit.* The arm itself is retracted into a Spatial Fold—a marvelous magic sphere.

I am still not sure just what these “conditions” might be.

The Stellar Clock is cradled inside two opposing mounted rings which are in turn set on a massive swivel mount. The retracted Worldgem and the two rings surrounding it can be positioned in any configuration.

The major mounting for the Stellar Clock is called the Alignment Rotation Ring. This is a rotating mount which can turn the entire lower clockwork around the axis of the well. An Alignment Clock, which is driven by the Primary Orientation Clock and sequenced independently by Babbage Difference Engines,* turns the Alignment Rotation Ring and, with it, the Stellar Clock.

This is a direct translation of the Sartan rune-structure. I’m not sure what it means. I feel like a child examining with wonder the workings of my father’s old watch and trying to understand how it operates.

This again is a direct translation from the runes.

Inside the Alignment Rotation Ring is mounted the Diffusion Ring. An amazing number of gears, rods, and cams are positioned along this arc. They swivel and otherwise adjust the orientation of convex mirrors, prisms, and gems which all find their focal point on the Stellar Clock. As with the Alignment Rotation Ring, the Diffusion Ring can be tilted by the Diffusion Clock Drive, which appears to operate on the same principles as the Alignment Clock.

A third ring is mounted inside the Diffusion Ring and is called the Combinant Ring. This ring, too, is fitted with a vast number of gears, screws, and clockworks which support concave mirrors, prisms, and gems. It, too, focuses on the Stellar Clock. Its name implies the combining of force and would seem to act counter to the Diffusion Ring around it. Perhaps these two—the Diffusion Ring and the Combinant Ring—act to cancel each other out and keep forces balanced?*

On the other hand, it could be that the Diffusion Ring separates the power drawn up from the roots of the world into more basic wave forms and narrower spectra of energy, which could then be recombined selectively through the Combinant Ring

The Upper Alignment Ring is the foundation mount for the Conduit Clock. Like the Alignment Rotation Ring, the Upper Alignment Ring also rotates around the axis of the Well of the World being driven by the Primary Orientation Clock. It is this clockwork which seems to provide the power for the rest of the device as well.

I find no drive or power mechanism for this clockwork which normally would have a weight-and-pendulum arrangement. I surmise that within the mechanism itself is some means of gaining energy from the stream of force coming from the Well of the World. In fact, I suspect that this is the purpose of the Diffusion Field Collector shown in the drawing.

The Primary Orientation Clock is mounted on a great curving frame that can be rotated by the Upper Orientation Ring. Near the top of this frame is set the Secondary Orientation Clock, which traverses the upper curve of the frame via a screw device.

This Primary Orientation Clock and Secondary Orientation Clock then positions the fork and rings of the Conduit Clock into alignment with spindles mounted below it. These Conduit Spindles apparently interact with the power generated in the lower mechanism in order to be transferred to the other Realms.

*According to the tytans, these conduits link the Sundered Realms to each other.

I have not been present when the machine is in full motion, for the light in the room is so bright as to blind the viewer. Only the tytans can withstand that light, and they cannot give sufficient description.

Still, I have witnessed the earlier stages of the process. Energy build-up in the Well triggers the mechanism into action. The energy is then carried up the Liftarm and sets the machine in motion. This is the beginning of the cycle.

As the machine begins to move, the Alignment Rotation Drive turns the Alignment Rotation Ring, the Diffusion Ring, and the Combinant Ring. The mirrors of both lower rings and the Stellar Clock begin to rotate into position. Gems and prisms flash as they orient themselves. The Liftarm begins to raise the Worldgem out of the Well and into the Stellar Clock. A powerful, throbbing light issues from the Well of the World as the gem rises higher into the machine. The Conduit Clock also begins to move, shifting the position of its rings and spindles. I have noticed that this orientation differs each time the motion begins and is never exactly repeated.

During this process, the lotus-blossom sections of the dome start to open. It is at this point that the Worldgem is set into the center of the Stellar Clock and the entire chamber is filled with such brilliant light that further observation is impossible. It is this light that we used to believe were the “stars.”

The tytans now operate the Star Chamber. Its powerful light radiates from the tallest spire of our city. Darkness, too, still comes to our city regularly in each cycle, yet even through the darkness this light shines. Across the heavens, we view the constant light of a thousand stars. The citadel was built by those who are now gone. We see our purpose here as a sacred trust to add our light to those that shine in the sky. Someday others in far distant worlds may see that light and find their way home.