"Another enemy declares herself," Maria said when she reached for her wine goblet again, her hand trembled slightly, a show of emotion she had not permitted herself while Gioia was in the room.
"Better a declared enemy than one who strikes without warning." Silvas replied. Behind the words, they shared their true appreciation of the event.
Satin and Velvet went to the spot where Gioia had stood and sniffed at the floor. The cats were tense, ready for a fight.
"Barreth and Gioia," Maria said. "How many more of the old gods, and the demigods who serve them?"
"If we have time, we may yet win over some of the old gods," Silvas said. "At least to a grudging tolerance for us. Until that day, we have to worry about staying alive."
"We're but two, with such few servants as we have in the Seven Towers." And we don't yet know the full scope or limits of our abilities.
I have my centuries of wizardry, and those talents are not inconsiderable, as Mikel himself realized long ago, Silvas reminded her. And there is the infusion of knowledge and power that Mikel gave me before the battle for Mecq reached its conclusion.
It seems that neither Mikel nor Gioia has any real appreciation of how closely we are linked, Maria added, still looking for anything that would help buoy her spirits.
"We're something they've never encountered before," Silvas said, returning to spoken words. "They must proceed with some measure of caution, against whatever surprises we hold for them."
"You are a deicide already," Maria said. "Their hatred for us must be tempered by that knowledge. And fueled by it."
"Contacting Mikel remains the logical next step in learning what may come, but I think we must postpone that now. We need to take more care for the defense of the Seven Towers and the village."
"Such as?" Maria asked.
"Many things. Firstly, we need to speak with Braf. This time, we'll go to him."
"Downstairs, in the great hall," Maria said, discerning Braf's location without effort. That was one facet of their new powers that Maria had taken to more readily than Silvas had. "It's nearly time for supper. Everyone will be gathering, especially now that there's been time for them to learn that we are going to take our meal there."
"Yes, yes, of course," Silvas said. "I had almost forgotten." Even the mind of a god could lose track of details.
The great hall of the Glade was filled when Silvas and Maria entered. The level of conversation was intense, but people spoke with lowered voices, and stopped when they saw Maria and Silvas.
Braf, a word with you, Silvas projected as he escorted Maria to the head table. Braf hurried over.
"For the time being, we'll dispense with attempts to break through the veil, Braf," Silvas said. "You may dismiss your men."
"As you wish, lord," Braf replied.
"Rather than try to break this magic, we'll strengthen it, make it our own," Silvas explained. "Until we know clearly how the winds blow from the land of the gods, we'll use that barrier as an added line of defense."
Braf nodded slowly. "The folk in the village…" he started, and stopped when he saw that Silvas knew where he was going.
"When they have need of commerce, I'll open a way for them. We'll send guards with them to the next village, or wherever they need to go. Send word to the reeve and tell him to arrange for everyone with needs beyond the valley to be ready at the same time."
"Aye, lord. When will it be convenient?"
"For now, let us say Tuesday next, though that may change. If this situation continues for any great time, we'll make more permanent arrangements."
"Aye, lord. I'll trot down to the village myself after the meal."
"That'll be fine, Braf. Thank you." Silvas turned to Maria. And we'll do our work after the meal as well.
– |The work that Silvas had in mind started in the pentagram. He and Maria worked through a lengthy series of spells-some so old that Silvas had learned them at the knee of Auroreus, others made new on the spot, combining Silvas's centuries of experience as a wizard with the godly powers that he and Maria had so recently gained. When the preparatory work was complete, they used a spell of passage to leave the pentagram safely.
"Now we ride," Silvas told Maria before they left the workroom. Satin and Velvet were with them.
When they reached the mews, Bay and Camiss were saddled and waiting. Camiss seemed fully recovered from her earlier exertions and stress. She had been fed and groomed, and showed no objection when Maria mounted her.
"We go first to the intersection in the village," Silvas told Bay, and during that ride, Silvas told the horse of Gioia's visit and what they planned to do now.
Full night had fallen, but it was a night such as they had never seen before. The moon and stars had a different cast through the peach-colored veil that hung over the valley. There was an unusual softness to the deep shadows. But there was sufficient light for horses and cats-and gods.
At the crossroads, they dismounted. Maria tied Camiss's reins to a post off to the side. Bay needed no restraint. Satin and Velvet moved out of the way and sat where they could watch the roads without being seen themselves.
After dark, there were no villagers out. Even without the strange veil over the sky, most villagers would have been inside long since. There were few lights visible in the cottages of the village. Most of the people would already be asleep. Even in the valley of the Seven Towers, most folk worked the land, and moved to the natural rhythms of day and night. There was little chance that Silvas and Maria would be disturbed at their work, or even spotted.
Silvas scribed a pentagram in the center of the crossroads, using the silver ferrule of his wizard's staff. There was no hesitation to his work, no lack of precision to the lines he drew. When the diagram was complete, Silvas and Maria moved to the center and stood back-to-back as they spoke the spells to empower this pentagram and link it to the one within the Seven Towers.
"We're ready to start the real work now," Silvas whispered.
Silvas stood facing north, Maria south. They paused before they started the next series of incantations. Their minds ranged out across the valley and up the slopes of the surrounding hills, touching the veil that closed the valley off from the rest of the world.
As they chanted, the veil became more visible in the darkness, glowing actively, orange and peach and pink, hiding the moon and stars beyond. Rays of pale light appeared to emanate from Silvas and Maria, connecting them to the veil-almost as if their bodies were being mapped to the lower screen. A second spell cast growing, luminous shadows of their bodies: shadows that expanded until they lost definition.
Silvas's concentration was entirely wrapped up in the business of weaving these new spells. Maria managed to find room for little-girl wonder at what they were doing. This was so much more than the easy communion between her mind and Silvas's, or any of the other evidences of Carillia's gift that she had seen since coming to the Seven Towers. Maria's awareness of the new state she had attained grew deeper tendrils, tightening their grip on her innermost being. This is what it is like to be one of the gods.
Silvas and Maria did not try to break the veil that hovered like a bubble over the valley, but they did touch it, repeatedly, infusing themselves into its fabric. They felt the power that had barricaded the valley, though they could not identify its source or unravel its intricacies. They did match the original creative power with their own, though, adding new layers inside and out, sealing off the original work and compressing it between their own, welding all together and making it theirs-as fully as they could. As they labored toward the nadir of the day, the color of the veil changed. It became a full rainbow of soft tints, ranging from violet and blue in the east through red in the west.
The rainbow was a promise to Noah that the Deluge would not be repeated, was a thought Silvas and Maria shared when the colors were at their most intense. For a few moments, they lingered, viewing their handiwork with satisfaction. Then they retreated to their bodies. As they withdrew from the veil that was now also a shield, the colors of the rainbow faded until the moon and stars could once more be seen through it-those celestial objects now tinted by whichever portion of the rainbow they shone through.
Maria felt suddenly very tiny when her awareness was once more confined by her physical body. Even the bubble over the valley seemed immense, and she found herself thinking of the unimaginable vastness of the universe beyond it. For a moment, she was caught up in those feelings, until Silvas's thought-words broke in.
We've done but half our work, love.
I know, she replied. It was the first time Silvas had used the word "love" to her. "Think," she said softly. "Each night, the moon will show each color of the rainbow as it flies across the sky."
"There will be a new beauty in the heavens," Silvas allowed.
They spoke the spells to deactivate the pentagram in which they stood. Together, they scuffed away the marks in the dirt road with their feet. It wouldn't do to leave the pentagram here for the villagers to wonder about in the morning, Silvas said.
"You go east, and I'll go west," he said then, speaking softly but aloud. "Now you'll get a chance to see what Camiss can really do."
They mounted and rode in opposite directions, following the road across the narrow diameter of the valley. The cats separated. Satin followed Maria, and Velvet went with Silvas. Maria urged Camiss to an easy canter, her mind touching the horse's mind, assuring Camiss that there were no dangerous obstacles in their path. It's a gentle road, with no ruts or holes to catch a hoof. The white mare stretched out and ran, satisfied with her task, unaware of the great magics that were being perpetrated. Satin kept pace easily, and when Maria glanced to the side, the great cat looked up with what seemed to be extreme pleasure.
They slowed down as the road steepened, and Maria reined Camiss back to a walk the last hundred yards. In the dark shade of the trees, the bubble was almost invisible, even to Maria, unless she made a special effort to see it.
Maria dismounted and walked to within inches of the barrier, then reached out and touched it with both hands, fingers spread wide. There was a slight warmth to the veil, and it felt somewhat stiffer than before. It also seemed to throb now, just barely, as if it had a life of its own.
After a moment, Maria turned her back to the veil, and stepped back until she felt it press against her. She spread her arms out to either side, against the veil. There was little sense of curvature to the barrier up close. For all the feel against her back, the veil might have been a perfectly flat wall.
Her mind leaped across the valley to touch Silvas's mind. He was arrayed against the far side of the barrier, just as she was. In concert, they started a new series of incantations. The rainbow bubble brightened again, and faded when they completed the spell. The vibrations that Maria could feel were somewhat stronger, and more rapid.
Maria mounted Camiss again, and they raced back to the crossroad, reaching it just as Silvas and Bay did. Neither dismounted.
"I'll take the north, and you take the south," Silvas said. "Afterward, we'll meet at the gate to the Glade. Bay can cover the greater distance faster than Camiss."
The cats changed places. Velvet went with Maria, and Satin went with Silvas.
With a longer run in front of him, Bay stretched out to almost the fastest pace he could manage, and that made Satin work to keep up. Silvas sat his saddle and let Bay worry about the business of getting to the north end of the valley. They had often ridden like this before, though rarely so late at night. Bay galloped almost to the barrier, stopping only a single length from it.
"I think I'll have to take an occasional night run even after this," Bay said while Silvas dismounted. "I find a perverse pleasure in it."
"Perverse?" Silvas asked.
"To run like a ghost in the night, the sound of my hooves perhaps troubling the dreams of sleeping peasants."
"That would have worked more easily in a place like Mecq than here."
"Even here," Bay insisted.
Silvas went to the barrier and pressed his back against it, as before. He linked to Maria, and they repeated the spells they had used when they had stood at north and south. The bubble brightened and dimmed. Silvas mounted Bay again, and they raced back to the Glade.
Maria, Camiss, and Velvet had scarcely crossed the drawbridge when Silvas, Bay, and Satin reached it. Inside the gate, Maria dismounted. Bosc came trotting across the courtyard, reaching Maria just as the others did.
"We'll walk to the mews with you, Bosc," Maria said. "This night, I want to see Camiss to her stall."
"Aye, my lady," Bosc said, bobbing his head. "She's new to the Seven Towers."
"Even newer than I am," Maria said. Bosc did not respond to that.
"Our work isn't over yet," Silvas reminded Maria. "Even though it must be close to midnight."
"Close to or past," Bay commented. "I think a bit past."
"We have to close down the pentagram, and we have to contact Mikel," Silvas said.
"Tonight?" Maria asked. "Will we rouse him from sleep?"
"If needs be," Silvas said. "Though I fancy that Mikel will be sleeping little at present."
"I'll warn Braf," Bosc offered.
"Yes, do that," Silvas said. "It will be a short time yet before we make the attempt. He'll have time to alert his men, if they aren't already at full alert."
"He's doubled the guard, an' then some," Bosc said.
Maria unsaddled Camiss herself, and took the harness from her head, talking the whole time. She would have given the horse a rubdown also, but there was more pressing work, and Bosc had grooms ready to care for Camiss. Bosc would see to Bay himself, as he always did.
Silvas and Maria took the back way into the keep, going from the mews into the curtain wall, up through a corner tower and across to the keep. Satin and Velvet moved in front, prowling, watching for the dangers that were within their purview. The hours of the night were their primary watch. But they reached the private apartments on the second level of the keep without encountering anything more than sentries on patrol, gurnetz and human, all armed and tense. The battle for Mecq had touched the Seven Towers. The fighting had been horrifying. No one was anxious for a repeat.
There was no time for relaxation. Silvas and Maria went up to the workshop to shut down the remaining spells and deactivate the pentagram.
"I don't think I've ever been so tired in all my life," Maria said when she and Silvas left the now idle pentagram. "It seems as if this day has gone on for a week, and it isn't finished yet."
"I can recall a few times when I've felt this spent," Silvas said, "but not so many that the memories trip over each other. When Auroreus initiated me into the Greater Mysteries of the Trimagister, the ordeal lasted a full seven days and nights without rest."
They went downstairs, through the library and on to the small sitting room next to their sleeping chamber. Koshka was there with wine and the inevitable selection of fruits and cheeses. There were treats for the cats as well, over in a corner. Satin and Velvet went to it with good appetite.
"Will you be wanting baths now?" Koshka asked.
"Not yet, I'm afraid," Silvas said. "There's still work to do, and a hot bath might put us both to sleep before we're finished."
"A long night yet?"
"Yes, Koshka, perhaps both long and dangerous." Silvas took a drink of wine. It was the special alpine vintage that he and Carillia had both been so fond of. Carillia. Chance remembrance still brought pain.
Maria saw the flash of agony and touched Silvas's arm. When their eyes met, so did their minds.
I know how difficult it is for you, Maria told him. I share your pain.
Let us hope there's time to share pleasures as well. You've already experienced far more than you bargained for when first we met.
Maria was unable to stop herself. She laughed, deeply and long, bringing a flush to her face. "Far more, indeed."
"Don't keep anyone up to heat water for us, Koshka," Silvas said. "We'll make do. Perhaps we can save everyone a little work now."
Koshka nodded an acknowledgment and left.
There was work to do, but Maria and Silvas sat on the divan and spent some minutes fortifying themselves with food and wine. Both remembered what had happened earlier when they had thought to contact Mikel. Gioia had come to call on them instead. What will happen this time? was a question that did not really need the intimate merging of their minds to come to both of them.
"Are you ready?" Silvas asked finally, and Maria nodded. She set down her goblet and leaned back on the sofa, reaching out to hold Silvas's hand. The cats took up their normal positions at either end of the divan.
Making contact was easier than either expected. Together they pictured Mikel in their minds. Silvas framed a shared thought: Mikel, we need to talk. Immediately, the room in front of them changed. It was as if half of the sitting room had been sliced away, and half of a new room spliced to it. The dividing line was sharp, unmistakable. Silvas and Maria needed no explanation to know that the view in front of them was part of what passed for a "small" room in Mikel's palace. There was every evidence of reality, as if the two rooms had been physically joined. There were perfect seams.
Mikel was there, no more than six feet from them, sitting in an ebony chair inlaid with intricate designs in gold and silver. The golden chalice in his hand would easily hold a quart, and the exterior was studded with every variety of precious stone. Mikel lifted the goblet and took a long drink. His eyes were bloodshot, and he gave every indication of being thoroughly inebriated.
"We were concerned that we might disturb your sleep," Silvas said when it became clear that Mikel would not open the discussion.
"You have disturbed my drinking, and I take that far more seriously," Mikel replied, finally deigning to look more or less at his callers.
"There seems to be some urgency to this, or we would have waited for morning."
"Urgency to what?"
"When we returned from the Shining City, we found a shimmering dome covering the valley of the Seven Towers, a barrier closing it off from the surrounding countryside. The people in the village can't pass out through the veil. Outsiders not only can't pass in through it, the veil makes it appear as if the valley doesn't even exist."
"So there's a veil. What of it?"
"Whoever put it in place did not sign it, but it obviously took godly power to create that veil and make it difficult for us to manipulate it."
A slight pause was the only indication that Mikel heard anything of note in that statement. "A minor matter. I have no knowledge of who did it. It does not surprise me, though. Many of us here would as soon close you away where you could not disturb our peace any farther. The surprise is that there are so few who seem inclined toward quick action."
"I know of Barreth and Gioia. Both have made their feelings clear. Are there more as vindictive as them?"
Mikel shrugged. "At least one, perhaps three. Do not ask me to name names. I will not do that. Though you were a good servant when you were my servant, I will not betray my siblings to a deicide."
"I was merely the weapon. You and your allies were the deicides. Even by your standards I have call on your loyalty."
"You brought death to us. Those deaths will be avenged, whether I will it or not. Some of my siblings keep close accounts. You are in over your heads, but not-I suspect-for long. For me, for most of us, it would be enough to have that barrier close you away."
"It does not close us away. It is merely an inconvenience, mostly for the mortals who live in this valley. As a matter of fact, I've taken steps to strengthen the barrier."
Mikel stared at Silvas, openly appraising now.
"You think it could hold out any of us who chose to pass through it?"
"I did not say so," Silvas said.
"You think you have long memories, but you have known so little," Mikel said. "We go back to a time when these mortals, such as you used to be, had neither language nor society, when they huddled in caves like the meanest of rodents, prey rather than predator. We took those beasts and educated them, molded them over to be a reflection of us."
"Rather to reflect glory on you," Silvas suggested.
"Every people who ever came to glory in your world did so because of our favor."
"Because they gave you flattery."
"Because they realized that we made their greatness possible, not the recluses of the land above ours," Mikel said. "They care not at all for anyone but themselves."
"You and your brothers and sisters do?" Silvas did not try to hide his skepticism.
"You have so little idea of our history," Mikel said.
"More than you know," Silvas said, letting annoyance take hold of him and run free. "More than you told me yourself when you poured so much of your mind into mine. What of your parents? Where have they gone to since they disowned the lot of you?"
Mikel growled noisily and took a long drink of wine. Then he took a carafe from a table next to him, refilled the chalice, and drank again.
"Are you at all familiar with the Holy Bible that your Christians revere?" Silvas asked while Mikel was still drinking. "In the Old Testament, there is a list of ten commandments that are meant to be the guiding laws of Christian living. At least one of those commandments, so I am told, was directed more at you and your brothers and sisters than at the mortals who hold it sacred. 'Honor thy father and mother.' "
For a moment, Silvas thought that Mikel might hurl his chalice at him. Unbidden, a spell came to mind that would deflect the object harmlessly to the floor. But Mikel held his temper close enough that he did not waste his wine, or throw away its container.
"They never honored anything or anyone," he said instead, bitterness and hate in his voice. "They cared for nothing but each other. I have no idea where they might be, if they still live. Somewhere in the land above us, no doubt. I really don't care. Had they appeared while we were preparing for the recent battle, I have no doubt that we would have put aside our differences to attack them in conceit."
"Your parents bear you no hate. They're merely disappointed, and they regret that they paid so little attention to you," Silvas said. "When they tried to make amends, it was already too late."
"What do you know of our parents, bastard?" Mikel demanded.
"I've spoken with your father, not all that long ago," Silvas said. "While we were arming for Mecq."
"Unlikely," Mikel said, mountainous anger showing on his face. "He has taken no interest in us since before Babylon first ruled the world."
"However unlikely, it's true," Silvas said. "He took me to a place where my power did not work. He told me of your family, much more than you would find comfortable. And he warned me what would come from the battle we so recently fought as allies."
Silvas waited for Mikel's rage to erupt. But after long minutes of struggle, Mikel simply disappeared, with the room in which he sat. Silvas and Maria were alone with their cats.
Outside, a monumental storm erupted to batter the valley of the Seven Towers.