The mage spoke with a hint of pride, which Goldmoon found amusing, though she kindly did not allow her amusement to show. It was the pride of ownership, as if the ruins belonged to Zebulah and he had arranged to display them for the public’s enjoyment.
“But you are human. You are not a sea elf. How did you come to live here?” Goldmoon asked.
The magic-user smiled, his eyes looking back across the years. “I was young and greedy,” he said softly, “always in hopes of finding a quick way to make my fortune. My magic arts took me down into the depths of the ocean, searching for the lost wealth of Istar. I found riches all right, but not gold or silver.
“One evening I saw Apoletta, swimming among the sea forests. I saw her before she saw me, before she could change her shape. I fell in love with her… and long I worked to make her mine. She could not live up above and, after I had existed so long in the peace and tranquil beauty down here, I knew I no longer had a life in the world above either. But I enjoy talking to your kind occasionally, so I wander among the ruins now and then, to see who the elves have brought in.”
Goldmoon looked around the ruins as Zebulah paused to catch his breath between stories. “Where is the fabled temple of the Kingpriest?” she asked.
A shadow passed over the mage’s face. The look of pleasure he had worn was replaced by an expression of deep sorrow tinged with anger.
“I’m sorry,” Goldmoon said quickly. “I did not mean to cause you pain…”
“No, it’s all right,” Zebulah said with a brief, sad smile. “In fact, it is good for me to remember the darkness of that dreadful time. I tend to forget-in my daily ramblings here-that this used to be a city of laughing, crying, living, and breathing beings. Children played in these streets-they were playing that terrible evening when the gods cast the fiery mountain down.”
He was silent for a moment then, with a sigh, continued.
“You ask where the temple stands. It stands no longer. In the place where the Kingpriest stood, shouting his arrogant demands to the gods, there is a dark pit. Although it is filled with seawater, nothing lives within it. None know its depth, for the sea elves will not venture near it. I have looked into its dark, still waters as long as I could bear the terror, and I do not believe there is an end to its darkness. It is as deep as the heart of evil itself.”
Zebulah stopped in one of the sea-dark streets and peered at Goldmoon intently. “The guilty were punished. But why the innocent? Why did they have to suffer? You wear the medallion of Mishakal the Healer. Do you understand? Did the goddess explain it to you?”
Goldmoon hesitated, startled by the question, searching within her soul for the answer. Riverwind stood beside her, stern and silent as always, his thoughts hidden.
“Often I myself have questioned,” Goldmoon faltered. Moving nearer Riverwind, she touched his arm with her hand as though to reassure herself he was near. “In a dream, once, I was punished for my questioning, for my lack of faith. Punished by losing the one I love.” Riverwind put his strong arm around her and held her close. “But whenever I feel ashamed of my questioning, I am reminded that it was my questioning that led me to find the ancient gods.”
She was silent a moment. Riverwind stroked her silver-gold hair and she glanced up at him with a smile. “No,” she said softly to Zebulah, “I do not have the answer to this great riddle. I still question. I still burn with anger when I see the innocent suffer and the guilty rewarded. But I know now that my anger can be as a forging fire. In its heat, the raw lump of iron that is my spirit is tempered and shaped to form the shining rod of steel that is my faith. That rod supports my weak flesh.”
Zebulah studied Goldmoon silently as she stood amid the ruins of Istar, her silver-golden hair shining like the sunlight that would never touch the crushed buildings. The classic beauty of her face was marked by the effects of the dark roads she had traveled. Far from marring that beauty, the lines of suffering and despair had refined it. There was wisdom in her eyes, enhanced now by the great joy that came from the knowledge of the new life she carried within her body.
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