“Man abides,” he repeated. “Here—man abides!” And he threw up his head, looked to Hilarion as if he taunted his captive with that, dared him to deny his saying.
The silver wires which had stood so erect and had rippled with force and energy now hung limp, with no life at all, about the pillar providing a thin veil for the prisoner within. And if Hilarion had any way to answer he did not.
For the first time a new thought crossed my mind. How was it that I so understood Zandur’s speech? It was certainly not the tongue of the Old Race, even modified and changed as it was in Escore. Nor did it resemble that of the Sulcarmen. Why should it? This was another world—unless Zandur, too, was one who had passed through a gate.
Then it came to me that this was some magic of the machines. They must pick up the words he said, then translate them for us. The machines—what could they not do? I had been momentarily shaken from my plan by what happened here, but now I turned to it. The energy of the machines was linked to Hilarion. My need of it—
But time—I needed time! Zandur moved away from the dais, coming toward me. Luckily I had not altered my position. If I could deceive him into believing me still sleeping . . . even so small a deception should be to my advantage.
I closed my eyes. With most of the thrumming lights stilled I could hear the sound of footfalls drawing closer.
Was he standing now to stare at me? Though I did not look to see, I thought that he was, and I waited tensely for some word to tell me that this was the end of what small freedom I still possessed.
But he did not speak, and, a moment later, I heard footfalls again, this time receding. I counted fifty under my breath, and then another fifty to make sure. When I opened my eyes it was to find him gone. A single gray man sat at one bank of buttons, the screen before him alive. But, left to right, all others had been shut down. And, save for Ayllia, the prisoner in the pillar and myself, there was no one else in the chamber I could see.
Hilarion—no! To mind touch him with purpose would be to bring the very recognition I must be most careful to avoid. However, I did not quite know how to go about my search, except to conduct it as the mind quests which had once linked me with Kyllan and Kemoc when we were at a distance from one another.
There are bands of communication which perhaps one can best visualize as bright ribbons laid horizontally edge to edge. To touch these is indeed a kind of search. My brother Kyllan had always been able to find those of animals and use them; but I had never sought any save the bands best known to those of my own craft.
Now I must range higher or lower and to do so took time, which perhaps I could ill spare. For the sake of a beginning point I chose the old one so well known to me, my brothers’.
I do not think I cried out. If I did the gray man at the one live bank of buttons did not turn his head to show that the cry alerted him. I had touched for an instant so clear and loud a call that I was shocked into relinquishing touch, even as I had when Hilarion’s mind had earlier met mine.
Kyllan? Kemoc? Once before Kemoc had followed me into the terrors of an unknown world, far more alien to those of our heritage than this one. Had he been drawn after me again?
“Kemoc,” I called.
“You—who are you?” The demand was so sharp that it rang in my head as loudly as if the words had been shouted in my ears, deafening my mind for an instant the way my ears could be dulled.
“Kaththea,” I answered with the truth before I thought. “Kemoc—is that you?” and a part of me wanted yes, a part of me feared it. For, I thought, to have the burden for his safety laid on me once more was more than I could bear.
I was not answered now in words, rather did I seem to look, as through a window, into a room with rock walls, gloomy and dark. There was a stone bowl set on a pedestal. In that bowl blazed a handful of coals, giving limited light to that portion of the chamber immediately about it. Standing in that light was a woman. She wore the riding dress of the Old Race, breeches and jerkin of dark, dull green, and her hair was braided and netted tight to her head. At first I could not see her face: it was turned from me as she looked down into the fire. Then she turned around as if she could look through that window at me.
I saw her eyes widen, but her surprise could be no greater than mine.
“Jaelithe!”
My mother! But how—where? Years lay between our last meeting, when she had ridden forth to seek my father, vanished apparently from the sea. She had searched for him by a trail of magic in which all three of us had played a part, the first time we had been drawn into a formal use of our gift.
Time had not touched her; she was the same then as now, though I was a woman and not the girl child. But I saw that she was not confused by the change, but knew me.
“Kaththea!” She took a step toward me, away from the brazier, lifted her hands as if across that strange space between us we might touch fingers. Then her face took on an urgent expression and she asked quickly: “Where are you?”
“I do not know. I came through a gate—”
She made a gesture with her raised hand as if to wave away unimportant things. “Yes. But now describe where you are!”
I did so, making as short a tale as I could. When I was done she gave a sigh which might be half of relief. “So much it is to the good; we are in the same world at least. But now—you searched with thought for us?”
“No, I did not know you were here.” And I went on to tell her what I must do.
“An adept who wrought a gate kept prisoner!” She looked thoughtful. “It would seem, my daughter, that you have stumbled by chance on that which may save us all. And your plan of using the girl, that is well reasoned. But that you need help from outside is also true. And we shall see what can be done. Simon,” she called with her mind, “come quickly!” Then she turned her full attention to me again. “Let me see this girl through your eyes—the room as well. . . .”
And I did for her what I would not do for Hilarion; I surrendered my will so that her mind linked fast to mine and I knew she viewed all I saw. I turned my head slowly from side to side for her benefit.
“Are these Kolder?” I asked.
“No. But there is a likeness. I think that this world was once close to the Kolder and something of their Power spread to the other. But that is of no consequence now. I know where lies the entrance to the burrow in which you are. We shall come to you with what speed we can. Until then, unless you are in great need, do not link. But if this Zandur would work on you, as he has upon Hilarion, link at once.”
“Ayllia?”
“You have read rightly that she may be your key to freedom. But again we cannot use her as yet, not if we are to have time. Above all, the adept is necessary. He knows the gate; it was of his creation and will answer him. If we are ever to return to Estcarp we must have that gate!”
Suddenly she smiled. “Time seems to have run more swiftly for you, my daughter, than it has for us. Also, I appear to have borne one who is as I wished for, a child of my spirit as well as my body. Take you care, Kaththea, not to throw away now, by some chance, that which will work to save us all. Now I will break link, but you shall be in mind and if you have need, call at once!”
The window into that place of stone was gone. And I was left to wonder—how had my mother and father come here? For she had spoken to him as if he were some distance from her but no world away. Had he stumbled on another gate into this world, she following him thereafter? If so, it would seem that portal had been closed to their return.