The Hidden City

‘How can you be so calm?’

‘You get numb after awhile,’ Sparhawk laughed wryly.

It was perhaps a quarter of an hour later when they crested the top of that long hill and looked down at the town of Dirgis – where the sun was shining brightly.

‘That’s incredible!’ Itagne exclaimed. Then he turned to look back down the trail they had just climbed, and his eyes suddenly went very wide.

‘I asked you not to do that, Itagne,’ Aphrael reminded him.

‘It’s still snowing there,’ he choked, ‘but –’ He stared at the sun-drenched snow-field just ahead again.

‘Why do people always want to stop right there?’ the little girl said irritably. ‘Just move along, Itagne. Once you’ve passed the crossover between the two places, it won’t bother you any more.’

Itagne resolutely set his face forward and rode on into the bright sunlight. ‘Did you understand that, Sparhawk?’ he asked in a strained voice.

‘Sort of. Do you really want to hear about what happens to you when you step through the place where two hundred miles have just been abolished?’

Itagne shuddered.

They rode on down the hill and entered the city.

‘How much further?’ Vanion demanded.

‘Just a little ways,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘It’s not all that big a town.’

They rode through the narrow streets where the snow lay thickly piled against the sides of the buildings. They reached the inn, rode into the courtyard just behind it, and dismounted.

‘Everything’s been fixed now, Betuana,’ Aphrael was assuring the Atan Queen. ‘I’m keeping him in a deep sleep so that everything has a chance to knit back together again.’

‘Who’s watching over him? Perhaps I should go there.’

‘No, Betuana,’ Aphrael said firmly. ‘I don’t have permission to take you there – yet.’

‘But he’s alone.’

‘Of course he’s not alone. I’m right there beside him.’

‘But –’ Betuana stared at the little girl.

‘Try not to think about it.’ The Child Goddess pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘Engessa-Atan’s a deceptive man, you know – probably because he’s so quiet. I didn’t realize how remarkable he really is until I got into his mind.’

‘I have always known,’ Betuana said. ‘How long will it be necessary to keep him away from me – us?’

Aphrael let the Queen’s slip pass without comment. ‘A few weeks. I want to be sure that everything’s healed. Let’s go on inside before Vanion has apoplexy.’

Sparhawk led them into the inn, where the innkeeper seemed to be so engrossed in wiping off a table that he was totally oblivious to anything else. They went up the stairs, and Sparhawk was startled to see Mirtai standing guard at Sephrenia’s door. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked her. I thought you were back in Matherion.’

‘I’ve been lent out,’ she replied, ‘like an old cloak.’

‘You know that’s not true, Mirtai,’ Aphrael said. ‘Danae’s perfectly safe where she is, but I needed someone I could count on to guard Sephrenia. Let’s go inside.’

Sephrenia was sitting up in bed when they entered, and Xanetia was hovering protectively over her. The room was flooded with sunlight.

Vanion went directly to the woman he loved, knelt at her bedside, and gently put his arms around her. ‘I’m never going to let you out of my sight again,’ he told her in a thick voice.

Sephrenia took his face between her hands and kissed him.

‘You’ll hurt yourself.’

‘Hush Vanion,’ she told him, embracing his head and holding his face fiercely against her body.

Aphrael’s huge eyes were luminous with tears. Then she seemed to shake off her sudden emotion. ‘Let’s get started,’ she said crisply. ‘A great deal has happened since the last time we were all together like this.’

‘And all of it bad,’ Itagne added in a gloomy voice.

‘Not entirely,’ she said. ‘The worst of it is that Klæl ambushed the Church Knights in the mountains of Zemoch. He had those strange soldiers with him, and our friends lost almost half their number in killed and wounded.’

‘Good God!’ Itagne groaned.

Since Sparhawk already knew the details of recent events, he decided to clear up the mystery of Klæl’s soldiers once and for all. He touched his fingertips to the bulge under his tunic. ‘Blue Rose,’ he said in the silence of his mind.

‘I hear thee, Anakha.’

‘Our friends have encountered Klæl again. He hath brought warriors here from some other place.’

‘It was not unexpected. Klæl is unsuited to direct engagement with humans by reason of his size.’

‘We are like mice in his eyes?’ Sparhawk surmised.

‘Thou dost wrong thyself, Anakha.’

‘Perhaps. These soldiers are not of this world, methinks. Their blood is yellow and their faces are much like Klæl’s face.’

‘Ah,’ the voice said. ‘Thou wilt recall that I once told thee that it is customary for Klæl and me to contest with each other for possession of the various worlds I have caused to be?’

‘Yes.’

‘It pains me to admit this, Anakha, but I have not always prevailed in these contests. Klæl hath wrested some of my worlds from me. It is from one of those worlds – Arcera would be my surmise – that he hath brought these creatures which thou and thy companions have met.’

‘They are fearsome, Blue Rose, but not invincible. We have noted some evidence of distress in them during prolonged sojourns here.’

‘I would be surprised hadst thou not. The air of Arcera would sear thy lungs shouldst thou take but one breath of it. The air of this world is so sweet and wholesome that it may be most simply assimilated by thy kind and other creatures here. The creatures of Arcera are not so fortunate. Their means of assimilating the noxious miasmas of their home are far more complex than thy simple means of suspiration. Moreover, that which would be lethal to thee hath become necessary for them. I am certain that they find thine air thin and unsatisfying by comparison.’

‘And deadly?’ Sparhawk pressed.

‘In time, most certainly.’

‘Wouldst thou venture a surmise as to how much time it might take our air to kill them?’