The hall shook so that Finya was thrown forward onto his face, and he feared that the palace would topple down upon him. The walls held firm, but more terrible than the earthquake was the voice he heard, the voice of a woman whose resonance turned his bones to water: “Insolent mortal,” she said. “Thinkst thou that I do not remember thee? Bitterly wilt thou regret the crime which has stained thy hand this day. This people are set beneath my curse for their pride and the depth of their wizardry, which surpassed that which it is good for mortals to know. Thou hast broken my holy curse; believe that it shall avail thee none. Thus speaks thy destiny from among the stars.” “Alas!” cried Finya; for he had offended the goddess Sarma once before and was hated by her. And he heard the ringing of bells.
There were tambourines in the streets of the city, and drums, and joyful flutes; everywhere people were singing, embracing, and dancing with wild gladness. The young sorcerer pushed through the crowds to the very edge of the city in search of the dolphin who had caused him to anger the goddess Sarma. But instead of the dolphin, a beautiful maiden was swimming in the water, clad in white garments which floated about her and mixed with her long black hair. “Help me up!” cried she. And Finya went down the steps and helped her, and she stood on the white steps of her city and wept for very joy. “Thank you, blessed enchanter,” said she. And Finya said: “Alas, good lady, why did you cause me to sin against the goddess who already hates me?” And the princess said: “Why, what did she say?” “That you are wicked sorcerers.” “Ah, no,” said the maiden: “It is she who is wicked; she hates me for my beauty.” “That I can well believe,” said Finya; for truly the damsel was exceedingly lovely, having bronze skin and black eyes and hair, and a shape to devastate nations. Indeed, he was well-nigh dazzled by her and found her more lovely than any woman he had seen, save only she who haunted his dreams. And the princess laughed and led him into the city filled with rejoicing, where all they passed bowed and did them homage. “Now you shall see,” said she, “if ours is truly a wicked city. Stay with me for one year: for I love thee.”
So Finya stayed with her in the beautiful city of wells and gardens. And she told him: “This is the city of Nine Wonders. The first wonder is our horses, which are scarlet and shine like roses. The second is our fine white hunting dogs, which can hunt at sea as well as on land. The third is our musicians, who can make men weep until they cast off all their burden of sorrow. The fourth wonder is our light, which is the most delicate in the world. The fifth is our birds, who are wise and speak like men. The sixth is our fruit: the most gratifying to the tongue, and strengthening to the body, of anything one can eat on earth. The seventh is our wine, a delight to the tongue and the heart; and the eighth is the water of our miraculous wells, so pure that it preserves us from old age, sickness and death.”
“And what is the ninth wonder?” asked Finya.
“Is nothing to be held sacred?” cried the princess with a laugh; and Finya asked that she forgive his discourtesy. “I have already forgiven thee,” she said. Indeed, she had a loveliness that could drive the very gods to envy.
Finya stayed with her for a year and enjoyed every good thing: hunting on land and at sea, and the best of music, wine, and horses. At the end of the year she asked him to stay longer, and he agreed, for he said to himself that there was only despair in his other suit. And he enjoyed the love of the princess, who bore him two fine children, the most passionate hunting of his life, and the wisdom of the birds. All things he enjoyed, save that he did not know the ninth wonder, which he thought must be the most wonderful of them all.
Now Finya still possessed the earring made from a piece of amber which had been given to him in the forest by the witch Brodlian, in which there dwelt his helper and familiar, the lubnesse, which was an owl with the sad face of a woman. Once when he was alone in the palace he rubbed at the earring, and the lubnesse appeared flapping before him. “O lubnesse,” said Finya, “I wish to know the ninth wonder.” “Art thou yet unsatisfied?” said she. “Yes,” said he: “Without this knowledge I cannot enjoy the other wonders.” “Not even thy wife,” asked the lubnesse, “and thy two children?” “Not even these,” said Finya. “Then,” said the lubnesse, “thou chosest well, when thou didst determine that thou wouldst be a wizard. Hast thou not noticed, then, that for one month out of every year, thy wife doth leave thee, taking the children with her?” “Yes,” said Finya: “She goes to the sacred mountain behind the city, for it is her custom to pray at the tomb of her father.” “That is as may be,” said the lubnesse. “When next she goes there, climb the narrow stair to the top of the palace. If her dogs fly at thee, strike at them with a sheaf of wheat, and they will not devour thee. Enter the room at the top of the stair. There will be a fire burning inside, and another thing, and this is the thing that thou must throw onto the fire. Then indeed shalt thou discover the ninth wonder of the city.” “May I perish,” said Finya, “if I do not so.”
Soon enough the time came when the princess wrapped herself in a cloak and said: “I go to pray at the tomb of my father. Let the children come with me, that they may learn our custom.” “Very well,” said Finya; and they parted. Then Finya went up the narrow stair which led to the top of the palace, a dark and dusty stair which seemed in disuse; great dogs rushed at him, barking and snarling with foam on their jaws, but he struck them with a sheaf of wheat and they lay down and whined. At the top of the stairs he opened a door and entered a small and dirty room where a fire smoked foully in the grate. On the table was something long and black. He picked it up and held it; and it was the long black hair of his beautiful wife.
“Alas,” cried Finya, “what is this?” And he threw the hair on the fire. Then a great hush fell on the City of Nine Wonders: the music, the laughter, the footsteps, all ceased, and the only sound to be heard was that of a single voice weeping and lamenting.
Finya rushed down the stairs and out of the palace into the street, and the city was as it had been when he had first seen it: vast, empty, graceful, abandoned even by the mice. And again the chains moaned in the deserted wells. He followed the sound of weeping, and it led him to the sea; and there he saw the beautiful white dolphin, and with her two dolphin pups. And she cried: “Alas, my husband, what hast thou done?” And she wept bitter tears.
Finya, wild with grief, ran down the white steps to the sea. “Who art thou?” he cried. “Who art thou?”
“Alas,” said she, “I am the ninth wonder of the City of Nine Wonders.”
And she swam with her children out to sea, and was lost.
An owl gave a low, flute-like call from somewhere in the garden. For a moment I thought the High Priest was looking at me, but the light of the oil lamp writhed like a sea worm, casting wayward shadows, and his pensive gaze was impossible to trace. Miros and the others applauded, congratulating Kovyan’s sister, exchanging remarks on the poignancy of the tale. Auram leaned and clasped my arm. “From memory!” he hissed in triumph. “All that from memory. She cannot read a word.”
I rose, pleading exhaustion, and one of the young men led me into a dark bedchamber. The only light seeped in from the other room. Don’t worry, I told myself. Only survive, survive until they bring the body to you and it crumbles on the fire. Flames grew in my mind, great bonfires, suns. The young man slapped the bed, checking it for stability or snakes. He left me, and as I sat down and pulled off my boots I heard the priest’s voice clearly from the other room: “Yes, a Night Market.”