Black Jade

'And you believe that engendering speech,' Master Juwain said to Master Okuth, 'is it merely a matter of opening the girl this way?'

'It is indeed more complicated than that,' Master Okuth told us. 'Much more complicated. But let us just say that the power of the seven Openers projects through sound and resonates with the secret music that inheres in all things.'

Kane scowled at this, and looked at me. I knew that my savage friend hated it when the Brothers spoke so esoterically.

'You have my promise,' Abrasax assured us, 'that this test will leave Estrella unharmed. But will she consent to it?'

Estrella looked at him with complete trust. Then she quickly nodded her head.

'Good,' Abrasax said. 'Then why don't we begin?'

He held his hand, cupping his clear gelstei, out toward Estrella. The other Masters did likewise with their crystals. Estrella sat very straight and still, not knowing what to expect. She seemed at once curious and bemused by the powers of these seven old men and their mysterious crystals.

As we all waited, breathing deeply, the seven Openers began to luminesce. I sensed, rather than saw, the seven wheels of light along Estrella's spine scintillating in response to the gelstei's touch. The red of the First, Master Matai's stone, seemed to give its fire to Estrella's lowest chakra even as something deep inside Estrella called out to it. And this calling we all heard as a single, clear, plangent note. It played back and forth between Estrella and the gelstei. The other Masters with their stones likewise opened Estrella's other chakras, and a beautiful music poured out into the chamber's cool air. I could almost see the colors of this music. Master Storr's gleaming purple stone, I thought, struck deep chords with some secret organ of speech within Estrella's head. Master Yasul's gelstei, the Fifth, as blue as a sapphire, blazed more brightly than did any of the others. It seemed to summon a bright song from within Estrella's throat. Without warning, she began laughing out loud: a delightful sound like the tinkling of bells. And then her mouth opened as perfectly formed words began pouring from her lips like a silver stream:

'I've wanted to talk so badly, to tell you things, Val Maram Atara, everyone, to tell you everything, and now there is all the time in the world, but so little time. Now, I can speak again, and that's a miracle but it won't last because nothing does and yet everything. .'

She continued chattering on in a like way as we all sat listening in amazement. Her voice was sweet, passionate and perfectly clear It flowed with a musical quality, bright as the notes of a flute. It partook of Atara's diction and phrasing, and Liljana's, too, as if she patterned her speech after that of these two women whom she adored. And yet, this torrent of sound fairly soared with a wild joy that was all her own. It seemed that she wanted to cram the entire world into a few, quick, rushing breaths:

'. it's all so beautiful, and I'm so grateful, Val — Val, Val, Val! — so grateful to you for saving my life. For life. I've wanted so badly to sing with you, and Kane, our bright, bloody, beautiful Kane, and all of you, to sing and laugh: to laugh at Maram and his silly, stupid, wonderful jokes. To weep with Atara. No eyes, no tears, no hope, it seems, but love — love, love, love! There is so much to say. But so little, really, only one thing, and I should be glad I can speak again, almost as I did inside, not in words but in a kind of music that gives birth to words. Do you know what I mean? It's like the singing of the birds: so pretty, so pure, so here. . and now, and yet always and forever. This beautiful, beautiful thing — it sings me! I am so happy! And so I can't help singing, too, to the birds and the sky and the world, and everything sings back, in rubies and rainbows, in songs to the sun, and sometimes even in silence. The silence. It's pulling me back, soon, too soon, but don't feel sorry for me, please! These fires that the old men's gelstei lit inside me flare like little suns, but soon they will fade, I can feel it, quickly burning out but never quite out. Because it always blazes, even in dark things: black gelstei and burnt crosses and hate. Val! — even in the dead! In your father and mother, and mine, wherever they are, because no one is ever really dead and there is a light that always shines, the light, the light, the light. .'

As the candles' flames cast dancing shadows on the room's graven walls, we all sat regarding Estrella. At last, she seemed to run out of things to say. She sat peacefully on her cushion with her fingers laced together. I could not tell if she had fallen quiet for a moment or had returned to the deeper silence of the mute. And then Abrasax nodded his head and said to her. 'That was remarkable.'

'Yes, remarkable,' Master Storr agreed. But his voice swelled with a patronizing tone, and he seemed to regard Estrella as if she might be simpleminded. He said to her, 'I'm sure that we were all touched by your.. enthusiasm. But I'm not sure that any of our questions has been answered.'

'But you haven't asked me any questions yet!' she said to him. She smiled at him, and then laughed softly, and I felt her voice box vibrating like the strings of a mandolet.

'You must know, child, what we wish to know.'

Estrella looked at the Brotherhood's seven masters, who studied her every expression. She said, 'I think you want to know everything.'

Even the sour, serious Master Storr smiled at this. 'No, not everything — at least not tonight. But we would like to learn more concerning the Maitreya. Can you not tell us anything about him?'

'But I already did!'

Master Storr rubbed at his eyes and stared at her. 'To speak once again after so long a silence must be a strain on you. On your throat, on your lungs … even on your mind. I'm not sure that we all understood what you said.'

Her response to this was to smile at him as if she felt very sorry for his inability to apprehend the most simple of things.

'And so,' Master Storr continued, as his face reddened, 'we still have questions that we would — '

'But why don't you just ask them, then?'

Master Storr drew in a long breath as he squeezed his fingers around his purple crystal. And he said to Estrella: 'You are a seard — this seems beyond any doubt. But how is it that a seard can recognize the Maitreya?'

'How should I know,' she said, 'since I haven't recognized him yet?'

'But you must have some idea!'

Estrella brushed back the dark curls from around her eyes and glanced at Abrasax. 'How do you recognize the Grandfather when you meet him walking down a path?'

'But I know him! I've known him, now, for nearly fifty years!'

'I've known the Shining One for fifty thousand years. As long as the stars have shined. Really, forever.'

Master Storr waved his hand in the air, and shook his head. He seemed to give up hope of understanding anything that she told him.

And then Master Matai steered the questioning along a different tack as he asked her, 'Can you tell me where you were born, and when?'

'I'm sorry, but I don't remember. Perhaps it was in the Dark City.'

'In Argattha? But didn't anyone ever tell you how old you are?'

'No, I don't think they did. Does it matter?' 'It might help in corroborating the Maitreya's horoscope.' 'But if you've drawn up his horoscope, you already know how old he is and where he was born!'

Now it was Master Matai's turn to throw up his hand in frustration.

Then Abrasax said to her, 'Estrella, do you have any idea where the Maitreya might be found?'