Thiye is dead, he said.
Her gray eyes cast back an unexpected look of agony. Your doing?
No. Rohs.
Not Rohs, she said. Thiye freed methat being his only hope of defeating Liell and keeping his life. He gave me this slim chance. I would have saved his life if I could. Is Roh down there?
He ran, said Vanye, saying you meant to destroy this place. Horrid suspicion came over him. It was not Roh, was it?
No, said Morgaine. Roh died at Ivrel, in your place.
And she raced then down the stairs, pausing only to be careful at the turning, and came into that dread hall of qujalin design.
It was empty, save for Thiyes sprawled corpse in a widening pool of blood.
Morgaine ran, her footsteps echoing upon the floor, and Vanye followed, knowing that Erij was still with them, and little caring at the time. Anger seethed in him for Liells mocking treachery with him; and dread was in him too for what Morgaine might intend with these strange powers.
She reached the very end of the hall, where there rose a vast double pillar of lights, and her hand abandoned the sword upon the counter an instant, while she wove a sure, practiced pattern among the lights. Noise thundered from the walls, voices gibbered ghostlike in unknown languages. Lights flared up and down the pillars, and began to pulse in increasing agitation.
She made it all cease, as quick as a move of her hand, and leaned against the counter, head bowed, like one who had suffered some mortal blow.
Then she turned and lifted her head, her eyes fixed earnestly on Vanyes.
You and your brother must quit this place as quickly as you can, she said. Liell spoke the truth in one thing: it will be destroyed. The machine is locked in such a way I cannot free it, and Ra-hjemur will be rubble in the time a rider could reach Ivrel. You are free of your oath. You have paid it all. Good-bye.
And with that she brushed past him and walked quickly down the long aisle alone, headed for the stairs.
Liyo! he cried, stopping her. Where are you going?
He has locked the Gate open on a place of his choosing, and I am going after him. I have not much time: he has a good start on me, and surely he has allowed only what he thinks enough time for himself. But he is timid, this Lielclass="underline" I am hoping that he has given himself too much grace, too much margin.
And with that she turned again, and began to walk and more quickly, and at last to run.
Vanye started forward a pace. Brother, Erij reminded him. He stopped. She vanished down the stairs.
When the last sound of her footsteps was gone he turned again, of necessity, to face the anger in his brothers face. He went down upon the chill floor and pressed his forehead to it, making the obeisance his oath made due Erij.
Your humility is a little late, said Erij. Get up. I like to see your eyes when you answer questions.
He did so.
Did she tell the truth? Erij asked then.
Yes, said Vanye. I think it was the truth. Or if you doubt it, at least doubt it from a days-ride distance from here. If you see it still standing after that, then it was not the truth.
What is this of Gates?
I do not know, he said, only that sometimes there is another side to the Witchfires and sometimes not, and that once she goes, she will be nowhere we can reach. I am sorry. It was not a thing she explained clearly. But she will not be back. Ivrel is a Gate that will close when this place dies, and after that there will be no more Witchfires, no more Thiyes, no more magics in the world.
He looked around him at the place, for that complexity was like the living inside of some great beast, though its veins were conduits of lights and its heart and pulse glowed and faded slowly.
If you do not want to die, Erij, he said, I suggest we take her advice and be as far from here as possible when it happens.
The horses were where they had left them, patiently waiting in the gray dawn, cropping the sparse grass as if there were nothing unusual in the day. Vanye checked the girths and heaved himself up, and Erij did the same. They rode the open and faster road this time, pausing for a view of the great cube of Ra-hjemur, which looked, with its breached gate, like a creature with a mortal wound.
Then they set out together for Morija.
There is no more lord of Hjemur, said Vanye at last You and Baien are all the clan-lords left of any stature at all. It is within your reach to gain the High Kingship without Hjemurn magics after all, and perhaps that will be better for human folk.
Baiens lord is old, said Erij, and has a daughter. I do not think that he will want a war to cloud his old age and ruin his land. I will perhaps be able to make an alliance with him. And Chya Roh left no heirs. His people will be less trouble to us. Pyvens lady is Chya, and with Chya in Koris in our hands, Pyven will submit. Erij sounded almost cheerful, counting his prospects and reckoning lightly of a few wars.
But Vanye gazed to the road ahead, where it wound out of sight and into view again toward the south, hoping earnestly to see her, seeing her in his mind, at least, as she had ridden that evening out of Aenor-Pyvens Gate.
You are not listening, Erij accused him.
Aye, he said, bunking and breaking the spell, and looking again toward Erij.
And ever and again after that, he saw Erij look curiously at him, and there was a growing sourness on Erijs face, as if whatever alliance there had been to make them brothers this dawn in Ra-hjemur were fast shredding asunder. He held out little hope for his peace as he saw that sullen estimation grow more and more grim.
There is none of the high-clan blood in Morija left, but us, said Erij that noon, when the sun was almost warm, and they rode still knee to knee.
Oh Heaven, Vanye thought, looking out upon the sunlight and the hills with regret, now it comes; for he had long since come to the conclusion he was sure would occur to Erij: that, enemies as they were, Erij was mad to flaunt a high-clan prisoner in Morija. Without Ra-hjemur from which to rule, he had not power enough to bear a taint of dishonoror a rival. Politics and ambitions would swarm about a bastard Chya like flies to honey. Such conclusions as Erij had no doubt reached were dishonorable, better meditated in the dark of night than in such a fair day.
Bastard that you are, said Erij, you could make yourself a threat to me, if you were minded to do so. There is no lord in Chya. It comes to me, bastard brother, that you are heir to Chya, if you were to claim it, and that no lord can be claimed as ilin.
I have not laid any claim to Chya, said Vanye. I do not think I could, and I do not intend to.
They had rather own you than me, I do not doubt it at all, said Erij. And you are still the most dangerous man to me in all of Andur-Kursh, so long as you live.
I am not, said Vanye, because I regard my oath. But you do not regard your own honor enough to trust mine.
You did not regard your oath in Ra-hjemur.
You were not in danger from Morgaine. I did not have to.
Erij gazed long at him, then reached across. Give me your hand, he said, and Vanye, puzzling, yielded it to his left-handed handclasp. His brother pressed it in almost friendly fashion.
Leave, said Erij. If I hear of you after this I will hunt you down ... or if you come to Morija, I will set Claim on you and let you work off that year you owe me. But I do not think you will come to Morija.
And he gestured with a nod to the road ahead.
If she will have yougo.
Vanye stared at him, then gripped his brothers strong, dry hand the more tightly before he broke the clasp.