“Who is he?” I asked as Kerovan made an unsteady way over to join us.
“I know not,” my lord answered. “The old Knowledge awakened and seemed to act through me—I knew what must lie done to assist the one trapped within the Gate, but as to whom our guest may be…” He shrugged.
“Help me with his helm,” I directed. “Guret, bring some water and a cloth.”
Carefully we removed the man’s helm. Beneath it was truly a Dalesman’s face, hair a shade or two lighter than my own, the weathered skin of a rover, well-cut, even handsome features. The man looked to be some years older than my lord—
I gasped as my mind suddenly rearranged those features into familiar lines—this man I knew! “Jervon!” I stammered, hardly believing my own sight. “How—what—”
Three years ago, when I had first followed my lord into the Waste, just before our entry into Arvon, I had met this man. At the time he had companied with a woman of the Old Race, Elys. The three of us had traveled the Waste for many days, searching after Kerovan, for, in their kindness, Jervon and his lady had been moved to aid me. Without their help I could never have made that perilous journey that had ended so abruptly as I was dragged down into a trap dug by the Thas, those repulsive Dwellers-In-Darkness. The last sight I had seen as the earth caved away beneath me had been this man’s anguished face as he strove vainly to reach me. And now he was here, in Arvon.
“Jervon?” I saw Kerovan frown, as if trying to remember, then his eyes widened. “It cannot be! Where is Elys?”
After I had been captured by the Thas, Jervon and Elys had aided my lord in his subsequent search for me. He had told me that at one point in their journey together, his two companions had been warned back by the Power—for Elys was a Witch, and one of no small talent. The time was not right, she had said, for the two of them to walk the road leading to Arvon. Sadly, he had bade them farewell and ridden on alone. Kerovan had told me of Elys’s wistfully expressed hope that someday the way into the ancient land might be opened to them…
Carefully steadying Jervon’s head on my knee, I wet the edge of the cloth Guret brought me and wiped his face. He seemed to rouse slightly, and when I gave him to drink, his eyes opened, blinking in the light. “You are safe, Jervon,” I said quietly. “Do you remember me? I am Joisan.”
“Joisan…” His eyes widened, and I could see memory rush in.
“Where is Elys, Jervon?” my lord said, bending over so the Dalesman could see him. “I am Kerovan, remember?”
“Kerovan? Here?” His eyes wandered around the circular chamber, plainly disbelieving. “Where—”
“You are in a place of the Old Ones,” my lord said. “You came through a very ancient Gate. Do you not remember? And where is the Lady Elys?”
“Elys…” For the first time he looked to both sides, then sat up with a jerk, though I strove to hold him still. “She isn’t here?” Panic awoke. “She must be—Elys! Elys!”
The Great Hall rang with his shouts, and it took the combined strength of the three of us to hold him down, lest he run wildly through Kar Garudwyn, risking a terrible fall if he suffered a misstep too near one of the open arches.
“Jervon!” I clutched at his shoulders. “Jervon, listen. If you would find Elys, you must listen to me!”
His eyes were frantic, and for a moment I feared he might plunge into madness, so terrible was the grief I sensed. Then he sagged. “Elys did not come through the gate with you,” I said as clearly as I could. “Where did you come from? It may be that Elys was left behind, and you must return for her.”
“In the Waste,” Jervon said dully. “We were in the Waste, in a portion we had never traveled before, and we came upon a road. A strange road. My lady said there were visions there, of the ones who had withdrawn out of High Hallack so long ago.” I heard a swift indrawn breath from Kerovan. “On either side were great faces of stone carved, and then something Elys called the Great Star—”
“The road!” my lord exclaimed. “That is the road where Riwal and I first found the crystal gryphon! What happened to you there?”
“We reached the end, where the road simply ran into a solid facing of cliff, and thus ended. But Elys said that it was no true end, rather a stepping-off place for one who possessed the Power to summon and open.”
“Did she try the Gate?” I asked.
“Yes,” he made slow answer. “And I believe it opened for both of us. We were hand in hand, before that cliff, then…” He shook his head. “We were… not. In a place between, a place where we possessed no bodies, rather only our spirits had meaning. I saw, but my eyes did not comprehend. But Elys was with me! I know she was! That was the one thing I could still feel—her handclasp!”
“What happened?”
“Time was strange.” He fumbled with words, as though he could not make them serve his meaning. “It stretched forever, it seemed, and yet no time passed at all. We were being drawn toward a violet light, and I saw what seemed to be a creature. One out of legend, with the wings and foreparts of an eagle, but the hindparts and ears of a lion. A gryphon.”
“That was the Gate,” Kerovan said. “Was Elys with you still?”
“She was—but then something seemed to pass between us, and I felt her hand torn away.”
“What was this ‘something’ like?” I asked, my throat tight. If Elys had been trapped between the Gate and its portal, how could we hope to find her?
“It was…” He frowned, as though the shock had partially erased his memory. “Of the Shadow,” he decided, horror settling in his eyes as if it had always been there. “I could not see it, but it seemed to make a droning noise, and its stench…” He shook his head. “It gave off a yellowish light. Its touch was… loathsome.”
“Oh, no,” I mumbled, feeling my heart dropping within my breast, till it lay like an anchor-stone.
My lord nodded soberly at me. “I am afraid so, my lady. Can you discover aught from Sylvya?”
I hesitated, remembering well that sleep that had claimed me almost past my waking again. Then I nodded. I owed Elys a debt that I had never paid, and the people of the Dales are raised to acknowledge and repay such, even as are the Kioga. “I will try,” I said. “But you must mindlink with me this time, Kerovan, so you can aid me if I go in too deeply.”
He nodded. “Agreed.”
As Jervon watched anxiously, Guret behind him, I sat down on the dais, with my lord sitting behind me, so that I could lean back against him. His arms came up to steady me. I tried to keep my face from betraying any inner fear or disquiet as I carefully removed the Amber Lady’s amulet. Guret moved forward to take it.
Even as it left my fingers, I could feel Sylvya’s presence quest inward, seeking, and knew that she again had something she must convey. Closing my eyes, I surrendered myself to the will of that Other, but this time I went conscious of Kerovan’s presence like the support of an arm around weary shoulders.
For long moments it was dark, then the otherness swept over me, whirling me away from the here and now to… where? I was no place I had ever seen or experienced, either in my life or hers. Though I was once more within Sylvya, this time she was not reliving moments out of the far past. Instead, I knew the turmoil and utter horror of what it meant to be caught outside the bounds of Time itself, of having no physical world to surround me.
I was running—but I had no feet, no legs, and my surroundings never changed. Still, within my mind, my body was running, my blood coursing through my veins, my breath catching in lungs that burned with each breath—but I had no blood, no chest with which to draw breath!
Sruggling to calm myself, I faced these conflicting messages from a body that did not exist—and all the while, I fled from that ghastly hunt dogging my footsteps (except that I had no feet, of course). Behind me, there was a massive wave of Power, an anger that knew no bounds nor leashing, and that anger flickered yellowish, lighting this uncanny not-place with a fetid, diseased glow. That wave of powerful anger was Maleron’s manifestation here between time and worlds.