‘Hellorin?’
‘Don’t think so - at least not entirely. There’s something new here: something strange and very powerful. Ignore the sea. Search beyond the wind. Can’t you feel it?’ She swore again. ‘Plague take it! I thought this world was the home of the Old Magic. Everybody knows that the Old Magic can’t cross water. I thought we’d be safe out here.’
‘Maybe it’s different in this world, where the whole place is founded on Old Magic.’
Though the sea and wind were growing more turbulent by the moment, the sky had remained blue, and unnaturally clear. But now they saw a great black barrier of cloud bearing down on them from the north, against the wind. Brows drawn down in a scowl of concentration, Iriana was muttering under her breath, reaching for focus. Then suddenly she raised a hand, and Corisand felt the alien, Wizardly magic go streaming past her, and up into the sky. With a jerk, the boat heeled over as the wind veered abruptly, blowing them towards the nearest scrap of land - that peculiar rock formation that the Windeye had seen in her mirror of vision, when it had brought her this way.
Iriana, trembling with the strain of her spell, said, ‘Whatever that thing is, we’d best not meet it on the open ocean.’
‘But what is it?’ the Windeye wondered. ‘Somehow this doesn’t have the stamp of Hellorin. Could the Moldan threaten us from this distance? Taku said he never left his mountain. Surely his reach, then, could not be so long?’
‘Don’t forget he has the Fialan.’ In this time of crisis, Iriana seemed to be picking up the thoughts directly from her mind.
‘Then how will we ever get near him, if his reach is so long and he’s already aware that we’re coming?’ Corisand ducked another wave, and cursed herself for sounding so feeble.
‘It’s not your fault.’ Again, the Wizard was replying to her unspoken thoughts as she drove the boat into the waves. ‘You’ve spent all your life as a horse - a prey animal. You have a naturally ingrained instinct for flight, rather than fight. But you’re not equine any more, my friend. Now you can think differently. Once you’re aware of the horse, you can override that instinct, and be the Windeye.’
There was no time for a reply. The sinister black barrier was almost upon them, and the gale had increased to screaming pitch. It would be a desperate race to reach the island in time. Suddenly, what looked like a long, black serpent dropped out of the bottom of the cloud bank, twisting and snaking down into the water. It formed a slim, sinister funnel shape that joined the ocean to the sky.
‘A waterspout,’ Iriana gasped. ‘If that thing reaches us we’ll be torn to pieces.’ With her teeth clenched and fire in her eyes, she steered the boat as straight as she could, up the slopes of the gargantuan green waves, through the welter of white water on the crests and down the other side, heading for the tiny slip of land with its tower of rock. Just before it hit the narrow beach, Corisand dissolved the little craft and formed a gentle ramp of air, down which they rolled and tumbled to dry land.
The waterspout was gaining on them, a ravening black monster that covered half the sky. Fierce winds tore at them, and rocks and gravel flew at them as if propelled by slingshots. ‘Quick!’ Grabbing hold of Iriana’s arm, Corisand pulled her to her feet and they hurried across the shingle towards the cave. As they hurled themselves inside, she felt a slight pressure against her skin, as though she had hit an invisible barrier - then she was through, and safe inside with Iriana at her heels.
The screaming of the tempest diminished. The Windeye, utterly stunned, took in her surroundings at a glance. Instead of the dark, dank sea cave she had expected, she and Iriana stood in a kingly hall. Its walls of dark stone scintillated with a galaxy of tiny specks of mica that caught and reflected the light from numerous floating globes, filled with what appeared to be captive moonlight. A great fire roared and crackled in a circular pit in the centre of the chamber, its smoke lost in the shadows far above.
Suddenly a great voice came rolling and echoing through the hall. ‘Well, see what the wind has blown in. It is many a long age since visitors have come here.’
Corisand started. She knew that voice: deep and reverberant enough to make the very bones of the earth vibrate, with a grinding, growling undertone that sounded like the movement of entire mountains. She had heard it when her mirror-borne vision had taken her to this place. ‘Basileus?’ Her own voice came out like the whistle of a bird in comparison to the ponderous, mighty tones.
‘Basileus indeed,’ the entity answered. ‘So, you have come to me in corporeal form, as I asked when last we met. That was bravely done, O Windeye. As you may have guessed, I am another Moldan. I am this rock, and this rock is me - in this world, at least. I—’
He was interrupted by a howl of rage. From outside, in the wild keening of the storm, another voice was heard: cold as the fierce, white, searing core of winter, and this time, somehow female. ‘Give me the Windeye and her Wizard companion. Give them to me now. They shall not have the Fialan - it will be mine.’
Basileus ignored the voice; ignored the keening of the gale and the crashing of the mighty waves that shook the tower. ‘Ah. Now I understand. You have no need to tell me, my friends, why you seek the Stone of Fate. I can see the reasons written clearly in your minds. You play a dangerous game, in seeking to pit yourselves against both Ghabal and Hellorin - and now my sibling, Aerillia, has decided to interfere on her own behalf.’
‘Is that who is outside?’ Iriana asked. ‘The one who made the storm?’
‘It is not only Aerillia, for she has allied herself with Hellorin, the Forest Lord - indeed, it was she who brought him here. She, too, wishes to gain the Fialan, so that the Moldai may once again dwell in both worlds, instead of just the Elsewhere.’
‘And you?’ Corisand asked quietly. ‘Where do you stand, sir? Do you not want the Stone of Fate?’
‘I would like to see your world again,’ the Moldan mused. ‘And had I wished, I could have used your ignorance to my advantage - but that is not my way. For my part, you are more than welcome to take the Fialan from the Elsewhere. Ghabal is a most unsafe guardian, and if it falls into other hands, there will be treachery and warfare here. Your world can have it - and all the problems it will bring in its wake. I know you have your reasons for wanting it. I only hope you know exactly what you are about.
‘Be that as it may, I will help you now, my friends. Aerillia and her pawn will learn the penalty for assailing me.’
‘Aerillia!’ His roar was loud enough to bring the companions to their knees. ‘The Windeye and the Wizard are mine to protect. Get you gone from here, you and the Phaerie Lord, or woe betide you.’
‘My brother.’ Aerillia’s voice turned sly and cajoling. ‘Surely you can see the danger in what they are trying to do? If they try to take the Fialan they are certain to fail, puny creatures that they are, but they will awaken the wrath of our poor, mad sibling. With the power that he wields, who knows what damage he will cause to the fabric of this world?’
‘And who knows what damage your Phaerie lapdog might cause if he gains the Stone, as you so clearly intend. I say again, Aerillia: get you gone from here and do not interfere with me and mine again, lest it turn to your undoing. You cannot have the Windeye and her friend.’
‘Then I will take them!’ Once more, her voice became the savage snarling of the storm, and Corisand saw, as if through the eyes of Basileus, the havoc that she wrought. Mighty winds smote the pillar of rock like hammer blows, tearing at the shaggy trees and bushes that clung to its steep sides. The sea rose up in mountainous waves that crashed down on the ancient bastion of stone.
Basileus sighed. ‘She never learns. She could never best me on her own, but because she has coupled her power with that of Hellorin, she believes herself invincible. She forgets that I can do the same.’