"Ciredor's wards…" he whispered, tired from his efforts.
"You and Fannah stay here. I'll go to the top," she told him.
He grabbed her hand and said, "I don't think he's here. I think he simply didn't need anything in this tower, or didn't want anything disturbed. But be careful anyway."
"You know me," she warned him with a wink.
"There should be a brazier at the top," Fannah reminded her. "The stories say that if we get both the minarets' braziers lit, the two towers will be protected from the elements."
"And maybe if Ciredor isn't here," Tazi mused, "we can use that shield to keep him out and destroy his gift. If he can't cast his spell on this special night in this special location, maybe everything will be ruined. Stay here."
Tazi got up and looked around for a torch in the dark, dusty tower. She spotted one along one of the walls and pried it loose. While she felt inside her vest for her chunk of flint, Steorf pointed a finger at the torch and it burst into flames. She graced him with a quick smile, transferred the torch to her left hand, and drew out her sword with her right.
The tower wasn't very wide, and she found the stairs soon enough, passing by a row of very old armaments. She debated about rummaging through the swords and pikes that were lined up against the wall but decided to stay with her blade. After years of training, it was like an extension of her arm.
She started up the steps.
Tazi walked along the outer edge of the stairs out of habit. That was the section of planking Cale had taught her years ago that always had the least chance of creaking, though it would take sharp ears to hear anything with the storm raging outside. The steps were divided in sections of ten, turning at right angles. In the center was an opening that ran the whole height of the tower. If she leaned to the side, Tazi could look up and down the length of the stairway. One wrong step could bring someone crashing down very quickly.
" 'My life is like a broken stair, winding round a ruined tower, and leading nowhere,' " she whispered-a phrase from an old taproom love song she had heard once.
She stopped at the first level and peered at the floor. There was nothing other than a series of bunks that lined the walls. Tazi reasoned that at least one garrison must have been housed there long before.
Between them and the spheres of protection, Tazi noted, travelers would have had it easy.
I wonder what happened to cause this to fall apart? she asked herself.
She made herself a mental note to ask Fannah about it all when they got back to Calimport.
There's that certainty again, she caught herself thinking. Do I really believe we're going to make it, or is it simply because I cannot conceive of death?
The third level was devoid of anything, and Tazi cautiously approached the fourth level. She was careful but had had a sneaking suspicion the whole march up that she wouldn't find anything.
If Ciredor had gone to the trouble of barring the entrance, she thought, he was probably not inside, like Steorf suspected.
She didn't smell his foul presence.
When she entered the rooftop parapet, she could see the sandstorm swirl around the tower, but the sound was still somewhat muted where she stood. Tazi caught a glint of her torch reflected back at her. She moved over to what looked like an open arch and stabbed at the empty space with her sword. The tip of her blade clinked against something, and she guessed that at least part of the parapet was glassed in. Set in the center of the room was a brass brazier resting on a stone base.
Tazi moved over to the brazier and held her torch above it. She studied the roof that was balanced on the deceptively slender arches. Set in a circle at the point of the roof, Tazi could see several blue crystals wink in the firelight. She sheathed her guardblade.
Tazi set the torch into the brazier, and within a minute, a small flame burned where no fire had been in thousands of years.
Tazi watched, awestruck, as the heat of the flames warmed the crystals and they came to life. The sapphire gems shone brilliantly, and outside Tazi could see the sand take on an azure color as light radiated from the minaret. The swirling seemed to diminish slightly, and the howls died down.
"Fannah was right," she said to herself.
Tazi rushed down the stairs and nearly turned an ankle on a loose step in her haste. She caught herself and kept going, cursing herself for not taking the torch with her. At the bottom of the stairs Fannah and Steorf were waiting for her. Steorf was unsteady on his feet, and she could see he held up his hand to illuminate the room.
"It worked," she told them. "Just like you said it would, Fannah."
"So all the stones were there," Fannah remarked.
"Yes," Tazi answered, "they were all mounted in the ceiling. Why?"
"I have heard stories of raiders who stole some of the gems along the Trade Way and sold them for huge fortunes in Memnon and Calimport. The gems, as I understand it, can only be found in the Omlarandin Mountains of Tethyr," she explained. "So they are basically irreplaceable, and if even one is missing it will not work."
"They're all there. Now let's light the other and see if we can lock Ciredor out," Tazi told them, buoyed by her success in the tower.
Tazi opened the doors to the east minaret, prepared to be blasted by the harsh winds, but the stones were working their magic. It was noticeably calmer, though the sand still swirled and stung their eyes. The west minaret was in view, a sharp outline against the setting sun, and the three didn't need to form a human chain to cross the Trade Way.
As soon as they reached the west tower, Steorf raised his hands to remove the wards. Tazi saw him lower them slowly, and she wondered if he was feeling weaker again, having expended too much of his sorcerous abilities.
"What is it?" she asked.
He turned to her and said ominously, "There aren't any wards on this entrance."
Tazi drew her sword and stepped inside, followed closely by Steorf and Fannah.
They shut the doors behind them, and Tazi said quietly, "I have a feeling we shouldn't get our hopes too high. I don't think this is going to be as easy as it looks."
Steorf turned sharply at Tazi's statement and grew thoughtful.
"What is it?" Tazi asked him.
"I think 'hope,' " he said, "just might be Ciredor's downfall."
Tazi nodded but was only partially paying attention, completely on guard.
"We might have beaten him here," she told her friends. "Stay down here and guard the entrance."
"What?" Steorf whispered harshly. "I'm coming with you."
"No," Tazi stopped him. "If he's not here, I need you guarding the entrance to stop him. If he is here-" she paused-"a few stairs won't slow you down."
Secretly, she knew he was mostly spent, and a part of her was afraid he would only slow her down when she faced Ciredor.
Steorf reluctantly agreed. He pulled a torch down and started to hand it to her but Tazi refused.
"I think it's better if I don't make myself too much of a target. Better to be in darkness," she whispered. "I've got my flint and a bit of tinder in my vest."
She patted the pocket to verify its contents.
"Luck to you," Fannah bid her.
"See you soon," she told them.
Tazi made her way carefully over to the stairs. Out of some childish superstition, she didn't glance back at her friends as she climbed the tower steps.
While the first two floors were nearly identical to the east minaret, Tazi noticed some differences farther up. By the faint light that came from the small lookout windows cut into the stones, Tazi could see some strange markings on the wall. Closer inspection under the weak, blue glow revealed writings very similar to the spidery scrawls that had covered Ciredor's scrolls. Spaced between some of the blocks of writing were nooks that housed obscene statues. Tazi had to gasp as she recognized one carved figure from the tallhouse Ciredor had rented in Selgaunt.