Gawain and Elayeen looked at the circles, and at the wizard, with a mixture of astonishment, hope, and immense doubt.
“And then what?” Gawain asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” Allazar replied immediately.
“Freedom and justice for all.” Elayeen repeated.
“I did say it was simply an intuition.” Allazar said, beginning to sound doubtful himself now. “But it cannot be coincidence that the runes, like the wheels of a barrel lock, spin each time someone enters. It is as though the circle is waiting for someone, or some people of each of the kindred races, to come together here, in common purpose.”
Gawain sniffed. “I grant that the explanation is certainly a simple one. Simple enough to defy the mystic minds of the many down through the ages of Raheen.”
Allazar drew the notebook from his bag. “I tested my idea last night, Longsword, and yesterday. Whenever I enter the circle, all the runes in all three circles change their form. But the centre ring, bearing the ancient Cerneform of wizardkind always contains the same symbols in the same order, merely in a different position about the circle. The other two rings change completely, but they are the rings for elfkind and humankind.”
“But if that is so, Allazar, then why has the lock not opened before? Since the circle was created in a time before all memory surely there have been many instances when wizards, elves, and men found themselves crossing the circle, or standing in it, together? My father’s dream was Union. Lord Rak himself remembers a great meeting here after Pellarn fell, ambassadors of all lands attended, including Elvendere.”
“True,” Allazar agreed quickly, but the smile did not slip. “I have no doubt there were many occasions when elves and men and wizards stood here together, or idly crossed the circle during feasts and other occasions such that all three would be within the circumferences at the same time.”
“And nothing happened.”
“And nothing happened, Longsword. For though my knowledge of ancient writings is, I confess, limited, this I do know from my studies and from studying the runes in the reflection of this curved staff: All the symbols are adjectives.”
“Adjectives.” Gawain repeated, his voice now rich with scepticism.
“Describing words,” Allazar confirmed, and on seeing Gawain tense added quickly: “Thus, the runes change according to the characteristics of he or she who enters the circle, and according to their race!”
“Then the circle awaits people with certain attributes.” Elayeen said quietly, almost sadly.
“Yes,” Allazar confirmed, “Which is why in the past, on the doubtless many occasions when people of the three kindred races were within the circle contemporaneously, nothing happened. They did not possess the characteristics necessary for the runes to disengage the lock.”
Gawain sighed. “There is only one way to find out if your simple solution to this enigma is correct, Allazar. If it is, it would seem fortunate indeed that my lady paid no heed to the letter advising her to remain below.”
“And if your lady had remained at the foot of the pass we would be dead, and unconcerned with ancient mysteries. This also explains why the traitors among the brethren in Elvendere worked so hard to keep you and Elayeen apart, Longsword. It was not simply a Union of the lands in the coming war Morloch feared, though that to him is doubtless dread enough, but a union between men and elves and the day when both would stand here, together.”
“I do not like it.” Elayeen announced, firmly, surprising them both.
“Miheth?”
Elayeen shrugged, and eased herself loose from Gawain’s embrace. She walked tentatively down the steps to stand at the edge of the circle, and looked down as though she were standing at the very edge of the cliffs towering above the Sea of Hope.
“There is ancient magic here far beyond our understanding,” she whispered. “For Morloch to fear it so much, there must be a fearful reason,” and with a long hard look over her shoulder at her beloved, and an even harder look at the wizard, added, “We are far, far removed from the minds of those who made this place, and the world in which they lived. Who are we to meddle thus, with neither knowledge nor wisdom of their intent to guide us?”
Gawain stepped slowly down to stand beside her, but kept a gentle distance between them.
“Two years ago, slightly more, I stood where Allazar now stands, my family sat upon the thrones behind us, and my father banished me from this land in accordance with a tradition I believed only applied to the first-born, my brother Kevyn. We are all here, together now, as a result of that tradition.
“A year and a day later I drew the Sword of Justice from the home-stone which lies yonder, and without knowing its power or its true origin, raised it, and swore an oath. It’s been enough for me to know that this sword upon my back has wrought vengeance upon the Ramoth and vexed Morloch since that day.
“But it hasn’t brought justice for all. It hasn’t brought justice for those slain by the Ramoth in Morloch’s name, it hasn’t brought justice for those slain by wizards since Ferdan, and it hasn’t brought justice for those we saw in the hands of Morloch’s spawn at the Barak-nor. Nor can it ever bring justice for the ruin of my land, of my home and of my people, the ruin which you have now seen, miheth.
“If the wizard is correct, and if our stepping into this circle should unleash some wild and dread power which annihilates utterly the evil yet lurking beyond the Dragon’s Teeth, I would do so in an instant. But even if our stepping into this circle now does nothing more than slightly irritate Morloch, still I would do so in an instant.
“I can feel your apprehension, mithroth, and I know you would leave here, and make haste for Elvendere and Shiyanath. I will not ask you to do this, nor would I command it, even in sight of the cracked and broken thrones above us and the ghosts of all the great kings who once sat there.
“But the very fact that Morloch would rather see me dead than stand in this circle is all I need to know to make me do so, and gladly.”
And Gawain stepped into the circle. The runes shifted, as they always did, just as they had every time he and Allazar had stood within the graven rings together these past two days. Nothing happened, also just as it had these past two days.
Elayeen let out a long and shuddering sigh, her arms by her side, staring down at her boots. Once, twice she breathed deeply, and then looked up at Gawain, her beautiful eyes damp with apprehension and some strange sense of elvish impropriety holding her back. Then she tore her eyes away from Gawain’s, and looked once more around the ruins of the Great Hall of Raheen, the rents in the walls, the gulls wheeling overhead. Then she fixed her gaze upon Gawain once more. “Eem ithroth, miheth,” she whispered, and stepped into the circle, and as the runes at once began to change, ran to bury her face in Gawain’s chest.
The runes shifted. First, the outer ring, then the centre, then the inner, and then all three seemed to lock together, and began rotating slowly around them, the pattern fixed.
“Behold!” Allazar gasped, clutching his staff as if letting go would see him flung out of the circle. “The circles have locked!”
They waited, Elayeen with her eyes screwed tight shut and clinging to Gawain as though the world would end at any moment; Gawain staring first at the wizard and then at the rune-circles as they revolved in the floor around them.
“What now, Allazar?” Gawain gasped, holding Elayeen tightly, feeling her apprehension trying to take hold of him through their binding.
Between them, at the centre of the circle, the small ring of runes encircling the home-stone seemed to pulse slightly, glowing a little and then fading, as though keeping time with the rotation of the outer rings. Allazar eyed the vacant slot in the stone.