Vona, Succiu, and Zabarra stood and approached Failee as she laid her arms along the length of the armrests of her throne and let her hands dangle over the intricately carved raven’s claws at each end. As Kluge watched, Vona and Succiu each produced two small leather belts, while Zabarra picked up the fogging goblet and watched attentively. Kluge couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched Succiu and Vona use the belts to secure Failee’s ankles to the throne legs and her wrists to the raven’s claws. They finished their work and waited dutifully.
“I am ready,” Failee said firmly, gazing at the black marble wall before them. Obediently, Zabarra raised the goblet to Failee’s lips. She drank timidly at first, taking only a small sip, as if apprehensive. Kluge had never known Failee to be afraid of anything, but this situation was apparently different. She then took another, larger swallow from the offered cup, this time seeming to much more enjoy both the flavor and the experience. Zabarra then placed the goblet on the table next to the box and went back to her throne, as did the other two.
The room became very cold. It had become more difficult to breathe, as though the air had become thinner, and all about the room came shimmering cascades of light moving to and fro, seemingly at their own will.
Failee’s head was bowed slightly forward, her eyelids covering the upper half of each of the hazel irises. Still she was focused intently upon the black marble wall. Strands of her dark, gray-streaked hair were now matted to her forehead with perspiration, despite the coldness of the room. Even in the dim light, Kluge could plainly see the vein in her left temple begin to throb. She was straining both hands and feet against the belts that held her to the throne, and it was apparent that she was fighting something. But what? As her sworn protector, he felt compelled to reach out and free her from her bonds, but he restrained himself, fearing that any interference at this point might only invite his own death. A drop of the crimson liquid that had somehow lingered in the corner of Failee’s mouth broke free and began to snake crazily downward toward her chin. Except for the ragged breathing of the First Mistress, the room was bathed in total silence.
Just then there came another sound. Kluge heard a strange scraping noise, like stone against stone, and looked to the domed ceiling of the chamber to see one of the ceiling stones moving by itself, down and over, creating a hole to the sky directly over Failee’s head.
Failee raised her head back up, still concentrating on the black wall, once again calm and in control. She delicately licked the crimson fluid from her chin. She began to smile.
Without warning a rectangular shaft of blue light shot down out of the sky, making a loud grating sound, as if it were scratching the very air through which it passed. It shot directly downward to the top of Failee’s head. The effect was immediate.
Her eyes were changing.
Kluge watched in a combination of fascination and horror as the irises and pupils of Failee’s eyes began to become translucent and then disappear altogether, leaving only the whites of her eyes. Then, slowly, the white began to change to black, the same endless black as the wall. Kluge began to break into perspiration, and his breathing quickened.
But more was to come.
Small pinpricks of light began to emanate from her eyes, like stars in a dark night sky, but they were too close together and far too numerous to count. The pinpricks of light began to join into one, and then the single band of white light began to move toward the black marble wall.
Failee finally spoke, apparently once again in full control of her faculties. She let out a throaty laugh. “And now, Commander, the answer to your first question. I believe you asked me how we could have such absolute knowledge of Eutracia after the passing of over three hundred years. An understandable request. But first, Sisters, please remove my bonds.”
The three other mistresses rose from their thrones and began removing the belts that held Failee. She remained stone-still, the light from her eyes continuously moving with almost agonizing slowness to the black marble wall, the ever-present shaft of blue light still shining down on the top of her head. When the light from her eyes had traversed approximately half of the distance to the wall it stopped, hovering in midair. Vona, Zabarra, and Succiu returned to their thrones.
Kluge noticed that both the goblet and the small square box had vanished from the table.
Failee raised her arms, palms up, as if in supplication, her eyes un-moving. “Commander,” she said in a low but commanding voice, “I present to you the palace at Tammerland, capital city of the kingdom of Eutracia.”
Immediately the shaft of brilliant light from Failee’s eyes screamed through the air, covering the remaining distance to the black wall in a bare second. When it reached the black marble, it became an impossible mixture of liquid and light, rolling and surging out in every direction, covering the wall in a golden glow. There came a great crashing noise, similar to but not exactly like thunder. The light from Failee’s eyes disappeared, and the wall was bathed in the most excruciatingly bright white light he had ever experienced. Instinctively he raised his hands to cover his eyes. When he finally sensed the light was gone, he slowly lowered his hands and found himself standing before the most amazing image he had ever seen.
It was like looking through a different pair of eyes and into a different life. Or, to be more precise, other lives. He was watching and hearing, in life-sized dimensions, scenes being played out as they were happening—hundreds of leagues away, across the Sea of Whispers in the kingdom of Eutracia. He stood transfixed.
The room he was looking at was larger than he had ever seen, so huge that although it was filled with hundreds of people it seemed almost empty. Even his visits to the Recluse had not prepared him for such splendor. The great square hall was covered by a domed ceiling of stained glass through which light cascaded in a dizzying array of colors; the floor was a vast sea of black—and-white checkerboard marble squares. Giant variegated marble columns, so thick around that it would take ten men holding hands to surround just one, flanked the entire length of two of the opposing walls from ceiling to floor. Scores of golden chandeliers and standing candelabras waited to be lit. Several large indoor fountains playfully shot streams of water into the air to tumble back into surrounding pools of fish of every color and description. A grand dais at one end of the hall identified this not only as a large gathering and meeting room, but as a throne room, as well. And a musicians’ pit on the left of the dais held about twenty well-dressed men and women tuning and practicing their various instruments, many of which he had never seen before, creating a riotous cacophony of sounds.
In the center of the raised dais sat two ornate thrones, one larger than the other—presumably meant for the rulers. To their right was a neat row of six smaller, less ornate thrones, each with a name handsomely engraved upon the top of the back. The names were so clear that he could read them easily: Wigg, Tretiak, Egloff, Slike, Killius, and Maaddar. Advisors to the king and queen, he assumed.
A ruby-red velvet runner ran from the steps of the dais and down the center of the entire length of the great hall. Sofas, tables, and chairs of every description and color were placed strategically about the room for the comfort of the occupants, and scores of floor-to-ceiling windows opened inward to welcome the warm Eutracian sunlight and breezes.
Occasionally the entire scene would go completely black for a split second and then instantly return. The effect was unnerving until Kluge realized that he was looking through another person’s eyes, and that the person must be blinking. Indeed, the viewer was now turning his head, as if in search of something in particular. Occasionally the entire scene would move dizzyingly up and down as the viewer nodded to other people in the room. Whoever the mistresses’ confederate was, he was certainly well received at the Eutracian court. However, whatever conversations were passing between them were drowned out by the practicing musicians.