"Seeker's Journey"
Part One
by Corvus
Raven thought it was a shame that as beautiful as Myst Island was, it was uninhabited most of the time. He stared at the painting of the island's geography that hung to the right of the door, waiting while Atrus dug a Linking Book out of his pack for them to make the crossing to Misara. Given a little direction from the D'ni, Raven could have simply shifted them through infinite Shadow, but it amused him to use his friend's method of transportation. And, he had to admit, it would be faster this way.
Atrus gave a little grunt of satisfaction as he produced the dark red tome that would give them access to the Age of their quest. "Silly me, I packed it all the way on the bottom. Didn't want to take a chance of forgetting it."
Raven gave Atrus a half-smile of acknowledgement and said, "Always the practical one." He turned from the map stepped over to where Atrus had set the Linking book on a lit display stand. Once, years ago, there had been a black scorch mark on this stand and on the one just like it on the opposite side of the room, but Raven had repaired the wood without inquiring as to the nature of the burns. Atrus had not commented then and had never explained since. "Any chance of a meal when we get there? I'm feeling peckish."
The final gold-edged parchment page of the book bore an animated image that would transport them to the world called Misara when they placed their hands upon it. As Raven watched the view swooped down from a brilliant desert sky and raced through a mountain pass. Once out of the pass, it danced a circle around a tower perched precariously atop a cliff above a crashing blue-gray sea. He studied the featureless gray stone and noticed there were no windows, balconies or doors. The objective dropped over the cliff suddenly and dashed across the waves toward a misty island. Forest grew thick almost right to the water, leaving a thin ribbon of shore. A village of wood and stone structures lay in a clearing a quarter mile back from the sea. The view shot into the largest of the structures, turned and settled on a raised dais. Even as it did the pale face of a curious native appeared in the doorway. "Yes," replied Atrus finally, "I believe so." He shouldered his pack and pressed his hand to the image.
Raven watched as his friend dissolved and his essence was drawn into the picture with a bizarre echoing hum. No matter how many times he saw the Linking process, it always disturbed him. "Next time we do it my way," he said, and touched the book.
The first sensation Raven noticed was the damp cold, an instant before the blackness that had settled over his eyes lifted to reveal what looked to him to be a tavern built from a dark, sturdy timber. Thick rafters loomed overhead, the pale gray light filtering through the two windows and the open door failing to fully pierce the shadowy darkness beyond them. Several plain, solid tables were surrounded by equally plain and sturdy wooden chairs. Atrus was already speaking with the native that had appeared in the Linking Book image. Raven shivered and rubbed his arms. "You didn't tell me it was going to be this cold," he complained.
"I'm so used to it I didn't give it much thought," said Atrus. "Pola, this is my friend Raven. He's agreed to help."
"Another Seeker?" the native man asked, his large ghostly gray eyes widening even further. "But the prophecy..."
"I don't know anything about prophecies," Raven quipped as he buttoned up his shirt. "Be back in a second, Atrus." The Amberite concentrated for a moment. A long-sleeved gray tunic with black, silver and sapphire blue trim and a matching cloak and belt. Yes, that would do. Calling upon the power of the Pattern, he took three long strides away from the dais and disappeared into Shadow.
Pola whimpered in surprise. "Where... where did he go, Seeker Atrus?"
"To fetch warmer clothing, I shouldn't wonder," the D'ni replied. "He'll be back in a moment. Never fear, he's a good man, he just has strange ways."
"As you say, Seeker Atrus. I will inform the Council of your arrival." The Misaran covered his face with his hands and bowed, showing his implicit trust that Atrus would guide him faithfully toward the Higher World, then left.
Raven reappeared without so much as a ripple in reality. He had decided to exchange his slacks for sturdier trousers and his shoes for boots in addition to the tunic and cloak. "Where'd he go?"
"To tell the ruling council of this village that we have arrived. They should be here shortly. Pola was... impressed... with your talent."
The Amberite appeared to consider this for a moment. Then he produced a well-polished red apple from a pouch on his belt and took a crunching bite. "What's this prophecy he mentioned?"
The chair Atrus pulled back from a table scraped roughly across the wooden floor. "In the Misaran holy texts there is a prophecy related to the object we seek. It states that a Seeker will appear from afar to reclaim it for the people."
"And you were supposed to be that Seeker, I take it. They weren't expecting another one." Raven took another bite from the apple.
A smile curled the D'ni's bearded lips. "I've never put much stock in prophecies either." Voices drifted into the tavern through the open door. "The Council has arrived." Atrus stood once more.
More than the Council, in fact, had made their way to greet the visitors. More than twenty Misarans of all ages filed into the tavern, all of them pale-skinned and fair-haired. Of them, seven wore headdresses and pale brown robes marking them as the Council members. Each headdress differed from the rest; one resembled antlers carved from the same dark wood as the tavern's walls, ceiling, rafters, floor, chairs and tables; another bore shimmering blue-green feathers swept up and back into an impressive crest; a third rattled as its beautiful female wearer moved her head, setting the beads which hung from the headdress on leather cords swinging and clacking. Atrus approached the tallest of the group, still relatively lithe though the burliest of the group that Raven could see, and placed his hands over his face before bowing. "I have returned as I promised, Council Dumo."
Dumo placed a pale hand on Atrus' shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. The Misaran intoned formally in a deep voice, "We welcome you back to our bosom with open hearts, Seeker Atrus. Do not bow to us, for you will lead us to the Higher World."
With the formalities out of the way, Atrus straightened and turned to introduce his companion. "This man is Raven, and he too is a Seeker. He will go with me to face the challenges."
"A second Seeker?" whispered the man with the wooden antlers. Raven privately thought the man's face belonged more on a weasel than a stag. "This is... irregular."
"Perhaps, Council Jeti. But the holy texts do not specifically prohibit a second Seeker, and with the two of us working together, our chances of success increase greatly. Raven is a gifted man and has accompanied me in my travels before."
To Jeti's left, another of the councilwomen -- this one wearing a thick leather headband set with coral and amber -- folded her arms under her small breasts and scowled. "You expect us to place our trust in a complete stranger?"
"I will vouch for Raven, Council Yoae. I have unshakeable faith in him."
"Does he not speak for himself?" asked the beaded woman in a sonorous voice Raven liked immediately.
"I allow Atrus to speak for me," Raven explained, "because he knows you and your ways. I'll answer any questions you want to ask me."
Atrus interrupted the woman's next words. "Council Sira, before you begin, I have one small favor to ask."
"Of course, Seeker Atrus."
"Raven and I have journeyed long today and we would like to refresh ourselves. May we reconvene in two hours?" asked Atrus.
The Council members regarded each other briefly. Dumo nodded his assent and spread his arms wide. "The hospitality of Misara is open to you both. We will gather here in two hours' time." With that pronouncement the crowd of onlookers shuffled back out of the tavern, whispering among themselves. Raven took a last bite of his apple and flicked the core through Shadow to land in some parallel world. Dumo watched the display with obvious interest. "You are a powerful man," he said. A statement, not a question.
"Not as powerful as some," replied Raven in a characteristic Amberite dodge.
"We shall see. Come, we will go to my dwelling. You may clean yourselves and rest there, and my wife will prepare the evening meal for us." Dumo led them from the tavern out into the mist.
The Misaran village was laid out in a rough circle around a large open common ground of hardy grass. A trail cut into the woods to the north led to the shore. The tavern, by contrast, had been constructed hard against the forest in the south. Single-level houses built on stone foundations four to six feet high ringed the commons, warm light filling their windows. Each house had a flight of steps leading up to a large roofed porch where families gathered to catch a glimpse of the Seeker and his companion. Curious children peered over rough dark railings or sat on the steps with their parents, gawking openly as Dumo led Atrus and Raven away from the tavern. He brought them to his home just west of the trail. As they stepped onto the porch they could smell a delicious spicy aroma. "Mefe is making her special stew," Dumo declared with a broad grin. "Please, come inside."
The Councilman led them into the main room of the house. Directly across from them a small woman, Dumo's wife Mefe, busied herself stirring a large black iron cookpot handing from a thick hook-arm that rotated toward and away from the blazing fire. "I return, Wife," he greeted her.
"Welcome back to your home, Husband," Mefe gave in the traditional reply. She straightened and paused only briefly when she saw the men Dumo had brought with him. Mefe was a pretty woman. Raven had no way to judge her age, but she seemed to be her husband's contemporary. "Seeker Atrus, you honor our home with your presence. Who is the newcomer?"
Dumo spoke. "This is Raven. He is also a Seeker. Seeker Raven, my beloved wife Mefe." The Amberite gave Mefe a courtly bow. Seeker or not, traditions or no, he was not about to cover his face in a gesture of submission to any Misaran.
"I am honored to be a guest in your dwelling, madam," he said gravely.
"As well-mannered as Seeker Atrus. Truly we are blessed." Mefe gave the pot another stir. "Please show the Seekers to the spare rooms so they might freshen up, Dumo."
"Of course, Mefe." The Councilman grinned broadly at Atrus and Raven. "Right this way."
A doorway in the main room's west wall opened onto a small hall with four doors, all on the west side. Dumo indicated the two middle doors. "Inside you will find washbasins and drycloths. If you wish to rest, I will call you for the evening meal. Please feel at home."
Raven watched Dumo return to the main room, his expression blank. "They a ritualistic people, as I told you," Atrus explained. "All things considered I think you made a very good impression."
"Not difficult. Someday soon I'll take you to Amber and let you drown in the sea of political doublespeak and innuendo for a bit." With a heavy sigh the Amberite shook his head. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to avail myself of their generous hospitality."
"See you at dinner," said Atrus.
Once ensconced in his room Atrus stripped off his vest and tunic and washed with steaming water from a white porcelain basin. It was good to be back with the Misarans. Their formal interactions blended with their respect for nature in a unique manner that he found both intriguing and reassuring. Catherine would be amused by the protocols which lay between even two people as close as Mefe and Dumo. Some day soon, he promised himself, he would bring her here for a time.
Atrus finished his bath, brought his ink, pen and journal out of his pack, and sat on the floor next to the large feather-mattress bed. He dipped the pen and began to write.
"The quest has not yet begun, but already I feel a hesitant sense of impending success. Raven's swift agreement was a boon I could not have welcomed more. With his Amberite intellect and the strange powers he draws from this mysterious 'Pattern' combined with my knowledge of Misanan culture, we should be able to overcome any challenge.
"I did not even notice this morning when I set the Linking Book to this Age on the spot where the Prison Book that held Sirrus once lay. Even now I am still torn inside between wanting to forget his and Achenar's existances, their terrible betrayal of their mother, myself and everything we taught them, and cherishing the memory of the way they once were. I do not know if this conflict will ever be resolved. Time has not healed the wound, only lessened the pain a very little bit.
"Still, the love and respect of the people of this Age and many others gives me hope. This I will carry with me always."
Leaving the pages open to dry, Atrus doffed his spectacles, climbed into the bed, closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.
On the other side of the wall, Raven toweled himself off and brought out the deck of special Trumps his cousin Merlin had given him as a gift years ago. Flopping down on the bed, he took the cards out of their case. He shuffled through and withdrew a card depicting a beautiful green-haired woman standing before a frosted-glass window, looking back over her shoulder with a hidden, knowing smile. His mother, the princess Llewella, should be at her home in the undersea city of Rebma. His icy eyes focused on the image. Raven reached out with his mind, searching for his mother's thoughts. After a few minutes he felt a response, and the image on the card began to move.
"Hello, Raven," the woman said.
"Hello, Mother. Your beauty is stunning, as always."
Llewella dismissed his flattery with a tiny flick of her fingers. "Random told me you were in Amber not long ago. Official business?"
"Of a sort," Raven dodged. "I'll be out of touch for a while. I met up with my friend Atrus and decided to join him on an excursion. Thought I should let you know in case anyone wanted to get in touch with me."
Amusement sparkled in the eyes of the woman in the image. "You deliberately avoid them most of the time. Why would you want to change that?"
"You're right, I wouldn't. Like mother, like son," he teased. Neither he nor his mother had any taste for the political games of Amber. He could tolerate the quick-witted King of Amber for a few days at a time"I'll tell you all about the journey when I return to Rebma."
"Until then," Llewella said, and the contact was broken. Raven shuffled her card back into the deck and returned the cards to their case. Then he set them aside and let himself drop into sleep.
A dreamless hour passed. Gentle rapping lifted Raven from his doze. "Seeker Raven, the evening meal is prepared. We would be honored by your presence," said Domu from the other side of the door. A gentle way of saying 'get your fanny out here and eat', he surmised. He rose and dressed quickly. Atrus was already waiting in the main room. No one was seated yet. Domu indicated an empty chair and Raven stood behind it.
Mefe brought bowls of a thick, chunky stew to the table. She set one in front of Raven and one before Atrus, then served her husband and herself. Finally she stood behind her own chair and held out her hands, one to Domu and one to Atrus. Raven linked his hands with the other two men and listened as Mefe sang a verse in some alien language. The liquid consonants and flowing vowels reminded him of the sea and the mist that surrounded this island.
When the benediction was concluded, the Misarans sat. Atrus and Raven took their seats as well. Atrus immediately picked up his eating utensil, which resembled a spoon with small fork tines on the end, and plucked a steaming bit of tuber from the stew. The D'ni knew that the Misarans were waiting for his opinion on the meal, and he was honestly delighted. The native spices blended with the meat juice and heaty flavor of the tuber into a pleasing whole. "Your cooking is without parallel," he said to Mefe. "Truly delicious."
Raven quickly followed suit and bit into a chunk of tender meat quite like choice beef from Merlin's fabled "Shadow Earth". The spices reminded him of oregano and basil, with a faint dash of paprika and cinnamon. "I haven't had anything this good in quite some time," he admitted. "Thank you for sharing it with me."
By the way the Misaran couple smiled as they began to eat, Raven knew he'd continued the favorable impression. Throughout the meal Atrus spoke of the adventures he and the Amberite had shared, focusing especially on their recent battle with Minos, the insane and puissant Logrus-sorceror who ruled over the Shadow/Age-spanning Labyrinth. Raven filled in details, including his encounter with Daedalus, the man forced by Minos to forge the awesome construct. Together the D'ni and the Amberite had made their way through devious mazes, puzzles of twisted logic and lethal traps to the center of the Labyrinth, where they faced down Minos himself. Raven conveniently left out the sorceror's astonishing ability to damage Raven's link to the Pattern -- something he hadn't even told Random.
The second hour had passed. Mefe gathered the dishes and Domu wished her a fond yet formal farewell, promising to return home swiftly. The Councilman led the Seekers back to the Tavern where the rest of the Council was already gathered.
The tables had been pushed against the walls and the Council were seated in a wide semi-circle. Domu took his chair in the center, between Sira and Jeti. Atrus and Raven stood among them. "The Council is gathered. Before us stand two Seekers, Atrus and Raven, come to us from afar to return the Orb of Geda to our people. Welcome, Seekers." As one the Council rose and bowed, covering their faces with their hands, then sat again.
"Thank you for your welcome, Council," Atrus said. "Though I know the story of the Orb and its importance to the people, my companion has not heard the tale. Would you grace us with its telling?"
Domu's eyes shifted to the man at the far right end of the Council's arc. His headdress was formed of leaves of dyed leather arranged into an artful crown. The man's face was lined with the passage of years and his limbs were withered, though he moved with the grace of the young. He spoke in a strong, gravelly voice.
"This is the story of the Orb of Geda. Ages ago our people were ruled by a wise chief, named Geda. Geda was fair and strong, and he loved our people and our land like no other. His wisdom gave us peace and prosperity.
"Even Geda's wisdom could not have foreseen the terrible blight that befell Misana. Plants and animals alike sickened and died, on the land and in the once-bountiful ocean. The people starved, and Geda weakened twofold, in body and in spirit, to see the suffering. Try though he might Geda could see no way to give succor to his people. The birds sang no more.
"Then, as he lay in his bed burning with fever, he was given a vision. If he would sacrifice himself atop the cliffs that overlook the ocean far to the north of the isle of the people, the Higher World would take pity and bring health back to all. In the dead of night Geda stole from his dwelling and plunged into the sea in a tiny boat.
"Fever-demons within and storm without battered Geda, but he knew that if he failed his people would die. He pushed on, surviving through his will alone, and reached the northern shore. Beaten, weak and dying, Geda crawled his way to the clifftop and collapsed upon the ground.
"'Hear me, o thou of the Higher World,' he gasped as his breath began to fail him, 'I have come from the isle of the people to give myself for the sake of all life. I give my life for theirs.' And then he despaired, for he had brought no ritual knife with him. As his heart broke his tears wet the ground. Finally he died.
"Those of the Higher World heard his prayer and knew that he had sacrificed himself for his people. Geda's tears congealed in the earth and mixed with it. An orb of perfect love was formed, and its light gave breath back to Geda. When he saw the orb he knew that his sacrifice had not been in vain. Taking the orb, Geda returned to the people.
"On that day, not one of the people perished. The next, the birds made their songs once more. The plants flowered in a glorious spring and game and fish were plentiful again. The people praised Geda and worshipped his name.
"But Geda knew that he was no god. He beseeched the people to cover their eyes and gaze not upon the orb or his face, but to feel love in their hearts and trust in themselves and each other. From that day forth the people of Misana have covered their eyes to each other in show of faith and love. This is the story of the Orb of Geda."
Silence had the floor in the tavern room for several minutes as Raven considered the legend. Certain elements of it were common to mythologies throughout shadow -- threats to the existance of the people, a great sacrifice, resurrection and return. Apparently this Orb was real, since he and Atrus were about to go looking for it. What was it really? The only way to figure that out would be to find it. Atrus broke the silence. "Thank you, Council Odei, for imparting the wisdom of the tale to us." The elderly Councilman regained his seat.
On the other side, a young woman barely out of childhood rose. "This is the quest of the Seeker. In four days we will be celebrating one thousand years since Geda's sacrifice and return. Our holy texts prescribe ritual observances for this sacred day. To complete the ritual, we need the Orb. But hundreds of years ago the Orb was stolen from us and locked away in a tower erected on the site of Geda's sacrifice.
"Without the Orb, the rituals will not be complete, and the sickness will return to Misana. Our bravest have attempted to recover the Orb, with no success. Now, the promised Seeker from afar has come to us. The Seeker must recover the Orb of Geda. This is the quest of the Seeker."
Again Atrus spoke after a pause. "Thank you, Council Tilo, for imparting the wisdom of our quest to us."
Domu looked to Sila. Sila rose.
The beautiful woman studied both Seekers, the clacking of her beaded headdress mingling with the crackling fire as she looked from one to the other. "For ages we have have known that the Seeker would come to us in our time of need. But we could not have anticipated that the Seeker would be not one, but two. Seeker Atrus, you agreed to quest for the Orb. Why have you brought this man Raven to us?"
Privately, Raven wanted to see how his friend would get around this pitfall. While he had to admit a fondness for Domu and his wife, in the grand scheme of things Misara didn't mean much. Not only that, but time and again he had seen prophecies come to pass not because the events had been forseen, but because the people made them happen in their fervor. Still, he knew Atrus would go after the Orb on his own if the Council decided there should indeed be only one Seeker, and though he had faith in his D'ni friend's abilities, he'd much rather be by Atrus' side to ensure success.
Atrus cleared his throat and scratched his beard. He'd given some thought to this particular puzzle, but tradition and formality ran strong in these people and he was somewhat worried he wouldn't be able to make all these pieces fit into a whole the Misarans would find acceptible. He decided to try his strongest gambit first. No use wasting time. "Raven and I have traveled together through many lands. Council Domu has heard us tell of our last quest, to defeat a powerful sorceror. Alone, neither of us would have succeeded. Together, we were able to overcome the evil one and save not just one world, but many. I believe he and I are parts of a whole, brothers in spirit if not in blood. I give Raven my love and trust as a brother. I ask you to trust the faith you have placed in me, and trust my faith in him. Together we are the Seeker."
Raven forced himself to maintain a blank expression. Yes, the D'ni's words were a bit presumptive, but that was from an Amberite view of things. Atrus spoke truly. Neither of them would have been able to defeat Minos and destroy the Labyrinth alone. Many times on that adventure they had relied on each other, with no room for doubt. They had proven themselves to each other. His friendship and respect for Atrus deepened in that moment, as did his appreciation of Atrus' skill in diplomacy.
His friend would do well in Amber, he thought.
The council members whispered to each other as they considered Atrus' words. Atrus had appealed to their cultural traditions, following the ancient ways. There was no doubt that he was the Seeker. Raven was an unknown, a stranger to them, though he had been respectful to them all. Atrus said Raven was a part of him, that together they were more than they were individually. If the two men were the Seeker together, splitting them apart would prove disasterous. If they were not the Seeker, it was not said that the Seeker would not have aid from others in the holy texts.
A decision was reached.
Domu stood and offered his hands to Atrus and Raven. "We trust in our faith and yours. You are both the Seeker in our eyes. Tomorrow you will quest for the Orb of Geda, to bring it back to the people. You will leave at first light. Tonight we will celebrate." The rest of the Council rose and clasped hands with the men one by one, then as a whole bowed once more, faces covered. All the Council except Domu filed out.
"Truly well-spoken, Seeker Atrus," the Councilman said. "Even if my mind had been set in stone against this, your wisdom would have freed it from that rigid prison." He turned to Raven and said, "It is my sincere hope that you understand what has been said and done here. Be proud of your brother, as he is proud of you."
The Amberite allowed himself a small smile. "I am."
"Let us prepare for the celebration," said Domu. "Mefe will be pleased."
That evening, a pit was cleared on the common grounds and a blazing bonfire was lit. The people of Misara, young and old, gathered to meet the two men who were the Seeker, to sing and tell stories, and to celebrate life. Even Raven couldn't hope to remember a tiny fraction of the names he heard, one after another. Young maidens smiled shyly at him as he greeted them. Little boys mimicked his courtly bows and laughed at his jokes. Atrus knew most of these people already and greeted them again with warmth and love. He spoke of his travels to other Ages, to the delight of all. Yes, Catherine would enjoy life here in Misara.
Out of the corner of his eye, Raven caught Sila watching him with a critical gaze. Excusing himself briefly he crossed to her and bowed once more. "Council Sila."
"Seeker Raven," she said quietly.
"Your eyes tell me you have private doubts."
The woman mastered a glare. Evidently he'd hit a nerve. "Your cleverness does you a disservice."
"I meant no offense, of course." Not quite an apology, more a statement of fact. He decided to take a different tack. "I find the ways of your people intriguing. I'd like to learn more."
"You will," Sila said simply. Though her expression betrayed nothing, the gleam in her eyes spoke volumes. She turned and walked away, with only a quick glance back.
"And Mother wonders why I don't play with the cousins much," the Amberite muttered darkly. He made his way back to Atrus, who was concluing an ancient story of D'ni.
The bearded man had noted Sila's departure. "Dare I ask what that was about?"
"Anthropology doesn't suit me," rejoined Raven.
"Archaeology seems more your style, yes," Atrus said. His friend relaxed a bit. "It seems that we're going to be treated to something special in a little while."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Domu made mention of a dance of some kind. This should prove quite interesting."
Raven simply nodded. His eyes searched the crowd but found no trace of Sila. His disappointment was brief, but sharp.
An hour later, the children were herded to bed by their parents. The remaining adults and the Council members, including Sila, seated themselves on the grass as a group. Several men and women brought out hide drums and carved wood flutes. Domu indicated that Raven should sit next to him, and Atrus on the other side of Mefe. "You will enjoy this," he assured them.
The gathering fell silent. A lone drummer struck his instrument and a rolling of thunder echoed across the clearing. Again, and again, then he was joined by another, and another in a complex and primal rhythm, like the heartbeat of the earth. Over the ground of drums came the wind of the flutes, dancing, soaring and diving. The music held the listeners enthralled. Raven felt himself carried off and almost didn't notice when Sila stood and glided to stand in front of them.
The flutes drifted away, and all the drums but one fell silent. "Tonight I have asked for the right to explore one of the deepest mysteries of our people. We have gathered here to celebrate life in joy for the coming of the Seeker. To show my joy, I requested of the Council and was given perission to perform the Dance of Life."
Murmurs rippled through the gathering. Atrus only smiled; he had been told about this most sacred of dances during his last stay here. Domu leaned over and whispered an explanation to Raven. "The Dance of Life is an expression of the primal joy we feel in our connection to all living things. We believe that the inspiration for the Dance comes from the Higher World. When we feel that joy surge within us as a people, as we do now, a woman will feel the desire to perform the Dance. It is somewhat... suggestive, at times, which is why we wait for the children to sleep before the performance."
One black eyebrow crept up Raven's forehead. So this is what Sila had meant. His gaze drank in her exquisite features, bathed the golden orange of a blazing sunrise by the bonfire. The single drum echoed again and was once more joined by its brothers, summoning the rhythm of life. Sila grasped her robe and drew it up and over her body to reveal a clinging wrap of shimmering material, which threw sparks of light around her. She cast the robe into the flames turned to face her audience. Her eyes were closed.
Then she began the Dance.
Raven had never seen anything so sensual. Sila's body became an incarnation of the pulse of life, driven by the thundering drums. She caressed the sky, wound down to the ground and embraced the earth itself. Her body rippled with the sinuous arching of the ocean's waves. All this time her eyes were closed.
The rhythm grew faster, and Sila's motions rode with it. She spun, stood on the ball of one foot and grasped for the heavens. The light of the bonfire embraced her body, transforming her into an angel of light. Fire shot across her as her arms twisted like glorious serpents, taking the postures of living things. Her eyes opened.
Sila looked directly at Raven. Their eyes locked. Heat burned inside him like the core of a world. He knew, in that moment, that she was dancing for him.
Again the drums became faster. Sila's Dance became an ecstatic trance of motion, wind across the desert, lightning splitting the sky. Her steps brought her closer to her chosen one. Then, suddenly, the drums stopped.
Sila collapsed to her knees in front of Raven. Her skin was slick with the sweat of her exertion, lit by the fires without and within. Slowly she lifted her head. Her gaze was shrouded by her soaked and tossed tresses. In spite of himself, Raven reached out and brushed aside the damp locks. Sila smiled. For a moment they remained frozen, gazing into each other's eyes.
"This is the Dance of Life," she whispered. Then she sat back on her heels and smiled to her people. "This is the Dance of Life," she said again, strong and proud. "Our joy given form." The Misarans and Atrus applauded as Sila stood. Raven remained paralyzed in awe.
Sila walked away from the fire, followed by Raven's entranced gaze. Domu gripped the Amberite's shoulder gently. "She favors you, Seeker Raven."
The trance was broken. Raven inhaled deeply and wondered if he had breathed at all during the dance. "I... I'm honored."
"As are we all. It is time to rest, now. The morning awaits us." The crowd dispersed to their homes, their hearts full of wonder. Raven levered himself off the ground and followed Atrus and Domu back to the Councilman's house.
That night, Atrus slept soundly, wrapped in thoughts of Catherine. Raven's dreams were haunted by images of Sila bathed in glorious flames, dancing at the heart of the world.
Morning was shrouded in deep fog. Mefe prepared a breakfast of thin broth, a substantial brown bread and sharp yellow cheese. Once they had eaten, Raven and Atrus gathered their few belongings and accompanied Domu down the forest path to the shore.
The mist parted as they reached the fine sand of the beach. The sun, just rising in the east, played across a magnificant white boat anchored offshore. A raft of vine-lashed logs awaited them, as did the entire Council and many of the other inhabitants of the village. Raven's heart stopped when Sila, clad in another brown robe, met his eyes and smiled. Domu clasped each man's hands and blessed them and their journey. "The Higher World has brought you to us from afar. Our faith and love go with you to find the Orb of Geda. We await your return with open arms and open hearts."
Raven and Atrus climbed onto the raft. An invisible force pulled the small craft away from the shore on a steady course for the boat. Atrus studied the craft with a keen eye, taking note of its form. Twin gauzy sails arched up from the sides like the wings of a hummingbird paused in their frantic beating. The prow swept high and proud, and the stern boasted a small deckhouse. A rope ladder hung over the gunwale for them to board. There was no one visible aboard the vessel.
Raven's eyes remained fixed on Sila.
When the raft reached the boat it stopped gently. Atrus grasped the rope and climbed aboard swiftly. His Amberite companion took one last long look at the shore and raised his arm in farewell. Sila mirrored his gesture. Heartened, Raven clambered up after Atrus.
The raft pulled away from the boat, and the gleaming ivory vessel turned north, toward the far shore.
Part One
by Corvus
Raven thought it was a shame that as beautiful as Myst Island was, it was uninhabited most of the time. He stared at the painting of the island's geography that hung to the right of the door, waiting while Atrus dug a Linking Book out of his pack for them to make the crossing to Misara. Given a little direction from the D'ni, Raven could have simply shifted them through infinite Shadow, but it amused him to use his friend's method of transportation. And, he had to admit, it would be faster this way.
Atrus gave a little grunt of satisfaction as he produced the dark red tome that would give them access to the Age of their quest. "Silly me, I packed it all the way on the bottom. Didn't want to take a chance of forgetting it."
Raven gave Atrus a half-smile of acknowledgement and said, "Always the practical one." He turned from the map stepped over to where Atrus had set the Linking book on a lit display stand. Once, years ago, there had been a black scorch mark on this stand and on the one just like it on the opposite side of the room, but Raven had repaired the wood without inquiring as to the nature of the burns. Atrus had not commented then and had never explained since. "Any chance of a meal when we get there? I'm feeling peckish."
The final gold-edged parchment page of the book bore an animated image that would transport them to the world called Misara when they placed their hands upon it. As Raven watched the view swooped down from a brilliant desert sky and raced through a mountain pass. Once out of the pass, it danced a circle around a tower perched precariously atop a cliff above a crashing blue-gray sea. He studied the featureless gray stone and noticed there were no windows, balconies or doors. The objective dropped over the cliff suddenly and dashed across the waves toward a misty island. Forest grew thick almost right to the water, leaving a thin ribbon of shore. A village of wood and stone structures lay in a clearing a quarter mile back from the sea. The view shot into the largest of the structures, turned and settled on a raised dais. Even as it did the pale face of a curious native appeared in the doorway. "Yes," replied Atrus finally, "I believe so." He shouldered his pack and pressed his hand to the image.
Raven watched as his friend dissolved and his essence was drawn into the picture with a bizarre echoing hum. No matter how many times he saw the Linking process, it always disturbed him. "Next time we do it my way," he said, and touched the book.
The first sensation Raven noticed was the damp cold, an instant before the blackness that had settled over his eyes lifted to reveal what looked to him to be a tavern built from a dark, sturdy timber. Thick rafters loomed overhead, the pale gray light filtering through the two windows and the open door failing to fully pierce the shadowy darkness beyond them. Several plain, solid tables were surrounded by equally plain and sturdy wooden chairs. Atrus was already speaking with the native that had appeared in the Linking Book image. Raven shivered and rubbed his arms. "You didn't tell me it was going to be this cold," he complained.
"I'm so used to it I didn't give it much thought," said Atrus. "Pola, this is my friend Raven. He's agreed to help."
"Another Seeker?" the native man asked, his large ghostly gray eyes widening even further. "But the prophecy..."
"I don't know anything about prophecies," Raven quipped as he buttoned up his shirt. "Be back in a second, Atrus." The Amberite concentrated for a moment. A long-sleeved gray tunic with black, silver and sapphire blue trim and a matching cloak and belt. Yes, that would do. Calling upon the power of the Pattern, he took three long strides away from the dais and disappeared into Shadow.
Pola whimpered in surprise. "Where... where did he go, Seeker Atrus?"
"To fetch warmer clothing, I shouldn't wonder," the D'ni replied. "He'll be back in a moment. Never fear, he's a good man, he just has strange ways."
"As you say, Seeker Atrus. I will inform the Council of your arrival." The Misaran covered his face with his hands and bowed, showing his implicit trust that Atrus would guide him faithfully toward the Higher World, then left.
Raven reappeared without so much as a ripple in reality. He had decided to exchange his slacks for sturdier trousers and his shoes for boots in addition to the tunic and cloak. "Where'd he go?"
"To tell the ruling council of this village that we have arrived. They should be here shortly. Pola was... impressed... with your talent."
The Amberite appeared to consider this for a moment. Then he produced a well-polished red apple from a pouch on his belt and took a crunching bite. "What's this prophecy he mentioned?"
The chair Atrus pulled back from a table scraped roughly across the wooden floor. "In the Misaran holy texts there is a prophecy related to the object we seek. It states that a Seeker will appear from afar to reclaim it for the people."
"And you were supposed to be that Seeker, I take it. They weren't expecting another one." Raven took another bite from the apple.
A smile curled the D'ni's bearded lips. "I've never put much stock in prophecies either." Voices drifted into the tavern through the open door. "The Council has arrived." Atrus stood once more.
More than the Council, in fact, had made their way to greet the visitors. More than twenty Misarans of all ages filed into the tavern, all of them pale-skinned and fair-haired. Of them, seven wore headdresses and pale brown robes marking them as the Council members. Each headdress differed from the rest; one resembled antlers carved from the same dark wood as the tavern's walls, ceiling, rafters, floor, chairs and tables; another bore shimmering blue-green feathers swept up and back into an impressive crest; a third rattled as its beautiful female wearer moved her head, setting the beads which hung from the headdress on leather cords swinging and clacking. Atrus approached the tallest of the group, still relatively lithe though the burliest of the group that Raven could see, and placed his hands over his face before bowing. "I have returned as I promised, Council Dumo."
Dumo placed a pale hand on Atrus' shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. The Misaran intoned formally in a deep voice, "We welcome you back to our bosom with open hearts, Seeker Atrus. Do not bow to us, for you will lead us to the Higher World."
With the formalities out of the way, Atrus straightened and turned to introduce his companion. "This man is Raven, and he too is a Seeker. He will go with me to face the challenges."
"A second Seeker?" whispered the man with the wooden antlers. Raven privately thought the man's face belonged more on a weasel than a stag. "This is... irregular."
"Perhaps, Council Jeti. But the holy texts do not specifically prohibit a second Seeker, and with the two of us working together, our chances of success increase greatly. Raven is a gifted man and has accompanied me in my travels before."
To Jeti's left, another of the councilwomen -- this one wearing a thick leather headband set with coral and amber -- folded her arms under her small breasts and scowled. "You expect us to place our trust in a complete stranger?"
"I will vouch for Raven, Council Yoae. I have unshakeable faith in him."
"Does he not speak for himself?" asked the beaded woman in a sonorous voice Raven liked immediately.
"I allow Atrus to speak for me," Raven explained, "because he knows you and your ways. I'll answer any questions you want to ask me."
Atrus interrupted the woman's next words. "Council Sira, before you begin, I have one small favor to ask."
"Of course, Seeker Atrus."
"Raven and I have journeyed long today and we would like to refresh ourselves. May we reconvene in two hours?" asked Atrus.
The Council members regarded each other briefly. Dumo nodded his assent and spread his arms wide. "The hospitality of Misara is open to you both. We will gather here in two hours' time." With that pronouncement the crowd of onlookers shuffled back out of the tavern, whispering among themselves. Raven took a last bite of his apple and flicked the core through Shadow to land in some parallel world. Dumo watched the display with obvious interest. "You are a powerful man," he said. A statement, not a question.
"Not as powerful as some," replied Raven in a characteristic Amberite dodge.
"We shall see. Come, we will go to my dwelling. You may clean yourselves and rest there, and my wife will prepare the evening meal for us." Dumo led them from the tavern out into the mist.
The Misaran village was laid out in a rough circle around a large open common ground of hardy grass. A trail cut into the woods to the north led to the shore. The tavern, by contrast, had been constructed hard against the forest in the south. Single-level houses built on stone foundations four to six feet high ringed the commons, warm light filling their windows. Each house had a flight of steps leading up to a large roofed porch where families gathered to catch a glimpse of the Seeker and his companion. Curious children peered over rough dark railings or sat on the steps with their parents, gawking openly as Dumo led Atrus and Raven away from the tavern. He brought them to his home just west of the trail. As they stepped onto the porch they could smell a delicious spicy aroma. "Mefe is making her special stew," Dumo declared with a broad grin. "Please, come inside."
The Councilman led them into the main room of the house. Directly across from them a small woman, Dumo's wife Mefe, busied herself stirring a large black iron cookpot handing from a thick hook-arm that rotated toward and away from the blazing fire. "I return, Wife," he greeted her.
"Welcome back to your home, Husband," Mefe gave in the traditional reply. She straightened and paused only briefly when she saw the men Dumo had brought with him. Mefe was a pretty woman. Raven had no way to judge her age, but she seemed to be her husband's contemporary. "Seeker Atrus, you honor our home with your presence. Who is the newcomer?"
Dumo spoke. "This is Raven. He is also a Seeker. Seeker Raven, my beloved wife Mefe." The Amberite gave Mefe a courtly bow. Seeker or not, traditions or no, he was not about to cover his face in a gesture of submission to any Misaran.
"I am honored to be a guest in your dwelling, madam," he said gravely.
"As well-mannered as Seeker Atrus. Truly we are blessed." Mefe gave the pot another stir. "Please show the Seekers to the spare rooms so they might freshen up, Dumo."
"Of course, Mefe." The Councilman grinned broadly at Atrus and Raven. "Right this way."
A doorway in the main room's west wall opened onto a small hall with four doors, all on the west side. Dumo indicated the two middle doors. "Inside you will find washbasins and drycloths. If you wish to rest, I will call you for the evening meal. Please feel at home."
Raven watched Dumo return to the main room, his expression blank. "They a ritualistic people, as I told you," Atrus explained. "All things considered I think you made a very good impression."
"Not difficult. Someday soon I'll take you to Amber and let you drown in the sea of political doublespeak and innuendo for a bit." With a heavy sigh the Amberite shook his head. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to avail myself of their generous hospitality."
"See you at dinner," said Atrus.
Once ensconced in his room Atrus stripped off his vest and tunic and washed with steaming water from a white porcelain basin. It was good to be back with the Misarans. Their formal interactions blended with their respect for nature in a unique manner that he found both intriguing and reassuring. Catherine would be amused by the protocols which lay between even two people as close as Mefe and Dumo. Some day soon, he promised himself, he would bring her here for a time.
Atrus finished his bath, brought his ink, pen and journal out of his pack, and sat on the floor next to the large feather-mattress bed. He dipped the pen and began to write.
"The quest has not yet begun, but already I feel a hesitant sense of impending success. Raven's swift agreement was a boon I could not have welcomed more. With his Amberite intellect and the strange powers he draws from this mysterious 'Pattern' combined with my knowledge of Misanan culture, we should be able to overcome any challenge.
"I did not even notice this morning when I set the Linking Book to this Age on the spot where the Prison Book that held Sirrus once lay. Even now I am still torn inside between wanting to forget his and Achenar's existances, their terrible betrayal of their mother, myself and everything we taught them, and cherishing the memory of the way they once were. I do not know if this conflict will ever be resolved. Time has not healed the wound, only lessened the pain a very little bit.
"Still, the love and respect of the people of this Age and many others gives me hope. This I will carry with me always."
Leaving the pages open to dry, Atrus doffed his spectacles, climbed into the bed, closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.
On the other side of the wall, Raven toweled himself off and brought out the deck of special Trumps his cousin Merlin had given him as a gift years ago. Flopping down on the bed, he took the cards out of their case. He shuffled through and withdrew a card depicting a beautiful green-haired woman standing before a frosted-glass window, looking back over her shoulder with a hidden, knowing smile. His mother, the princess Llewella, should be at her home in the undersea city of Rebma. His icy eyes focused on the image. Raven reached out with his mind, searching for his mother's thoughts. After a few minutes he felt a response, and the image on the card began to move.
"Hello, Raven," the woman said.
"Hello, Mother. Your beauty is stunning, as always."
Llewella dismissed his flattery with a tiny flick of her fingers. "Random told me you were in Amber not long ago. Official business?"
"Of a sort," Raven dodged. "I'll be out of touch for a while. I met up with my friend Atrus and decided to join him on an excursion. Thought I should let you know in case anyone wanted to get in touch with me."
Amusement sparkled in the eyes of the woman in the image. "You deliberately avoid them most of the time. Why would you want to change that?"
"You're right, I wouldn't. Like mother, like son," he teased. Neither he nor his mother had any taste for the political games of Amber. He could tolerate the quick-witted King of Amber for a few days at a time"I'll tell you all about the journey when I return to Rebma."
"Until then," Llewella said, and the contact was broken. Raven shuffled her card back into the deck and returned the cards to their case. Then he set them aside and let himself drop into sleep.
A dreamless hour passed. Gentle rapping lifted Raven from his doze. "Seeker Raven, the evening meal is prepared. We would be honored by your presence," said Domu from the other side of the door. A gentle way of saying 'get your fanny out here and eat', he surmised. He rose and dressed quickly. Atrus was already waiting in the main room. No one was seated yet. Domu indicated an empty chair and Raven stood behind it.
Mefe brought bowls of a thick, chunky stew to the table. She set one in front of Raven and one before Atrus, then served her husband and herself. Finally she stood behind her own chair and held out her hands, one to Domu and one to Atrus. Raven linked his hands with the other two men and listened as Mefe sang a verse in some alien language. The liquid consonants and flowing vowels reminded him of the sea and the mist that surrounded this island.
When the benediction was concluded, the Misarans sat. Atrus and Raven took their seats as well. Atrus immediately picked up his eating utensil, which resembled a spoon with small fork tines on the end, and plucked a steaming bit of tuber from the stew. The D'ni knew that the Misarans were waiting for his opinion on the meal, and he was honestly delighted. The native spices blended with the meat juice and heaty flavor of the tuber into a pleasing whole. "Your cooking is without parallel," he said to Mefe. "Truly delicious."
Raven quickly followed suit and bit into a chunk of tender meat quite like choice beef from Merlin's fabled "Shadow Earth". The spices reminded him of oregano and basil, with a faint dash of paprika and cinnamon. "I haven't had anything this good in quite some time," he admitted. "Thank you for sharing it with me."
By the way the Misaran couple smiled as they began to eat, Raven knew he'd continued the favorable impression. Throughout the meal Atrus spoke of the adventures he and the Amberite had shared, focusing especially on their recent battle with Minos, the insane and puissant Logrus-sorceror who ruled over the Shadow/Age-spanning Labyrinth. Raven filled in details, including his encounter with Daedalus, the man forced by Minos to forge the awesome construct. Together the D'ni and the Amberite had made their way through devious mazes, puzzles of twisted logic and lethal traps to the center of the Labyrinth, where they faced down Minos himself. Raven conveniently left out the sorceror's astonishing ability to damage Raven's link to the Pattern -- something he hadn't even told Random.
The second hour had passed. Mefe gathered the dishes and Domu wished her a fond yet formal farewell, promising to return home swiftly. The Councilman led the Seekers back to the Tavern where the rest of the Council was already gathered.
The tables had been pushed against the walls and the Council were seated in a wide semi-circle. Domu took his chair in the center, between Sira and Jeti. Atrus and Raven stood among them. "The Council is gathered. Before us stand two Seekers, Atrus and Raven, come to us from afar to return the Orb of Geda to our people. Welcome, Seekers." As one the Council rose and bowed, covering their faces with their hands, then sat again.
"Thank you for your welcome, Council," Atrus said. "Though I know the story of the Orb and its importance to the people, my companion has not heard the tale. Would you grace us with its telling?"
Domu's eyes shifted to the man at the far right end of the Council's arc. His headdress was formed of leaves of dyed leather arranged into an artful crown. The man's face was lined with the passage of years and his limbs were withered, though he moved with the grace of the young. He spoke in a strong, gravelly voice.
"This is the story of the Orb of Geda. Ages ago our people were ruled by a wise chief, named Geda. Geda was fair and strong, and he loved our people and our land like no other. His wisdom gave us peace and prosperity.
"Even Geda's wisdom could not have foreseen the terrible blight that befell Misana. Plants and animals alike sickened and died, on the land and in the once-bountiful ocean. The people starved, and Geda weakened twofold, in body and in spirit, to see the suffering. Try though he might Geda could see no way to give succor to his people. The birds sang no more.
"Then, as he lay in his bed burning with fever, he was given a vision. If he would sacrifice himself atop the cliffs that overlook the ocean far to the north of the isle of the people, the Higher World would take pity and bring health back to all. In the dead of night Geda stole from his dwelling and plunged into the sea in a tiny boat.
"Fever-demons within and storm without battered Geda, but he knew that if he failed his people would die. He pushed on, surviving through his will alone, and reached the northern shore. Beaten, weak and dying, Geda crawled his way to the clifftop and collapsed upon the ground.
"'Hear me, o thou of the Higher World,' he gasped as his breath began to fail him, 'I have come from the isle of the people to give myself for the sake of all life. I give my life for theirs.' And then he despaired, for he had brought no ritual knife with him. As his heart broke his tears wet the ground. Finally he died.
"Those of the Higher World heard his prayer and knew that he had sacrificed himself for his people. Geda's tears congealed in the earth and mixed with it. An orb of perfect love was formed, and its light gave breath back to Geda. When he saw the orb he knew that his sacrifice had not been in vain. Taking the orb, Geda returned to the people.
"On that day, not one of the people perished. The next, the birds made their songs once more. The plants flowered in a glorious spring and game and fish were plentiful again. The people praised Geda and worshipped his name.
"But Geda knew that he was no god. He beseeched the people to cover their eyes and gaze not upon the orb or his face, but to feel love in their hearts and trust in themselves and each other. From that day forth the people of Misana have covered their eyes to each other in show of faith and love. This is the story of the Orb of Geda."
Silence had the floor in the tavern room for several minutes as Raven considered the legend. Certain elements of it were common to mythologies throughout shadow -- threats to the existance of the people, a great sacrifice, resurrection and return. Apparently this Orb was real, since he and Atrus were about to go looking for it. What was it really? The only way to figure that out would be to find it. Atrus broke the silence. "Thank you, Council Odei, for imparting the wisdom of the tale to us." The elderly Councilman regained his seat.
On the other side, a young woman barely out of childhood rose. "This is the quest of the Seeker. In four days we will be celebrating one thousand years since Geda's sacrifice and return. Our holy texts prescribe ritual observances for this sacred day. To complete the ritual, we need the Orb. But hundreds of years ago the Orb was stolen from us and locked away in a tower erected on the site of Geda's sacrifice.
"Without the Orb, the rituals will not be complete, and the sickness will return to Misana. Our bravest have attempted to recover the Orb, with no success. Now, the promised Seeker from afar has come to us. The Seeker must recover the Orb of Geda. This is the quest of the Seeker."
Again Atrus spoke after a pause. "Thank you, Council Tilo, for imparting the wisdom of our quest to us."
Domu looked to Sila. Sila rose.
The beautiful woman studied both Seekers, the clacking of her beaded headdress mingling with the crackling fire as she looked from one to the other. "For ages we have have known that the Seeker would come to us in our time of need. But we could not have anticipated that the Seeker would be not one, but two. Seeker Atrus, you agreed to quest for the Orb. Why have you brought this man Raven to us?"
Privately, Raven wanted to see how his friend would get around this pitfall. While he had to admit a fondness for Domu and his wife, in the grand scheme of things Misara didn't mean much. Not only that, but time and again he had seen prophecies come to pass not because the events had been forseen, but because the people made them happen in their fervor. Still, he knew Atrus would go after the Orb on his own if the Council decided there should indeed be only one Seeker, and though he had faith in his D'ni friend's abilities, he'd much rather be by Atrus' side to ensure success.
Atrus cleared his throat and scratched his beard. He'd given some thought to this particular puzzle, but tradition and formality ran strong in these people and he was somewhat worried he wouldn't be able to make all these pieces fit into a whole the Misarans would find acceptible. He decided to try his strongest gambit first. No use wasting time. "Raven and I have traveled together through many lands. Council Domu has heard us tell of our last quest, to defeat a powerful sorceror. Alone, neither of us would have succeeded. Together, we were able to overcome the evil one and save not just one world, but many. I believe he and I are parts of a whole, brothers in spirit if not in blood. I give Raven my love and trust as a brother. I ask you to trust the faith you have placed in me, and trust my faith in him. Together we are the Seeker."
Raven forced himself to maintain a blank expression. Yes, the D'ni's words were a bit presumptive, but that was from an Amberite view of things. Atrus spoke truly. Neither of them would have been able to defeat Minos and destroy the Labyrinth alone. Many times on that adventure they had relied on each other, with no room for doubt. They had proven themselves to each other. His friendship and respect for Atrus deepened in that moment, as did his appreciation of Atrus' skill in diplomacy.
His friend would do well in Amber, he thought.
The council members whispered to each other as they considered Atrus' words. Atrus had appealed to their cultural traditions, following the ancient ways. There was no doubt that he was the Seeker. Raven was an unknown, a stranger to them, though he had been respectful to them all. Atrus said Raven was a part of him, that together they were more than they were individually. If the two men were the Seeker together, splitting them apart would prove disasterous. If they were not the Seeker, it was not said that the Seeker would not have aid from others in the holy texts.
A decision was reached.
Domu stood and offered his hands to Atrus and Raven. "We trust in our faith and yours. You are both the Seeker in our eyes. Tomorrow you will quest for the Orb of Geda, to bring it back to the people. You will leave at first light. Tonight we will celebrate." The rest of the Council rose and clasped hands with the men one by one, then as a whole bowed once more, faces covered. All the Council except Domu filed out.
"Truly well-spoken, Seeker Atrus," the Councilman said. "Even if my mind had been set in stone against this, your wisdom would have freed it from that rigid prison." He turned to Raven and said, "It is my sincere hope that you understand what has been said and done here. Be proud of your brother, as he is proud of you."
The Amberite allowed himself a small smile. "I am."
"Let us prepare for the celebration," said Domu. "Mefe will be pleased."
That evening, a pit was cleared on the common grounds and a blazing bonfire was lit. The people of Misara, young and old, gathered to meet the two men who were the Seeker, to sing and tell stories, and to celebrate life. Even Raven couldn't hope to remember a tiny fraction of the names he heard, one after another. Young maidens smiled shyly at him as he greeted them. Little boys mimicked his courtly bows and laughed at his jokes. Atrus knew most of these people already and greeted them again with warmth and love. He spoke of his travels to other Ages, to the delight of all. Yes, Catherine would enjoy life here in Misara.
Out of the corner of his eye, Raven caught Sila watching him with a critical gaze. Excusing himself briefly he crossed to her and bowed once more. "Council Sila."
"Seeker Raven," she said quietly.
"Your eyes tell me you have private doubts."
The woman mastered a glare. Evidently he'd hit a nerve. "Your cleverness does you a disservice."
"I meant no offense, of course." Not quite an apology, more a statement of fact. He decided to take a different tack. "I find the ways of your people intriguing. I'd like to learn more."
"You will," Sila said simply. Though her expression betrayed nothing, the gleam in her eyes spoke volumes. She turned and walked away, with only a quick glance back.
"And Mother wonders why I don't play with the cousins much," the Amberite muttered darkly. He made his way back to Atrus, who was concluing an ancient story of D'ni.
The bearded man had noted Sila's departure. "Dare I ask what that was about?"
"Anthropology doesn't suit me," rejoined Raven.
"Archaeology seems more your style, yes," Atrus said. His friend relaxed a bit. "It seems that we're going to be treated to something special in a little while."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Domu made mention of a dance of some kind. This should prove quite interesting."
Raven simply nodded. His eyes searched the crowd but found no trace of Sila. His disappointment was brief, but sharp.
An hour later, the children were herded to bed by their parents. The remaining adults and the Council members, including Sila, seated themselves on the grass as a group. Several men and women brought out hide drums and carved wood flutes. Domu indicated that Raven should sit next to him, and Atrus on the other side of Mefe. "You will enjoy this," he assured them.
The gathering fell silent. A lone drummer struck his instrument and a rolling of thunder echoed across the clearing. Again, and again, then he was joined by another, and another in a complex and primal rhythm, like the heartbeat of the earth. Over the ground of drums came the wind of the flutes, dancing, soaring and diving. The music held the listeners enthralled. Raven felt himself carried off and almost didn't notice when Sila stood and glided to stand in front of them.
The flutes drifted away, and all the drums but one fell silent. "Tonight I have asked for the right to explore one of the deepest mysteries of our people. We have gathered here to celebrate life in joy for the coming of the Seeker. To show my joy, I requested of the Council and was given perission to perform the Dance of Life."
Murmurs rippled through the gathering. Atrus only smiled; he had been told about this most sacred of dances during his last stay here. Domu leaned over and whispered an explanation to Raven. "The Dance of Life is an expression of the primal joy we feel in our connection to all living things. We believe that the inspiration for the Dance comes from the Higher World. When we feel that joy surge within us as a people, as we do now, a woman will feel the desire to perform the Dance. It is somewhat... suggestive, at times, which is why we wait for the children to sleep before the performance."
One black eyebrow crept up Raven's forehead. So this is what Sila had meant. His gaze drank in her exquisite features, bathed the golden orange of a blazing sunrise by the bonfire. The single drum echoed again and was once more joined by its brothers, summoning the rhythm of life. Sila grasped her robe and drew it up and over her body to reveal a clinging wrap of shimmering material, which threw sparks of light around her. She cast the robe into the flames turned to face her audience. Her eyes were closed.
Then she began the Dance.
Raven had never seen anything so sensual. Sila's body became an incarnation of the pulse of life, driven by the thundering drums. She caressed the sky, wound down to the ground and embraced the earth itself. Her body rippled with the sinuous arching of the ocean's waves. All this time her eyes were closed.
The rhythm grew faster, and Sila's motions rode with it. She spun, stood on the ball of one foot and grasped for the heavens. The light of the bonfire embraced her body, transforming her into an angel of light. Fire shot across her as her arms twisted like glorious serpents, taking the postures of living things. Her eyes opened.
Sila looked directly at Raven. Their eyes locked. Heat burned inside him like the core of a world. He knew, in that moment, that she was dancing for him.
Again the drums became faster. Sila's Dance became an ecstatic trance of motion, wind across the desert, lightning splitting the sky. Her steps brought her closer to her chosen one. Then, suddenly, the drums stopped.
Sila collapsed to her knees in front of Raven. Her skin was slick with the sweat of her exertion, lit by the fires without and within. Slowly she lifted her head. Her gaze was shrouded by her soaked and tossed tresses. In spite of himself, Raven reached out and brushed aside the damp locks. Sila smiled. For a moment they remained frozen, gazing into each other's eyes.
"This is the Dance of Life," she whispered. Then she sat back on her heels and smiled to her people. "This is the Dance of Life," she said again, strong and proud. "Our joy given form." The Misarans and Atrus applauded as Sila stood. Raven remained paralyzed in awe.
Sila walked away from the fire, followed by Raven's entranced gaze. Domu gripped the Amberite's shoulder gently. "She favors you, Seeker Raven."
The trance was broken. Raven inhaled deeply and wondered if he had breathed at all during the dance. "I... I'm honored."
"As are we all. It is time to rest, now. The morning awaits us." The crowd dispersed to their homes, their hearts full of wonder. Raven levered himself off the ground and followed Atrus and Domu back to the Councilman's house.
That night, Atrus slept soundly, wrapped in thoughts of Catherine. Raven's dreams were haunted by images of Sila bathed in glorious flames, dancing at the heart of the world.
Morning was shrouded in deep fog. Mefe prepared a breakfast of thin broth, a substantial brown bread and sharp yellow cheese. Once they had eaten, Raven and Atrus gathered their few belongings and accompanied Domu down the forest path to the shore.
The mist parted as they reached the fine sand of the beach. The sun, just rising in the east, played across a magnificant white boat anchored offshore. A raft of vine-lashed logs awaited them, as did the entire Council and many of the other inhabitants of the village. Raven's heart stopped when Sila, clad in another brown robe, met his eyes and smiled. Domu clasped each man's hands and blessed them and their journey. "The Higher World has brought you to us from afar. Our faith and love go with you to find the Orb of Geda. We await your return with open arms and open hearts."
Raven and Atrus climbed onto the raft. An invisible force pulled the small craft away from the shore on a steady course for the boat. Atrus studied the craft with a keen eye, taking note of its form. Twin gauzy sails arched up from the sides like the wings of a hummingbird paused in their frantic beating. The prow swept high and proud, and the stern boasted a small deckhouse. A rope ladder hung over the gunwale for them to board. There was no one visible aboard the vessel.
Raven's eyes remained fixed on Sila.
When the raft reached the boat it stopped gently. Atrus grasped the rope and climbed aboard swiftly. His Amberite companion took one last long look at the shore and raised his arm in farewell. Sila mirrored his gesture. Heartened, Raven clambered up after Atrus.
The raft pulled away from the boat, and the gleaming ivory vessel turned north, toward the far shore.