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in action until they had called the flitter from the port, tried to
establish contact with a mutual understanding agains tThat .
This began to spell out the truth, Ayyar thought .That had learned of their attempt,
and such an alliance was a danger toIt .
They had gone on to Thanth and wrought there after the immemorial Iftin fashion. An
dThat 's answer must be this sweep of off-worlders, this ingathering of each and every person
or thing with which the Iftin might make common cause. But again and again his logic struck
head-on against the one question he could not answer what did the Iftin possess which was
so feared byThat ?
Once a hero of the Iftin blood had gone t oThat and forced a restraining Oath uponIt ,
an Oath that was repeated again at a later date and that heldIt impotent inIts own place.
ThenIt broke the Oath, and the Iftin of the latter day could not stand againstIts might. So
Iftcan fell before the Larsh. But couldIt still fear that Oath; wasIt now preparing an army of
"Larsh" to make an end to all opposition?
The Oath! If there had ever been a history of what it was and how Kymon had
administered it to
the Enemy that secret had been so enfolded in legend that Iftin of a later day could not learn
it. Ayyar had entered the burrows, he had found the plugged stairway, he suspected that
below that lay the lair o fThat
. This much he could offer those he sought now but no more.
Illylle he must find Illylle. Then they would cross the Waste, reach the sea and the
others. It would be hard to speak of failure, but that was all he could carry them, save a true
account of all he had seen. And the others, one of them might have knowledge from the days
before he became a changeling that would enable them to make a plan
Ayyar was very tired. It seemed that with every limping step more of his energy drained
from him. Perhaps that power or strength had been given him for only one purpose. And
since he had not achieved that, it seeped from him as did the blood stiffening his improvised
bandage.
He had to depend mostly on his hearing or sense of smell for a warning, keeping his eyes
closed to the glare, though he believed it was now well into afternoon. Night how he longed
for the coolness, the dim comfort of night. How long it had been since he slept through the
heat of day he could not remember. Watch now he must watch lest he miss the turn to the
valley where the true trees grew.
"Illylle?" He tried to call with his mind, as he shaped her name with dry, cracked lips.
Hunger and thirst grew in proportion to his waning power. There was no answer, no stir
deep within his brain.
He searched for the place where he had set a forked spike of crystal as a mark. Almost
he was afraid he had missed it, gone too far, when he sighted it. He staggered out of the road,
zigzagged painfully among the shards. The scent of the wood drew him, promising shelter,
comfort.
Then he lost his footing on the slope, fell and rolled, and the pain of his wrenched
wound sent a sharp red thrust of agony through him, whirling him into the dark.
"Illylle?" Was it his own voice, hoarse and husky?
Dazedly, Ayyar opened his eyes, grateful for a sweet shadow across his face. It was
good to lie there with that green screen between him and the punishing light. Tired he was
so very tired. And there was pain He tried to lift his hand to his body to seek that source
of pain.
Dark the good dark he would plunge into the dark as one plunged into the sea
 Sea!
He must get to the sea with Illylle. The shell about him broke Illylle the sea the
others
It was hard to struggle up. His injured leg was stiff and too weak the first time he tried
to rest any weight upon it. Ayyar clutched at a tree trunk and drew himself up along it as a
man might cling to life itself.
"Great the tree, green the leaf, Iftin need beyond belief!
Strong the tree, stout the branch "
The old invocation spilled from his lips. Not that it held much meaning now. He did not
have the
bark of one of the Great Crowns rough under his hands. Yet the words and the prayer behind
them came to him, and he clung to his sapling as he would have to Iftsiga.
Perhaps his will, his need, aroused in him the dregs of that energy with which Thanth had
filled his body. He was able to push away, to stagger to another tree and another, making his
way in such haphazard fashion to that portion of rock and wall where he had left Illylle lying
in something deeper than any sleep he had known.
He fell to one knee, straightening out his wounded leg, began to work loose the stones
he had left to shelter her. His hands shook, and he had to think of each move, impress his will
upon his fingers, wrists, arms. But it was twilight, and that growth of shadow was
comforting, just as the scents of his oasis of green refreshed his lungs, starved for Forest air.
Four more stones and he could look upon her.
She lay just as he had seen her last, her face wan, sharper of feature, an odd kind of
sorrow upon it.
"Illylle " he called softly, coaxingly.
But those heavy lids did not rise. He could not even see she breathed.
"Illylle!" He spoke sharply, with a demand born of fear.
His hand on her shoulder shook her, and in his grip she turned a little, her right arm falling
limply out, so that her hand rested palm up on his stiff leg.
"Illylle!"
Awkwardly he drew her into the open. She was a soft, limp weight, her flesh cold to his
touch. He sat there, her head resting against his shoulder, her legs trailing back into the
crevice.
Remembering how they had parted he caught both her hands in his, pressing them tight,
willing that that force she had passed to him would now flow back to arouse her. But there
was no answer. Had he drawn so heavily on that store that he could never wake her again?
This was a new kind of fear, different from that which had been his constant companion
since they had left the Mirror. He had feared for their safety and then, after leaving her, for
his own, and now for hers, but to an extent that blotted out all else.
Jarvas the Mirror of Thanth a man, a place, either might hold the answer to her
revival, and neither were close at hand. To reach the Mirror's aid Ayyar would have to take
her there, and he could not bear her across the Waste with his injury. The answer was bitter.
He must leave her here again and get to Jarvas, not with just the news o fThat 's domain,
but for Illylle!
Moving painfully and slowly, but with as much care of her as he could, Ayyar placed her
slight young body back in the crevice, began wearily to replace the stones. He fitted them
with the best care he could summon, using all his skill to hide any trace that would suggest
they concealed something. He did not know whether the servants o fThat might penetrate
here, but it was possible.
When he was done, Ayyar sat where he was for a long moment, unsure now if h
ecould move away. Food drink where was that to be found? And without either he
dared not leave. The green
about him made him wonder dully if some food and water could not be found. Ayyar forced
himself back to his feet, staggering along, pushing through bushes, under trees in an almost
aimless search. He clutched at a bush for support before he was aware of the pods ripening
there. Winter it might be in the outer world, but here was a more kindly season. Fussan
seed! He pawed at the cluster of pods, managed to break one free, opened it and chewed at [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]