The Mountain Queen

Part II, Chapter Nine: Brody's Errand

For a long time we were silent, as we made our way back through the torchlit antechamber, into the strait black passage that led dizzyingly up to the world we knew.  When Cressock finally spoke, his voice had a muffled quality—as if the earth itself conspired to suppress it.

"Do I still call you Silah?  Or are you someone else now?"

Cressock had missed nothing.  He had seen me transfigured—in voice and bearing, though not in body—into the resplendent valley maiden who had claimed Arthundel's heart so long ago.  His question was the question that plagued me—but I knew the answer the moment he spoke.

"I'm still Silah," I said.  "I just...remembered.  For a moment."

"And do you remember now?"

I cast my mind back.  The old times were bright, but hazed over with a white mist.  As I gazed, the mist thickened.  With Arthundel falling away behind me, the past was falling away too.

"Not much," I said.  And Cressock was silent for some moments.

When he spoke again, I could hear his smile in his voice.  "A kiss from a god," he said slowly.  "Your first kiss, I imagine.  It will be hard for other men to measure up."

Was this only a wry joke—or was there something more behind it?  My heart pounded in my chest.  I wished I could see Cressock's face.

"And the Queen of the Heavens blessed you," he continued.  "You realize that?  She stamped your soul as an old and a fine one.  In the time of the gods, men would die for such honors."

My own voice trembled in the stifled quiet.  "Have we really seen these things?  Did they really happen?"

Cressock spoke calmly, gently.  "They really happened, daughter of starlight.  And now we know what drew you to the valley.  But Arthundel's love is not your final destiny."  His voice grew even softer.  "After what we have seen, we must look for more."  He was whispering now.  "There will be more."

*          *          *

In the all-swallowing blackness that reigned beneath the earth, I had lost all sense of the passage of time.  Our trip back to the surface seemed to go on eternally, yet I half-expected to return on the same night I had left, so dreamlike and unreal had been my visit to the realm of the gods.  When at last we emerged into the pit where I had first met Arthundel, I was stunned and half-blinded by the rays of the sun.  I blinked, and the light mellowed, and I saw that it was the warm light of evening, sloping gently into the pit.  In the valley around, all was stillness.  I heard the bleat of a sheep in some distant place.

Then I became aware of eyes watching me.  Human eyes.  Furious eyes.  The icy eyes of an enraged queen.

"You certainly took your time returning."

Lysandra stood on the rim of the pit, magnificent, her gown aglow in the light of the dying sun.  She was flanked by Felvin, who looked sick, and Diana, who looked as sour as usual.  As for the queen, her proud, regal posture spoke of anger splendidly restrained.

Cressock stepped forward and gave a little bow.  "A thousand pardons, my queen."  He looked sweaty and begrimed.  I'm sure I looked worse.  But his voice had its usual dancing humor, and the light in his eyes had not gone out.  "When the gods play host," he continued, "even a Drymander does not rush away."

Lysandra's lip curled.  "You speak nonsense."

"The plain truth, your majesty," Cressock replied.  "We have held council with gods this day.  We have met our great ancestor Arthundel, and his father Xiff, whose sin began our line.  We have heard the words of Silda, Queen of the Heavens, and her husband, the god of earth.  We have known their minds, and they have known ours, and it grieves me to report that they will not be returning to grace us again with their magnificence.  They have, as it turns out, their own business to attend to."