A NOVEL OF ADVENTURE
BY JEFFREY BLAIR LATTA
Queen Itazara Tal
lead Khomas Khan deeper and deeper into the nighted maze of uncharted catacombs
that riddled the stone core of the island. Close behind followed
Pallin Pol, Fanas Fel and Zhanak Zen.
The three former rebels
cast anxious looks over their shoulders, their eyes white in the darkness,
vividly recalling what had happened the last time they had ventured into
these tunnels.
These catacombs were
separate from the ones the three men had followed to reach the surface
with Seagrave, but the jakdaks made their own small tunnels and could literally
pop up anywhere. Left undisturbed, the jakdaks were usually docile
enough, rarely showing their wide, reflective eyes except to satisfy their
curiosity as to the identify of a passing intruder.
But there had been
so much commotion recently, first made by Rayvers tramping about in search
of the princess, then, more recently, by skirmishes between Traykens and
Kamirs. The three men knew too well what carnage those innocent-looking
jakdaks could wreak with their Y-shaped blow-tubes. Fretfully, as
they went, they scanned the stone walls.
Then, abruptly, Itazara
Tal halted, gesturing for her companions to do likewise. She carried
a globular lantern which lent a honey gloss to her slim, red limbs, the
gold of her high, draped collar and loin thong shimmering lustrously as
she moved. With a searching look, she studied the rough black wall
on her left. Finding what she sought, she reached up and activated
a lever hidden in a cleft of rock.
Instantly, her four
companions heard the hollow groan of ancient metal ponderously working
somewhere within the wall. Like magic, a section of stone retreated
smoothly into the living rock leaving behind a star-shaped hole.
Without a word, Itazara
Tal slipped easily through the doorway. She carried the lantern with
her and, for a moment, the star-shape smoldered weirdly in the suddenly
darkened tunnel. One by one, the four men followed after her.
The queen had been
correct: Khomas Khan had known nothing of this hidden passage. As
he followed her down a narrow corridor, he could only wonder how she could
ever have happened upon that concealed entrance in the first place.
He marvelled at her courage, since she must have explored these black tunnels
all alone.
Soon the party came
upon a second star-shaped doorway, this one already open. They stepped
through one at a time -- and then, as the last straightened and look around,
they could only stare in silent wonder and disbelief.
They found themselves
in a vast chamber with a lofty, curved ceiling nearly lost in nebulous,
drifting shadows. The walls were mantled with shiny tiles made of
that same mysterious blue and gold-veined marble not found anywhere else
on Miraya. Like the star-shaped doorways, the alien marble revealed
the hand of the unknown race which had inhabited this island before the
Kamir.
The topaz light cast
by the lantern had difficulty enough illuminating the immense span of the
chamber, but its powers of revelation were further diminished by the fantastical
array of suspended meshmel stones that littered the air like a flock
of black holixes startled suddenly into flight. The glassy stones
dazzlingly flickered under the play of light, while casting dappled shadows
on the ceiling above.
For all its size, there
was less floorspace in the chamber than at first appeared. In the
very centre, a wide pit yawned, as far across as the great throne room,
as black as the midday eclipse.
It occurred to Khomas
Khan that they must be directly over the hanging root of the island.
Cautiously, he strode to the pit's edge and peered down. There was
only impenetrable blackness below, but he felt a crawling sense of unutterable
distance. Recalling that he could no longer fly were he to slip,
he stepped back quickly, then raised his eyes.
On the far side of
the pit, fifty or more large meshmel stones were formed into a wide, level
curve hovering high off the floor. The stones poised at apparently
random distances from the pit. Itazara Tal drifted to his side, raising
the globular lantern as if grandly sweeping aside a curtain. The
increased light trickled along a huge fan of slim, taut cords that slanted
out over the pit from a gold anchoring almost at Khomas Khan's feet.
Each cord fastened to one of the suspended stones, held rigid through tension;
since the stones lay at random distances, each cord was a different length
from its neighbour.
It was some time before
Khomas Khan could think what to say. Finally, inadequately, he asked:
"What is it?"
In spite of the impressive
dimensions of the chamber, his voice sounded subdued -- the stifling effect
of the meshmel stones.
Itazara Tal smiled,
her amber eyes beaming. "It is an instrument called the Handras Harp,"
she explained. "It was built by the race that came before us.
It makes music."
Khomas Khan regarded
her doubtfully, then studied the fan of cords with a new interest.
"A musical instrument? But...so massive?"
"It isn't for making
music as we would make music," Itazara Tal told him. Her clean features
grew suddenly sober, saddened. "As we have always suspected, the
people who built here before us were a terrible, war-like race. To
them, music was not for pleasure, but rather a tool of conflict.
This instrument --" She drifted to the edge of the pit. Khomas
Khan stiffened, aware her slender wings couldn't save her if she fell.
As if sensing his concern, she stepped quickly back again. "-- it
is used to make music which is amplified by this deep pit that plunges
down into the island's root."
"But for what purpose?"
It was Pallin Pol who had spoken, the first time the blue Kamir had ventured
to speak in the presence of his queen. "How can music possibly save
us against the cluster cannons of the Trayken Armada?"
However well he tried
to hide it, his tone conveyed his impatience. It irked Pallin Pol
to be so far from the sight of the coming battle, knowing that the Armada
might attack at any time. His allegiance toward the beautiful queen,
like his loyalty to the princess, knew no bounds; but he could hardly see
how some colossal stringed instrument could help them.
Itazara Tal turned
her amber eyes on Pallin Pol. She nodded concedingly.
"You are most likely
correct, Pallin Pol. It may be there is nothing we can do against
the Armada. With their cluster cannons they may reduce Jinja Khyam
to rubble; I may be grasping at false hope."
She turned gracefully
and gestured with the lantern.
"But, on the other
side of this pit, there is another doorway -- one leading to a vast chamber,
an archive heaped nearly to the ceiling with mountains of scrolls left
by those who came before. How many scrolls there are I do not know;
thousands, surely. The language written on those scrolls was alien
and it required much time and effort for me to learn how to translate it.
But, bit by bit, I have worked through the meagerest portion of that vast
storehouse of ancient knowledge. I still don't even know the name
of the people who left it --" She smiled ironically. "-- but
I have gleaned some little understanding of what this instrument can do.
There is even a smaller version in the other chamber, one intended for
practice; for some time, I have come here in secret and learned to play
it."
For a moment, brooding
silence followed her words. Then, Khomas Khan asked uneasily, "And
just what is it this...Handras Harp...can do?"
Itazara Tal considered
her answer carefully, her lovely features struggling with a ponderous burden.
Khomas Khan had never before seen the queen quite so torn by indecision.
At last, evasively, she said, "Using this harp entails unimaginable risk,
my Advisor. Once unleased, it is a power difficult to control.
It could as easily destroy ourselves as our enemies." She
laughed faintly. "Then again, it might fail to do anything at all."
Again she was silent
for a space and Khomas Khan noted that she had carefully avoided answering
his question. He decided not to press her. Whatever she had
read in those scrolls, perhaps the less he knew the better.
Abruptly, Itazara Tal
glided past him and crossed the chamber with a regal ease. As she
approached the far wall, her lantern light flashed on the gilt rims of
large, elegant wheels mounted on its blue surface. There were dozens
of wheels, of various sizes, without any indication of what they might
be for. But the queen stopped before one of the largest, then gestured
her followers over. When they had reached her side, she instructed
Khomas Khan to turn the wheel.
After her ominous words
before, he felt some trepidation, but did as she bid him. The wheel
rotated easily, proof of the expert craftsmanship which had gone into it.
Again, the party heard the groaning of ancient gears somewhere within the
wall...
Then they gaped in
amazement.
On the floor a small
hole opened through which a shaft of ghostly light shot upwards in a bluish
column speckled with shimmering dust. Instantly, the air was woven
with a magical skein of crisscrossing beams as the light reflected back
and forth, over and under, again and again amongst the polished glass surfaces
of the innumerable meshmel stones. The four men stared awestruck
by the breathless faerie beauty of the effulgent display -- and their amazement
grew to see the wide swath where the light finally played on the wall above
the wheels.
In that one portion
of wall, the blue stone gave way to a pure white marble. On that
marble, an image appeared, as sharp and vivid as if a hole had been cut
through the wall and the island's core beyond had vanished, allowing them
to peer out as if through a window.
With remarkable calm,
Itazara Tal explained: "I do not entirely understand how it works, but
it seems these meshmel stones have been specially polished, their
surfaces shaped to a precise curvature, then each stone was positioned
to bounce and magnify the light reflected from outside by other mirrors
hidden in the floor. The result is an image transmitted to us from
beneath Eukara. By rotating some of these other wheels, we
can adjust the image and alter the view."
Khomas Khan's accustomed
impassivity deserted him for a moment.
"It is incredible,"
he stammered, stumbling back to better view the raised image. "To
position all those stones --"
He faltered, his eyes
flaring with sudden horror. Following his gaze, the others looked
up at the ghostly image.
Fanas Fel was the first
to speak. "The Armada," he breathed...
