Sky Trillium. Julian May
Isle seemed to be taking hours, leading from cavern to cavern, moving ever deeper into regions of frigid darkness. At last, after they had traversed a cramped, stalactite-fanged tunnel, the Lercomi led the Archimage into a chamber very different from the others. It was full of icy mist that was suffused with a rich blue glow, swirling and billowing like phantom draperies and concealing details of the cave’s interior.
‘There,’ said the aboriginal spokesman, pointing toward the indistinct source of the illumination. ‘The Lady is there.’
‘Iriane?’ Haramis’ call was hesitant. She went toward the hazy light, stepping gingerly on the frost-cracked rock floor. All at once the mist thinned, and she saw ahead of her a sight that brought her up short, exclaiming with amazement.
Row upon row of the Lercomi stood in silence, with bowed heads, before what Haramis at first thought was a colossal glowing sapphire. The object was twice her height, with a darker heart. Coming closer, she found she had been mistaken in thinking it a gem.
Within the blue transparency was the ample form of a woman, standing upright. She wore an indigo gown spangled with tiny jewels that pricked out graceful designs of marine growth. A filmy cape of midnight blue fell from two pearl brooches at her shoulder. Her dark hair was elaborately dressed in coils and rolls, held in place by ornate shell combs and hairpins with pearls at the ends.
The plump arms of the Archimage of the Sea were extended in motionless, futile appeal. Her open mouth seemed to have been frozen in mid-scream and her eyes glittered with terror.
’O Triune God, no,’ Haramis whispered.
‘Yes. Ah, yes!’ the Lercomi Folk wailed in heartbroken response.
Haramis ran forward to what she thought was a glass case imprisoning her friend. As she touched it she discovered the truth.
The Blue Lady’s eyes moved, ever so slightly.
She was entombed within a great chunk of blue ice. And she was alive.
‘Who has done this?’ Haramis asked Ansebado, after some time had passed, during which she tried without success to free Iriane.
‘Four humans,’ the First of the Lercomi declared, ‘came in a small sailboat to our village on Sundown Isle, which is half a day from here by water. Three were men and one was a woman, and they demanded that we summon the Blue Lady.’
‘When did this happen?’
‘Nearly twelve moons ago. We were most astonished, for the only people of your kind that we ever see are the Feathered Barbarians – and they come very seldom to trade for fireshell, gold, and precious fish-scale, and never during the stormy time of year.
‘These human persons were lofty in demeanour and atrociously rude. Each one wore a Star hanging on a chain. When we asked their reasons for wanting audience with the Lady they did not answer, but instead killed several of our old people by means of awesome magic. They repeated their demand, threatening to destroy our children next, and then all of our tribe if we did not hasten to do their bidding. We had no choice but to give in. No choice! Do you understand, White Lady?’
Haramis said nothing. The Mereman continued:
‘We explained that our Blue Lady’s magical portal is here, in Flyaway Isle. The strangers compelled the three of us to bring them here to the cave. Then … this one made the perfidious Call. As First of the Lercomi, it was my melancholy duty. But if I had known what would happen, I would have begged those brutes to slay us all instead.’
He began to weep, and the Second and Third also, and in another minute the entire crowd of little people in the blue misty cavern howled and sobbed in contrition, striking their crested heads on the ground. Haramis calmed them and commanded that the rest of the story be told.
Ansebado said, ‘No sooner had the Archimage of the Sea stepped from her enchanted door (which lies right behind her, even now) than the awful deed was done. The female stranger, one having flame-coloured hair, used a magical device that sprinkled the poor Lady with some gelid astral liquid. She froze instantly. Further sprinkling produced the blue ice-block that you see. No fire can melt it. No prayer can banish it. Not even your own magic can overcome it! The name of the Lercomi Mere Folk will stink throughout the Sea Realm forever, for we have condemned our dear Blue Lady to living death.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Haramis said none too kindly, lifting her talisman to forestall another mournful hubbub. ‘This ice is not true magic, but something else appertaining to the Vanished Ones and their science. I cannot free the Blue Lady now, but perhaps a way might be found.’
Ansebado and his people fell on their faces to thank her, but she ordered them to arise, pull themselves together, and answer more questions.
Haramis learned that the human villains were all dressed in the silver-and-black robes of the Star Guild. They were none of them above thirty years in age, were of differing stature, and all save the redheaded woman had hair of grizzled grey or dull white. Each Star Guildsman carried a dissimilar ancient weapon: one killed by boiling the blood, another threw forth a deadly small thunderbolt, the third provoked fatal convulsions, and the fourth, much larger than the others and more complex in aspect, had ensorcelled the Blue Lady.
‘The malefactors stayed with us for several days,’ Ansebado said, ‘questioning us about the underwater regions hereabouts where the Vanished Ones once flourished. Then another sailboat came with two more Star Men. One of them was young, of no special distinction save for his loud and bullying speech. But the other human was different from all the rest. He was much older, and he wore a many-rayed starburst headpiece of silvered leather that concealed his upper face while leaving the back of his head uncovered. His long hair was as pale as the platinum of his Star.’
Haramis gave a low cry. Ice seemed to have congealed in her own vitals. This could not be. Must not be …
She found herself asking, ‘Was – was he tall?’
‘Taller than the others, who gave him great reverence and called him Master. He came into this cavern, stepped into the portal of the Blue Lady, and disappeared. The others waited for some hours, whereupon he reappeared. Then the lot of them got into the boats and went away.’
‘Oh, Lords of the Air,’ Haramis whispered. With her gloved fingers stiff and clumsy, she drew the gold-framed small picture out of her robe and was barely able to ask her last question. ‘And was this the Star Master?’
The little aborigine frowned at the portrait, then replied. ‘His face was partly masked by the starry headgear. But, yes. It was he. He had eyes like that. Eyes like yours, White Lady.’
Pain, born in her swelling heart, was spreading like molten metal through the entire body of the Archimage of the Land. It was a jubilant hurting, mingled with stark fear. She spoke in a voice made unsteady by emotion.
‘Since the Blue Lady’s imprisonment, have the Lercomi Folk visited underwater ruins of the Vanished Ones at the Star Men’s behest?’
‘Nay,’ said Ansebado, ‘but we have heard that other Mere tribes have been compelled to do so. They have gathered certain ancient artifacts coveted by the Star Men, but none of them knows what these things might be, nor do we.’
But Haramis knew. ‘I will come to you again, Ansebado. Command your Folk to watch by the imprisoned Blue Lady until then. Should any person emerge from her magical portal, bespeak me at once, even if you must lay down your lives to do so. Now farewell.’
She clasped her talisman and commanded her magic to take her to Kadiya.
Queen Anigel stared at the plate of food before her, a simple grilled fillet of garsu fish and a helping of glazed dorun tuber, and put down her knife and fork. ‘I confess that Hara’s dreadful account of the poor Blue Lady has robbed me of my appetite. It pierces my very soul to know that there is nothing we can do to free her from that hellish enchantment.’