Above the Veil (The Seventh Tower 4)

"We have to time this bit carefully," said Gill. "Wait for the backflow."

"Backflow of what?" asked Tal.

"The crystal," said Gill. "This is forge country."

"Close it, Gill, and see whose shift is on and how long till the backflow," Crow ordered suddenly.

Gill sniffed and edged up to the corner. As soon as she stuck her head around, her skin was bathed in the yellow-blue light, so she seemed to have changed color. She looked for a minute and then ducked back.

"It's the Thrower and his gang," Gill reported.

"I reckon the backflow's not far away. The crystal's already changing color."

Her mention of the Thrower's name was met by groans from the other Freefolk, except for Crow. He simply frowned slightly and kept looking at the spill of light around the corner.

"Who is this 'Thrower'?" Milla asked. "Is he an enemy?"

"Not exactly," explained Clovil. "He's a Fatalist, like most of them--"

"Close it!" snapped Crow.

"Close it yourself!" Clovil snapped back. "Like I said, he's a Fatalist, what you call an Underfolk. They think we're all meant to work for the Chosen, that's the way life is meant to be--"

Crow made a threatening move toward Clovil, who immediately closed his mouth with a grimace. He opened it again once Crow had stepped back.

"We call him the Thrower because he throws liquid crystal at anyone who interferes with the work."

"Liquid crystal?" asked Tal. "What's that?"

"You'll see!" Crow announced. "It's going green. Get ready to run, everyone. Tal and Milla, stay exactly behind us. Don't leave the path."

The light ahead was changing, going from the yellow-orange into a cooler green. When only a few flickers of color remained and the light was nearly all green, Crow shouted, "Backflow!"

Clovil and Ferek suddenly leapt forward and rounded the corner at a run, the others close behind.

They burst out into a huge cavern. Tal had only a moment to take it all in before he had to concentrate on following the Freefolk.

A narrow, meandering path was appearing in the center of a huge sea of molten green crystal that was ebbing back toward the sides of the giant cavern. Heat rolled off the crystal in shimmering waves, but it was bearable. Tal couldn't work out why they hadn't all been incinerated immediately, as surely such a lake of molten crystal would have set their clothes alight at least. Then he saw the enormous, ancient Sunstones in the ceiling and the light that they projected.

The Sunstones were melting the crystal liquid at each side of the cavern, but they were also cooling this central path. Other Sunstones were projecting lines of blue force that stirred the crystal, creating eddies and currents.

There were other safe paths appearing as the liquid ebbed, paths that formed around deep pools of crystal. Underfolk clad in heavy protective robes and boots, hurried out along the paths to scoop molten crystal from the deeper pools with long-handled ladles. Once their ladle was brimming with liquid crystal, they ran back to one of the three raised islands that were permanently safe from the molten mass. On the island, they poured the liquid crystal into a waiting mold and then ran back out for more.

Tal was busy looking at what the Underfolk were doing and didn't realize he'd fallen behind until he heard Gill scream at him, "Hurry up!"

At the same time, he felt one of the Sunstones above switch off. Without its beneficial blue light the temperature shot up until it was searing. Tal jumped forward and sprinted to catch up with the others, who were just climbing onto the third island. As he landed, his leg spasmed and he half fell, half sat down. He pushed his thumbs into the muscle, grimacing in pain.

"Let me do that," said Adras, reaching his huge, puffy shadow-fingers down. Tal hastily pulled his leg away.

"No! No! You'd probably break my leg."

"This is halfway. We have to wait here for the next backflow," said Gill. "Let's hope the Thrower leaves us alone."

Tal kept massaging his leg and looked out across the cavern. Molten crystal was flowing back across the path, and the light was once again growing more intense. It was cool enough on the island, but Tal could tell that this was totally dependent on a single, very old Sunstone. Looking around, he saw charred, corroded lumps of high ground. There had once been more than three islands, but their Sunstones had failed.

"So this is where all the cups and plates are made," Tal said as he watched the Underfolk on the closest island turn the molds over and tap them to remove the highly durable crystal cups, plates, and other utensils he was so familiar with. "I had no idea."

"You wouldn't," said Crow. "The robes and boots those people are wearing are nearly as old as the Sunstones in the ceiling. Do you know how many people burn to death here every year, just so some Chosen can have plates of different colors?"

Behind him, Gill held up her thumb and forefinger to show "zero." Crow must have seen some hint of that in Tal's eyes, because he whirled around angrily. Gill's hand dropped instantly and she looked away. She was clearly afraid of Crow.

"Dark take it," swore Clovil. "It's the Thrower."

He pointed. Through the distorting heat haze above the steadily spreading crystal, now once again mostly a fierce yellow tipped with blue, Tal saw someone wading through the molten mass.

"How's he--" Tal started to say, before he saw more clearly. The man was wearing the same sort of heavy suit that Tal had seen on the other Underfolk workers, but this one had active Sunstones worked into it. They were wreathing the figure in cool blue light.

"The only armor that still works," said Clovil nervously. "I hope we get the backflow before he gets close enough to throw."

It was slow going through the molten crystal. There were currents and deep holes that had to be waded around. But the Thrower knew them all, and he kept on coming. He carried one of the long-handled ladles over his shoulder.

"Maybe he'll only warn us," said Ferek. He was twitching again.

"He warned us last time," said Clovil. "He'll burn us for sure."

"No he won't," said Crow. "Use your head." He gestured scornfully at Tal and Milla.

"As soon as he sees these two with their Sunstones and Spiritshadows, he'll be licking their hands and wanting to show them around."

Ferek sighed with relief and relaxed. But Clovil kept watching the approaching Underfolk. As the

Thrower drew closer, he took the ladle off his shoulder and started scooping and throwing big globs of molten crystal in their general direction.

"I don't think the Thrower can see too well," Clovil announced as one of the lumps of crystal splashed down twenty or thirty stretches short of the island. "He's pretty old and he's got a hood and goggles on."

Another superhot glob of crystal hurled through the air, landing even closer.

"I don't think he can see the Spiritshadows or the Sunstones at all," said Clovil, his voice growing more anxious as they all edged to the farthest point of the island. "How long to the backflow?"

"A couple of minutes," said Crow calmly, looking at the color of the crystal.

Even as he spoke, a lump of molten crystal crashed down on the other end of the island, exploding into sparks and spraying superhot fragments in all directions. Some came within a few stretches of the group. In response they all pressed up against one another on the far end.

"Adras," Tal commanded, "you and Odris go out and tell this Thrower to stop. Stay above the crystal, and don't get hit if you can help it. Whatever you do, don't try to catch the crystal or bat it away. Since it's infused with Sunstone light it might be able to hurt you."

"Really?" asked Odris. "We're better off staying here, then."

Adras had already started to glide out, but she reached out one billowing shadow-hand and pulled him back by the ear.

"Ow!" exclaimed Adras.

The Thrower paused again to scoop up liquid crystal and then expertly hurled it. This time it splashed down to the left of the huddled group, off the island. They were struck wi

th tiny, falling sparks and specks of molten crystal.

Everyone except Milla and Crow jumped and swatted at the burning specks, trying to get them off their clothes before they burned through to the skin.

"Hurry up, Odris," snapped Milla. The Thrower was scooping up crystal again. "You're fast enough to avoid getting hit."

"Oh, all right," grumbled Odris. "I know you just want to get rid of me, anyway."

She launched herself up into the air, arms and legs losing definition to become more cloudlike. The cavern was so bright that her shadowflesh was well defined. She looked almost like she had back in Aenir, as a jet-black storm cloud.

Adras followed her, but had to put one foot down on the island and give himself a boost to get into the air. Tal sighed as he saw the clumsy maneuver. Disobedient, not too clever, and clumsy--that was his Spiritshadow.

The two Spiritshadows floated out toward the Thrower. He had the ladle out of the crystal and was twisting his body to start flinging when he saw the Spiritshadows coming his way.

Surprised, he kept swinging the ladle back, until he lost his balance. He dropped the ladle, his arms flailed at the air, and then he fell backward--into the molten crystal. There was a huge splash, a hand clawed above the surface, and then he was gone.

There was only the flowing crystal, color already changing to blue, and the heat haze shimmering above it.

"He's dead for sure," said Clovil as he stared where only seconds ago there had been a man. "Even with the suit."

The Spiritshadows returned and grew their legs down to walk on the island once more.

"We didn't do anything," said Odris anxiously. "He just fell over."