Bennem gave a kind of grunt and nodded a fraction. He seemed about as friendly as Crow. Now that he was closer, Tal thought he wasn't old enough to be Crow's father. Perhaps he was an older brother.
Jarnil kept on talking as he led them to the nearest cottage. Surprisingly, inside the door there were steps leading down to a comfortable, Sunstone-lit cellar room that was much larger than the cottage above it. A thick red rug in the center of the room was surrounded by low cushions of white and gold. Jarnil sat down and gestured to everyone to sit as well. They all did so, except for Ebbitt, who prowled around the outside, and the Spiritshadows, who floated up to the ceiling to circle the Sunstone set there.
"Where was I?" continued Jarnil. "There is sweetwater in the jugs over there. Help yourselves. Ah, yes. There have always been some Chosen who believe that the Underfolk are no different than we are, save for the accident of their birth. Why should they be kept in ignorance of Sunstone magic, and of Aenir? We called ourselves the Sharers of Light. Similarly, there have always been some Underfolk who have questioned why they should be servants of the Chosen. Though there is some, ah, variation in their aims, they generally call themselves the Freefolk. Together, we hope to change things so that it is possible for capable Underfolk to rise up to Red and become Chosen."
"But you will still have your thralls," said Milla. Her tone of voice showed that she didn't think much of the Sharers of Light.
"Thralls?" asked Jarnil.
"Slaves," replied Milla.
"No, no," said Jarnil. "You don't understand. We cannot change everything. Change must be introduced slowly. We are still loyal to the Empress. All we want to do is test and train Underfolk, and those who show potential to become Chosen will be raised up. Then they may begin their climb to Violet."
Tal shook his head. This all sounded like a Lector's theory, not something practical. Even after only a few moments of thought he knew it wouldn't work
"Why were you taken to the Hall of Nightmares?" he asked.
Jarnil coughed and a faint hint of redness touched his cheeks.
"I made… er… two serious errors of judgment," he said quickly. "Progress was slow in recruiting Chosen to the Sharers of Light, and I had made contact with only a few isolated bands of Freefolk in the lower depths. So I decided to put my plan for raising up Freefolk to the Empress. My first mistake was to share the exact nature of my plan with the Dark Vizier who recorded my request for an audience with Her Majesty. I
was granted an audience for the following day. But that night, I was taken…"
His hands shook even more and he had difficulty getting out the last words.
"To the Hall of Nightmares."
"The Dark Vizier?" asked Tal. he'd never heard of that office. "Who is that?"
"What are they teaching in the Lectorium these days? The Empress has always been served by both a Light Vizier and a Dark Vizier, one for the day and one for the night. Traditionally the Light Vizier deals with ceremony and celebration, while the Dark Vizier deals with matters less pleasant, those best left unseen in darkness. The identity of the Dark Vizier is always kept secret, and he or she is disguised as a Chosen of lesser rank, while secretly holding the highest rank in the Violet Order. As is traditional, I met the Dark Vizier in a room where I stood in brilliant light and he in darkness. It was there I made my second mistake…"
"What was that?" asked Tal as Jarnil stopped speaking and stared into the distance.
"I looked back at the doorway as I left," said Jarnil. "The Dark Vizier was careless. He had stepped half out of the shadow, so that the light fell upon his face. I recognized him, and I was fool enough to show it."
"Who was it?" asked Tal.
"I think you know," said Jarnil. "Someone who can speak with the authority of the Empress, command her guards, make other Chosen do his will, all without Her Majesty's knowledge?"
"Sushin!" Tal exclaimed. "But why? What does he hope to gain?"
"Good question," interrupted Ebbitt. "Very good question. When you find out the answer, let me know."
"We do not know what drives Sushin," said Jarnil. "Or to what end. But he has clearly been working toward some evil purpose for many years. I thought I knew him once, but even before my `disappearance' he had become strange and distant. A different man from the one I used to know."
"He is not a man," said Milla, stirred by the image of Sushin laughing with the Merwin-horn sword thrust through his chest. "I think a Spiritshadow lives inside his flesh. An old shadow that has not forgotten the ancient war between our world and Aenir. A shadow that wants to lower the Veil and remove the darkness that protects us. I am sure of this, and I will tell the Crones, so that we Icecarls can do what must be done. I must go back to the Ice."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Silence greeted Milla's words, but it was the silence of disbelief, rather than shock. Jarnil even smiled a little, the same smile Tal had seen when a Chosen gave a particularly stupid answer in the Lectorium.
Tal opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Half of him wanted to protest, to say that Milla was mad, that she had no idea what she was talking about. But the other half wanted to scream out, "Listen to her!"
What she had said did make sense. Maybe Zicka the lizard in Aenir had been telling the truth about an ancient war between the Aenirans and the peoples of the Dark World--Chosen and Icecarls. Something was being done to the Veil, something that Tal's own father had been caught up in, as
Guardian of the Orange Keystone. But what was a Guardian? What did the Keystones do?
Tal was about to ask a question about Keystones when he finally noticed something else.
Jarnil had a natural shadow. His Spiritshadow was gone.
"Your Spiritshadow!" gasped Tal, his question forgotten. "What happened to it?"
Jarnil looked down, his natural shadow mimicking the movement exactly, better than any Spiritshadow ever could. No Spiritshadow was that flexible, unlike the shadowguards of children.
"I don't know," he said, the pain of his loss clear on his face. "I believe it was somehow forced to return my natural shadow, which bound it to me, and was then killed, or returned to Aenir, or--"
"Or signed on to serve the good ship Sushin," interrupted Ebbitt gloomily. "Or Fashnek."
"What?" asked Tal. "You mean they took your Spiritshadow and made it serve Sushin?"
"I fear so," said Jarnil. "Fashnek certainly had more than his own Spiritshadow to do his bidding."
"He has three by my count," said Milla. "As well as the one that carries him. You Chosen have let these shadows in, and they will destroy the veil and let in the sun. I must go swiftly to tell the Crones. Who will guide me to the heatway tunnels?"
"All in good time, all in good time," soothed Jarnil. "Let us share our knowledge first. What is t
his talk of the veil being destroyed?"
"Drunkards talk while warriors work," spat Milla. She got to her feet and glared at the Freefolk. "I know what must be done."
"Yes, yes," said Jarnil. "Gill will take you in due course. Do we have plenty of airweed?"
The last question was directed at the Freefolk girl. She nodded and showed the strand that was tucked through her belt.
"The others have more, too," she said. "And there are six barrels to pick up later."
"Airweed?" asked Milla. "What for?"
"Like it says. Airweed for air," said Gill. She indicated one of the bloated nodules. "These hold air. You can tap them with a knife and breathe from them when there is poison air or smoke in the tunnels. That's how we rescued you before."
"Good," said Milla. "Then we will go."
"No!" Tal shouted out. "Wait! Maybe you're right about the Aenirans, and the ancient war and everything, but shouldn't we at least see if Ebbitt,
Jarnil, and Bennem know anything the Crones need to know?"
Bennem grunted as his name was mentioned again. Tal looked at him in surprise. The surprise turned to pity as he realized that Bennem's eyes were empty, that they were not focused on anything.
Ebbitt noticed him looking.
"He was carried to the Hall with a cry and a shout," Ebbitt explained. "Twice he went in, and twice came out. But what went in was more than this, and what didn't come out we'll sorely miss."
"He means that my brother was taken to the Hall of Nightmares twice. His body came back but inside he is dreaming. He knows his name and simple things. Sometimes he wakes fully, but only for a minute or two."
It was Crow speaking. He stood halfway down the steps, with the others behind him. Tal had not heard them come in.
"Our parents did not come out of the Hall," he added, looking straight at Tal. "So you see we have much to thank the Chosen for."
Tal couldn't meet his gaze. He couldn't look at Bennem, either. A strange feeling gripped him, a coldness in his stomach. It was guilt, he knew.
"Tal is no longer a Chosen," said Milla. "He is an Outcast. You cannot blame him for the evil of his former clan."