Sky Trillium. Julian May

      ‘Dead.’ Haramis drew back from the window and wiped a cold hand across her streaming eyes. ‘You are dead, my poor flawed sweetheart. And I am left with nothing but my sombre duty, which obliged me to destroy the only man I ever loved.’

      And now the duties of that office must no longer be postponed. It was time for her to go in search of Iriane, then meet with her sisters. But first …

      She lifted her talisman and looked into it. ‘Three-Winged Circle, show me that which I have been afraid to conjure heretofore: a true vision of my dead love’s face. I am sorely in need of comfort, and the refreshment of my memory of him is the only boon that will suffice.’

      The talisman came alive, its Circle filled with pale-glowing colours. It said: The request is impertinent.

      ‘What?’ she cried in shock. ‘You deny me this simple thing, you cruel, capricious talisman?’

       The request is impertinent.

      ‘Will you drive me mad as well as break my heart? Show him to me!’

      No, the talisman replied, calmly. I cannot show you the dead face of Orogastus because it does not exist.

      ‘What do you mean?’ she asked sharply. ‘I know he is ashes, scattered amongst red-hot subterranean rocks. I ask only to renew my memory of his features. If the world is indeed out of balance, then I must embark upon new and parlous adventures. I – I would fashion for myself a portrait of him as a consolation. And perhaps as a warning to myself as well. Surely there can be no harm in that. I command that you depict for me his face as it was during his last days in this world.’

       Now your request is one I can fulfil.

      The restless eddies of pearly light brightened, became solid. For a moment she saw a head encased within a dramatic silvery headdress, haloed by pointed rays, with two fearsome white stars for eyes.

      ‘No! That is not the way I wish to remember him. Reproduce the face of the one I loved.’

      The vision faded, then reformed. The countenance of a white-haired man, haggard and lined and yet strangely beautiful, seemed to gaze directly at her from within the Circle. His jaw was strong, his mouth wryly smiling. His eyes were the colour of her own – the lightest possible shade of blue, with great black pupils holding secret glints of gold.

      As she drank in his image, Haramis called upon her personal powers. In her right hand she held the talisman. In her left, something ghostly and crystalline suddenly appeared, flat and slightly smaller than the Circle, glittering like an insubstantial gem.

      ‘A portrait,’ she commanded.

      The lens of crystal fog darkened and became a likeness identical to that produced by the talisman, delicately painted on horik-ivory and framed in gold. The vision within the Three-Winged Circle vanished, but the sorcerer’s picture was real. Haramis put it into one of the pockets of her gown, then left the study to make preparations for her magical journeying.

       CHAPTER 4

      After giving instructions to her Vispi chatelaine, Magira, and her steward, Shiki the Dorok, the Archimage changed into warmer clothing and put on the long cloak of her office. Its fabric was white, seeming to change with movement into that delicate blue seen in shadowed snow. The cloak was bordered with platinum bands and had on the back the emblem of the Black Trillium. She pulled its hood over her long black hair, then donned gloves.

      In the silence of her private apartment she prayed for strength and success. Then, standing on the fur rug at the foot of her bed, she took up her talisman again.

      ‘Transport me bodily to that place in the Hollow Isles where the Archimage of the Sea is.’

      Her bedroom dissolved and she seemed to be within some fantastic theatrical set – a cave made of insubstantial diamonds, glittering in a hundred rainbow hues.

      An eyeblink later the illusion vanished. She stood inside a genuine cavern, dank and extremely cold. Dripping stalactites hung from the ceiling like the tusks of a gigantic, slavering beast. Beneath them were inky pools into which falling water tinkled and plopped. Rock pillars, water-sculptured shapes like half-dissolved statues, and other strange formations loomed up on every side. Blobs of glowing matter that might have been fungus or even slime-dawdler colonies were scattered about the irregular surface of the cave ceiling, shedding light on the eerie scene.

      ‘Iriane!’ she cried. But no one answered and she demanded of her talisman, ‘Where is the Archimage of the Sea?’

      As if in answer, there came a sudden splashing from one of the larger pools. Three aborigines of a form unfamiliar to Haramis climbed out, shook themselves, and stood in a row, regarding her with luminous golden eyes.

      They were of small stature, like the Nyssomu and Uisgu, but had the scaled skin of the taller forest races. Their faces were slightly muzzled like the Wyvilo and Glismak, but were otherwise human in aspect. They had webbed hands and feet with stout talons upon the three digits, and about their upper arms were rows of golden bracelets inset with coloured disks made from fish-scale. Instead of having hair, their round heads were adorned with many parallel crests tending from the brow to the nape. These and their large ears were ribbed, like the fins of fishes, with a translucent membrane connection. They wore no clothing, but the scales of their bodies seemed almost like flexible armour of green and dark blue, giving them a neat and attractive appearance.

      ‘I offer you greetings,’ Haramis said. ‘I am the Archimage of the Land, and I seek my friend the Blue Lady of the Sea.’

      ‘We will take you to her,’ the Mere Folk replied in unison. Their language was unfamiliar; but, as always, her talisman let her understand the sense of it.

      ‘May I ask your names, and to what race of Folk you belong?’

      The central aborigine, who wore a necklace of the coloured disks, pointed to his heart and said, ‘This one is Ansebado, First of the Lercomi, and these are the Second and Third, Milimi and Terano, also faithful subjects of the Blue Lady. If you would look upon her, follow us.’

      Look upon her?

      Haramis felt a tingle of apprehension. Could Iriane be ill – or had something even worse happened?

      The three Lercomi set off at a rapid pace in single file, the talons of their toes clicking on the wet stone. The cave air became colder the farther they progressed, and as the temperature fell, the numbers of luminescent creatures decreased drastically. After stumbling several times in the growing darkness, Haramis held her talisman high, bidding the trillium-amber within its wings to shine more brightly and light her way.

      What a dreadful place, she thought. Except for the glowing lumps, this particular Hollow Isle seemed sterile and lifeless, with no sign that thinking beings had ever made their mark upon it. There was no sign of mineral ore or anything else of value, and the aborigines did not investigate such places for amusement, as humans did. What in the world was Iriane doing here?

      Haramis had not seen her friend in some time and realized now that she had greatly missed the Blue Lady’s tart good humour and common sense. The Archimage of the Sea was no otherworldly mystic. She loved good food and beautiful clothing (teasing Haramis for her disinterest in either), and she had been the only one to sympathize truly with her young colleague’s doomed love for Orogastus.

      Haramis thought: Iriane will understand my carrying his portrait, too, while my sisters never would.

      Because of her vast age and experience, the Blue Lady would almost surely know whether there was any possibility that the Vanished Ones might return – as the young Star Man had told the Skritek – and what the so-called Sky Trillium portended. Iriane might even be able to obtain the counsel of the mysterious Archimage of the Firmament concerning the rebirth of the Star Guild. The enigmatic Dark Man in the Moon had only grudgingly lent assistance during the late war, and he had ignored every attempt of Haramis