LC02 Crystal Flame Page 21

  “It doesn’t take much to make you edgy, Trade Master,” Kalena said with a small grin. “The least little thing will do it sometimes. No wonder they call you Fire Whip.” She followed him into the simply furnished room.

  “You don’t seem to be having any problem,” Ridge noted bluntly as he tossed the bags down onto the tapestry carpet. “I get the feeling you’re right at home here.”

  “I think that’s exactly how I feel,” Kalena said quietly. “At home.” She walked through the small sitting area, admiring the simple, uncluttered lines of the furnishings. “How do you think they knew I was coming, Ridge? They say they’ve been waiting for me. It’s strange, isn’t it?”

  “The High Healers have always seemed strange.” As Ridge watched Kalena move about the small cottage, his uneasiness grew. He knew from what other traders had told him that all males tended to feel on edge and vaguely awkward in this beautiful valley. For men there was an unmistakable feeling of being out of their proper element. The valley was female in every sense of the word.

  Ridge had been prepared for the out-of-place sensation, but he was quickly coming to realize there was more to his unease than that. The pull the valley exerted on Kalena was obvious. It occurred to him that she had no real home or family to draw her back to Crosspurposes or even to the Interlock valley. Her aunt Olara didn’t seem to be much of a reason for Kalena to return. A rough and ready trade marriage to a Houseless bastard probably didn’t look like a much better reason for making the trip back out of the mountains. The beautiful valley was a threat to him in a way he hadn’t expected. Kalena could be seduced with lures no mere male could match.

  Ridge swung around and opened the door. “I’ll take care of the creets,” he muttered before stepping outside. The sooner he could take Kalena and the Sand and leave this place, the better as far as he was concerned.

  Kalena was well aware of Ridge’s wary, brooding mood at dinner that evening. He sat beside her, lounging with a kind of challenging casualness on the embroidered pillows. Kalena made no attempt to serve him in the normal manner. They both knew that in the valley table manners were egalitarian. Everyone helped herself to the platters of beautifully prepared vegetables, bowls of soup and delicate binda egg dishes. Kalena was quite sure Ridge knew how to fill his own plate from the main trays even if he was surrounded by females.

  He hesitated for an instant as the food was presented to him, slanting Kalena a speculative glance. But when she made no move to do her wifely duty, he calmly helped himself to what he wanted. Kalena smiled brilliantly and reached for a platter of jellied binda eggs.

  “I knew you could do it if you tried,” she murmured for his ears alone.

  “This place is having a bad influence on your table manners.”

  “An interesting observation. Might change them forever. Perhaps you’d better get used to serving yourself. I rather like the new style.”

  “I can tell.” He poured himself some wine. “What about the traditions, Kalena? Don’t they mean anything to you?”

  “I’m more interested in starting new traditions, I think. In any event, you’re a fine one to talk of traditions. You weren’t exactly born into them.” As soon as the words left her lips, Kalena regretted them. She lowered her eyes at once and apologized. “I’m sorry, Ridge. I meant no insult.”

  “There was no insult,” he told her roughly. “You spoke only the truth. What you forget is that some traditions have greater meaning for those of us who had to survive without them.”

  “Or for those such as my aunt who had only traditions to hold them together,” Kalena said with a sigh.

  Ridge picked up his fingerspear and lapsed back into silence as the conversation flowed around the six or seven large, round tables that were arranged in the simple room. Kalena ignored them, concentrating on adjusting her normal, kneeling position to something more comfortable. The idea of sprawling like a man at table was novel. It was also rather difficult when one had spent her whole life eating in the kneeling position. Kalena found herself shifting position several times.

  “What in the name of the Stones is the matter with you?” Ridge growled at one point just after she wriggled into another new position. “Can’t you sit still?”

  “I’m trying to get comfortable,” she hissed softly.

  “Try sitting the way you normally do,” Ridge advised sardonically.

  No one else is sitting like that. And after all these years, I’m tired of sitting that way, too. Hand me that platter of cheese, please.”

  He did so with a sharp movement that spoke volumes concerning his irritation.

  “Thank you, Ridge. You did that very well. Perhaps you have a talent in the area of table service.” Kalena fingerspeared several slices of cheese and set the platter back down on the table. The woman next to her reached for it with a smile.

  “Valica tells me you brought the creets and the man with you through the veil this afternoon.”

  Kalena nodded. “It was simple enough. I don’t understand why it’s proven such a barrier to the other women in the trading caravans.”

  “Ah, that’s because it was tuned for one particular woman. You. I’m Arona, by the way. I am in charge of the herb gardens.” Arona smiled. She was a handsome woman, her features strong and intelligently formed, her blue eyes warm and inquisitive. A few years older than Kalena, her hair was still a rich, vibrant black without any trace of gray. As was the case with all of the women in the valley, her body was lithe and vigorous from the endless work in the fields.

  “Arona, tell me how you knew I would he coming through the mist. I don’t understand any of this.”

  “You will learn more tonight after dinner. It is not my place to explain all of it to you.” She quickly glanced at Ridge’s implacable profile. “Nor is it a thing that should be discussed in the presence of men.”

  Kalena noticed that the line of Ridge’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. As the meal continued for a long while, the women asked both Kalena and Ridge many questions concerning matters in the outside world. The women obviously liked to keep themselves informed of what was happening beyond the valley, even though they chose not to participate in those events.

  Ridge answered the questions about the new Hall of Balance and the increasingly sophisticated economy of the Northern Continent. Kalena listened to him respond to the women’s inquiries, aware of a certain pride in his intelligent, informed answers. Her trade husband might have had humble beginnings, but over the years he had clearly taken steps to make up for his early lack of education.

  “We have heard that a ship is being constructed in the port of Countervail,” one of the women remarked. “A very special ship that will be used in an attempt to cross the Sea of Clashing Light.”

  “That’s true,” Ridge confirmed. “It’s being financed by a consortium of wealthy House lords.”

  “What is the objective? Exploration?”

  “Exploration of the lands beyond the sea and the establishment of trade routes,” Ridge replied. “Who knows? Perhaps there will be Healers in those other lands who will want to exchange information with you.”

  “A fascinating thought,” Arona murmured.

  Ridge hesitated, scowling slightly as he discovered his wine goblet was empty. He was accustomed to having it kept full when he shared a table with Kalena. “There are many who think the ship will never return,” he remarked as he reluctantly reached for the wine decanter and helped himself again. “The Polarity Advisors theorize that there may be no other inhabited lands beyond the sea. Some think that the dangers of the voyage will prove so great the ship will be forced to turn back. Whatever happens, it should be interesting.”

  “Very,” Valica agreed. “But all of that lies in the future. Tonight there are more immediate matters that must be dealt with. Would you excuse us, Trade Master? We have a pressing need to discuss business and the future with Kalena.”

  Ridge took his dismissal with good grace, considering how it mus
t have galled him. He glanced briefly at Kalena’s politely composed face, and then got to his feet, maintaining his grip on the wine decanter. He continued to stare down at Kalena.

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” he said very deliberately.

  “I understand.” She did. Kalena met the fierce gold of his gaze and knew exactly what he was saying. He was the lone male confronting a small world full of women who wanted Kalena in some manner which he didn’t fully comprehend. He realized there was a risk here, but he wasn’t certain how to combat it. He knew only that he had to try to exert what small authority he retained in an effort to make certain Kalena returned to him. Perhaps he feared that if he lost her, he lost the Sand, Kalena thought, wondering why the realization hurt. This was merely a trade marriage, after all.

  “Don’t worry, Ridge,” she whispered. “I will do my best to see that you get your Sand.”

  “Damn the Sand. See that you return to the cottage at a decent hour.” He turned on his heel and stalked out of the dining chamber. No one asked him to leave the wine decanter behind.

  When Ridge had gone, all eyes turned toward Kalena. An odd sense of anticipation suddenly filled the air. Valica smiled reassuringly. “The Sand is yours, Kalena. As much as you can carry. There is a fresh supply in the kiln now. It will be ready by tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you,” Kalena said quietly. No one knew exactly how the precious Sands of Eurythmic were made. The High Healers’ secret has been well guarded for generations. The Sand was not a curative itself; its value lay in the fact that it was a diagnostic tool. When burned, the smoke it produced enabled a Healer with the Talent to somehow “see” inside her patient and determine the exact nature of his illness. Then she prescribed treatment, which usually consisted of concoctions formulated from the plants in her garden. One of the first things a Healer-in-training did was plant her medicinal garden. It was as much a symbol of her profession as the little brazier she used to burn the Sand. The smoke could be used effectively by only a certain number of people, invariably women.

  For generations the Healers’ Guild had allowed only those women with the Talent to enter training. The test for aptitude was a simple one. The smoke was inhaled by a prospective Healer and she was then told to “look” inside a patient. She was either immediately able to see the source of the illness, even though she might lack the training to identify it, or she was not. Some women had what was generally referred to as a touch of the Talent, which meant they experienced disorienting effects under the influence of the smoke but saw no clear vision of the illness they had been set to diagnose.

  “I am not certain how to negotiate for the Sand,” Kalena said slowly. “I’ve never done it before. Please tell me how many grans you want for it and I will see if we have enough to make the purchase.”

  Valica appeared completely unconcerned. “The usual price of a thousand grans will be sufficient. The Sand is not the crucial matter tonight. It was merely the lure.”

  “Lure?” Kalena waited, tense with the intuitive knowledge that something very important was about to be demanded of her.

  The other women remained silent, allowing Valica to explain. She took her time, choosing her words with obvious care. “You have, perhaps, heard the legend about the Light Key being hidden somewhere in these mountains.”

  “I’ve heard the tales.”

  “They are true, Kalena.”

  Kalena took a deep breath. “There really is a Light Key?”

  “Oh, yes. There is a Light Key.” Valica’s mouth curved a little sadly. “Do you understand what that implies?”

  Kalena acknowledged the obvious truth. She shivered slightly as she responded. “If there truly is a Light Key, then a Dark Key must also exist.”

  “There is no need to look so horrified, Kalena,” Valica said gently. “For all power, there is a focus of opposition. Surely Olara taught you well.”

  Kalena shook her head wonderingly. “You know of my aunt?”

  “Olara was on the verge of becoming one of us a long time ago. She has the Talent in great measure and she chose not to seek an alliance with a male. Her natural inclinations would have led her to this valley eventually if…other factors had not intervened.”

  “The death of the men of my House. My father was her brother,” Kalena explained unhappily. “And after their deaths came the death of my mother. It was my fault Olara had no choice but to give up her own desires. She did her duty by me and by the House of the Ice Harvest, instead.” Unlike herself, Kalena added silently.

  “There is always a choice, Kalena. Remember that. Olara could have brought you here,” Valica said quietly. “But she chose the path of vengeance. She raised you to be the instrument of that vengeance instead of the fine Healer you might have become with proper training.”

  “A Healer? I could have been one? How can you know such a thing? I have never proven myself with Sand.” Kalena grappled with that thought. “My aunt never allowed me to learn her secrets. She refused to test me with the Sand. She said such things would only distract me from what I must do.”

  “She was right. It’s impossible for a trained Healer to willingly kill, except, perhaps, in a clear cut case of self-defense or the defense of another. But Olara brought you up with the notion that you must kill coldly and with calculation. The act would have gone against your deepest instincts. So she took steps to conceal those instincts from your awareness.”

  Kalena remembered the feeling of a barrier being breached in her mind the first time Ridge had made love to her. “How did she hide such knowledge from me for so long?”

  “Olara used the techniques Healers learn for dealing with troubled minds. There are ways of making a patient forget things that are so disturbing or painful that they are a hazard to health. Olara used such methods on you. She took a great risk when she negotiated your temporary marriage. She must have known that. Apparently, she could think of no other way to get you close to your quarry.”

  “She told me that even though I was signing a marriage contract of sorts, she said I must not sleep with my husband or any other man before I carried out my responsibility to my House,” Kalena answered. She dropped her eyes. “But I disobeyed her.”

  “If your aunt had allowed you to breathe smoke, the barrier she had established in your mind would have been shattered. When you chose to form a physical and emotional bond with the man you were to marry, the act had virtually the same effect. It weakened that barrier in your mind to a great extent.”

  “To such an extent that I failed in my duty”

  “You failed your aunt’s directive. You did not fail yourself. You were not born to commit cold-blooded murder, Kalena, regardless of the motive.” Valica leaned across the table to touch her guest’s hand. “Your destiny is far more complex.”

  Kalena looked at her, aware of the intensity with which the others were watching. “What destiny is this, Valica? I have no other calling except vengeance, and I have had to abandon that.”

  Valica shook her head. “Vengeance was never your true calling. You see, you are the one who will take the Light Key out of its hiding place.”

  Kalena went cold. “No,” she whispered in a tight voice. “No, that can’t be true.”

  “The Key has not been touched for more generations than any Healer can chart. We believe from all our studies that it has not been touched since it was put into its hiding place.”

  “If it really exists, it is not meant to be touched,” Kalena protested. “It is beyond our comprehension. It must be left where it is forever!”

  Valica smiled again, a wary, resigned smile that held infinite sadness and certainty. “It can only stay hidden and untouched as long as the Dark Key is also hidden and untouched.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “We think the Dark Key has been discovered.”

  Kalena’s mouth went dry. “It’s said that if the Dark Key and the Light Key are ever brought close together that the Dark will destroy the Light.”


  “Men say that.” Arona spoke for the first time, a derisive amusement in her voice. “Men are fond of believing that in a showdown, they are the stronger and therefore their end of the Spectrum must be the more powerful. But the truth is their beliefs violate the Mathematics of Paradox as well as the Philosophy of the Spectrum. All things must be balanced by equal opposites.”

  Kalena glanced at her, and then her gaze swung back to Valica. “Do you know for certain that the Dark Key has been discovered?”

  “Not for certain, no. But we are deeply suspicious. There have been acts of Darkness near the mountains. Men have died in strange ways. There have been tales told of the hook vipers appearing outside the mountains for the first time in generations…”

  “Ridge killed one on the trail coming here,” Kalena whispered.

  “Kalena, the hook vipers are fearsome, but they have always feared humans. If they have begun hunting outside the mountains then it is because something has driven them forth. There are other tales, too. Ones we don’t understand but which have gravely alarmed us.”

  Kalena thought about the dark mist that had tried to envelope her in the caverns. “I don’t understand what it is you expect me to do.”

  “Unfortunately, we cannot completely explain your destiny to you, because we are not sure of it ourselves,” Valica said, “We have had hints over the years. Bits and pieces of information have come to us through Far Seeing. Other clues we have reasoned out on our own. The only thing of which we are certain is that you are the one who can take hold of the Light Key. It would kill anyone else.”

  “You can’t know this for a fact! What would I do with it if I did take it with me—assuming it didn’t kill me, too? This makes no sense.” Kalena was feeling trapped now, as trapped as she had felt the day Olara told her she must kill Quintel. But at least after the death of Quintel there had been a vague promise of freedom. The legends concerning the Light and Dark Keys claimed that death was the price any human would pay for touching either.