Ancestors of Avalon

That last jolt had buckled the floor of the passage in several places. Great cracks now showed in the walls, and in places the ceiling was beginning to give way. As they toiled upward they heard the crash of falling rock behind them, a high, discordant keening that seemed to come from all around.

‘My spirit is the spirit of Life; it cannot be destroyed…’ Tiriki chanted, trying to make that awareness replace the dreadful singing of the stones. ‘I am the child of Light, that transcends the Darkness…’ The others joined her, but their words seemed thin and meaningless in this vortex of primordial energies.

‘Hurry—’ Damisa’s voice seemed to come from far away, ‘I can feel another quake coming!’ They could see the pale light of the entryway before them now.

The earth jerked beneath them. With a crash that transcended all previous measures of sound, the left wall caved in.

The sounds of rockfall and the screams that followed now faded as dust billowed outward. Tiriki’s torch had gone out. She coughed, shielding her eyes. When she could see again, the dim illumination from outside showed her the cabinet knocked onto its side and the acolytes climbing to their feet around it.

‘Is everyone all right?’

One by one, voices answered her. The last to reply was Kalaran.

‘A little grazed, but whole. I was on the other side of the cabinet, and its bulk protected me. Aldel—’

There was a shocked silence. Then one of the girls began to sob.

‘Help me get the rubble off him—’ Chedan dropped to his knees, pulling frantically at the lumps of stone and plaster.

‘Damisa, Selast, Elis! Let’s get the cabinet upright and pull it out of the way—’ Tiriki took one handle and heaved. She felt the others take up the weight and they started forward.

‘But Aldel—’ whispered Elis.

‘The others will bring him,’ Tiriki said firmly. ‘Let’s get the cabinet outside.’ The rock groaned and a little more dust sifted down as they dragged the Omphalos out through the portico. Tiriki looked back apprehensively, but in another moment she saw Chedan and Kalaran emerging from the gloom with the body of Aldel in their arms.

‘He’s knocked out, isn’t he?’ stammered Elis, looking from one to the other hopefully. ‘Let me hold him until he revives.’

‘No, Elis, he has been taken from us—’ Chedan said compassionately as they laid the body down. Through the dust they could see the distorted shape of the boy’s skull where the rock had crushed it. ‘It was over in an instant, without pain.’

Elis shook her head, uncomprehending, then knelt, smoothing the dust from her betrothed’s forehead and gazing into his empty eyes. ‘Aldel…come back, beloved. We’re going to escape together – we’ll always be together. You promised me.’

‘He has gone before us, Elis—’ Damisa said with a compassion Tiriki would not have expected. ‘Come now. Come with me.’ She put her arm around the girl and drew her away.

Chedan bent over the still figure and closed Aldel’s eyes, then traced the sigil of unbinding upon his brow. ‘Go in peace, my son,’ he murmured. ‘And in another life may this sacrifice be rewarded.’ He stood and took Elis’s arm.

‘But we can’t – just leave him there,’ said Selast uncertainly.

‘We must,’ answered Tiriki. ‘But the shrine will be a noble tomb.’

She was still speaking when the earth heaved once more and propelled them out through the portico. As they sprawled on the roadway a pillar of fire exploded upward from the mountain and the Shrine of the Omphalos collapsed with a rending roar.

Muscles and balance told Tiriki that they were going downhill as they struggled onward. But that was all she knew for sure. She jumped and nearly dropped the handle of the cabinet that held the Omphalos as the front wall of a house slammed into the street. Beyond it a second building was collapsing with gentle deliberation, as if it were falling asleep. A dark figure emerged from one of the homes, hesitated, and then dashed back into the falling building with a cry.

‘I can smell the harbor,’ gasped Damisa. ‘We’re almost there!’

A breath of moist air blessed Tiriki’s cheeks and brow. Above the crackle of flames and the groans of dying buildings she could hear the almost reassuring sound of human shouts and screams. She had begun to fear they were the only ones left alive on the isle.

And now they could see the water and the masts that tossed in the harbor. Boats bounded across the dark waters, heading out to sea. Two wingbirds had collided and were sinking in a tangled mass while bobbing figures swam for the shore. As they hurried forward the ground shook as if to propel them on their way. Rocks tumbled from the cliffs and splashed into the bay.

‘There’s the Crimson Serpent!’ cried Selast. The lines that held it to the stanchions on the dock were still fast, and young Captain Reidel stood poised at the stern, shading his eyes with one hand.

Micail – where are you! Tiriki sent her spirit winging forward.

‘My lady, thank the gods!’ called Reidel. He jumped to the dock and caught her as she swayed. Before she could protest, strong arms were swinging her onto the deck. ‘All of you get on board, fast as you can!’

‘Someone, take the box,’ Chedan commanded.

‘Yes, yes, but hurry—’ Reidel reached out to give Damisa a hand, but the girl pulled away.

‘I’m supposed to be on Tjalan’s ship!’

‘It would seem not!’ Reidel answered. ‘The Alkonath fleet was anchored in the other harbor – and everything between here and there is in flames.’ He gestured, and one of the sailors picked the girl up bodily and tossed her into his arms.

Tiriki struggled to her feet, trying to make sense of the confusion of people, bags, and boxes. She recognized the seeress Alyssa huddled in the healer Liala’s arms, and Iriel.

‘Where’s Micail?’

‘Haven’t seen him,’ answered Reidel, ‘nor Galara. We can’t wait for them, my lady. If the headland collapses we’ll be trapped here!’ He turned and began shouting commands. Sailors began to unwind the lines that held the ship to the harbor.

‘Stop!’ cried Tiriki. ‘You can’t leave yet – he will come!’ She had been so certain he would be waiting for her, frantic at her delay, and now she was the one who must fear.

‘There are forty souls on this ship whom I must save!’ exclaimed Reidel. ‘We’ve already delayed too long!’ He grabbed a pole and pushed them away from the dock as the last sailor leaped on board.

The third great tower, the one that watched over the palace, was falling slowly, as if time itself were reluctant to let it go. Then, with a roar that obliterated all other sounds, it disappeared. Debris exploded into the sky and burst into flame.

Reidel’s ship lifted and fell as the shock wave passed beneath it. Another craft, still tethered, crashed into the dock. The oarsmen heaved and struggled to pull the ship through the debris that bobbed on the dark waters.

Above, the sky boiled in a vortex of flame and shadow and fire fell back upon the already burning city in a hail of indescribable destruction. Damisa was weeping. One of the sailors swore in a murmur of meaningless sound. They had already come far enough that the figures who were casting themselves into the water were silhouettes without faces or names. Micail was not among them – Tiriki would have known if he were that near.

They were passing beneath the cliff now. A boulder splashed down before the bow and the deck canted over, sending Tiriki sprawling into Chedan. He hooked one arm around her and the other around the mast as the ship righted itself and leaped forward.

‘Micail will be on one of the other ships,’ murmured Chedan. ‘He will survive – that too is part of the prophecy.’

Through eyes that blurred with tears Tiriki stared at the funeral pyre that had been her home. The motion of the ship grew more lively as the sails filled, carrying them out to sea.

Black smoke billowed up as the volcano spoke once more, blotting out the sky. In the moment before everything went dark, Tiriki saw the tremendous image of the Man with Crossed Hands, covering the sky.

And Dyaus laughed and stretched out his arms to engulf the world.

FIVE (#ulink_c54dbdfc-e9a0-579e-add3-8c94c4e703e6)

Tiriki clawed her way out of a nightmare in which she was drowning. Reaching out to Micail for comfort in the dark, her fingers closed on cold wool. As she groped, the floor rolled and she tensed yet again, bracing herself for another earthquake; but no, this was too gentle, too regular a rocking to sustain her fear. Exhausted, she sank back limply upon the hard bed, thankful for woolen winter blankets, her eyes half closed again.

A dream, she assured herself, brought on by the cool breeze through the window…

For some reason, she had thought that it was spring already, and that the disaster had come – that somehow she and Micail had ended up on different boats. But here we are side by side, as we should be.

Smiling at the foolishness of dreams, she shifted position again, trying to stay comfortable despite a vaguely dizzy feeling and a persistent chill. Something hard through the blankets…And then, close by, someone began to weep.