aborigine eyed the bags with growing misgiving. ‘And what happens to these things when you reside in Derorguila during winter?’
‘I have a safe hiding-place in the ruins just outside Zotopanion Palace where nobody goes. I found it four years ago, during the Battle of Derorguila, when I had the good fortune to acquire this great treasure.’ The boy opened the larger bag and slid out a slender, shallow box about the length of a man’s arm and three handspans wide. It was made of a dark glassy material, and upon its lid was embossed a silver many-rayed Star.
Ralabun cried out: ‘Lords of the Air! It cannot be!’
Saying nothing, Tolivar opened the smaller bag. Something flashed brilliantly silver in the lamplight – a curiously wrought coronet having six small cusps and three larger. It was ornamented with carved scrollwork, shells, and flowers, and beneath each of the three larger points was a grotesque face: one was a hideous Skritek, the second was a grimacing human, and the third was a fierce being with stylized starry locks of hair who seemed to howl in silent pain. Beneath the central visage was a tiny replica of Prince Tolivar’s royal coat-of-arms.
‘The Three-Headed Monster,’ Ralabun croaked, nearly beside himself with awe. ‘Queen Anigel’s magical talisman that she surrendered as ransom to the vile sorcerer Orogastus!’
‘It belongs neither to my mother nor to him now,’ Tolivar declared. He placed the coronet upon his own head and suddenly his slender body and plain small face seemed transfigured. ‘The talisman is bonded to me by the star-box, and anyone who touches it without my leave will be burnt to ashes. I have not yet fully mastered the Three-Headed Monster’s powers, but some day I shall. And when that time comes I will become a greater wizard than Orogastus ever was.’
‘Oh, Hiddenheart!’ Ralabun wailed.
But before he could continue, the boy said, ‘Remember your oath, old friend.’ Then he removed the coronet from his head and replaced it and the star-box in their bags. ‘Now come along. Perhaps we can get home before it begins to rain again.’
‘Now!’ Kadiya cried out. ‘Take them!’
The huge web woven of tanglefoot fell, the scores of ropes that had supported it cut at the same moment by the crew of Nyssomu high in the kala trees. It was deep night, but a searing bolt of lightning lit the moment of the net’s landing on the floor of the swamp forest and dimmed the orange-glowing eyes of the startled Skritek war-party.
The ambush had been successful. More than forty of the monstrous Drowners, suddenly trapped in tough, gluey meshes, roared and shrieked amidst the rolling thunder. They tore ineffectually at the web with their tusks and claws, lashing their tails and wallowing on the muddy ground as they became hopelessly entangled. Musk from their scaled hides arose in a noxious cloud. It did not deter their captors from driving long barbed stakes into the soggy soil, securing the net’s edges. Those Nyssomu who were not engaged in the task capered about, popping their eyes out on stalks in mockery of their ancient foe, cheering and brandishing blow-pipes and spears.
‘Yield to me, Roragath!’ Kadiya demanded. ‘Your scheme of invasion and brigandage is finished. Now you must pay the penalty for violating the Truce of the Mazy Mire.’
Never! the Skritek leader retorted in the speech without words. He was a gigantic creature, nearly twice her height, and still stood upright with the sticky meshes clinging to his body. The Truce no longer hinds us. And even if it did, we would never surrender to a puny human female. We will fight to the death rather than yield!
‘So you do not recognize me, treacherous Drowner,’ Kadiya murmured. She turned to a sturdy little man of the Folk who stood just behind her. ‘Jagun. It seems that the night-sight of these addlepate truce-breakers is as weak as their wits. Let torches be brought to enlighten them.’
It had begun to rain heavily again. But at Jagun’s command several members of the Nyssomu force struck fire-shells and ignited pitch-dipped bundles of reeds, which they took from their knapsacks and stuck onto long sticks. The captured Skritek warriors hissed and bellowed defiance as flame after flame sprang to life, illuminating the turbulent scene in the clearing. Then, as torchbearers converged upon Kadiya and she slipped off her hoodcape, ignoring the downpour, the monsters fell silent.
She was a woman of medium stature but seemed tall among her cohort of diminutive Nyssomu. Her hair was russet, bound into a tight crown of braids. She wore a cuirass of golden scale-mail over leathern forester garb much like that of her companions, and on her breast was the sacred Black Trillium emblem. Each petal of the Flower bore a gleaming eye – one golden like that of the Folk, one deep brown like Kadiya’s own, and one pale silvery-blue with odd glints in its dark pupil, and this last eye belonged to the Vanished Ones.
Now we know you, the chief of the Drowners admitted with reluctance. You are the Lady of the Eyes.
‘And I am also Great Advocate of all Folk, including you foolish Skritek of the Southern Morass. How dare you invade and pillage these lands of the Nyssomu Folk in violation of my edict? Answer me, Roragath!’
We do not accept your authority! Besides, one greater than you has revealed the truth to us about your spurious Truce. He has told us that soon the Vanished Ones will return and the Sky Trillium shine again in the heavens. Then you humans and all of your cringing Oddling slaves will be destroyed. The World of the Three Moons will be as it was in the beginning: the domain of Skritek alone.
Yes! Yes! roared the other monsters. They began to thrash about and struggle in the net even more violently than before.
‘Who has told you this shocking lie?’ Kadiya demanded. When the Skritek leader did not reply, she drew from her scabbard a strange dark sword with a tripartite pommel, having a dull-edged blade that lacked a point. Reversing it, she held it high, and at the sight of it all the captive swamp-fiends began to moan in fear.
‘You recognize the Three-Lobed Burning Eye that I hold.’ Kadiya spoke with an awful calmness. Raindrops streamed unheeded down her face and sparkled like gems on her armour. ‘I am the custodian of this true talisman of the Vanished Ones. It can decide in an instant whether or not you have the right to flout me. But understand this, you Drowners of the Southern Morass: If you are judged and found guilty of sedition, the Eye will engulf you in magic fire and you will perish miserably.’
The monsters were muttering among themselves now. Roragath said at last:
We believed what the Star Man said, even though he offered no proof beyond the wonders he worked to demonstrate his command of magic. Perhaps … we were mistaken.
‘A Star Man –? ‘ Jagun cried in dismay. But Kadiya hushed him with a wave of her hand.
‘Falsehoods pour easily from a glib and mischievous mouth,’ she said to Roragath, ‘and fools who are reluctant to give up their old, violent ways may be all too eager to believe liars and charlatans. I know how your people have resisted the Truce. You thought that because you dwelt in a remote corner of the mire you were beyond the White Lady’s governance – and beyond my enforcement of her will. You were wrong.’
The huge Skritek gave a groan of furious despair. Kadiya of the Eyes, leave off chiding us like stupid children! Let your talisman judge us and slay us. At least that will put an end to our shame.
But Kadiya lowered the peculiar sword instead and slipped it again into its sheath. ‘Perhaps that will not be necessary. Thus far, Roragath, you and your band have only been guilty of scattered acts of terror and the destruction of Asamun’s village. Nyssomu Folk have been injured, but none have died – no thanks to you. Restitution can be made. If you atone for your hostile actions and pledge to return to your own territory and keep the Truce, then I will spare your lives.’
The great muzzled head of the Skritek leader remained defiantly level for many heartbeats, but at last it sagged in submission and the creature fell to his knees. I promise