Being the Tale of the Quest for the Jewel of Judgement, the Corruption of Kalaran, and the Downfall of Fiona

Chapter 3 - The Hunt for Kalaran

The departure from the city brought Joshua, Vincent and Isadora hard on the heels of Caine, whose mount proved a surefooted and long-winded beast.

Rolling farmland gave way to empty fields as shadow shifted, though the dark winged form of Caine's raven kept itself ahead of them, guiding them as truly as an arrow in what surely must be the direction Kalaran lay in shadow...

...and hopefully where Fiona also resided.

Caine took the time to pin Julian's trump to his vest, as his clothes shimmered back to his trademark black and green silks, all pretense at subterfuge forsaken. Daggers depended from various sheaths, and a heavy cutlass was slung from his saddle.

Bent forward like a jockey, Vincent rubbed a gloved hand on his mount's neck, whispering words of encouragement to this new beast. His own dark clothing returned, the cut of it looser than his usual court attire, to allow more freedom of movement. As his cape lengthened behind him, he chewed the ball of wood which had been a part of his costume, as it had become a bit of ginseng root, giving up its natural energy before being spat into the wind. Vincent's psyche was bent upon the fabric of shadow, observing the changes wrought by the raven in its flight.

Dark clouds scudded across a sky like leaded glass, and the hunting party descended into a bowl-like valley between ancient hills.

By the time they ascended the far side, the sky was a deep rich blue, studded with diamond-bright cloudlets.

A sea encroached along their path, and soon they rode along near sandy dunes that smelled of brine, the submerged blocks of some ancient structure lost under layers of barnacles, washed by surf to their right.

Seabirds whirled in clouds as the beach grew flatter, the dunes vanishing, and the sea glimmered wetly like a mirror in long salt flats that thickened into marsh grass further inland.

A brisk wind picked up, and the sun descended like hammered brass.

They passed a strange cart driven by some steam engine, it's driver a straw-haired beefy man who looked up with mild curiosity. The back of the cart held round, thick-skinned fruit, pinkish and vaguely resembling the brain of a calf...disconcerting...

..rain sprinked the royals' shoulders as they rounded a large rock, and the sea was lost to sight as they pounded along a sandy track through low scrub trees, hearing the scurrying of small animals at their approach...

..The sky darkened, then lightened, and the ground grew rockier, the foliage drier, the air warmer.

The sun was a golden beacon high above, and the grass was brown under a summer sky. Caine held their course, the raven circling above now and again to permit the horses to catch up.

..Then the sea was back, as they came abreast a hillock, a small nanny goat bleating as she trotted out of their path.

Turquoise and chaldean blue, the sea carved small grottos in the rocky cliffs below and beyond, a land of hills and olive trees, small dry meadows and mediterranean clarity...

They find themselves in a peaceful, sheltered cove. The sea is a rich seep blue, and small white-flecked furrows of waves roll in gently. The narrow strand has a sand that is white gold, almost brilliant beneath the sun that is high overhead in an azure sky. The whole place has a deep peacefulness that is very relaxing.

All around, green woods seem to come almost to the sea itself ... a rich green that suggests some Mediterranean type climate. And beneath is lined with the soft glossy leaves on low-growing laurel.

Suddenly ... a strange harsh "clonking".

They turn their heads, and see, standing on a small promontory above their heads, a white billy goat wearing a heavy metal bell around his neck, and looking down at them with interest.

"Mmmaaa," says the goat, seeming to watch the strangers with interest.

Even more interesting, behind the animal, they can see a temple of purest white at the very top of the hill that overlooks the bay ... a vast Doric temple of white marble columns - the only sign of human artifice in the entire landscape.

There is a clear path ... it winds through the myrtles up the side of the hill towards the temple ... although it twists so much it is hard to see whether it actually reaches the temple or not.

Underfoot, the path is the same white gold sand that forms the beach, although it seems to become more rocky further up.

And a warm breeze streams through the air ... lifting and catching at their clothes. As it caresses them, their clothes seem strangely drained of colour ... The breeze dies, and the garments settle about them once more - but changed.

All of them, including Isadora, find themselves wearing short tunics of the style favoured in Ancient Greece on Shadow Earth (and numerous other Shadows too). Over these tunics are swathed warm cloaks of fine wool.

A clattering nose comes from where Caine stands. His myriad daggers have not vanished, but suddenly fall to the ground, their sheaths having vanished (although the cutlass remains on his back ...) This might make the others hastily explore their own arrangements .... They all find their chosen sword worn on their belt ... which also holds a small pouch, with a few needments (and their trumps). Like Caine, any other weapons now fall at their feet.

On their feet, in place of their normal boots, are sturdy sandals ... actually, far more practical for ascending the sandy path. As they begin to do ...

They see no people as they climb - in fact nothing save a few more goats, who appear vaguely interested in their progress ... all with the same loud clonking bells.

Then, as they approach the rim of the hill, there in a little dell, they find a pen full of glossy and handsome pigs. Strangely enough, they all appear to be boars. And they have a distinct air of melancholy.

Passing them, a final short, steep rise brings the travellers to a flat open plain ... dominated by the vast white temple. Low wide steps lead up to the colonnade of vast Doric columns ... each thirty feet in height.

The frieze around the Temple is remarkable ... and strange. If they take a moment to look at the metopes, they will see that they depict a strange story. Three godlike figures engaged in some strange and arcane struggle - with each other ... and with something else - one of whom is clearly Fiona, another of whom seems to be Bleys ... and the third? Caine will recognise this one ...

And inside the Temple, they can see, is a vast open space leading to a darkened area at the far end, where there seems to be some sort of inner room or shrine within the temple. As they approach the colonnade, they hear a faint, sweet music, and looking up they see that wind chimes, some vast, some tiny, have been hung high between the Doric columns, and it is from these that the music comes.

Joshua having retrieved his sword, edges forward to stand alongside Caine. He shifts nervously from one foot to the other, fingering the pouch on his belt containing his trumps.

"I like this not, Caine." he whispers. "I recognise Fiona and Bleys, and I don't see Kalaran. Who is the other figure, and what in the name of the Unicorn is going on here?" Joshua strains his neck, squinting to see more clearly what is occurring ahead of him.

"The other is Brand," says Caine grimly. "A much younger Brand ... before his nature showed so clearly in his features. Vain, the Redheads, weren't they? Gods and goddess ... faugh!"

He spits.

"I mislike this place," he says slowly. "But still ... we must search it."

He looks behind them at Vincent and his daughter.

Behind them, Vincent breathed deeply of the familiar sea air and adjusted his tunic, slipping a pair of daggers into his belt, as he no longer had the boots to conceal them. He looked around warily for any sign of the raven, although it appeared that they had reached its destination.

He hadn't expected to arrive at such a comfortable place, one which was so similar to where he was raised especially, although he saw no reason now why anyone would hide in an uncomfortable place, given an infinite amount of choices at their feet. He glanced at his fairer cousin, and smiled. He had never seen her so attired, and she reminded him of someone he knew long ago. "How are you holding up, Isadora?"

"Joshua, Isadora ... do you take the south side of the Temple. And call us if you find anything. Vincent and I will take the northern."

They all set off ... Caine is twitchy, wary - not an easy companion. He starts when a goat bleats behind him, and then mutters.

They pass a small spring, bubbling up out of the ground, then running away to disappear into a tunnel that seems to take it under the Temple ...

The day is hot, and the water looks cool and refreshing ...

They hear a twittering from the pediment of the Temple and, looking up, they see a glittering golden shape ...

On the south side, there is a cluster of low growing bay trees (about waist high) with twisting paths between them, planted to one side of the Temple. As Vincent and Isadora look at them - and perhaps try the paths - they will realise it is a maze ... but one that bears a disturbing similarity to the Pattern.

It isn't a Pattern though - if they assay a few steps, there is no blue fire, no Pattern sensation. All they hear is the murmuring of innumerable bees and the distant call of doves ... they can even see some white doves from where they stand, perched on the pediment of the Temple. And in the further distance, there are the bells and bleatings of the few goats.

In the centre of the maze is an older, taller bay tree. And it is here that they find two or three deep red hairs caught in the bark - as though someone has come very close to the tree, and rested their head against the trunk ... before pulling away (or being pulled away?) impatiently. Apart from the gentle noises of nature, there is no other sound ... and no-one in sight.

Joshua approaches the tree, transfixed by the red hairs caught in its bark. Moving closer, he examines the red hairs plucking them from their attachment, and holding them up to the light. Then he checks the tree thoroughly looking for any hidey-holes or niches that have been used to secrete things.

When he lifts the hairs to the light, he can see that they are long ... by the colour they would appear to be Fiona's. But the tree itself is a disappointment - its bark is smooth and bare. Standing beside it does, however, give the most glorious view back down to the sea, where they can see the horses they left, still peacefully grazing on the coarse grass that grows beside the strand.

Meanwhile on the other side ...

Caine looks up and points to the flash of gold of the pediment.

"Look!" he says. "That's Goldenwing - Kalaran's dragonet. Why would he leave his Master, I wonder?

"But it tells us that the boy made it this far. Now for the Temple itself."

With his companion, he makes his way round to the other side. Once they are re-united he asks, "Any sign of anything?"

"Goldenwing is here," he adds, "which argues that his Master cannot be far. We had better explore the Temple itself. And with care."

He leads them up the broad low steps and into the Temple.

The Temple is deserted. To one side there are scattered garlands of deep red roses ... woven into long strands with vines. They might once have decked a statue ... or revellers. Now they have been thrown aside ... and are already wilting, more than half dead.

Up ahead is a small shrine. There is a closed wooden door - but apart from that it seems to be a sealed marble box within the heart of the Temple ... almost like a mausoleum.

As they approach the door, they are startled by an appalled squawk from overhead. Looking up, they see Goldenwing watching them, his wings beating wildly with fear.

Joshua nods to Caine, draws his sword and approaches the door, ignoring the squawk from overhead. Watching carefully to where Caine positions himself, Joshua pushes on the door. Gently at first, slowly, then with more force to open it fully.

The door refuses to yield at all.

Caine shakes his head. "That's not the way. Brute force will never defeat Fiona. Guile, cunning, those were ever her tricks. There'll be another way ... "

Vincent held Rashfelt before him, and stayed behind the others closer to the door. He scanned the interior of the temple, and watched Goldenwing carefully as they door was tested. While he watched the dragonet, he sought to reach out to it... to get a feel for where its owner might be and the state of its agitation.

But all he can sense is the little dragonet's dark, blind panic.

Something has scared the creature so very badly that there is no other thought but that in his head ...

Caine looks up at the creature and purses his lips as though for a long whistle.

"I don't like this at all," he says soberly, and with a rare honesty. "I think we have come to the heart of the matter ... and I can only hope that Fiona isn't sitting somewhere close by, laughing at our foolishness ... "

"Have you found a way to open the door yet?" he asks.

Vincent remained silent, as he made a slow circuit of the inner wall of the temple, searching intently for hidden latches or doors, while simultaneously attempting to shift the lock on the door...

There were no hidden latches or doors to be seen. One could almost believe that the smooth white walls were carved from a solid block of marble, so smooth and unblemished were they.

And shifting the lock was impossible ... this place was too real. For too many centuries had Ambeites visited, dwelled there, plotted and fought ...

Joshua mutters to himself, partly in response to Caines comment, but partly in frustration at the door not opening.

"If it was me, I would have left a key under the door mat," he mutters.

Then as if it was an idea that suddenly struck him, he searched the perimeter of the Temple for planters and decorative urns where a key might be hidden.

Caine laughed derisively.

"You think Fiona a forgetful housewife? If the door has a key, it would be on her person ... "

He paused suddenly, as though struck with a thought.

Sheathing Rashfelt, Vincent turned his attention upwards, and began making gentle soothing noises and calling to Goldenwing. "Calm down, little one, come to me... come to me and show me where our friend is..."

The little dragonet hesitated, chittering nervously.

"It's all right, Goldenwing... you remember me don't you? It's Vincent... come..." he held his left arm aloft, to provide a perch...

The dragonet walked backwards and forwards on the lintel, still with the same nervous chitter.

Then, suddenly, startlingly, he launched into the air.

He swooped low, not to Vincent's out-stretched arm, but to the wooden door itself.

He hovered there, and his little claws raked powerlessly against the hard wood. For a minute perhaps, he hovered and scratched ... then, with another piteous squawk, he pushed away from the door and flew high above their heads and back to his perch, where he chirruped mournfully.

Vincent frowned

"Well," said Caine sardonically. "I suppose that answers one question. The little winged rat believes his Master is on the far side of that door."

Isadora spoke after following the rest in silence. She turned and looked the way they came at the ancient temple.

"One entrance, but surely more then one exit. Unless she is counting on magic to get out there should be a second way in. No good soldier or thief for that matter would have a hideout with only one entrance. The main one would be a trap, but a second one...."

Isadora is going to go back to the main temple and start to check the area for any sign of a trap door. Touching the statues and moving the plants. Looking for cracks in the dust that might look like an outline of a trap door.

Unfortunately, there is nothing. If there is another way out, it must be at a considerable distance from the temple itself.


Joshua shrugs at Caine's words, but moves to assist Isadora in looking for hidden entrances.

"Guile and cunning." he mutters to himself as Caine's words echo around his head.

Then he turns to Caine. "Uncle. She is closer to you than any of us. Where would *you* put the entrance?" Joshua continues to look for a hidden doorway.

"Closer to me?" Caine's lips bare his teeth in a vulpine grin. "That I take leave to doubt - except by virtue of age.

"I believe the second entrance is not near at hand .... she would not want to risk it being found by guards. Our only way in is this barred and locked door. But remember I told you she would keep the key close. I think I begin to perceive where the key to this door is ... or rather what it is."

"Hmph. Your games are becoming tiresome, Uncle. I thought you a plain-speaking man..." Vincent muttered, as he strode quickly back outside the temple. After giving the immediate area another quick scan, he turned his attention to the frieze. More specifically, to Fiona's representation... looking for anything that might resemble a switch... then, on a whim, he began to really study the painting, as one might gaze at a trump to attempt a light contact...


"Perhaps I spoke too plain for you, young Vincent," rejoins Caine. "I believe ... the key to this mystery is Fiona ... and she herself is the key.

"She has attuned the door to respond to her touch. But these things are generally crude - the touch of any part of her would suffice. I wonder if there's any trace of a her on those discarded garlands ... It might work."

His frown suggests he thinks it a long shot.

"Her hair then. The hair that we saw left behind. We can gather strands of it and use it on the door. But what about backup spells? Do you think she would have something else? It might be better if we split up into two groups. One to test the door with her hair and the other to be free of any spell that might go off, so we won't all be trapped." Isadora says.

Caine shakes his head. "If she wanted to enchant us, her powers would reach far wider ... perhaps through this entire Shadow. No .. our strength will come from our union ...

"Now, who has these hairs?"

Joshua at this point volunteers the hairs he found at the tree ... and Caine wraps them around his hand carefully, then takes hold of the handle once more. This time it turns easily.

Caine grins.

"Ahhh ... one does like to be proved right," he says.

He eases the door open ... slowly ... cautiously, his blade in his other hand. When the hairs come in contact with the handle, it turns quite firmly and easily in his hand, and the wooden door opens with only the faintest of creaks.

Through the open door they can see quite a light room. This seems confusing ... until they looked up. There are skylights above the room, cut into the roof of the temple, that make the room light and airy. Nevertheless ... it is still a sealed marble room ...
All grey marble ... except, in the centres of the floor, a pattern is laid out ... the maze pattern that they saw in the paths between the bay trees outside ... As they step towards it, there is a slight creak behind them ... followed by a SLAM! If they turn round, they will see that the door has slammed shut behind them ... And ahead of them, in the plain marble box of a room, is the maze ....

"We have little choice, I fear," says Caine grimly. "For where has Finona ever been save at the heart of the maze with her mysteries?"

He moves forward to the maze and begins to walk it ...

As they follow Caine, they become aware of an odd sensation ... It feels as though they are moving down .. as well as forward. They look up and sees that it is not an illusion - the black marble is so cunningly laid that although it looks as though it is level, it is in fact a steep incine; it actually leads whoever treads the maze deeper and deeper into the earth. At first the walls are still smooth cut marble ... but as they descend, these walls become rough hewn rock. And as they move away from the marble room, so that light too fails. Ahead of them, they are aware of a dim, flickering glow ... And oddly, they can also hear something that sounds strangely like a fountain ...

As they reach the final part of the maze ... they realise they are on a whole lower level. More dimly lit (there are two flaming torches fixed into the wall), but enough for them to realise they are in a small circular cave with rough hewn rock walls. It is an ancient shrine - in such a place did the Sibyls of Shadow Earth light their tripods, inhale the sacred fumes, and then speak wonderful and strange prophecies. Indeed, looking around, they will see a sacred tripod ... but it has been kicked over on one side ... its load of incense scattered on the floor. Yet a faint, heavy scent hangs redolent in the confined air of the shrine.

And then Caine looks towards the source of the fountain sound, and an exclamation from him, draws all their attention. The sound is coming from a small spring that breaks from the rock walls and splashes its way down into a shallow rock hewn basin at about waist height ....

And before this are two figures ... Fiona, dressed in a white long tunic, her face pale, her lips cracked and swollen, her eyes seeming almost bruised. She clutches a broken chain around her neck ...

And confronting her is Kalaran, but a changed Kalaran. Some have seen a similar figure before - Martin. The posture, the claws, the fangs are all too terribly familiar ... And as he hears them and turns his head towards them, they see his strange eyes, a sheen of silver.

But most terrifying of all, it is recognisably still Kalaran ... and, from a broken chain, he holds the Jewel of Judgement in his hand ...

 

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