The keep of Zhev’Na was far larger than Comigor’s, and very different. Where Comigor had thick walls and broad towers, everything at Zhev’Na seemed thin and lightweight. I wondered how the towers could stand up so tall or hold out against the wind, much less against an assault. On either side of the outer gates to the keep were the most amazing carvings of beasts and slaves and soldiers, all taller than life. I hadn’t ever had a chance to look at them so close, but the messenger beckoned me to hurry, and truly, the carvings were nothing to what waited inside.
The messenger led me into a chamber that was round and huge, with great tall columns around the outside. You could have laid the tallest tower of Comigor across the floor and it wouldn’t have reached the other side. The walls and columns were black. The floor was black, too, and shiny as if it were made of black glass. At first it made me feel dizzy to look in it, as if I might fall through it. And the ceiling… Well, I wasn’t sure the room even had a ceiling, for above me was a moonless sky filled with stars. But I couldn’t see the Great Arch or the Wolf or the Warrior or any other familiar pattern in the stars, and the air around me felt like inside, rather than outside. So I couldn’t say whether there was a roof or not, even though I was sure I had seen one from outside.
Even more amazing than the room itself was what occupied it. Mostly nothing at all for a place so big. But straight across the room from the doors stood three giant statues, two of men and one of a woman, all carved of dull black stone. I thought they must be images of kings or gods, for they were seated on thrones with their hands in their laps. The smallest finger on any one of them was far bigger than me. Even seated, each was as tall as the walls of Comigor. They were the most fearful things I had ever seen.
The woman’s face was old and stern, and her carved hair was drawn up in a knot on top of her head. The only color on the statue was her eyes, which were dark green like emeralds, though I had never heard that emeralds could be so large. The middle statue was of a man with a long arched nose, a wide mouth, and a forehead so broad that the rest of his face seemed small. His hair hung down to his shoulders, and his eyes were deep purple, like amethyst. The third statue was even more fearsome than the others, for it had no face at all, only blood-red rubies for eyes.
I wished that my boots didn’t echo so loudly on the dark floor. This didn’t look like a place where one ought to make noise. The messenger glided across the floor without making a sound.
From deep in the black floor at the very center of the room came a faint blue glow. The messenger motioned to me to stand over it. When I did so, a low hum came right through my boots and into my very bones. I didn’t like it, but I stayed put. The Lords of Zhev’Na were sure to be watching me, and I didn’t want them to think me a coward.
When I turned to the messenger to find out what to do next, he had gone. I waited for a while. Nothing else happened. I decided that if the statues were the gods of the Lords, or their ancestors or heroes, then the thing to do would be to show respect, so I gave a very formal bow, like I would to the king of Leire. When I straightened up again, I almost yelled, for I could have sworn that the middle statue had moved.
The floor was still thrumming through my boots, and the pools of darkness and strange blue light kept tricking my eyes. I tried to watch without blinking, to see if the statue moved again, but I couldn’t hold my eyes open long enough. When I finally had to blink, the three statues had vanished. Or, well… actually they were there… the three… but they were normal size, not giant. They were three people dressed in black and sitting on black stone thrones of more ordinary size.
The woman sat on the left. She looked almost exactly the same as the statue, only the knot of hair on her head was gray, and her hands and face were very pale. Over her eyes she wore a gold mask that covered half her face, each eyehole filled with an emerald.
Like his image, the man in the center had long hair, a big arched nose, and the broad forehead that made the rest of his face look small. His hair was brown, and he, too, wore a gold mask; his had amethyst eyes.
I almost didn’t look at the third person, because I was afraid he would have no face, like the statue. But I swallowed and turned to the third throne. Again, I almost cried out, I was so surprised. He wore black robes like the others, and as I watched, his face shifted in the strange light. He wore a gold mask, too, with rubies where the eyes should be. Even though the mask covered the middle of his face, from his eyebrows halfway down his cheeks, I recognized him. It was Darzid.
“Welcome, Gerick. Welcome to Zhev’Na on behalf of the three of us.” He smiled in his private, sneaking way. His voice sounded different-larger than a normal voice, as if he were speaking into a deep well.
“He gapes like a fish,” said the woman. “Perhaps you should have warned him.”
“He is only a child,” said the man with the amethyst eyes. “Yet he does not flee from us in terror. I read curiosity in him more than anything. And amazement. A good start, I think.”
“He is exceptional, as I’ve told you,” said Darzid. “Blood will tell.”
I didn’t like them talking about me while I stood in front of them. Mama always did that.
“Gerick, Duke of Comigor, come to wait upon the Lords of Zhev’Na,” I said, remembering how important visitors would greet Papa. “Is it the Lords of Zhev’Na that I address?”
The man with the amethyst eyes raised his eyebrows above his mask. “Why, yes. You must forgive us our rudeness, my lord. We are old and forget our manners. I am Parven the Warmaster. To my right sits Notole the Loremaster, and to my left… I believe you are acquainted with Ziddari the Exile, who has so recently returned to us after an immensely long time… abroad.”
I bowed at each introduction, though it felt awkward to bow to Darzid who had been my father’s hired lieutenant. “I wish to thank you all, my lords, for the hospitality you’ve shown me. I owe you a debt of honor, for I’m certain you’ve saved me from brutal murder. I hope to redeem my debt as soon as I’m able.”
“Prettily spoken, my lord duke,” said Parven. “It is our pleasure to grant you sanctuary. Consider Zhev’Na your home, and Ce Uroth as your own country. We think it is very likely that you will be able…”
“… to redeem your debt of honor quite easily.” Now it was Notole speaking. “We are old and selfish, and we do not step out of our way to aid young noblemen-even those so worthy as yourself-with no hope of return. Our enemies are the same as yours, and we hope to join together…”
“… to make common cause against them.” Darzid was speaking now. The three of them took up each other’s thoughts and speech without even pausing for breath, like one person speaking out of three mouths. “You’ve begun your training in the skills necessary to accomplish your purposes-to fulfill the blood oath you’ve sworn to avenge the deaths of the man you called father and the woman you called friend. Perhaps that will be enough for you, and you will choose to return to the soft lands where your mundane king wants to burn you. But if you truly mean what you say about your life debt, then we will give you full opportunity to repay it. If you choose to make a new life here as our ally, then we will train you in other arts, and tell you truths of yourself and of the world that will change everything you know.”
“It will be dangerous and exciting and difficult.” Parven was speaking again. “You’ll have to hear things you’ll not like, and do things that are unpleasant. There will be no going back to what you’ve left behind. But it will be the life you deserve and your own choice. How does this strike you?”
The Lords seemed very stern, but kind, too, and respectful. My weapons felt good at my side, and I liked how strong I was becoming and how much faster I could run now. And, too, I thought of the sun-baked ugliness and the jagged red cliffs, and how the only place I felt really warm was out in that desert sun, sweating and fighting. In Leire they burned sorcerers and killed those who had anything to do with them. “I think this is the place I belong,” I said. “I’d like to hear whatever you have to tell me and learn whatever you have to teach.”