Rhiow chuckled at that. “What happened to us all,” she said, “had something to do with mine, something I’d been putting off. Obscure? I’ll be working on the details of this one for years. But I think we’ve got our job about done.”
“One thing left,” said Saash. “Let’s get back upstairs—”
Rhiow blinked. They were back upstairs, near the “pool” created by the binding down of the main catenary trunk.
Urruah looked around him with his “good” eye and swore softly. “I told you this place was malleable.”
“I may have done that,” Ith said. “I do not yet understand the nature of space down here. This was where you wanted to be?”
“Just the spot,” Saash said. She paused to look up at the balconies, which were much less crowded than they had been earlier. “I think I can keep this from jumping right out and destroying everything.” She leaned down and got ready to put a paw down into the pool.
“Is that safe??” Arhu said.
She smiled at him. “This time it is. Watch—”
Saash reached down, dabbled in the cold bright flow of light—then stood up, stood back. Slowly the light in the “pool” reared up, bulging like a seedling pushing itself up out of the ground, then, more quickly, began to straighten, pulling branches and sub-branches of light up out of the depths of the stone beneath the bottom of the abyss. Still more quickly it started to reach upward, a tree of fire branching upward and branching again. Then all in one swift movement it straightened itself, shaking slightly as if a wind was in its branches. The separate branchings started to drift into their proper configurations again, the bemused saurians getting hurriedly out of the way of the slowly moving lines of energy as they passed through walls and carvings like so much cheesewire through cheese.
The saurians stared down at them.
“Well,” Arhu said, staring up at the reconstructed catenary tree, “that’s handled. Now what?”
Ith looked up at the balconies, at the many curious faces looking down. The feeling of hostility that had been there before now seemed, for the moment at least, to be gone. He looked over at Arhu then and smiled.
“Now,” he said, “we bring my people home.”
Chapter Fourteen
They started the walk upward through the tunnels and balconies wondering how much explaining they would need to do … and found that little was needed: for every saurian who saw Ith immediately seemed to recognize him and to be willing to listen to him, if not specifically to obey him.
“Well,” Rhiow said, “he’s their father. Why not?”
Arhu, walking close behind Ith, found this funny, and after all the difficulties associated with getting down into the abyss, it amused him even more that the team was regarded with some suspicion, but no overt hostility. As far as the saurians were concerned, if Ith vouched for the felines, that was all right with them: and soon they were near the head of a huge parade of the creatures, all eagerly climbing upward into the heights where none but workers were normally permitted.
“They really will be able to live up there, won’t they?” Arhu said to Rhiow, worried.
“Oh, of course. Much of what you were hearing down there was the Lone One’s lies to them, to keep them enslaved. They’ll spread out over the surface of this world and find plenty, once they’re used to hunting in the open. The other carnivores may be a little annoyed at the competition, but they’ll manage. There’ll be plenty of prey for everybody.”
“And meantime…” Urruah said to Rhiow, from behind. “What about us?”
“What about us?”
“Well, we’ve been dead.”
Rhiow sighed, for that had been on her mind, and it had struck her that this cheerful walk up to the surface was likely to be their last. She looked over at Saash.
She had done this several times and kept having to smile, for now she thought she knew why Saash’s skin had always been giving her trouble. It was not until she saw her friend suddenly manifest after her death as Aaurh the Mighty, the One’s Champion, that Rhiow realized that Saash’s soul, after nine lives, had simply become too big for that body; and that her Tenth Life was not merely a possibility, but a given. It was an added source of amusement that someone who could so perfectly meld into the persona of the irresistible Huntress, the Destroyer-by-Fire, could nonetheless be so hopeless at catching something as simple as mice. But then maybe the body was just resisting the role it knew was coming.
“Not that I’m going to need to catch things to eat for much longer,” Saash said, and sighed.
“That was really it, was it?” Rhiow said sadly.
“That was my ninth death, yes,” Saash said. “And now … well, after I cross through the gate back home, we’ll see what happens.”
“But the rest of us…” Rhiow looked at Urruah, who was chatting with Arhu at the moment. “He was as dead as you were.”
“He may be short a life when we get home. I’m not sure: he’ll have to take it up with the Queen. I mean, Rhi,” Saash said, “we’ve been gods, and some of us rose from the dead while we were gods. And if you’re a god and you rise from the dead, I think you stay risen. For the time being, anyway…”
“But what about you?” Urruah said. “Look at you!”
“Look,” Arhu said, “it’s the upper caverns.” He loped on ahead.
The saurians were hurrying out after him at the first glimpse of some light that was not the cool, restrained light of the catenary tree. Rhiow and Saash and Urruah hurried to keep up with Arhu and Ith, partly to keep from being trampled by the eager crowd behind them. The light ahead, pale though it was, grew: spread—
—and there was the opening. Rhiow, though, wondered what had happened to the downhanging teeth of stone, and found out; many had fallen in the shaking of the Mountain. No surprise, she thought, many things almost fell today.
But not that, she thought, as she came out of the cave, onto the wide ledge looking over the world, and turned.
The weather was cuttingly clear. It was just a little while before dawn; high up the brightest stars were still shining through the last indigo shadows of night, and to the east, the sky was peach-colored, burning more vividly orange every moment. Rhiow looked at the Mountain, which lay still in shadow: but far up, on the highest peak, a spear of light was lifted to the sky, bunding—the topmost branches of the great Tree, catching the light of the Sun before it cleared the horizon for those lower down. The saurians piled out of the cave, as many of them as could, and stared… stared.
Some of them were looking westward and gaped open-mouthed in wonder at the round silver Eye gazing at them from the farthest western horizon: the full Moon setting as the Sun rose. Rhiow watched their wonder, and smiled. “Night with Moon” indeed, she thought: the ehhif Book was better named than maybe even the ehhif wizards knew. How many other hints had been scattered through Earth’s mythologies, hinting at this eventual reconfiguration?
“Is that the Sun?” one of the saurians said.
Rhiow laughed softly and looked eastward again, where the sky was swiftly brightening. “Turn around,” she said, “and just wait…”
They waited. The shifting and rustling of scales died to a profound silence. Only the wind breathed through the nearer trees, rising a little with the oncoming day. Rhiow looked up at the Tree again, wondering: Are there really eyes up there, the eyes of those gone before, who look down and watch what passes in the worlds? I wonder what they make of this, if they are there indeed?