'On that dais, your father will kneel to give audience to the Seraphim.'
Across from where they stood, down the long side of the hall, ran a series of tall and narrow amber windows. Carnelian walked towards one. He touched its mosaic of molten gold. The window formed the image of an angel like a man in flames; only the eyes of watery grey diamond suggested this might be a representation of a Master. Carnelian walked along the line of windows. In the terrible burning beauty of their faces, their eyes were such cruel winter.
Carnelian's foot stubbed against something on the floor. He turned to look down at it. 'A trapdoor?'
'It is nothing, Seraph,' said Left-Quentha.
‘Surely it must lead somewhere?'
'A fright of steps down to ancient halls.' Right-Quentha made a gesture to take in their surroundings. 'Precursors to these. Ruined now a thousand years.'
Carnelian imagined these ancient dusty wonders. 'Could we not go and see them?'
They are decayed, Seraph,' said Left-Quentha.
'Lightless,' her sister added.
'Filthy.'
Carnelian made a smiling sign with his hand. 'Just a peek?'
Right-Quentha could not help a smile.
'We must not,' her sister whispered to her.
'Just a peek,' said Right-Quentha. 'Where would the harm be in that?'
Left-Quentha turned away, blinking her stone eyes, pursing her tattooed lips. Her sister forced her to bend when she herself bent down to lift a handle in the trapdoor. Left-Quentha gave in. They crouched, took the handle with all four hands and pulled. The cover stone grated open, spilling light down the steps.
The Seraph should send his guardsmen ahead,' said Left-Quentha.
Carnelian turned to his men and saw with what terror they were peering down into the depths.
'What's the matter with you lot?' asked Carnelian in Vulgate.
They began to kneel. He focused on one and grabbed his shoulder to stop him. 'Well?'
'Master… it's said this whole mountain's hollow.' The man stared, slack-eyed.
'And so?'
The Gods and the Masters walk the higher levels but in the lower they keep… you keep…' The man's voice tailed off, then he whispered,'… monsters.'
Carnelian threw his head back and laughed. He turned to the syblings. 'It seems they are afraid.'
Left-Quentha regarded them imperiously with her stone eyes. 'Slaves are always afraid. Soon enough we will have them trotting down those steps.' The syblings rose, both stone eyes and living fixed menacingly on the guardsmen.
Carnelian lifted his hands. There is no point in forcing them. I do not want to be deafened by the chattering of their teeth. We will go alone.'
The syblings frowned. 'As the Seraph commands.' They walked round Carnelian, scattering his guardsmen. Each sister demanded a sword.
'I will go first,' said Carnelian.
'We will go first, Seraph,' they said together, showing the swords the guardsmen had given them.
Carnelian could see that they would brook no argument and stepped aside to let them lead the descent into the darkness.
Left-Quentha carried the lantern and Carnelian followed behind, peering between their shoulders at the steps revealed by its jiggling beam. Although the steps were smoothly cut, the walls were roughly hewn. The stair wound from side to side, and several times passed places where a porthole fed in a ray of daylight.
At last they reached the bottom and the Quenthas moved out into black echoing space. They lifted the lantern and spread its light across the floor to find the further wall.
'Behold the first Hall of the Sun in Splendour. No He-who-goes-before has stood here for a thousand years,' they whispered together.
Carnelian turned. The stair was a ragged rupture in the corner. 'Where is the gold?' he whispered.
It grew brighter as the Quenthas came up to him. Left-Quentha slid her hand over the wall and found something. Her sister caught Carnelian's hand and drew it to replace Left-Quentha's. He could feel a hole deep enough to stick his finger in.
The plates that were attached here were carried up there.' Left-Quentha pointed at the ceiling.
They wandered off across the chamber. The floor was mouldy with dust. The Quenthas showed him the dais and the blocked-up hole where the ancient jewelled Window of the Dawn had been. Carnelian walked down between the grim pillars to the door. Through its gaping maw was utter darkness. He called the syblings to his side. All three of them hung together in the door mouth casting the light out into a nave. Although this was on a smaller scale than the one above, it still ran off further than their light could reach.
Carnelian looked round him. 'Was this then the original sun-eyed door?'
In answer the Quenthas stood on tiptoe and reached up to touch half a hinge of twisted dull bronze.
'Please, let us go a little further,' Carnelian whispered.
The sisters turned to each other as if they were having a silent conference. Brandishing their swords, they took some steps into the nave. Carved columns ran off on either side. All together, they walked on, and however far they went their lantern found more columns.
At last their light showed a narrowing end to the nave, another doorway, its gates long ago torn from its jaws. Beyond more darkness spread without apparent limit. They crept into this.
'The ancient Chamber of the Three Lands,' whispered Left-Quentha.
'See,' her sister hissed as she tapped the floor with her foot.
Carnelian leant over but could see nothing but an age-pitted floor. He shook his head.
'Walk with us, Carnelian,' said Left-Quentha.
However lightly they put down their feet, their footsteps produced echoes. The syblings were feeling their way with the lantern beam as if it were a stick.
There,' muttered Right-Quentha and they rushed forward, keeping the beam anchored to a spot on the floor. They crouched and he joined them. He could see that the floor had two different zones divided by a black line. 'You see?' Right-Quentha tapped the nearest zone, 'Green,' and then the further zone, 'Red.'
Carnelian stood up, whistling his breath out. They cast the light round for him to see the curve. 'A wheelmap,' he hissed. They both nodded. They took him to the centre of the design where there was a third zone, a black disc like a hole into which was inscribed a turtle. They stood at the centre of the Commonwealth, in Osrakum. The syblings slipped the lantern shutter round to produce a narrower, brighter beam. They played it about to show him the faraway curve of the chamber's outer wall, and stopped at a gap. The House of the Masks' door.' Round to another. The Gods' door.' Round one more time. The beam sparked on an oblong of ice. Carnelian narrowed his eyes. Not ice, silver. As he made to walk towards it, they touched his arm.
He looked at their stiff spider-like silhouette. 'I only want to see it close up.' He could feel their anger but he went anyway and they followed, afraid to lose him in the darkness.
As he approached he saw it was a door of silver in the centre of which stared a huge crying eye. 'A moon-eyed door,' he muttered and remembered the other he had seen on the Approach.
'It is here as it has always been. The entrance to the labyrinthine chambers of the Wise,' the syblings whispered.
'Can we just take a look?'
They became like statues. 'It is forbidden, Seraph.'
He considered wheedling but decided he had pushed them far enough already. The other doorways?'
'Lead to the forbidden house.' They had gone cold on him.
'Shall we go back?' he said gently.
That would be advisable, Seraph.'