'Our masks?'
Osidian shook his head. 'We must be free of their encumbrance.'
He led them through the moon-eyed door into the library. He opened the lantern, blew it out then put it on the ground, out of the way against a wall.
'Will we not need it further on?' asked Carnelian.
'No,' replied Osidian. Carnelian reached out to take a grip of Osidiah's cloak. He felt his hand being disengaged.
'It will be faster for you to follow your feet,' said the darkness.
Carnelian felt Osidian's cold foot nudging his across the floor to where it was embossed. 'Read it,' said Osidian.
Carnelian used his toe to feel around the shape. 'A face… a horned-ring above… a circle below… bisected thus a sky glyph, thus Sky God.' He returned to feel the face. Its eyes were closed, its mouth open. 'Blowing,' he said. 'It reads as, wind’
'Indeed,' said Osidian, his voice fading into the blackness.
Carnelian followed the wind glyph trail blindly through the library. For a while he had been hearing a whistling up ahead. He bumped into Osidian who gave a groan.
'Hide your face deep in your cowl.'
Carnelian was doing so when a smudging brightness opened in front of them. As he stumbled after Osidian, a gale took hold of his cloak. Carnelian squinted both ways. They were standing near the edge of a ravine. On its further side a smooth heart-stone wall rose up into blackness. Sky light flowed in from the right, where the ravine turned a corner. Left, it narrowed off to a ragged eye-aching blue hole. Here and there narrow bridges arched the drop.
With his hand, Carnelian clamped his cowl onto his head. 'What is this?'
The Windmoat,' cried Osidian and turned into the blast.
They strode leaning into the wind. On their left the stone was as pierced as a sieve. Light blinked through the holes as they walked past. A murmur came through as if from a crowd at prayer. Carnelian paused to glue an eye to one of the holes and saw a tunnel running off into the distance. All the way down one side it was peopled from floor to ceiling with squatting, tallow-faced ammonites. He found the angle to see the tunnel's other side. Stone sloped up to a ledge on which something was sitting in a chair. He could make out a voice, a homunculus, droning, 'Compare cords twenty-five to thirty, Ba-Ta process result spindle for five computations…' He pushed his cheek into the stone, trying to see more. The mummified face of its Sapient master hung above the homunculus, his fingers operating its throat.
Osidian pulled him away.
'What…?' Carnelian said, pointing at the fretted wall.
Ammonite arrays, signed Osidian's hand. Calculating the approach of the Rains.
They passed one of the bridges, a simple arch without a parapet only wide enough for a single man. It crossed over to a postern gate sunk deep into the heart-stone wall.
Carnelian glanced up and saw, high above the gate, a few isolated holes that might have been windows. It was like a fortress or a prison.
He pulled Osidian's sleeve. He pointed at the gate. Where does that go? he signed.
The forbidden house.
Carnelian stared up at the windows and then pulled his cowl down and held it tight over his face by pressing his chin into his chest. He had a silly fear that Ykoriana might be up there looking down.
They went along the ravine edge as it widened to sky. Carnelian glimpsed the blue spread of the crater and then he saw Osidian had found some cracked ledges that led down into the ravine and begun to descend. Carnelian peered down to where its sheer edges were snagging morning light. For the first time he considered the reality of where they were going. He remembered the long climb of the Rainbow Stair, and that Osidian had described this Ladder as being harrowing. He shrugged. There was no turning back now. Chewing his lip, Carnelian started down the precarious steps.
The ravine squeezed down to a narrow cleft. The steps continued out through its end seemingly into the sky. Osidian had wedged himself between the walls. His cloak flapped desperately in the wind as he scrunched it into a ball and trapped it between the small of his back and the rock. He swung his pack round into his embrace and inserted his hand into it. He looked away with narrowed eyes as he rummaged. With a triumphant grin, he brought forth ajar that he gave to Carnelian, who could only look at it. Osidian fished out another. Carnelian watched his friend open the jar then pull up the corner of his robe and run it round inside. It came out white and oily. Osidian bent his knee to bring his foot towards him, leaned over and began to rub it with the paint. After a few strokes he looked up, holding his foot with one hand, the robe's whitened corner with the other.
'Are you just going to stand there watching?' he cried over the wind.
'Are we going barefoot?' Carnelian accented his words with gesture.
'Naked feet provide suction as well as a sensitivity to the movements in the rock.' Osidian resumed the daubing of his feet.
Carnelian wriggled himself into a stable position. Tentatively, he lifted one foot and kneaded his toes, rubbing dust from between them. 'And the paint?' he shouted.
'It will not come off. It will protect the paleness of your feet.'
Carnelian dipped a corner of his robe into his jar and rubbed some on. The paint reeked of turpentine. It was sticky and gleaned coldness from the wind. He began to apply it over his foot up to the ankle.
Take it higher, at least up to your knees.' Osidian hoisted the skirt of his robe. His long strong legs were so white they made the paint seem yellow.
When his feet were done, Carnelian began to spread the stuff up his legs.
'It is only paint,' cried Osidian, grinning. 'By your face one would think it was dung.' He made a lunge with the corner of his robe. Carnelian grazed his arm trying to dodge it, but it landed anyway. 'You had missed a bit,' said Osidian. 'Now do the soles.' He folded his feet up one at a time as he painted them. When each was done he waved it in the wind to dry.
'You look ridiculous.'
Osidian's eyebrows rose, making Carnelian look at himself. They both laughed. Osidian touched his foot gingerly to the floor as if he feared the paint might glue him to the rock. When he was standing firmly on both feet, he began to wriggle out of his robes.
Carnelian stared in amazement as Osidian pulled layer after layer over his head and pushed them under his feet. The last two robes were merely a mist concealing his body. Soon, he was dazzling, naked against the rock. Carnelian looked away.
'You too,' cried Osidian, through chattering teeth.
Carnelian tried to turn his back on him but the effort threatened to tumble him into the crack of the ravine. He cursed as he began to struggle out of his robes. He winced when his elbow struck rock. 'Is this really necessary?' he cried.
Osidian jabbed a finger out towards the sky. 'Out there, these robes would make us kites.'
'Could you not have found a better place to change?'
'Would my Lord prefer to expose himself above to the eyes of the forbidden house?'
Carnelian grumbled. He turned when he was wearing only a single robe. It was almost transparent. He could see his pimpled legs and the dull, discolouring paint. 'It is cold. Perhaps I should keep this on.'
Osidian made a face at him. 'I promise you that feeling the cold will be the least of your problems. Take it off.'
Carnelian pulled the last robe over his head. Osidian was looking at him. Carnelian blushed. Osidian pulled neatly folded bundles out of his pack and threw them at Carnelian. They turned out to be a padded tunic and close-fitting trousers. He put them on as quickly as he could. This is hardly the attire of the Chosen.'
Osidian flashed a smile and then shouldered the pack.
They stepped out of the ravine into a blinding churn of wind and sun. Carnelian clung to its cracked lip until he could see again. He clung harder when he realized how narrow was the shelf they stood on. Beyond was a world of air remotely floored by the turquoises of the crater. The ground was impossibly far away. His fingers tried to force their way into the rock to anchor him.