“So you really are a dervish,” Grace said softly.
Now the expression on his face became one of wonder. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. At first I thought I was still being a Seeker. And what Seeker wouldn’t want to understand the origin of all the worlds? I began to study the scrolls I had taken from the old dervish, and to research how I might read them. But the course of my studies kept leading me back to ancient Amъn. And to sorcery.”
“Was it only that?” Vani said. “Was it only research, as you say? Or was it not that you enjoyed summoning the spirits and wished to do it again?” Her gaze moved down to his arms.
Farr pulled down the sleeves of his serafi, but not before they all saw the fine scars that crisscrossed his skin.
“So have you ever learned what was in the scrolls?” Grace said after a long moment.
Farr shook his head. “I have learned some of the ancient tongue of Amъn, but not enough to translate the scrolls fully. They are written in a peculiar script–used only, I believe, by a secret cabal of sorcerers long ago. It is possible that some among the Mournish might be able to read more of the scrolls than I have, but I wouldn’t exactly expect a friendly reception if I were to go to them.”
He cast a glance at Vani. The T’golsaid nothing.
“What I have been able to read is intriguing,” Farr went on, and he seemed more like a scholar or researcher now, speaking with growing excitement. “Of course, it’s all heavily coded in metaphor. It reads like a myth–though like all myths, I think there is truth at its heart. The scrolls describe how in the beginning there was nothing. Then the nothing, quite spontaneously, spawned two twins. The twins were opposites in every way: one light and giving, the other dark and consuming. From the moment they were born, the twins were separated and kept apart, and each built many cities beholden to him. However, the scrolls speak of a time when the twins will come together again. When they do, they will war, and all that both of them created will be destroyed. Even the very nothingness that spawned them will be annihilated. All of existence will be like an empty cup, only with no chance of ever being filled again.”
The story made Travis sick. “It’s just like what you said about the rift, Grace. It’s the end of everything.”
Larad leaned on his elbows, his fingertips pressed together. “Do the scrolls speak of how the twins might be prevented from warring?”
“Not in any passages that I have been able to decipher.”
Travis stood up. He had heard enough. “We can worry about what’s in the scrolls later. Right now we have to find Nim. The sorcerers will be taking her to Morindu, won’t they?” Vani nodded. He turned his gaze on Farr. “And you know the way, don’t you?”
Farr hesitated. “I believe I do. There has been an increasing number of tremors in Moringarth in recent months. Many ruins, previously buried and lost, have been uncovered. Not long ago, while investigating the rumors of just such a ruin, I came upon a Scirathi. He had crawled out of the deep desert and was nearly dead. I think he was hallucinating and thought I was one of his kind, for he clutched at my robe and babbled that he had seen a spire of black stone jutting up out of the sand. He told me where he had seen it, but before he could tell me more, a band of his ilk attacked, and I was forced to flee.”
“A black spire,” Vani breathed, her gold eyes gleaming. “Of all the cities of ancient Amъn, only Morindu was built of black stone.”
“That is why I believe what the sorcerer said was true: that after all these eons, Morindu has at last been found.”
“What happened to this sorcerer?” Larad asked.
“I can only believe the Scirathi retrieved him, and that they learned what I did from him, and perhaps more.”
Vani clenched a fist. “You should have slain him.”
Farr glared at her, and Travis stepped between the two. They didn’t have time for arguments. “You can fight about this later. The Scirathi know where Morindu is, and that means right now they’re taking Nim to it. The storm is over–there’s no more reason to wait here. We have to go.”
Grace stood beside him. “I’m going with you.”
He gave her a grateful look. She took his hand and gripped it tightly.
Vani turned away from Farr, a look of shame on her face. “Travis is right. Nothing matters now save for finding my daughter.”
“What of the rift?” Master Larad said, rising from his chair. “I journeyed here with Queen Grace because I wished to speak to you about the weakening of rune magic, Master Wilder. I believe it might be related to the rift, as well as to the Last Rune. If we answer one mystery, we may answer the other as well.”
Seldom in his life had Travis felt certain about what to do. At that moment, he did. Nim was more important than everything else. Even the world. All the worlds.
“We can talk about it on the way,” he said.
27.
They made ready to leave the village of Hadassa as evening drew near.
“It’s best if we journey into the desert by night,” Farr said as they let the camels drink their fill from the village’s oasis. “The moon is almost full. We will have more than enough light, and it will be far cooler than traveling by day.”
The T’golAvhir crossed lean arms, his bronze eyes on the former Seeker. “The heat is not the only danger in the Morgolthi.”
“No, but it’s the only danger we can hope to easily avoid,” Farr said. He turned his back on the assassin. “I will be on the south edge of the village. I want to see if I can spot any storms while there is still light. Meet me there when you are ready.” He walked away among the white huts, his dark serafigusting behind him.
“Well, it’s nice to see he’s as cuddly as ever,” Travis said.
Grace followed Farr with her gaze. “He’s only doing his job. He’s promised to take us to Morindu.”
“And the brooding helps with that how?”
“I’m going to go get my things,” Grace said, and headed toward one of the huts.
Travis sighed and turned his attention back to the four camels, amazed at how much the animals could drink. A thought occurred to him. He approached Avhir. Of the three T’golwho had accompanied Grace south, the tall man seemed the most talkative–which wasn’t saying much.
“We’ve packed water for ourselves,” he said to Avhir, “but where will the camels get water?”
“Nowhere. I do not imagine the beasts will survive this journey. I can only hope they will bear us close to our destination before they perish.”
His words shocked Travis. “This isn’t right. We can’t kill them for nothing.”
“So you believe this journey is for nothing?”
Travis clenched his jaw. They both knew the answer to that question. “Maybe we could go on foot.”
Avhir shook his head. “You cannot travel as fast on foot as T’gol, and time is against us. The sorcerers are already on the move.”
Travis couldn’t disagree. However, he doubted that saving Nim was the assassin’s sole reason for hurrying.
They want to find Morindu the Dark. They’ve been searching for it for three thousand years. Now it’s been found, and they think I’m going to raise it from the sands that bury it.
And was he? Travis didn’t know. If that was what it took to save Nim, he would find a way to do it. Otherwise, Morindu the Dark could stay buried for countless eons more for all he cared.