Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [110]
Mina and Valthonis stood outside the stone pillars, looking in. The sky was cloudless, achingly blue. The sun teetered precariously on the peaks of the Lords of Doom, still casting its radiant light, though any moment it would slide down the mountain and fall into night. The valley was filled with the twilight; shadows cast by the mountains, sunlight gleaming on the obsidian pool.
Mina gazed with rapt fascination on the black pool. She walked toward it, prepared to squeeze her way through the narrow gap between two pillars, when she realized Valthonis was no longer at her side. She turned to see him standing near the small crack in the rock wall through which they had entered.
“The pain will never end, will it?” she asked.
His answer was his silence.
Mina unwrapped the artifacts of Paladine and Takhisis and held them, one in each hand. She lay the scrip that had belonged to the monk at the foot of a pillar of white marble streaked with orange, then walked between the pillars and stepped onto the pool of shining black obsidian. Lifting her amber eyes, she stared into the heavens and saw the constellations of the gods shining in the sky.
The gods of light, represented by Branchala’s harp, Habbakuk’s phoenix, the bison’s head of Kiri-Jolith, Majere’s rose, the infinity symbol of Mishakal. Opposing them were the gods of darkness, Chemosh with his goat’s skull, Hiddukel’s broken scales, Morgion’s black hood, Sargonnas’s condor, Zeboim’s dragon turtle. Separating darkness and light, yet keeping them together was Gilean’s Book, the forge-fire of Reorx, the steadfast burning planets of Shinare, Chislev, Zivilyn, Sirrion. Nearer to mortals than the stars were the three moons: the black moon of Nuitari, the red moon of Lunitari, the silver moon of Solinari.
Mina saw them.
And they saw her, all of them.
They watched and waited for her to decide.
Standing in the center of the pool, Mina raised up the artifacts, one in each hand.
“I am equal parts of darkness and of light,” she cried to the heavens. “Neither holds sway over me. I may side sometimes with one and sometimes with the other. And thus the balance is restored.”
Mina held up the Necklace of Sedition of Takhisis; the necklace that could persuade good people to give way to their worst passions, and then she cast it onto the obsidian pool. The necklace struck the dark surface and melted into it and vanished. Mina held the crystal pyramid of Paladine in her hand a moment longer, the crystal that could bring light to a benighted heart. Then she cast it down as well. The crystal sparkled like another star in an obsidian night, but only briefly. The light went out, the crystal shattered.
Turning her back, Mina walked out of the obsidian pool. She walked away from the circle of stone guardians. She walked across the floor of the empty, barren valley, walked barefoot, her cut and blistered feet leaving tracks of blood.
She walked until she came to a place in the valley known as Godshome where the shadows vied with the sun and here she stopped. Her back to the gods, she looked down at her feet, and she wept and left the world.
In the valley known as Godshome, a pillar of amber stood alone and apart in a still pool of night-blue water.
No stars were reflected in the water. No moons or sun. No planet. No valley. No mountains.
Valthonis, looking into the pool, saw his own face there.
Saw the faces of all the living.
hys Mason sat beneath an ancient oak tree near the top of a green, grass-covered hill. He could see in the distance the smoke rising from the chimneys of his monastery, the home to which he had returned after his long, long journey. Some of the brothers were in the field, turning over the ground, awakening the earth after its winter slumber, making it ready for planting. Other of the brethren were busy around the monastery, sweeping and cleaning, repairing the stonework that had been gnawed and worried by