Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [130]
He was heading for Mina’s chambers when the castle shook and walls trembled. A thundering, grinding roar such as he had heard only once before caused him to stand still with astonishment. The last time he’d heard that roar, the world was being born. Mountains were being lifted up, chasms carved through them, and the seas were white with the foam and the glory of creation.
Chemosh tried to see what was happening, but the light was too bright. He ran up the stairs to the battlements and stopped dead in his tracks.
On a new-formed island of black rock stood the Tower of the Blood Sea. The Tower shone with an amber glow, and there was Mina, standing before him with her arms outstretched, and it seemed to his dazzled vision that she held the tower in her hands. Then she sank down onto the stone and lay there unmoving.
Chemosh could only stare.
Zeboim rose from the sea, walked through the ethers and came to stand over Mina.
The three cousins left their celestial homes and came down to look on Mina.
The man-bull, Sargonnas, stepped over the castle wall and planted himself in the courtyard and glared at Chemosh. Kiri-Jolith, armed and accoutered for battle, also appeared; the White Lady, Mishakal, beautiful and strong, by his side. Habakkuk came, and Branchala with his harp, and the wind touched the strings and made a mournful sound.
Morgion stood in the shadows, regarding them all with loathing yet here regardless, among them. Chislev, Shinare, Sirrion stood together, bound by wonder. Reorx stroked his beard. He opened his mouth to say something, then feeling the weight of the silence, the god of the dwarves snapped his mouth shut again and looked uncomfortable. Hiddukel was grim and nervous, certain this would be bad for business. Zivilyn and Gilean arrived last, the two of them deep in talk that hushed when they saw the other gods.
“One of us is missing,” said Gilean, and his tone was dire. “Where is Majere?”
“I am here.” Majere walked among them slowly, his gaze going to none of them. He looked only at Mina and there was, on his face, inexpressible sorrow.
“Zivilyn tells me you know something about this.”
Majere continued to gaze down at Mina. “I do, God of the Book.”
“How long have you known?”
“Many, many eons, God of the Book.”
“Why keep this a secret?” Gilean asked.
“It was not mine to reveal,” Majere replied. “I gave my solemn oath.”
“To whom?” Gilean demanded.
“To one who is no longer among us.”
The gods were silent.
“I assume you mean Paladine,” Gilean stated. “But there is another who is no longer with us. Does this have something to do with her?”
“Takhisis?” Majere spoke sharply. His voice hardened. “She was responsible for this.”
Chemosh spoke. “Her last words, before the High God came to take her, were these: ‘You are making a mistake! What I have done cannot be undone. The curse is among you. Destroy me and you destroy yourselves.’ ”
“Why didn’t you tell us this?” Sargonas roared.
“She was always making threats.” Chemosh shrugged. “Why was this any different?”
The other gods had no answer. They stood silent, waiting.
“The fault is mine,” Majere said at last. “I acted for the best, or so I believed.”
Mina lay cold and still. Chemosh wanted to go to her, but he could not, not with all of them watching him. He said to Majere, “Is she dead?”
“She is not dead, because she cannot die.” Majere looked at each of them, each and every one. “You have been blind, but now you see the truth.”
“We see, but we do not understand.”
“You do,” said Majere. He folded his hands and gazed out into the firmaments. “You don’t want to.”
He did not see the stars. He saw the stars’ first light.
“It began at the beginning of time.” he said, “And it began in joy.” He sighed deeply. “Now, because I did not speak, it could end in bitter sorrow.”
“Explain yourself, Majere!” growled Sargonnas. “We have no time for your blathering!”
Majere shifted his gaze from