The Magehound - Elaine Cunningham [98]
Puzzled, she came to a stop on the next landing. Her mother bumped heavily into her. Tzigone glanced back the way they'd come.
"Look," she said grimly, pointing up. Or possibly down. The pool gleamed overhead, and below them was the unmistakable void of the night sky.
Inexplicably the two had changed places.
"A puzzle palace," her mother said in a faint, despairing voice. "Mystra save us."
The child's trained gaze darted around. Several flights of stairs led from the landing, some going up, some down, and some leading nowhere at all. There were four levels of balconies surrounding the courtyard, and all levels seemed to be split into several parts. Some had been fashioned with elaborately carved or tiled or painted ceilings, while others were roofed or floored by the night sky. It was as if some crazed wizard had inserted this small section of the city into a gigantic kaleidoscope, fracturing and fragmenting reality beyond logic or recognition.
"This way," she guessed and darted in the direction of a waterfall that disappeared into the air, only to resume its fall a few dozen paces to the south.
It proved to be a good choice. In moments they stood before a door-a real door, one that opened with a latch and led into the solid, staid reality of the villa beyond.
As the door swung open, her mother's amulet started to glow.
Never had this happened before, and the fearsome novelty of it froze Tzigone's feet to the floor. In the span of a heartbeat, the shining bit of electrum turned rosy with heat. Her mother let out a pained gasp and tore off the amulet, breaking the slender chain.
Instantly the courtyard was alive with verdant magic. The questing vine, fragmented into an impossible maze, writhed and twisted like a titanic snake that had been many times severed, floundering violently about in its death throes.
But apparently someone could make sense of the magical path. A shout came from beyond the villa's walls, and a door crashed open. Footsteps thundered through the building toward them.
Tzigone turned to dart back into the insane courtyard, plucking at her mother's skirt to indicate her intent rather than risk speech and discovery. But the woman gently pried the small fingers loose.
"Go," she said quietly. "My magic is nearly gone. The amulet is broken. They will find me soon whether I run or stay."
"I won't leave you," Tzigone said stubbornly.
"You must. It is you they seek."
She only nodded. Somehow she'd always known that. But knowing was not the same as doing, and she couldn't bear to leave.
The footsteps came closer, and the heavy tread seemed to move the ground.
Tzigone rocked back and forth, shaken violently by the terrifying approach. But she would not run. She had to see.
"Tzigone! Come back!"
It was not her mother's voice, but still filled with fear and concern.
Instinctively she turned toward it. With difficulty, her eyes focused on Matteo's face.
He was kneeling in front of her, grasping her shoulders and shaking her, and his face was drawn and pale.
"I'm back," she said faintly. "You can stop rearranging my spine any time now."
Matteo released her but didn't move away. "What did you see?"
She averted her eyes. "Did I say anything?"
"Nothing I could make out. A word here and there. I did catch something about jasmine."
"I've always hated the bloody stuff. Now I remember why. I'm going back," she said in a stronger voice.
Matteo's lips thinned. "Tzigone, that would be most unwise. There are many layers of memory, and what you are doing goes far beyond anything most jordaini could dream of achieving. I've seen two other people fall into a memory trance. It seemed more taxing than a footrace or an afternoon's practice at arms.
You should rest."
"I saw my mother!" she said. "I remembered the night we were separated. I escaped,