Into the Wall
“R eady?” Alton asked Duncan. “It was not very pretty last time I went in there.”
Morning had come all too soon with an icy wind out of the north. After a terrible night’s sleep, he’d had to force himself to crawl out of his toasty blankets.
“I was ready last night when you insisted on your beauty rest,” Duncan replied. “Now, don’t scowl at me, my lord. You can’t say I lack enthusiasm.”
Alton grunted and carried the mage’s pouch to the tower. At least he’d have a respite, however brief, from Duncan’s banter.
As they stood before the imposing facade of the tower, Duncan turned to him with an uncharacteristically solemn expression.
“Please do note,” Duncan said, “where you place my pouch so you can pull it back out if I don’t return in a couple hours. Chances are, I won’t be long, but it may require more investigation.”
“I understand,” Alton said.
With Duncan’s nod, Alton thrust the pouch through the wall of the tower and Duncan disappeared.
He intended to pull his hand back quickly to prevent it from being zapped by one of Haurris’ old spells, but the granite resisted, closed around his forearm and firmed.
He cried out in alarm and forcibly yanked his hand out before the granite totally hardened around it.
He opened and closed his fist. He’d scraped knuckles, but nothing worse. He rubbed his wrist, wondering what was going on with the guardians.
“Lord Alton?”
Peri approached with a steaming mug in each hand and halted a few yards from the wall.
He took a moment to compose himself after his fright. “It’s just Alton,” he told her. “I’m a Rider just like you.”
She nodded. “I’ve some kauv and it looks like you could use some.”
She had no idea, he thought. He strode over to her and accepted a mug with gratitude.
“The soldiers like it really strong,” she said. “It makes my toes curl, so I cut it with a liberal amount of honey.”
Alton sipped. It was strong, and very sweet, but the warmth felt good going down.
“So, the mage is in the tower?” she asked.
“Yeah. He doesn’t expect to be too long, but you never know. Tell me, have you ever felt anything from the tower or the wall?”
She paled. “Felt...anything?”
“Like hearing voices in your head, or feeling anything when you touch the wall?”
“I was explicitly ordered to stay away from the tower,” she replied.
“That order came from me, supported by the king. There are some nasty spells in there. But that doesn’t mean you don’t come in contact with the wall, touch it, or receive other sensations even when you don’t.”
She paled even more and stepped back. He was afraid she was going to faint.
“Peri?”
“No, no. I don’t go near the wall at all. I’ve no desire to.”
That was odd, he thought. It was the first impulse most people experienced when arriving at the wall.
They couldn’t help but approach and run their hands over the rough, grainy ashlars.
He mulled it over for a moment, trying to recall Peri’s special ability; then he noted the supple black leather gloves she wore.
“Your ability has to do with touch, doesn’t it?” he said.
She nodded. “Yes, sir, I mean, Alton. If I touch an object made by human hands, be it this mug I’m holding or the wall, I am often given visions or impressions about people who have made them or touched them before me.
It’s not always pleasant. It’s overwhelming if there is violence or lots of emotion tied to the object.
Otherwise, I can suppress the impressions to an extent, but it is fatiguing.
The gloves help.” She held up one of her hands.
“I wear them most of the time, even in summer, because they blunt many of the impressions, and you never know what an object has been through before you touch it.”
Now Alton understood. He could only imagine what touching the wall would do to her, how the guardians might overwhelm her, guardians who were sacrificed to strengthen the wall.
He then wondered at Connly’s judgment in sending her instead of someone else for duty here.
He thanked the gods his shielding ability was not so intrusive.
“To be honest,” he said, “I’m not inclined to touch the wall myself.”
“But you do,” she said.
“Yes, and it’s not usually a problem. I do so to connect with the guardians and to make sure all is well with them. Mostly I do it from within Tower of the Heavens. But last night and just now, it was strange.” He described to her what had happened and she visibly shuddered.
“Something like this happened to Dale a few years ago,” he explained. “The wall was unstable, going mad thanks to the influence of my cousin. The guardians trapped her in the wall and would have kept her had Merdigen not intervened.”
Peri’s eyes went round with horror. “I can’t even imagine.”
“Nor I, until now. I mean, I have had rough passage before, but the guardians haven’t tried to crush me.” He wasn’t absolutely sure that was what they intended, but it did remind him of Dale’s ordeal.
“What now?” she asked.
“We wait.”
And wait they did. As the sun traveled the sky and the cold gusts continued from the north, he grew edgy. Duncan had expected to be done with his business in the tower fairly quickly, but he had also told Alton it might take a while.
Alton paced, hoping against hope he would not have to reach through the tower wall to pull out the mage’s pouch to find out what had happened to him.
He was not anxious to come in contact with the granite again.
Fortunately he did not have to because a short time later, Duncan poked his head and shoulders through the wall.
“Thank the gods,” Alton murmured.
“Miss me?” Duncan asked. He glanced up at the sky. “Hmm. I lost track of time.”
“Well?” Alton said. “What’s it like in there?”
“Delightful,” Duncan said sarcastically. “Poor Haurris’ bones will have to be burned, but not just any fire will do. It’s no good to leave a mage’s bones lying around where anyone can pick them up.”
That was specious coming from Duncan whose leg bone traveled with him everywhere he went.
“I wouldn’t recommend anyone coming in just yet to retrieve them,” Duncan continued, “as his spells are still in effect, though I sense they are waning with the absence of his tempes stone.”
“It’s broken,” Alton said. “We removed it and the two halves are stored in Tower of the Heavens.”
“And therefore dead. His spells, however, are quite the master work. I’ve been examining them and ‘complex’ does not begin to describe them.”
“They almost killed me,” Alton muttered.
“Yes, they are brilliantly lethal.” There was a little too much enthusiasm in Duncan’s voice. Alton scowled.
“I observed the remains of the dark Sleeper, of course,” Duncan continued. “This tower with its web of spells would certainly be a challenge for anyone to pass through, and a good defense against the Sleepers. Alas, the spells were deteriorating in minuscule increments before my very eyes.”
“How much longer will they remain effective?” Alton asked.
“Difficult to say. I will continue my investigation and see if I can make an estimate. Such a terrible mess in there.” He tsked, sounding just like his father, Merdigen. “I’ll finish poking around in a bit,” he said as he receded back into the tower.
Duncan had no sooner left him when the voices came into Alton’s mind again: Rider, come in.
He froze and listened for the voice to speak again, but they did not.
“Everything all right? Did the mage find out anything useful?”
He was startled by Peri’s approach and tried to settle his nerves. “Not much, at least not yet. But I heard the voices again. They were the same and said, ‘Rider, come in.’”
“What are you going to do?”
Unconsciously he rubbed his wrist that had been caught in the wall earlier. “I’m not sure. I can’t commune with the guardians in the tower, so I’ll have to try against the wall. I suppose I could go to Tower of the Trees, but I don’t want to leave Duncan.”
“I could go,” Peri said, “and see if Garth and Mad Leaf have detected anything.”
He paused to consider. It was more than a day’s ride, less if she rode swiftly.
Mad Leaf would have a direct connection to the wall and might be able to pick up on any unusual activity among the guardians.
It was becoming clear to him, however, that he’d have to connect with the wall himself to see why he was being called.
“I’ll ask the lieutenant to send one of his people,” he finally replied. “I want you around in case anything happens when I try to reach the guardians.”
“What might happen?”
He saw the trepidation in her eyes. Her posture stiffened.
“I don’t know. But if something goes wrong, Duncan will need someone to pull his tempes stone from the tower, and you are the only Rider here. Then, if I am somehow incapacitated, you will have to ride to Captain Rennard to tell him.”
She trembled when he mentioned she might have to reach into the tower.
“His pouch is just inside, won’t take but a moment to pull it out,” he said, trying to reassure her. “I’ll mark the stones you need to reach through.”
To her credit, she didn’t refuse or complain, or say anything. She simply nodded.
After he showed Peri the place and marked it with soot from the watchfire, he informed Lieutenant Janes of his plan.
“I’ll send Private Olly,” the lieutenant said. “He’s a good horseman and can ride fast.”
When that was done, Alton sat by the fire and sipped some strong kauv, procrastinating. All around him, the soldiers went about their duties guarding, cutting back the forest, and training. Peri seemed to have taken on all the horse care duties, feeding, grooming, and cleaning tack.
“There isn’t much else for me to do,” she said during a break. “I can’t enter the tower, and they take care of everything else.” She swept her hand across the camp to indicate the busy soldiers. “I assist where I can.”
“I understand,” he replied. And he did. Life in a military setting involved a lot of waiting around. “And you know what?” he continued. “I’ve got to get to work myself. No more putting it off.” He decisively set his mug aside and stood. “You are clear on what to do in case there’s a problem?”
“Yes, sir,” Peri replied.
“It’s Alton.”
“Yes, sir...Yes, Alton .”
He smiled and marched to the wall to connect with the guardians as Peri watched after him.
Let’s see what you want, he thought. Possibly they wouldn’t even respond to him.
Hastily he slapped his palms against the granite before he could talk himself out of it. Ancient runes rippled across stone and vanished.
Rider, Rider . . . the voices sang out to him.
I am here, he replied. He sent his thoughts inward and they seemed to echo against the mineral and crystal formations of stone.
Rider, Rider . . . the voices crooned.
I am here. Annoyance tinged his words. What do you want?
You, the voices answered.
I’m—
Before he could finish, his hands sank into the wall and he was pulled inward.
Several someones tried to hold onto him outside the wall, grasping his belt and feet to haul him out of the wall, but its grip was merciless and threatened to tear him apart.
His would-be rescuers seemed to understand this and let go, and the wall swallowed all of him.
“T his tisane ought to help,” Mender Doyle told Estral. “It’s actually a variation of my grandmother’s concoction. Give it a good steep and drink it morning and afternoon until the symptoms ease. Should help everything, including your sleep and throat.”
Estral accepted the small bundle of herbs. “A cure-all,” she whispered.
“Not quite,” he replied, “but it will help.”
A shriek from without the mending cabin made them both jump.
“What in the name of the heavens was that?” the mender asked.
“It sounded like Marc!”
Estral and Mender Doyle stepped outside into the night. Dale ran by and they fell in behind her.
As Estral had guessed, the shriek had come from Marc. Several of the camp’s denizens clustered around his cabin’s entryway.
“It’s Alton,” Marc cried from within.
Snapped into wakefulness at hearing Alton’s name, Estral pushed through the crowd and entered the cabin. Dale sat beside Marc on his cot, trying to console him.
“What? What about Alton?” Estral demanded.
Dale looked at her with an unreadable expression. Lantern light fell on Marc’s tear-streaked face.
“He’s in the wall,” Marc said. “I can feel it—it’s crushing him.”