‘One of these things,’ he said to Estrella, ‘once belonged to the last Maitreya, Godavanni the Glorious. Can you recognize which one? Or, that is, show it to us?’
His face hardened into an iron-like mask, so as not to give hint which item this might be. So it was with the other Masters. They hardly dared to breathe as they waited to see what Estrella would do.
As quick as the beating of a bird’s wings, she clapped her hands together. Her face brightened as she smiled with delight. Then, without hesitation, her hands swept forward and closed around the wooden box.
‘Excellent!’ Master Virang cried out. ‘Most excellent!’
‘A seard, indeed,’ Master Nolashar said.
Master Storr’s lips tightened as if someone had forced a sour cherry into his mouth. He looked from Estrella to Liljana, and said, ‘You didn’t, Materix of the Maitriche Telu, teach this girl to read minds, did you?’
In answer, Liljana only glared at him. Master Storr clearly didn’t like what he must have seen in her mind, for he turned away from her and stared at the box cupped in Estrella’s hands.
‘It is known,’ he announced, ‘that Godavanni kept three song stones inside this box. The stones have long since been lost, and perhaps the songs as well, but at least we still have this.’
Estrella set the box back on the table, and smiled at him. And then Abrasax said to Master Storr, ‘This is enough, do you agree? I believe the girl will show us the Maitreya.’
Master Storr rubbed his jaw as he stood eyeing the box. ‘I am coming to believe that, too. But the question that must be answered above all others is: can Valashu Elahad lead her to him?’
And with that, he turned to regard me.
‘Tell me where he might be found,’ I said to Master Storr, ‘and I will lead Estrella there, along with the rest of my friends – and even yourself if you don’t trust me.’
‘Bold words, Prince Valashu,’ Master Storr said. ‘We have heard how you put yourself forward as the Maitreya, with great boldness, and claimed the Lightstone for yourself. To what purpose, we must wonder? You would have made yourself warlord of a grand alliance, commander of a hundred thousand swords, a king of kings – is it your hope now that finding the Maitreya will help you claim this authority?’
The look of scorn on Master Storr’s face made me grind my teeth. Wrath filled my heart then, and to the seven old masters gazing at me I said, ‘What man can say in truth that his purpose is as pure as damask, unstained by any desire for the good regard of other men or influence upon them? Who can declare that every act of his life has flown straight and true as an arrow toward a single target? Did you, Master Storr, Master of the Gelstei, join the Brotherhood solely out of a love for knowledge and service, with no thought at all of excelling and being recognized for your efforts? Do you never doubt if your study of the gelstei conceals a deeper urge to control and wield them? You have heard a great deal about me, it seems, but know very little. I am of the sword, as you have said. I would break it into pieces, if I could. All swords, everywhere. There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to enter the Brotherhood, as you were privileged to do, to play the flute and spend my life making music. But I had duties: to my family, to my father, to my land. To all lands. Fate called me to recover the Lightstone, with the help of my friends, and then to see it stolen by the Crucifier. Was there not one moment when I desired to lead armies against him and see him cut into pieces? Do I never long, now, by force of arms to cut the Cup of Heaven from his bloody hand? If I said no, you would hear the lie in my voice. Hear, then, the truth: six brothers I had, and I would have shouted in gladness if any of them had become king of Mesh before me. A mother, father and grandmother I had, and they are all dead because of me. Four thousand of Mesh’s bravest warriors, too. Everyone knows this. I am an outcast, now. And so I cannot hope to be king of Mesh, let alone lord of a great alliance. All that remains to me is to try to stop the Red Dragon from doing the worst. It is why I think and feel and breathe. I do not dare even to hope that a time may come when I can cast this into the sea and take up the flute once more.’
So saying, I lifted up my sword, and looked at the seven Masters who regarded me. Master Storr stared at me with his cold, blue eyes, and I sensed that he saw only my fury to defeat Morjin.
Abrasax, however, saw other things. He studied me from across our table as he pulled at his beard. ‘We know there were signs that you were the Maitreya.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘there were signs.’
‘But you ignored, didn’t you, the even stronger sign of the truth inside yourself?’
I held my breath in disquiet that he could read me so keenly. Then I said, ‘Yes, I always knew. But I didn’t want to know. I wanted … to make everything right. And so I claimed the Lightstone.’
And upon this crime, destruction and death had followed like an evil wind. Abrasax, I thought, understood this very well, as he understood me. He had no need to act as my accuser and judge when I had already condemned myself so damnably. But he was not ready to see me act as my own executioner. I felt forgiveness pouring out of him, and something else, too: an admonition that hatred of myself could destroy me more surely than any weapon or poison of Morjin’s. Abrasax’s eyes were soft yet unyielding upon my face. Looking into these deep, umber orbs made me want to trust him without question.
‘I didn’t know,’ I told him, ‘who the Maitreya is. Or what he is. And despite what Estrella has told us tonight so beautifully, I still don’t.’
I looked over at Estrella to see if my words disappointed her, but she just smiled at me.
‘Master Juwain,’ Abrasax said, ‘has given an account of the akashic crystal that you found in the little people’s wood. It is too bad that it was broken: you might have gained the knowledge that you sought. But there are other crystals.’
I looked across the room at the golden, False Lightstone resting on its marble pedestal beneath the window; I looked at the seven Masters of the Brotherhood who kept hidden the Great Gelstei. I said, ‘Do you possess an akashic crystal, then?’
‘No, we don’t,’ Abrasax told me. ‘But there is this.’
So saying, he drew forth a book from beneath the pile of cushions behind him and showed it to me. Its cover seemed made of some shiny, hard substance like lacquered wood. Bright golden glyphs shone from it, but I could not read them, for they were of a script unfamiliar to me. Abrasax laid the book on our table. He opened it, and my eyes fairly burned with surprise, for its pages were like none I had ever seen. Abrasax riffled through them, and I thought that there must be thousands of them, each thinner than a piece of rice paper and as clear as a window pane. It seemed that Abrasax’s strong fingers must easily rip or fracture these tinkling, tissue-like wisps. When I expressed my fear of this, he smiled and said, ‘The pages are quite sturdy. Here, try turning them yourself.’
I put my thumb and finger to one of the pages; it felt strangely cool to the touch and as tough as old parchment.
‘I read this long ago,’ Abrasax said. ‘After speaking with Master Juwain earlier, I asked Brother Kendall to retrieve it from the library that we might make reference to it tonight.’
‘You read it how?’ Maram called out. ‘The pages have no letters!’
‘Do they not?’ Abrasax asked him with a smile. ‘Perhaps you are just not looking at them right.’
And with that, he opened the book to a page he had marked, and he held his hand over it. Then Maram gave a little gasp of astonishment, and so did I, for the clear crystal of the page suddenly took on an albescent tone as