mistaken Shand had poisoned her mind against Llian, raising the worm
of treachery that had made the past few months such a misery for them both.
And that woke another yearning that was still a little thing but growing - an
heir for Gothryme. She did not feel ready for that, but the women of her
family were not fertile for long, and Karan knew her time was running out. If
she did not produce an heir, one day her beloved home would fall into the
hands of a stranger, some distant cousin who might care nothing for its
Histories or its people.
Suddenly the nets of light sprang into place again and the networks smeared
out to make the Wall of the Forbidding. All at once her world - the tower
walls, the window - faded, and she saw that she was outside (or perhaps
inside) a translucent surface that seemed to curve away in many dimensions,
further than she could sense it. It was a little akin to the stuff of which
the Nightland had been made, faintly shimmering on its folds, curves and
convolutions. The Wall was in constant motion, sometimes billowing, sometimes
shivering but never in the same place twice. Sometimes it went in many
directions at once, a thing that her mind could not accommodate. Carcharon was
a very strange place, and here the Secret Art behaved in unpredictable ways.
She closed her eyes to try to escape from the dizziness, but that made no
difference. At times a wave would pass across the Wall from one direction or
another, or it would ripple like a stone thrown into a pond. At other times it
rang silently, like a gigantic gong, or shook violently as if rattled from the
other side.
Mostly the Wall was milkily translucent, but there were occasions when
rainbows shimmered across it in muted, pastel colours, and other times when
parts of it would darken
to opacity or burst with brief bright radiance. Nothing was visible on the
other side, if there could be said to be another side to something like an
ultra-dimensional Mobius plane.
She was growing used to it now. Though it was endlessly variable, endlessly
fascinating, she had work to do. The sound of the construct moved up to a
higher pitch. Waves of colour pulsed across the translucency like a frightened
cuttlefish. The nature of reality changed again; the walls of Carcharon began
to warp around and away from the construct. Karan could not see this, but she
could feel it. The floor felt as if it had sagged down. She had to brace
herself to avoid sliding towards the construct.
The sound rose to a whine and the Wall became solid with moving colour. Now it
was like lying beneath the surface of a pool, watching drops fall from above.
The drops were invisible, but each made a nipple sticking out at her, and a
series of concentric ripples spread out from it like a corrugated breast. The
drops began to fall faster and harder, the ripples chasing each other
continuously. Now they rebounded and reformed, and sometimes a tiny globe
would break off and drift away,. or fall back and be slowly resorbed. Once one
of these came drifting towards her nose and she half-expected it to burst the
way a soap bubble might, but it just rebounded with no sensation at all.
Sometimes bubbles seemed to be forming on the other side too. Perhaps that was
what Rulke was trying to achieve. 'It thins!' he sang out. 'Can you feel it?'
The whine rose in pitch. The whole Forbidding reverberated like a gong. The
colours and motions made her feel bilious, then suddenly a corona of bubbles
soared past and right in front of her was a tiny perforation in the Wall.
Rulke was quietly triumphant. 'There it is! Now it's your turn, Karan. Find
the Way between the Worlds.'
She hesitated, wondering what would happen if the hole snapped shut while her
sensing was beyond. He must have known what she was thinking, for he said
quietly, 'Courage!
I won't fail you. But you must do it quickly. This takes a toll of my
strength.'
Great Betrayer! But, strangely, she
of treachery that had made the past few months such a misery for them both.
And that woke another yearning that was still a little thing but growing - an
heir for Gothryme. She did not feel ready for that, but the women of her
family were not fertile for long, and Karan knew her time was running out. If
she did not produce an heir, one day her beloved home would fall into the
hands of a stranger, some distant cousin who might care nothing for its
Histories or its people.
Suddenly the nets of light sprang into place again and the networks smeared
out to make the Wall of the Forbidding. All at once her world - the tower
walls, the window - faded, and she saw that she was outside (or perhaps
inside) a translucent surface that seemed to curve away in many dimensions,
further than she could sense it. It was a little akin to the stuff of which
the Nightland had been made, faintly shimmering on its folds, curves and
convolutions. The Wall was in constant motion, sometimes billowing, sometimes
shivering but never in the same place twice. Sometimes it went in many
directions at once, a thing that her mind could not accommodate. Carcharon was
a very strange place, and here the Secret Art behaved in unpredictable ways.
She closed her eyes to try to escape from the dizziness, but that made no
difference. At times a wave would pass across the Wall from one direction or
another, or it would ripple like a stone thrown into a pond. At other times it
rang silently, like a gigantic gong, or shook violently as if rattled from the
other side.
Mostly the Wall was milkily translucent, but there were occasions when
rainbows shimmered across it in muted, pastel colours, and other times when
parts of it would darken
to opacity or burst with brief bright radiance. Nothing was visible on the
other side, if there could be said to be another side to something like an
ultra-dimensional Mobius plane.
She was growing used to it now. Though it was endlessly variable, endlessly
fascinating, she had work to do. The sound of the construct moved up to a
higher pitch. Waves of colour pulsed across the translucency like a frightened
cuttlefish. The nature of reality changed again; the walls of Carcharon began
to warp around and away from the construct. Karan could not see this, but she
could feel it. The floor felt as if it had sagged down. She had to brace
herself to avoid sliding towards the construct.
The sound rose to a whine and the Wall became solid with moving colour. Now it
was like lying beneath the surface of a pool, watching drops fall from above.
The drops were invisible, but each made a nipple sticking out at her, and a
series of concentric ripples spread out from it like a corrugated breast. The
drops began to fall faster and harder, the ripples chasing each other
continuously. Now they rebounded and reformed, and sometimes a tiny globe
would break off and drift away,. or fall back and be slowly resorbed. Once one
of these came drifting towards her nose and she half-expected it to burst the
way a soap bubble might, but it just rebounded with no sensation at all.
Sometimes bubbles seemed to be forming on the other side too. Perhaps that was
what Rulke was trying to achieve. 'It thins!' he sang out. 'Can you feel it?'
The whine rose in pitch. The whole Forbidding reverberated like a gong. The
colours and motions made her feel bilious, then suddenly a corona of bubbles
soared past and right in front of her was a tiny perforation in the Wall.
Rulke was quietly triumphant. 'There it is! Now it's your turn, Karan. Find
the Way between the Worlds.'
She hesitated, wondering what would happen if the hole snapped shut while her
sensing was beyond. He must have known what she was thinking, for he said
quietly, 'Courage!
I won't fail you. But you must do it quickly. This takes a toll of my
strength.'
Great Betrayer! But, strangely, she
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