Chapter 34

After closing the trap door behind them, they started down a dark tunnel. The passage was as well-constructed as it was long – after a series of wooden supports gave way to carven stone walls, Never began to wonder whether the entry point at the Vale of Lights was actually the original end point of the tunnel?

But more important for now was their destination. It was becoming increasingly likely that Ayuni’s village did wait at the end of the steadily rising passage, or at least a place that had been made by human hands.

Very occasionally they passed skylights set high above; these seemed to be open to the elements but were too narrow for any to climb down. What little light they provided was enough to drink from their flasks and move on, once more needing to rely on the single lantern Muka carried. By the fourth such patch of light it was clear the afternoon was wearing on, but here was a point where the slope became steps.

And again, well-crafted.

Never couldn’t help wondering about the possible Amouni influence on the island – they had been everywhere else, it seemed – but simply because it was old and built to last did not make it Amouni. The stair still seemed ancient at least. It was wide enough for four to walk and regular landings provided moments for rest.

When it finally came to an end at a wide door of stone, Never discarded his theory of the Amouni. Kiymako writing spread across the sealed door.

Ayuni ran her hands across the chiselled words. “It says ‘to those who seek to pass beyond this point know that a pure heart has naught to fear’.”

“I might not be welcome then,” Never said.

Ayuni waved a hand at him. “You’ll be fine – we all will, but only if we can open it.”

“Any memories?” Muka asked.

She shook her head.

Muka rested the lantern against the door and began to search his pack for his flask. Never rubbed at his neck. “I assume it’s not going to be a simple matter of pushing or pulling. No handle, no levers on the wall, no panels, nothing obvious. What about the floor?”

Ayuni crouched. “Nothing likely.”

Muka was peering at the writing, tracing each word with his hand, pushing against them but nothing changed. On the top step, Never sat and tapped his fingers on his knee. It didn’t seem that any Amouni trick would be enough, but he could always try some blood, just in case.

“Look,” Ayuni cried.

Never twisted. A soft yellow glow was spreading across the stone, starting from the point where Muka’s lantern sat near.

“It’s heat,” Ayuni said. She removed the lantern and after a moment, the glow began to fade. “See?”

“Let’s try something hotter then,” Never said with a grin. “Would you like to try some fire?”

Ayuni cupped her hands and closed her eyes, mouth moving soundlessly, a slight furrow in her brow. Light flickered, flashes of blue and green – just like during the caravan attack. He took a step back, as did Muka. The light grew, heat pouring forth with it as Ayuni lifted her arms and placed her hands upon the door.

The fire swirled in place but swiftly the doors responded, turning yellow, orange and finally a searing white. Never gave more ground against the heat, until he and Muka were half a dozen steps back down the stair.

“Ayuni?” he called, shielding his eyes.

“I’m not hurt,” she replied. A grinding followed her words and the light dimmed, heat eased. Never squinted up at the still-blazing doors, where her silhouette stood, shoulders heaving.

He joined her, Muka at his side.

Tears stood in Ayuni’s eyes and her hand was free of flame when she pointed. “I can hardly see it.”

Light was fading beyond the door, a wide stone cavern open to the elements, and beyond it rested a domed shape of polished stone, one side bright with the pink of a setting sun. Even as he stared, the light continued to slide from the surface, dwindling.

The shape was a mighty egg of stone. It stood larger than any inn where it rose above an overgrown garden, the sides smooth, gleaming.

“This can only be one place,” Muka said reverently. “Home of the Great Phoenix.”

“Truly?” Never asked.

He spread his hands. “I believe so, but we will soon find out.”

Never took Ayuni’s hand. “Should I lead you?”

“Thank you, but no.” She blinked away the tears. “My vision has returned. I must see, quickly.”

Ayuni started forward and Never followed close behind. Something was becoming clear – something he should have realised well before this point, yet he held off asking Ayuni about it a little longer. If he was correct, it seemed better for her to come to the same conclusion herself – if she hadn’t already.

Muka touched Never’s arm, lowering his voice. “Do you think she has realised?”

“No, but I think we should let her figure it out on her own.”

The warrior nodded. “We will watch her.”

Ayuni was already passing through the garden’s fringe. Paved paths were being swallowed by grass and moss, near to purple in the evening shadows that fell courtesy of the giant stone egg. Bamboo sprang up from between stone fences and pale white benches arranged in circles, the litter from old leaves crunching underfoot. The trickle of water came too, from somewhere behind the egg.

She had reached the base now, one hand resting against it. A warm glow of orange spread from beneath her fingers, spiralling until each tendril hit an invisible barrier in the shape of a doorway. The entire slab was soon criss-crossed with light – at which point stone began to slide open.

The light faded, revealing a darkened entryway.

Ayuni strode forward without hesitation.

“Ayuni, wait.” Never drew his knives as he followed, Muka pulling his sword free as they passed into darkness. But the passage was not long, and a glow waited beyond, warm light smouldering within stone walls of a vast chamber.

The room was lined with low stone benches, all facing a mighty nest. Crafted of black marble, it was the work of a master artisan. Every detail seemed as though it had but-recently been completed. The bend and gnarl of each twig, the textured pattern of bark visible on larger branches or the solid base of mud and dried grass was intricate; a few pieces seemed to hang free from the tangle, so real it seemed.

Only its gleam and colour gave it away as marble.

Ayuni sat in the row of seats nearest the nest, head in her hands. She looked up, tears in her eyes, when Never reached her. “I remember now... Mother and the other women, the feathers in their hair... I remember carrying my own tiny pail on the way back from the river, trying to help.” She swallowed. “There are small homes of stone behind the Shrine...”

He sat beside her, taking one of her hands. “You have succeeded, Ayuni.”

She smiled but drew a shuddering breath. “Have I? Never, I fear I know now exactly what I am – who I was destined to become – but I do not know if I can accept it.”

“You speak of the Great Phoenix,” Muka said, his voice soft.

She looked to the nest. “Within lies generations of ashes. Cold coals and the memory of fire, of songs of pure joy and chants of determination. It’s all there, my past and my future – my birthright. But it is cold and empty, what did Mother want me to do? Why did she leave me? I believed with all of my heart that when we finally found this place I would see her again. Am I a fool to have thought it possible?”

Footfalls echoed in the passage. “You are hardly a fool.”

Brother Hiruso entered the light, carrying no weapon.

As before, he moved like a young man, taught with a hidden strength that lurked beneath silver and grey robes. His long hair, no longer white but now an inky black, hung beyond his shoulders, woven with dozens of silver beads. His face was barely lined now; he was a man in his prime – and all of it on the price of Ayuni’s blood.

Flanking him were three warriors – the Hammers.

One Hammer wore a headband marked with Kiymako runes, he carried a bow. Another held a spear with a curved blade and the final man wore a sisan and carried a shorter sword in one hand. All bore impassively calm expressions.

“You will have to come through us,” Never said as he stepped in front of Ayuni.

Muka joined him, the man was already breathing deep and evenly. Preparing his lunai? Never kept his attention on Hiruso. The fellow did not seem perturbed – why would he after their last encounter – but rather, quite pleased by his wide smile.

“Oh, I do hope it will not be so, Never.”

“I will die before I let you take her, you know that.”

He laughed. “Perhaps. But I don’t think that will be necessary. For the Great Phoenix clearly favours me.”

“That’s comforting to know.”

“Isn’t it? Ah, Never. You cannot understand how gratifying it is to have so many pieces fall into place at once, with so little effort on my part – especially considering how long I have wanted to enter this Shrine, but fortunately you and your sister were considerate enough to lead us here and Ayuni herself kind enough to open the way.”

“I did no such thing!” Ayuni charged forward with a shout but Never caught her arm. His own jaw was clenched – no wonder the bastard had not pursued them too closely, no wonder escaping from Yalinamo went so smoothly. Hiruso wanted them to succeed; he needed them to uncover and then unseal the Shrine of the Great Phoenix.

“You certainly did, my dear. Seventeen long years I waited for your Awakening, but you have performed even better than I’d hoped. I owe this moment to you – no-one else could have opened the egg, only the daughter of the Phoenix herself.”

“No.” Ayuni gave a shiver and her eyes hardened. “You are not welcome here, usurper.”

“That will soon be a moot point.” He started forward slowly. “I do not wish to waste your blood if I can help it. So I will offer you surrender but once; I will give you the chance to spare the Amouni and the Sword of Stone, only once, Ayuni. Choose now.”

“Do not believe him, Ayuni,” Muka said, voice firm.

“Hiruso, you are wrong. I am a fool,” Ayuni said. “But I have eyes. I see into your shrivelled heart. Begone lest I sear your flesh from your very bones.”

Brother Hiruso snapped his fingers. “She must live.”

The Hammers sprang forth.