Lord of Lies

the wheels of light that concentrated at certain points along the body's spine, Master Juwain called them chakras. The great earth chakras, as he now explained to us, could not only open doors to other worlds but work wonders on the forms and substance of this one.

'How else are mountains raised up?' he asked us. 'Why does the ground shake and split apart in some places on earth but not others? And so with the currents of the sea — or even a lake.'

'Very well,' Maram said to him, 'but I had never heard that anyone could wield these earth currents to move wind and water.'

'Neither have I,' Master Juwain said. 'I should very much like to meet these Lokilani and learn their arts.'

'We'll meet them soon enough,' I said. 'If there's a current here we can row out of it.'

So thick was the mist blinding us that we could not test the water's movement by casting slivers of wood out into the lake. There was a slight wind, but this shifted about strangely, and it was difficult to tell lithe current caused it by pushing us through the air. It was enough I hoped, to sense the current's flow: away from the island and toward the north. All we had to do was to row hard against it.

This we now did. I gave Maram a rest and exchanged places with him. I began working the oars as quickly as I could, lifting them out of the water and dipping down as I pushed forward, only to lower them into the lake a moment later and pull backward against its dark, dense grayness with all the power in my legs, arms and back. Again and again, I heaved against the current; I gasped in cold, wet air through my mouth and gave it back in hot bursts of breath. The boat seemed to sail through the water. And yet it seemed that we moved nowhere.

After a long time, I gave up. I shipped oars and rested my arms on my legs as I fought to breathe against the mist that was choking me.

'It's not so easy, is it?' Maram grumbled at me. 'Row out of the current, you say. Row out of this damned mist, I say. Let's return to shore while we still can.'

I sat up straight and looked off into the mist past the boat's stern, in the direction from which we had come if we had rowed straight. That way must be north, I told myself. Therefore the boat's prow should still be pointed south.

'For pity's sake, take us out of this!' Maram said to me. 'Turn the boat around, Val.'

As my heart thumped inside my chest and pushed pulsing currents of blood up into my throbbing head, it seemed that water beneath us was slowly turning the boat around — and around and around. Or perhaps it was the turning of the world itself that I felt or some fiery current swirling deep Side it. Whatever it was, some strange and irresistible force seemed to take hold of me deep inside, spinning me about and obliterating my sense of direction.

'We're lost, aren't we?' Maram said.

I looked past his great shoulders at the wall of gray behind him. I looked to the right and left, and the grayness swirled no less densely in those directions. Which way was south? There was mist in my mind, and I could not see it.

'Take heart, my friend,' I said to Maram. 'At least this isn t as bad the Black bog.'

Take heart, you say,' Maram sputtered. 'Every time we get in a fix, you remind me that it's not as bad as that filthy, evil place, as if that's supposed to encourage me. Well, so what if this isn't as bad? What's bad enough for you? We could still starve here, couldn't we? We could sink in a storm. And if there are currents protecting the island, then why couldn't there be whirlpools, too? To be sucked down into this damn cold water. . no, no, that's not quite as bad as wandering around that stinking Bog until we rotted, but it's bad enough for me.'

I had nothing to say against this rant. For a while, we all fell quiet. Then Master Juwain said, 'The current might not flow back toward the shore. It seems to me that the Lokilani could better protect their island by a current that flowed around it, like a ring.'

'Oh, that certainly encourages me,' Maram said. 'To think we're caught in some whirl of water that turns around and around their island forever.'

'Take heart,' Master Juwain said to Maram. 'If only we could determine the direction of this flow, we could row crosswise, and so escape it — to go back to shore or continue on to the island, however things fell out.'

But here, caught in this cloud of gray that smothered our senses, moving in our wooden tub as the water moved, there was no way we could think of to feel out the currents of this lake. Can one feel the turning of the earth beneath one's feet?

We were all hungry, and so we paused to eat a meal of cheese and bread. The mist dampened the little yellow loaves that Tembom's wife had given us and caused them to taste like old fish. Not even the brandy that I poured into our cups sufficed to take this rancid taste away.

After that, for many hours, Maram, Master Juwain and I took turns in rowing crosswise against the current — or rather, against the direction we supposed the current to flow. We got nowhere. The mist seemed to grow only darker and thicker about us. I blinked my eyes against its blurring moisture as I tried to make out Atara sitting straight and quiet at the front of the boat. Was her world, when it fell dark, one of perpetual mist? How did she bear it?

'Ah, maybe we shouldn't have cast out those hooks and nets,' Maram said to me. He took a moment to rest from his labor at the oars. 'We could survive a long time here on the fish we could catch.'

'You'll like the Lokilani's food better, when we reach the island,' I told him.

'Yes, if there is an island somewhere in the middle of this damn fog. But I'm beginning to think it was all a myth.'

I felt his fear gnawing at his insides like a rat. Master Juwain, sitting again at the front of the boat, fought his growing doubt by keeping his mind whirling like a wheel. Even Atara was perturbed by the uncertainty of our situation. Her being felt steeped in a cold foreboding that made me shiver. Of all of us, only Estrella betrayed no apprehension. Every time I looked at her, she smiled at me in utter confidence that I would lead us aright. Her deep, trusting eyes seemed to show me a bright flame inside myself that not even the mist's smothering dampness could put out.

'The island can't be a myth,' I said to Maram. 'And there must be way to find it.'

Master Juwain, to occupy himself, began reciting the verses that had led us here:

There is a place tween earth and time,

In some secluded misty clime

Of woods and brooks and vernal glades,

Whose healing magic never fades.

An island in a grass-girt sea,

Unseen its lasting greenery

Where giant trees and emeralds grow,

Where leaves and grass and flowers glow.

For no good reason, I drew my sword and pointed it toward the boat's bow and stern, and then port and starboard. Once, its gleaming silver blade had pointed the way toward the Lightstone. But now that I kept the golden cup so close, Alkaladur shone brightly at all times, no matter in which direction I swept it.

And there the memory crystal dwells Sustained by forest sentinels Of fiery form and splendid mien: The children of the Galadin.

My sword's bright blade now showed only mist: millions of silvery droplets spinning through space like a spray of stars. The swirling pattern recalled a fiery form that was dear to me. I gripped my sword as I interrupted Master Juwain, calling out: 'Has anyone seen Flick.

'Not for the last hour,' Maram said. 'Or maybe it's been a day.'

As always, Flick flamed into being or unbeing according to no rule or logic that any of us had ever been able to determine. Whether whimsy or will moved his swirls of little lights, perhaps not even me angels knew. 'Flick!' I suddenly called out. 'Do you know the way to the island? Can you take us there?'

It was a wild hope, but I wondered if Flick might be able to sense his brethren Tirnpum on the island that must lie somewhere beyond this mist.

'He can't hear you,' Maram said to me. 'And he certainly can't answer you, any more than Estrella can.'

'Flick!' I called out again. 'Flick! Flick!'