There, among the oak trees and cherry, where little streams ran through stone-lined channels into the lake, I found a few moments of peace. The gentle wind of that clime, in which summer seemed more like spring, cooled my anger. Many of the Maii worked unobtrusively around me, if efforts eagerly and joyfully undertaken could be called work. I understood that they counted it as a privilege to be chosen for the weeding, seed planting and building of the low stone walls that seemed perfectly to fit the well-tended earth. I watched them dirtying their hands in muck and manure, but they appeared to take no taint or displeasure from such substances. Indeed, the garden was so beautiful that it seemed impossible any ugliness could mar its perfection. It wasn't so much that it wouldn't abide evil; rather that which engendered evil – fear, wrath, hate – was out of place here and best left outside its flowering borders. With the birds piping out their songs of praise to the world, I found myself wanting to put aside my ill feeling for Maram (and for myself), much as I would remove a pair of muddy boots before entering a clean house or divest myself of my armor before sitting down to a family meal.
Although I didn't really expect to find the Lightstone set down into a bed of marigolds or filling with water in one of numerous stone fountains sculpted. out of the earth, I kept an eye out for it all the same. But as the sun climbed toward its zenith and poured its honey-light over leaf and lake, I began to forget why I had come to the Maiians' island. For longings and lust, desires and dreams, also had a hard time taking root in that enchanted soil. For hours I sat drinking in the sight of the many flowers there: the redmaids and buttercups, the lilies and yarrow and roses.
Their incredible fragrance devoured the day. The voluptuousness of the land in this lost valley was so full and sweet that it left little room for otherworldly hungers.
It was late afternoon when I came upon a stone bench perfectly sited for viewing two special trees growing atop a low rise near the garden's northern edge. To my astonishment I saw that they were astors, with their silver bark and golden leaves.
Though not so magnificent as those that grew in the Lokilani's wood, their long, lovely limbs spread out beneath the blue sky as if to embrace it and catch its light.
The fire mountain, just beyond the quiet lake, perfectly framed their shimmering crowns. It came to me then that the transformation of the island into a paradise was not an altering of nature but rather its finest and fullest expression: for what could be more natural than the Maii, the Mother's eyes and hands, happily working their art upon the earth? I realized suddenly that I did not wish to leave them. It was as if 1 had journeyed across the whole length of Ea only to find my real home.
Just as the day's last light was fading from the astors' shield-like leaves, Maram came ambling down the path behind me and hailed me. He walked up to the bench and said, 'I heard you were here.'
I motioned for him to sit down beside me, then nodded toward the astors. 'Do you see them, Maram?'
'Yes, I see them,' he said. Then he sighed and continued, 'I'm sorry for what I said last night. I was a fool.'
'And I was worse than a fool,' I said. 'Will you forgive me?'
'Forgive you? Will you forgive me?'
We embraced then, and the chasm between us suddenly closed as if the earth had knitted itself whole again.
'Have you come across any sign of the Lightstone?' I asked him.
'The Lightstone? Ah, no, no, there's been nothing like that. But I have found love.'
He went on to tell me that he had spent most of the morning trying his wiles upon Lailaiu. But his efforts had seemed only to amuse her. Finally, she had held a finger to his clever lips and then offered herself to him as readily as a grover sharing some of the delicious red cherries that grew so abundantly in the many orchards of the valley.
'I was a fool to think of war when love was so close at hand,' he said. 'Why was I such a fool?'
'Perhaps because you wanted the Lightstone even more.'
'Ah, the Lightstone,' he said. 'Well, there's news as to that. Lady Nimaiu has agreed to our purification, whatever that may be. We're to meet by the lake tomorrow morning. After that I suppose, we can enter the temple and see what is there.'
I returned with Maram to our rooms to join our friends in eating another delicious dinner. The mood at the table was one of quiet exaltation, as if the foods that passed our lips had been imbued with a rare, life-giving quality to be found here and nowhere else. Liljana waxed eloquent as she extolled the island's virtues and reminded us that during the Age of the Mother, nearly every part of Ea was like this.
Alphanderry told of how he had spent the day teaching some of the Maiian children to play his mandolet. And they had taught him many things, not only their songs but the simplicity of their untutored voices, which had brought Alphanderry closer to the one Song that he truly wished to sing. Master Juwain, with Liljana acting as his interpreter, had gone about the city collecting stories of the Maiians' past toward the end of piecing together the puzzle of their origins. He had begun learning their language as well, and after another month, hoped to have it all written down. Atara told us that earlier she had walked halfway up the slopes of the fire mountain in order to get a better look at the island. Now, gazing out the window at the lake with dreamy eyes, she admitted that she never wanted to leave it.
Only Kane seemed untouched by the island's magic. After quaffing down the last of his wine, he paced about the room and paused only to growl out, 'So, it's a pretty paradise the Maiians have made for themselves. But if the Red Dragon ever sends a warship here, it will all be ashes.'
His grim words reminded us of why we had cajoled Captain Kharald into bringing us here. After that, we went to our beds in more somber spirits to get some rest and ready ourselves for the coming day.
The next morning before the sun had quite found its strength, we gathered by the lake's eastern shore. It was a fine, clear day with only a few clouds in the sky. Its almost perfect blueness was reflected in the calm, mirrorlike waters of the lake.
Farther out upon it floated hundreds of swans, their folded wings snowy-white, their long, arched necks as lovely as the curve of the heavens themselves.
Maiians from all over the island had already arrived to witness whatever was to occur there that day. They wore plain white kirtles, and sat about the low shelves of lawn sculpted into the earth along the shore. I had a practiced eye, tutored in battle for taking in large numbers of men, and I counted at least five thousand of them. We stood on the lowest shelf of lawn with this multitude behind us and the lake almost directly in front of us. Only a series of white marble steps, following the contours of the lake's edge and actually leading down into it so that they were half-submerged, stood between us and the lapping waters of the lake itself.
Scarcely ten yards in the direction towards which these steps led, three pillars arose out of the lake's shallows. They seemed the remains of a much greater structure that must have once stood there. Liljana, after speaking in hushed tones to one of the temple attedants standing with us, told us that once the lake had been lower but over the ages had risen as it had filled with the Lady's tears. I understood then that we, too, were to be submerged in the water, and this I dreaded because it looked icy cold.
Soon Lady Nimaiu arrived with her six attendants following closely. The kirtle covering her long, graceful body was as white as the swans and embroidered with red roses. She stood with her back to the lake facing us and the thousands of her people behind us on the lawn. Her strong, clear voice carried out as she addressed us and told us that since we had freely requested to be purified, purification would be freely given.
For this occasion, we had ail donned the flowing white kirtles of the Maii. They were spun of the same downy goat fur as our blankets, and were wonderfully soft. I had stripped myself of my armor, of course, as had Kane. But both of us still wore our swords: he because it was his will to do so, and I because I couldn't leave my soul aside even if it was broken.
What followed then was the simplest of ceremonies. Lady Nimaiu spoke of the sorrows which all must suffer, and which only the Mother's even greater sorrows could wash clean. For many ages, she said, since nearly the beginning of time, the Mother's tears had gathered into this lake that the Maii might taste the bitter pain of the world and rejoice in its splendor upon re-emerging from it.
'For this is why,' she told us, 'we were born in pain from the Mother's womb: we are that we might know joy.'
And with no further words, she led us down the steps in turns into the lake. One by one, she held us beneath its rippling surface. As 1 had feared, the water was very cold. In truth, it was bitter. But a short while later, as we stood yet again on the lawn above the steps, the sun warmed us and poured its golden radiance upon our soaked
