- Home
- Ian Irvine
The Tower on the Rift
The Tower on the Rift Read online
The Tower on the Rift
The View from the Mirror: Book Two
Ian Irvine
www.orbitbooks.net
Begin Reading
Meet the Author
Bonus Material
Newsletters
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
PURSUERS OF THE PROSCRIBED
Llian of the Zain: He lives to make the past come alive, but now the ancient hatreds from that past may destroy him…
Karan of Gothryme: Daughter of three worlds, her birthright can lead to incredible powers—or an eternal darkness of the mind…
Shand: For the sake of Llian and Karan, the reclusive hermit must return to acquaintances and a war he walked away from centuries before…
Tensor of the Aachim: His leadership caused his people’s destruction, his quest for revenge may cause their genocide…
Lilis: This waif from the street is a tiny bundle of courage, valor, and fury…
Mendark: Usurped and driven into hiding, this ancient mancer plots to rekindle the inner fires that once made him the world’s most powerful—and feared—ruler…
“The irony of history is inexorable.”
BARBARA TUCHMAN, THE MARCH OF FOLLY
SYNOPSIS OF
THE VIEW FROM THE MIRROR
The View from the Mirror is a tale of the Three Worlds, Aachan, Tallallame and Santhenar, and of the four human species that inhabit them: Aachim, Charon, Faellem and old human. The setting is Santhenar, a world where wizardry—the Secret Art—is difficult, and doesn’t always work, and every using comes at a price—aftersickness.
Long ago a whole race was betrayed and cast into the void between the worlds, a Darwinian place where life is more desperate, more brutal, more fleeting than anywhere. In the void none but the fittest survive, and only by remaking themselves constantly. A million of that race died in the first few weeks.
The terrible centuries ground on. The exiles were transformed into a new human species, but still they could not survive the void. Reduced to a handful, they hung over the abyss of extinction. Then one day a chance came, an opening to another world—Aachan!
They gave themselves a new name, Charon, after a frigid moonlet at the furthest extremity of the void. Escaping it, they took barren Aachan from the Aachim, reducing them to servitude. The Hundred, as the remaining Charon became known, dared allow nothing to stand before the survival of their species.
Despite their efforts, they did not flourish on Aachan. One of the Hundred, Rulke, commissioned the golden flute, an instrument that could open the Way between the Worlds. Before it could be used, Shuthdar, the old human who made it, stole the flute and fled with it to Santhenar. Unfortunately Shuthdar blundered. He opened all the paths between the worlds, and the four species scrambled to get the flute for themselves. Rather than be taken Shuthdar destroyed it, bringing down the Forbidding that sealed Santhenar off completely. Now the fate of the Three Worlds is bound up with those marooned on Santhenar. They have never ceased to search for a way home, but no way has ever been found.
Volume 1
A SHADOW ON THE GLASS
Llian, a brilliant young chronicler at the College of the Histories, presents a new version of an ancient Great Tale, the Tale of the Forbidding, at his graduation telling, to unprecedented acclaim. But Wistan, the master of the College, realizes that Llian has uncovered a deadly mystery—evidence that a crippled girl was murdered at the time the golden flute was destroyed. The crime must have occurred to conceal a greater one, and even now such knowledge could be deadly, both for him and for the College.
Llian is also Zain, an outcast race despised for collaborating with the Charon in olden times. Wistan persecutes Llian to make him retract the tale, but Llian secretly keeps on with his research. He knows that it could be the key to a brilliant story—the first new Great Tale for hundreds of years—and if he were the one to write it, he would stand shoulder to shoulder with the greatest chroniclers of all time.
Karan, a young woman who is a sensitive, was at the graduation telling when Llian told his famous tale. She loves the Histories and is captivated by the tale and the teller. Karan returns to Gothryme, her droughtstricken and impoverished home, but soon afterwards Maigraith appears. Karan owes an obligation to Maigraith, the powerful but troubled lieutenant of Faelamor, and Maigraith insists that she repay it by helping to steal an ancient relic for her liege. Faelamor is the ageold leader of the Faellem, exiled on Santhenar by the Forbidding. Desperate to take her people back to her own world, she believes that the relic may hold the key.
Yggur the sorcerer now holds the relic in Fiz Gorgo. Karan and Maigraith steal into his fortress, but Karan is shocked to learn that the relic is the Mirror of Aachan, stolen from the Aachim a thousand years ago. Being partAachim herself, she knows that the Aachim have never stopped searching for it. Either she must betray her father’s people or refuse her debt to Maigraith—dishonor either way. And Karan has a dangerous heritage: part Aachim, part old human, she is a blending. Blendings, though prone to madness, can have unusual talents, as she has. They are also at risk: sometimes hunted to enslave the talent, as often to destroy it.
Maigraith, captivated by something she sees on the Mirror, is surprised by Yggur. Finally she is overcome but Karan flees with the Mirror into the flooded labyrinth below the fortress, pursued by Yggur’s dreadful Whelm guards. Karan is clever and resourceful, and eventually escapes, but is hunted for weeks through swamp and forest and mountains. The Whelm, who are also sensitive, are able to track her through her nightmares. In a twist of fate, Karan saves the life of one of the Whelm, Idlis the healer. She heads toward Chanthed, a place of haunting memories for her because of Llian and his wonderful tale. Pursued by the Whelm and their dogs, she thinks of Llian as a savior and reaches out to him in her dreams.
Mendark, a mancer who is Yggur’s bitter enemy, hears that the Mirror has been stolen and sends out his lieutenants to find it. Learning from Tallia that Karan is heading for Chanthed he asks Wistan to find her. Wistan, who would do anything to get rid of Llian, orders him to find Karan and take her to Mendark’s city, Thurkad.
Llian is terrified to be cast out of his secure world, yet knows that if he does this task well, Mendark’s name will open any door, and he will surely solve the murder and make his Great Tale. He travels into the mountains in a romantic dream.
At the tiny village of Tullin he dreams that Karan is calling for help and wakes to find two Whelm at his throat, trying to trace her sending. Llian is rescued by Shand, an old man who works at the inn but is more than he seems. After asking Shand for help but being refused, Llian heads out into the snow to find Karan. Eventually he does, after many perils, but crashes into her hiding place and knocks himself out at her feet.
At first Karan feels that Llian is a dream come true, but the great teller is revealed to be callow and awkward. Worse, he does not take her seriously, and when he tries to get her to go to Thurkad with him Karan grows angry. Sith is her destination, and to pay her debt she must give the Mirror to none but Faelamor. That night the Whelm find her again and, full of mixed feelings about Llian, she flees with him into the high mountains.
After a number of narrow escapes they lose their pursuers, but Llian gets mountain sickness and they begin to
run out of food. Karan has no choice but to head for Shazmak, a secret city of the Aachim, where she grew up. She is afraid to go there with the Mirror, and more afraid to take Llian to a place forbidden to outsiders.
Eventually she talks the Aachim, among them her cousin and friend Rael, into allowing Llian in, but soon learns that Tensor is on his way to Shazmak. The leader of the Aachim is so dominating that Karan knows she can never keep the Mirror secret. Karan agonizes over whether to break her vow and give it to the Aachim, but realizes that the Mirror would be too great a temptation. They are proud but not wise, and their history is littered with disastrously pursued follies. Rulke the Charon was the architect of all their misfortunes, and though he has been imprisoned in the Nightland for a thousand years, Tensor has never ceased to search for a way to exact revenge on him.
As it happens, Tensor has already heard about the Mirror from Mendark. Tensor sends a message to Shazmak, to Emmant, a cunning blending with a thwarted lust for Karan. While Llian searches Shazmak for evidence that will help him with his quest, Emmant shows him a book of Aachim Histories, but he has put an enchantment on the book and Llian reveals that Karan knows about the Mirror.
Tensor returns and Karan is brought to trial, for the Mirror cannot be found. It is impossible to lie to the Syndics, but Karan, in a desperate expedient, plants a false dream in Llian’s mind, and through a link with him, reads it back to the Syndics at her trial. Because Llian believes it to be truth, it is truth, and despite Tensor’s protests she is freed. However, Emmant is spurned by the Aachim for his dishonorable act, and this drives him into madness.
That night, with Rael’s aid, Karan and Llian escape from Shazmak, hotly pursued by the Aachim. Stealing a boat, they flee down a wild river. Rael and several of the Aachim are drowned in the chase, and Karan is devastated. Despite the trial they were her friends.
In Yggur’s stronghold, Maigraith is tormented by the Whelm, who have an instinctive hatred of her. Later, under Yggur’s relentless interrogation, she gives away Karan’s destination, the city of Sith.
Yggur is desperate to get the Mirror back, which he needs for his coming campaign. However, as the weeks pass a bond grows between them, Maigraith finding in the tormented Yggur the complement to her own troubled self. She also sees that, though the Whelm serve Yggur faithfully, they despise him, especially for the relationship with her which to them is a fatal weakness. But the Whelm are born to serve, and they lost their true master so long ago that they have forgotten him.
Now readying his armies for war, Yggur is torn between his growing regard for Maigraith and his need for the Mirror. One night the Whelm come for Maigraith when he is away, and under their torment she betrays the truth about Karan’s origins. The Whelm are exultant—now they know how to attack her.
The same night Faelamor appears, using her mastery of illusion to get into the fortress. Overcoming the Whelm, she snatches Maigraith away. However, Faelamor is furious when she learns that Karan has escaped with the Mirror. Faelamor hates Karan because she is a sensitive and a threat to her plans, and threatens to kill her if they ever meet again. Inwardly Faelamor despairs because the Mirror, that she has sought for so long, has eluded her again. Once before she almost had it, but Yalkara the Charon, her greatest enemy, defeated her. Yalkara used the Mirror to find a warp in the Forbidding, the only person ever to escape from Santhenar. Now Faelamor’s own world, Tallallame, cries out for aid and she is desperate to return. What Yalkara could do, Faelamor must do, and she has corrupted herself trying to. She has been hunting for the Mirror, one vital part of her ageold plan, ever since.
Faelamor and Maigraith set off toward Sith. Maigraith is reminded that whatever she does, Faelamor is never satisfied. She falls back under Faelamor’s domination.
Yggur returns to find Maigraith gone. He feels her loss keenly but he can delay his plans no longer. His armies march on the east.
Karan and Llian flee through mountains and caverns, hotly pursued by Tensor and his Aachim, and down into the forests of Bannador, Karan’s own country. At a forest camp she has a terrible nightmare and wakes to find that the Whelm have tracked her down again. This time she is helpless for they know she is a blending and how to control her. Desperate, Karan seeks out with her mind and finds Maigraith not far away. But the link is captured by a terrifying presence, who uses it to speak directly to the Whelm, reminding them that they are really Ghâshâd, ancient enemies of the Aachim. Karan sends Llian away but is captured herself, though the Whelm are unable to find the Mirror.
Maigraith feels Karan’s link but by the time she gets to the camp Karan is gone, and the Mirror too. Faelamor is furious. Maigraith rebels, abandoning her. Faelamor is captured by Tensor and sent to Shazmak, where to her horror she learns about Karan’s Aachim heritage. Faelamor already suspects that Karan has Faellem ancestry as well. If so, she is triune: one with the blood of three worlds. A terrifying prospect—no one can tell what unpredictable talents a triune might have. Faelamor decides that the risk to her plans is too great—Karan must die. She sends mad Emmant to hunt Karan down. Through him the Ghâshâd find a way inside Shazmak and butcher the Aachim there, but Faelamor escapes.
Llian recovers the Mirror from Karan’s hiding place, eventually finds her and tries to smoke the Whelm out of the house where they hold her prisoner. The building catches fire; Karan and Llian are lucky to escape. Llian hires a boat and Pender, a magnificent boatman who has fallen on hard times, takes them down the river to Sith. On the way, Karan and Llian find that they can deny their feelings for each other no longer.
Reaching Sith, they discover that Yggur’s armies have taken all the lands to the south and are massing on the other side of the river. The city cannot stand against him. Nor is Faelamor there to take the Mirror. Karan collapses, unable to drive herself any further. She is wracked by nightmares about the Whelm, who since she was captured seem to have grown more powerful. As the invasion begins she is betrayed, but escapes with Pender, a perilous journey where Karan is so tormented that she casts herself into the sea. Llian and Pender drag her out again. Now there is nowhere to go but to Mendark. Karan is afraid of him too.
They reach Thurkad not far ahead of the war. Llian goes to the citadel, not realizing that Mendark has been overthrown by Thyllan. A street urchin, Lilis, guides Llian to Mendark’s refuge. Mendark and Tallia offer to take Karan in, but angered by Mendark’s imperious manner, she refuses him.
Not long after, Maigraith comes to Thurkad. Karan is overjoyed and tries to give her the Mirror, but Maigraith asks her to keep it one more day. Before she returns, Emmant appears in disguise and attacks Karan in a murderous fury. She stabs him dead but is driven into madness; then Thyllan captures Karan and the Mirror.
As all the powers gather in Thurkad, Mendark realizes that the only way to recover the Mirror is to call a Great Conclave, which even Thyllan must obey. During the Conclave they all put their case, and Karan tells her story. As the Conclave ends, a messenger bursts in with news that the army is defeated and Yggur is at the gates of the city. Faelamor shatters Tensor by revealing that the Whelm are actually his ancient enemies, the Ghâshâd, onetime servants of Rulke, who have taken Shazmak and slaughtered the Aachim there. She lies, blaming Karan for this treachery.
Karan is sentenced to death, while the Mirror is given to Thyllan to use in the defense of Thurkad. Seizing the moment, Faelamor calls forth Maigraith, whom Tensor has never seen before, and Tensor knows by her eyes that she is descended from the hated Charon.
Tensor breaks and uses a forbidden potency, or mindblasting spell, that lays the whole Conclave low. Only Llian the Zain is unaffected. Thinking Karan dead, in grief and fury he attacks Tensor but is easily captured. Tensor sees a use for someone who is immune to the potency. He flees with Llian and the Mirror.
PART ONE
1
THE WAIF
The Great Hall was dark. The glow from the burning city did not penetrate the velvet drapes. The shouts, thescreams, the c
lash of weapons up the hill—all just a murmur from far away. In the room there was no conscious being, no intelligent life. The broken door banged in the wind, the hinges bawled, striking a dreadful lament, crying to the dead to rise. The members of the Conclave lay silent.
Hours passed. In the darkness one man dreamed. Dreamed that he lay cast down and senseless while the army of his mortal enemy poured through the gates of Thurkad. Get up! he screamed. Only you can save your city. But he could not wake.
The tramp of marching feet echoed in his dreams—they were hunting him! He gave a wrenching groan that tore through the fog in his brain and woke, bolt upright in the dark. His heart was racing. Where was he? Hardly knowing his own name, aware of little more than a growing terror, he felt around him. The things he touched were blank pieces. He could not put a name to the least of them
A horn blasted, not far away. Panicking, the man clawed himself to allfours, sagging across the room like a rubberkneed crab, tripping over bodies, cracking his head against a table leg. Something smashed under his weight, the shards stabbing into the palm of his hand. He picked out pieces of curved glass, feeling the blood run down his arm. Smelling spilled oil on the floor, he felt around for the lantern but his numb fingers snapped the flint a dozen times before it lit. He lurched in swaying arcs back and forth along the rows of benches, then fell down in front of a tall woman who lay on the floor like a fallen statue. Yellow light bathed long limbs, dark hair, skin as rich and smooth as glazed chocolate. Her eyes were open and her lips wet, but the woman made no sound, gave no sign that she saw anything.
With shaking hands he brought the lamp down to her eyes. It registered nothing. The light showed him clearly—a slim man of average height and uncertain age, with blue eyes and thin, wild hair. His sallow skin was sunk into deep creases; his scanty beard was lank.