She looked down at her feet, down at the solid rock on which she stood. And she knew suddenly what voice made that growl.
It was the rivers. All the enchanted rivers of the Hidden Land, flowing beneath them.
Although she could not know if this was true, she believed it nonetheless. And for some reason she could not name, believing gave her hope.
“Come closer, sword-bearer,” said the Speaker, turning to the chamber door, where the scrubber stood between his two guards. They led him in, and the other warriors followed, though the priestesses and acolytes remained without, clutching torches and staring into the darkness surrounding them.
“Behold your weapon,” said the Speaker as the scrubber was brought before her. With a sweep of her hand, she indicated Halisa.
The scrubber regarded it mildly. “Yup. That’s my sword,” he said.
“This, the blade with which you twice slew the Flame at Night,” said the Speaker. Her tone was incredulous, almost questioning, as she gazed from the stone-chipped sword to the wizened little beggar. “This, the blade with which you quenched her flame.”
“Same one,” said he, looking up at her. “Mind you, I was a bit spryer! There’s been a lot of water under the stone since then.”
“With this sword, you will meet your doom at the hand of the Flame,” said the Speaker. “Now take it up, old one, and bear your death to her hands.”
The scrubber cracked his knuckles, each one giving off a sharp snap. As nonchalant as though Cook had just asked him to fetch an iron ladle, he stepped up to the stone, reached out, and let his gnarled hand hover over the hilt. And as he reached for it, a strange thing happened. The stone flaked away in dry flecks of dust and debris. The nearer his skin came to touching the hilt, the brighter it grew, until it was no longer carved stone at all but wrought silver. Engraved with images of the sun and the moon and the stars, it shone as bright as any of the heavenly host.
Mouse could not breathe. She could scarcely bear to look away from that brilliance, from that glory come down from the sky and hidden here in the darkness beneath the worlds. But when at last she turned to study the faces of those around her, she saw only dullness in their eyes. Could they not see the change that had come upon Halisa?
“Wait.” The scrubber, his hand poised in the air, turned suddenly and fixed Mouse with a slant-eyed glare. “What’s she doing here?”
The Speaker looked at Mouse, who met her eye only briefly before looking away. She knows, Mouse thought desperately. She knows what I’m going to do!
But the Speaker said only, “She is my servant. Faithful and brave.”
“Send her out,” said he. “I don’t want her in here.”
Mouse turned to her mistress, hands trembling as she clutched the end of the red robe. The Speaker looked down at her coldly. “Go, Mouse,” she said. “Wait for me outside. Our labor here is almost done.”
Dropping the train, Mouse hastened to obey. Her heart beat wildly as she passed between the eunuchs and escaped through the doorway arch into the coldness of the Diggings. The priestesses and acolytes around her were like so many red-tinted ghosts in the torchlight, black hollows where their eyes should be.
Halisa glowed upon the stone.
The rivers beneath the floor roared in distant protest.
“Take the sword,” said the Speaker.
Ancient fingers closed upon the still more ancient hilt. Though his arm was too skinny to support such a weapon, the scrubber lifted Halisa from its bed. It slid from the black stone as simply as it might slide from its sheath. Rising, it shone brighter, brighter even than the ever-burning flame atop the Spire.
The scrubber stepped back. Halisa was far too heavy for him, and after shivering for a moment in the air, the sword came to a ringing crash upon the floor, breaking tiles beneath its blade. But the old man kept his hold on the hilt. Heaving, he lifted the weapon upright again and, tottering with each step, made his way to the door.
The eunuchs parted to give him room. The Speaker drew up behind him, her head higher than the hunch of his shoulders. Mouse saw her face, full of joyless triumph.
The scrubber stood beneath the arch. “You know,” he said, “I put a guard on this door. If anyone other than me or my heir tried to take Halisa from here, they should die. A harsh protection, I’ll grant you, but didn’t I just know people like you’d come poking around down here? I’ve won myself a number of enemies and lost a number of friends over the years. A man can’t be too careful.”
“Enough,” said the Speaker. “We must hurry. My goddess awaits.”
“Yes, she does, doesn’t she?” the scrubber muttered.