large cave far beneath the ziggurat, lit by flickering flames that surged and roared from a great pit. Enormous statues inhabited shadowy alcoves. A great altar flanked each side of the volcanic maw. It looked like a bridge that had been broken. It came to Tyrion that during the ritual in which the Phoenix King ascended he would pass from one of those altars to the other. This was the deepest and most sacred shrine on the island. He was closer to the presence of a god than he had ever been.
A group of masked elves waited there. They indicated that he should disrobe. They walked around him and inspected him minutely.
‘No blemishes,’ said one.
‘No stigmata of Chaos,’ said another.
‘No visible taint,’ said the third.
They chanted together and a glow gathered around each of them and then to Tyrion as the spell took effect. He felt tendrils of magical power pass through him, aware of it in the elven way even if he was not aware of what they were doing.
‘There is no taint in this one,’ said the first masked figure.
‘There is no taint,’ said the second.
‘There is no taint,’ said the third. The flames suddenly surged and roared and it seemed to Tyrion that they twisted for a moment into a gigantic robed figure. The eyes of the priests suddenly glowed, mirroring the dancing flames. Their voices became clearer, more distinct and far less elven. They seemed filled with a transcendent presence that even Tyrion could sense. He wondered if they were about to make the sort of prophesy that his father had talked about.
‘This one will bear the weapons of a Phoenix King,’ said first.
‘This one will wear the armour of a Phoenix King,’ said the second.
‘Weapons and armour both,’ said the third.
‘Pass from this place and walk free, Blood of Aenarion,’ they said in unison. The flaring flames died down. The sense of god-like presence vanished.
‘I am not cursed,’ said Tyrion. His voice sounded loud and awkward.
‘All of the Blood bear Aenarion’s curse, even if only to pass it on to their children. You do not bear the taint of evil and Chaos,’ said the second priest. He felt sure from her voice that she was female. She sounded tired now and certainly nothing more than mortal.
‘Yet,’ said the third.
‘You are pure in the gaze of Asuryan. Pass on into the Light of his Flame,’ said the first. Tyrion walked out through the exit and took a flight of stairs upwards. He emerged onto a ledge that looked out onto the sea. The sunlight seemed blinding after the gloom of the caves. Gulls fluttered away from him and came to rest on a great stone banister.
He smiled. He had passed the test. He would have a life among the elves. And he would bear the weapons and armour of a Phoenix King, if they were correct.
What did they mean by that? Was he to be Phoenix King? Or did they simply mean he would wear gear given to him by a Phoenix King and be a White Lion like Korhien? In any case, it did not seem like a bad destiny.
He stood a little taller and it came to him that he had not even felt the weight of the knowledge of doom pressing down on his soul until it was removed. He laughed out loud and performed a cartwheel on the ledge. He felt fairly certain it had never been used for that purpose before.
He looked up at the sun, and then he wondered what was happening to his brother back down there in the gloom.
The old, patched robe was scratchy and uncomfortable on Teclis’s skin. The air was close, humid and warm. There was a sulphur stink in the air, doubtless from the volcanic springs deep below this place. The carvings on the walls were ominous, disturbing scenes from the life of Aenarion, battle and warfare and bloodshed.
Teclis felt like a prisoner forced to walk a path of doom to his own execution. He did not like this place. He did not like the reason he was here. He did not like being this deep underground.
He felt like he had to force air into his weak lungs. He was having difficulty breathing. The walls pressed down on him. The weight of old earth was heavy. At the same time he was uncomfortably aware that all it would take would be for the ancient volcanoes below this place to stir into life and those walls