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it to be a great and joyous occasion, not something rushed like a secret
wedding.
'It's just a ceremony. I already know the Xauroma. I've felt it, I've touched
the xauroth sphere.'
'And that's more than you should have done, without proper initiation. You are
deluding yourself, my daughter. A newborn child can wonder at the glitter of
jewels, but has no idea what he's looking at.
Whatever you think you know, I promise you that until your true entry into the
mysteries, you are working with the understanding of an infant.'
Helananthe was offended. 'For an infant, then, I think I'm doing reasonably
well so far.'
'I did warn you that my counsel may not be what you want to hear,' Ariolne
said crisply. 'Also, you cannot sit upon the Sapphire Throne until you are
crowned.'
'I know.' She took a deep breath. 'Very well, good mother, I did ask for your
advice. It's not what I
planned, but I'd better be crowned as quickly as possible. Arrangements could
take weeks, though.'
'No,' said Ariolne. 'Once we set things in motion, you can be crowned within
seven days.'
Reeling inwardly, Helananthe decided to ask nothing else for the time being.
She couldn't admit it, but initiation into the Xauroma was the one thing she
dreaded.
They were entering the upper levels of the palace now. As they walked down the
long, bright gallery that led towards the Sun Chamber and other state rooms,
Derione appeared and came striding towards her, looking anxious.
'Your majesty, I've just received some news. I couldn't find you.'
'Well, here I am. What is it?'
The deputation from Thanmandrathor has entered Parione. They are on their way
to the Amber
Citadel now. They are demanding to see you, and our messengers report that
they are furious. What should I say to put them off?'
'Nothing,' said Helananthe. 'Welcome them, feed them, and bring their leaders
to the Sun Chamber.
I'll be waiting for them.'
Chapter Five. Falthorn
'I am Falthorn, your uncle,' said the dark-haired Aelyr. 'Your father's
brother.'
He clasped her hands and the moment seemed to stretch out forever. Tamhe
watched in a trance of amazement as the others followed him into the forest
hall. Aelyr men and women, fifty or more. She remembered her mother describing
a procession of Aelyr she'd seen years ago.
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'The light around them was a pale glow and it sparkled like a field of stars .
. . All these veiled figures moving slowly against this soft shining light. .
.'
and the breathless excitement stirred by those words now rushed through Tanthe
like flame. The image was just as she'd imagined yet different; these Aelyr
were not veiled in evanescent grey, but dressed in black and blue, violet and
silver. They came in like the night sky, velvet-dark but full of stars. The
crystalline music of the night grew louder as if it travelled with them,
wrapped around them in spirals of light. Suddenly the music seemed to plunge
right inside her. This was real and she was in the midst of it! Her whole body
thrummed with a rush of wonder and fear.
'Can she remember anything?' Falthorn said, turning to Auriel.
Auriel shook his head. He looked anxious, but so lovely, his auburn hair
floating around his shoulders.
'Only her human life. Nothing apart from that.'
'Not even her name?'
'My name's Tanthe!' she said, indignant at them talking across her.
'Of course. A perfectly good human name. said Falthorn.
Two of the Aelyr were coming towards her, a man and a woman in silvery robes.
They were as regal as a king and queen, their hair brushed back from long,
radiant, alien faces. Falthorn turned, holding out his hand to them.
'My mother Lady Cielemne and my father Lord Valthiell. Your grandparents.
Look, here is Auriel's sister at last!'
She felt she should bow, wasn't sure it was correct, ended up giving an
awkward slump of her shoulders. Close to, their faces were as smooth as pearl;
there was little to hint at their age except their proud carriage, their aura
of power and authority. The man's hair was dramatically streaked with black,
steel grey and white; the woman's dark brownish-black, like Tanthe's. She had
a jewel in the centre of her steep forehead, the same deep blue as her irises,
like a third eye.
They didn't smile. They didn't even touch her. They simply regarded her with
intense searching interest, until she felt she would melt under the heat of
their gaze.
'Can she remember her Aelyr name?' said Lord Valthiell at last. Even his voice
sounded alien. High and powerful like a horn, full of strange rich notes.
My grandfather?
Tanthe thought. A very far cry from her human grandfather Osforn, the
gardener, self-contained and gnarled as a little oak tree. Even further from
her other granddad, the generous but drunken Lan.
'Alas, no,' said Falthorn. 'We are not sure she was ever given one.'
'Of course she was given one. said Valthiell. Talthaliorn and Fiomir must
have named their own child.'
The names resonated.
Talthaliorn, Fiomir.
She couldn't think of a thing to say, but they didn't seem to require any
response from her. They stared at her as if from a great height, and then they
turned away, and others were coming past. People as strange and beautiful as
Auriel, some of them smiling, some staring.
'Your cousins, Ostarial and Alviath, Faerlim and Nialorn Tanthe was
confounded; it would take time to remember all their names, to put them to the
right faces. Some of them kissed her hand, some her cheek; her skin shivered
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