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"We are come today, Brethren," said Samah from his place at the head of the
table, "to sunder the world."
CHAPTER 25
THE SEVENTH GATE
THE CHAMBER KNOWN AS THE SEVENTH GATE WAS CROWDED with Sartan. The Council of
Seven sat around the table; all others stood. Alfred was shoved against a wall
near the back, near one of the seven doors. The doors themselves and a series
of seven squares on the floor in front of each were left clear.
The faces so near his were strained, pale, haggard. It was, Alfred thought,
like seeing himself in a mirror. He must look exactly the same, for he felt
exactly the same. Only Samah seen occasionally when there was a shift in the
numbers of people who surrounded him appeared master of himself and the
situation. Stern and implacable, he was the dire force holding them all
together.
If his will falters, the rest of us will crumble like moldy cheese.
Alfred shifted from one foot to the other, trying to ease the discomfort of
standing for such an interminably long period. He was not normally
claustrophobic, but the tension, the fear, the crowded conditions were
creating the impression that the walls were about to close in on him. It was
hard to breathe. The room suddenly seemed a vacuum.
He pressed back against the wall, wishing it would give way behind him. He had
wonderful, wild visions of the marble blocks collapsing, the fresh air flowing
inside, the vast expanse of blue sky opening above him. He would flee this
place, flee Samah and the Council guards, escape back into the world, instead
of away from it.
"Brethren." Samah rose to his feet. The entire Council was now standing. "It
is time. Prepare yourselves to cast the magic."
Alfred could see Orlah now. She was pale, but composed. He knew her
reluctance, knew how vehemently she had fought this decision. She could. She
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was Samah's wife. He would never cast her into the prison along with their
enemies, not as he had done some of the others.
The Sartan stood with heads bowed, hands folded, eyes closed. They had begun
sinking into the relaxed, meditative state required to summon such vast
magical power as Samah and the Council were demanding.
Alfred endeavored to do the same, but his thoughts refused to focus, went
dashing about desperately, running hither and yon with no escape, like mice
trapped in a box with a cat.
"You seem unable to concentrate, Brother," said a low, calm voice, very near
Alfred.
Startled, Alfred looked for the voice's source, saw a man leaning on the wall
beside him. The man was young, but beyond that it was difficult to tell much
about him. His head was covered by the cowl of his robe and his hands were
swathed in bandages.
Bandages. Alfred stared at the white linen wrappings covering the man's hands,
wrists, and forearms, and was filled with a vague sense of dread.
The young man turned to him and smiled a quiet smile.
"The Sartan will come to regret this day, Brother." His voice changed, grew
bitter. "Not that their regret will ease the suffering of the innocent
victims. But at least, before the end, the Sartan will come to understand the
enormity of what they have done. If that is of any comfort to you."
"We will understand," Alfred said, hesitantly, "but will understanding help
us? Will the future be better for it?"
"That remains to be seen, Brother," said Haplo.
It is Haplo! And I am Alfred, not some nameless, faceless Sartan who once,
long, long ago, stood trembling in this very chamber. And yet, at the same
time, I am that unhappy Sartan. I am here and I was there.
"I should have been more courageous," Alfred whispered. Sweat trickled down
his balding head, soaked the collar of his robes. "I should have spoken up,
tried to stop this madness. But I'm such a coward. I saw what happened to the
others. I ... couldn't face it. Though now, perhaps, I think it would have
been better ... At least I could live with myself, though I wouldn't live
long. Now I must carry this burden with me the rest of my life."
"It isn't your fault," said Haplo. "For the last time, quit apologizing."
"Yes, it is . . ." Alfred said. "Yes, it is. For each of us who have turned a
blind eye to prejudice, hatred, intolerance ... it is our fault . . ."
"Reach out, Brethren," Samah was saying. "Reach out with your minds to the
farthest point of your power and then reach beyond that. Envision the
possibility that this world is not one, but has been reduced to its elemental
parts: earth, air, fire, and water."
A single sigil began to shine blue in the centers of four doors. Alfred
recognized the symbols one for each of the four elements. These, then, were
the doors which would lead to the new worlds. He began to shiver.
"Our enemies, the Patryns, have been confined to prison. They are now
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