Chapter 228: Forgiven

The light grew as they went down.

It came up the hollow of the Spindle grey and cold, and then less cold. By the middle of the waking, Logan could see the far wall of the shaft across the hollow, carved with the same long rows of people carrying stones.

The carvings changed as they went lower.

There were fewer stones in the carved hands. More of the carved people walked upright, with empty arms. At the bottom of the stair, the last carving showed two people standing face to face.

One of them was holding out a stone. The other was taking it.

Neither of them was bent under it. They were both holding it together.

"Huh," said Garen. He stopped to look. "That is the first cheerful one."

He waited, as if he expected his wife to answer.

Isolde walked past it without looking.

The stair ended at an arch.

It was cut in the foot of the Spindle, tall and plain, and the grey light came in through it. Billy went out first. Logan heard him stop.

"Boss," he said. "There are stones. A lot of stones."

Logan went out after the units, into the light.

It was a plain.

It was flat and grey, under a high pale glow that had no source. The ground was dust, soft and fine, and it went away on every side as far as he could see.

The plain was covered with cairns.

They were piles of stones. Some were knee high. Some were taller than a house. They stood everywhere across the grey dust, alone and in clusters. There were thousands upon thousands of them.

Paths ran between them. On the paths, a long way off, Logan could see people walking.

They walked slowly. Most of them were bent over. Some were bent so far that their faces were near the dust.

They were carrying stones.

The panel opened as the last of the family stepped through the arch.

[ You have entered the Ninth Layer. ] [ Blessing of the Ninth Layer: Forgiven ] [ Curse of the Ninth Layer: Forgiven ] [ What is forgiven in love is set down. What is not, you carry. ]

Logan read it.

Then Garen grunted, as if somebody had punched him in the stomach, and went down on one knee in the dust.

There was a stone in his arms.

It had not been there an instant before. It was grey and rough, the size of a loaf of bread, and he was holding it against his chest with both arms as if he had picked it up himself.

His face had gone red with the effort.

"Garen!" Isolde was beside him at once. Alice came running after her and dropped to her knees at her father’s other side.

"I am fine." He tried to stand. He got halfway up and went down again. "It is heavy. It is very heavy, dear. I cannot put it down."

He tried. Logan watched him try. He opened his arms to let it fall, and the stone did not fall. It stayed against his chest as if it had grown there.

Isolde stared at it.

Logan saw her understand. He saw her face go white, and then red.

"It is mine," she said.

"What is?" said Garen.

"The stone. It is me." Isolde’s hands were shaking. "I have not forgiven you. For walking out into that thing. For telling me not to look."

Garen looked at the stone in his arms. Then he looked up at his wife.

"Ah," he said.

"You could have died. You were inside its mouth, and I was not allowed to look at you. I had to stand there and look at our daughter while you..." Isolde stopped. She pressed her hand over her mouth.

"I know, dear."

"I am still angry."

"I know."

Isolde knelt down in the dust in front of him. She put both her hands on the stone, over his.

Nothing happened.

"It does not work," she said. "I want it to, and it does not."

"Because you are still angry," said Garen gently. "It is all right. I can carry it for now."

Logan looked down at his hands, and then at Alice’s. They were empty.

"Nothing?" said Alice.

"Nothing."

Helen had her hands on Daniel’s arms, turning him round to look at his back. Bram was patting his coat as if he expected to find a rock in a pocket. Edda was laughing at him.

Behind them, somebody else went down.

Logan turned. It was Rishin.

The old man was on his knees in the dust outside the arch. Vina had his hand in both of hers, and she was pulling at it.

He had stones in his other hand.

There were three of them. One was a pebble, no bigger than a thumbnail, sitting on his palm. The other two were larger. They were grey and smooth and small, each no bigger than an egg.

He was holding them as if they weighed more than the whole Spindle. His arm shook. His head was bowed over them.

"Grandpa?" Vina tugged harder. "Grandpa, get up."

The old man did not get up.

Vina looked at the stones in his palm. Logan saw her look at the smallest one, the pebble.

"Is that mine?" she said. "Is that because I was cross? About the promise?"

Rishin did not answer.

Vina let go of his hand. She took the pebble off his palm between two fingers.

It came away. She held it up in front of her face and looked at it. Then she opened her fingers, and it fell into the dust at her feet.

"There," she said, glaring at it. "I forgive you. I do not even want to be cross with you any more."

The old man’s arm shook less.

The two other stones stayed where they were.

Vina reached for them.

She took hold of the first one with her whole hand and pulled. It did not move. She pulled with both hands, and her face went red, and it did not move at all.

"It is not mine," she said. Her lip was trembling. "Grandpa, whose is it?"

"They are old ones, little one."

He did not look up from his hand.

"Leave them," he said. "They are mine to carry. Nobody here can take them off me."

Vina stood looking at him. Her hands were clenched into fists.

Logan looked at the two small grey stones in the old man’s palm. He thought of the carving on the landing in the Spindle, of the old man sitting on the stair with his hands round two stones, not getting up.

He thought of the thread going down into the dark.

Rishin got up.

He did it slowly. He set his free hand on Link’s arm, and Link lifted him, and he came up out of the dust onto his feet. He stood bent over, with his hand curled round the two stones and pressed against his chest.

He was breathing hard. He did not fall.

"Walk, little one," he said. "In front of me."

Vina looked at him. Then she wiped her face on her sleeve, and she took his free hand, and she turned round and started walking along the nearest path between the cairns.

The old man walked behind her, bent and slow, with two stones in his hand.