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He tried not to think about what it meant。 The episode had blurred his Deryni perceptions for just an instant； though he seemed to be all right now。 He tried to tell himself that the dizziness came of moving his head too fast； or from lack of food； or from trying to keep his link open to Dhugal at the same time he was walking about…but he knew better。 He had read about caves like this； though he had never dreamed there were any in Gwynedd。 The natural fumes found in such caves could sometimes induce visions or prophetic dreams； and too much of them could kill。
For that； at least； he thought he need not worry。 If his captors had wanted him dead； there had been ample opportunity for that。 Danger there might be in his present situation； but he really did not think his captors would allow the fumes to reach lethal levels。
The fumes could be the trigger for an inner testing； though； he realized； as he got another whiff and felt the vertigo again； stronger than before； so that he had to shake his head several times to clear it。 It was said that in ancient times； such caves often were used as places of initiation； where the candidate must lie down before the god's image and breathe narcotic gas； in hopes of receiving a prophetic dream。 If the method had been sufficient for the ancients to gain munication with their gods； perhaps it also followed that the method would suffice for munication with a saint though he had to wonder how the Christian folk of Saint Kyriell's had happened upon such an archaic practice。
But； no matter。 Further speculation or resistance likely was pointless。 Kelson had said he wished further knowledge of Saint Camber； this was his testing； to see if he was in earnest。 On one level； it was the archetypal descent into the underworld； a symbolic death and rebirth in the power and knowledge of the god…force…in this case； cloaked in the mythology of Saint Camber。 And since he could not escape the ordeal； it behooved him to make the most of it and learn as much as he could。 If this was the method that Camber's Servants embraced…and they seemed to hold it in great reverence and esteem…then it must have some merit。
Breathing as shallowly as possible； lest he succumb to the fumes before he had time to prepare。 Kelson staggered to the pile of sleeping furs and sank down cross…legged； almost falling； pulling one of the furs across his lower body against the chill。 To protect his physical body if he lost all consciousness…which was almost certain； judging by his increasing lightheadedness…he conjured a protective circle around himself； warding it conscientiously as Morgan and Duncan had taught him。 It would not keep out the fumes； but it certainly would be a deterrent to any physical entity attempting to take advantage of his helplessness…for he recalled accounts of human agents sometimes assisting the forces of the divine； priests and priestesses of the old gods often taking on the guise of heavenly messengers to guide initiates toward the desired conclusions。 Kelson had no quarrel with sacred drama…for that was what it was…but if Saint Camber did vouchsafe a vision to him。 Kelson wanted to be certain that the saint's will was untainted by that of his Servants； no matter how well meaning they might be。
And so Kelson set his hands on his thighs； cupped palms upturned in receptivity； and gazed up at the statue of the saint； breathing more deeply of the fumes now…which were also being more concentrated； as the minutes slipped by and no vent was opened to let them dissipate…and feeling his internal guards gently slipping away as he sank into a profound meditative state； akin to that needed for deep De…ryni rapport。 In an attempt to nudge any resultant vision in the desired direction； he recalled the one time he personally thought he might have had contact with Saint Camber…at his coronation； when a grey…cowled apparition； seen only by himself； Morgan； and Duncan； had appeared from nowhere to place his hands on Kelson's crown； acclaiming him a king for Deryni as well as humans。
He could feel his body relaxing more with every breath； increasingly in thrall of the vapors rising from the pool； but he kept trying to focus his increasingly muzzy concentration toward that earlier vision； seeking the saint； drifting lethargically on a tide of dreamlike expectation。
No thread of Kelson's concentration or his present circumstance penetrated the many feet of rock separating him from Dhugal； however。 Brother Michael and the girl Rhidian had returned to kneel together on the altar step； and Bened and Jilyan sat on either side of Dhugal。 but they no longer even bothered to interfere by shielding around him。 Dhugal feared it was because the two knew he could not penetrate with his powers beyond the door where the king had disappeared。
Still； he could not abandon his brother and liege lord to the mercies of these unknown folk； simply because they claimed to reverence the same saint…and a Deryni one； at that…that Dhugal and Kelson had e seeking。 Kelson might be in mortal danger even now； depending upon Dhugal to make the difference in whether or not he survived…as he had depended upon Dhugal for his physical survival earlier； when he lay so badly injured。
Huddled cross…legged and miserable on his straw mat； the hood of his grey cloak pulled far over his brow to block outside distractions； Dhugal clung to the two Camber medals like talismans against evil； one cupped in each hand； trying to use their proximity to amplify his now almost nonexistent contact beyond the closed door。 Concentrating on the face on one of the medals； he tried to shape a form of the same vision that Kelson sought； drawing on everything that his father； Kelson； and even Morgan had ever shared with him about Saint Camber。 And he； too； raised his heart in prayerful entreaty to the lost Deryni saint。
For Kelson； time slipped； disjointed； until eventually he had no idea how long he had been sitting at Saint Camber's feet…though he sensed a mild stiffness in his knees and back； a desire to move and stretch； after sitting cross…legged for so long。 The vapor in the chamber was like thick fog now； making it far easier to envision features on the statue's face。 He tried to imagine what it would be like if the statue came to life and spoke to him； visualizing the robed arms lowering…for surely they were tired after supporting the crown for all these years…picturing the head lifting just enough that Kelson could see features within the shadow of the hood。
And suddenly it was so！ In Kelson's dreamlike state； now fully submerged in his own trancing as well as the effects of the narcotic mist still rising from the pool。 he stared aghast as a ghost of the statute seemed to step outside itself； the stone figure still standing with arms eternally holding up the crown； but a more vital and powerful entity； spectrally transparent； freeing itself from its stone prison to float slowly toward him。
Kelson's heart was pounding as he watched the thing approach。 He longed to back away from it； but he could not seem to force his limbs to move。 He gasped as the apparition came up short against the barrier of his wards and spread its hands in a silent entreaty； its hood slip