[Chrono Trigger Novel - Episode 44] The Pendant That Opens the Door
There were no guards at the palace of Zeal.
As they crossed the bridge of light from Kajar, the colossal doors parted of their own accord. The hall beyond smelled of incense and warm water. Crystals floating near the ceiling filled the space with the brightness of noon, though no sunlight reached within.
Marle found the light unsettling.
Blue lines wound around every pillar like roots, and the same radiance pulsed beneath the floor. The power supporting the islands, feeding Kajar’s laboratories, and flowing through Enhasa’s spring all converged here. It felt less like entering a beautiful palace than stepping inside the body of some enormous creature.
Crono appeared to feel it too. He made no attempt to touch the columns. The bandage around his side was fresh, but he still leaned to one side when he walked.
Ayla sampled the scent of each person who passed. The courtiers whispered at the sight of her, but none ventured close.
“People here smell afraid.”
“They all look peaceful enough,” Marle whispered.
“Peaceful people not look behind so much.”
Ayla was right. Even in the middle of conversation, people stole glances toward the northern corridor. A door stood there, larger and darker than any of the others, blue script inscribed across its black surface. It bore the same pattern as the sealed doors they had found among the ruins of 2300.
Without thinking, Marle closed a hand around her pendant.
“That door still existed in the future.”
Crono nodded. He remembered the dome where starving survivors had huddled among dead machines, and the door they had never managed to open. Here, long before the world’s ruin, its markings looked newly made.
At one side of the hall, a young woman stood cradling a flowerpot. Its leaves drooped, and the soil was dry. When Marle approached, the woman hid it behind her back.
“That plant needs water.”
“Her Majesty has forbidden us to waste power on useless life.”
“What use does a flower have to prove?”
The woman could not answer. After a moment, she lowered her voice.
“The Guru of Life gave me this sapling. He said it was a tree that could grow even on the earth below. After Melchior disappeared, the order came to destroy this as well.”
“Don’t throw it away,” Marle said. “The people below may need it. Plant it where no one will see.”
The woman glanced toward the northern corridor and drew the pot closer to her chest.
“You are not one of the Enlightened.”
“Maybe that’s why I can say it.”
The woman gave the smallest of nods.
Three bells rang in the distance. Everyone in the hall stepped aside.
A young woman in ceremonial white emerged from the eastern corridor. Long blue hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back, while luminous ornaments rested against her brow and breast. The people bowed as she passed.
Princess Schala.
The boy they had met in Enhasa followed her, the black cat at his heels. The boy stopped when he saw them. The cat looked toward Crono first and gave a low cry.
Schala followed her brother’s gaze. The moment her eyes found Marle’s pendant, her composure faltered.
“That pendant…”
She started toward them, but an attendant hurried in from the north.
“Princess, Her Majesty is waiting. The Prophet has already entered the throne room.”
Schala’s hand closed around the pendant at her own breast. A blue stone like Marle’s lay at its center. The setting was slightly different, but even the motion of the light inside was the same.
The boy caught his sister’s sleeve.
“Don’t go.”
“Janus.”
“Mother’s voice isn’t Mother’s anymore.”
The attendant glanced around in distress. Schala bent until her eyes were level with her brother’s.
“I’ll be back soon. Wait in your room with Alfador.”
“You always say that.”
He let go of her sleeve but did not step away.
Schala touched his cheek and rose. By the time she looked at the three strangers again, the composed face of a princess had returned.
“I do not know where you have come from, but you should leave the palace now.”
“Is this because of Lavos?” Marle asked.
Schala stopped.
Every sound in the hall seemed to recede. The attendant drew a sharp breath. Janus looked not at his sister, but at Marle.
“How do you know that name?”
“I saw it fall. A very long time ago, from the sky to the earth.”
Fear came into Schala’s eyes before suspicion. She was about to ask another question when the bell sounded again in the north.
“Princess.”
At the attendant’s urging, Schala turned away. She stopped before the black door and raised the pendant at her breast.
A single ray shone from the blue stone. The script carved into the door awakened, spreading outward like ripples. The seamless black surface divided, and cold air flowed from within.
Schala passed through. The door soon closed behind her.
Marle looked down at her own pendant.
“Why does something my mother left me look just like hers?”
Crono approached the door. A faint mark remained at the center of the pattern where Schala’s pendant had touched it. He held out his hand to Marle.
She lifted her necklace and pressed the stone to the same place.
Nothing happened.
“The stones may look alike, but yours is empty of power.”
A languid voice drifted from behind them.
A large man in purple leaned against the stair rail. His hair was tied high, and his mouth wore the smile of someone who had dismissed them before they even met.
“Lady Schala’s pendant has received the power of the Mammon Machine. A door like that will not be fooled by an imitation, no matter how costly the jewel.”
“You’re Dalton?” Marle asked.
One of the man’s eyebrows rose.
“For an Earthbound savage, you know a great deal.”
Ayla stepped forward.
“You ride black fake bird?”
“If you mean the Blackbird, I command her. And she is not a fake bird, but the finest craft of this age—”
“Looks slower than bird.”
Dalton’s smile vanished. A red flame kindled at his fingertips.
Crono moved in front of Ayla and gripped his sword. Marle raised her bow, though Dalton noticed as quickly as she did that her quiver was empty.
He looked over all three of them and snorted.
“The Prophet told me to report any strangers. But what threat could you pose when you cannot even open that door?”
The flame went out.
“The Mammon Machine is in the western wing. Go and admire it, if you like—assuming you don’t burn before you get close.”
Dalton had shown them the way on purpose. Laughing, he disappeared up the northern stairs.
Marle glared after him.
“He’s testing us.”
Ayla opened and closed her fists.
“Then beat test.”
Crono looked from the western corridor to the sealed black door. The Prophet was likely waiting for them. But they could not turn back. Zeal was drawing power from Lavos, and that power was connected to Marle’s pendant.
At the end of the western corridor, a Nu in a blue robe blocked their way. With its round body, short limbs, and a mouth that filled most of its face, it was difficult to tell whether it was a person or an animal. Ayla tilted her head. The Nu tilted its head in exactly the same way.
“The Mammon Machine is operating,” it said. “If you go too near, it may draw out even the dreams inside your heart.”
“What happens if dreams gone?” Ayla asked.
“You would be lighter, I suppose.”
“You become empty person.”
The Nu considered that, then stepped aside.
“I like that answer.”
The chamber beyond felt larger than the entire palace. Dozens of metal rings revolved slowly in midair. At their center stood a massive engine built of red crystal and black metal. Pipes descended from beneath it, piercing the floor and plunging to an unseen depth.
A pulse shook the room.
Thud.
The wound in Crono’s side answered.
Thud.
Ayla did not cover her ears. She put one palm flat against the floor and bared her teeth.
“Lavos. Under us.”
Marle approached the machine. Her necklace pulled taut, as if the pendant were trying to rise from her chest. A red glow unlike anything she had seen before began to spread through the blue stone.
“If I hold this to it, we can open the door.”
“And that thing might open you.”
Marle turned toward Crono, eyes widening. It was rare for him to speak first.
He kept his gaze on the machine and held out one hand. He was not telling her not to do it. He was telling her not to do it alone.
Ayla took Marle’s other hand.
“Three do together.”
Marle clasped both hands as tightly as she could and brought the pendant toward the red crystal.
Light exploded.
Unfamiliar scenes tore across her vision all at once: a black palace rising from beneath the sea; the floating islands falling apart; Schala imprisoned in light, her eyes closed; and bright red hair spread across a field of white.
Marle choked back a scream. Crono pulled her away while Ayla seized the pendant’s chain and tore it free of the machine.
The light in the chamber subsided.
The blue stone had changed. At its center, a tiny flame beat like a star.
Without speaking, the three returned to the black door.
This time, when Marle pressed the pendant to the inscription, light spread across the surface. The black panels parted. Beyond them lay a long, shadowed throne room.
At its farthest end, a woman sat upon a high seat. Schala stood beside her with her head bowed. At the foot of the steps waited a man in a black cloak.
He had been staring toward the door before it opened.
The line of the shoulders they had seen at the window.
The stillness of a wounded beast—the same posture they had last faced in Magus’s Castle.
A cowl shadowed half his face. But when Crono’s hand closed around his sword, the faintest smile appeared at the man’s lips.
“At last, you’ve come.”
It was the Prophet’s voice.
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