The Infinity Gate

  “Stay away from me!” she hissed, managing to get to her feet, both her hands still held tight against the spot where, many months ago, the Skraeling had dug its claw deep into her flesh.

  “Stay away!” she said once more, then stumbled away from Isaiah forcing him to release his hold.

  Lamiah and the other men were on their feet by this stage.

  “What —” Lamiah began.

  “I have no idea,” Isaiah said, his eyes following Hereward as she walked unsteadily away into the night. “I have no idea at all.”

  “Grab my hands!” Avaldamon shouted, and Maximilian and Ishbel spat out water, shaking their heads, reaching for Avaldamon’s, and Serge’s and Doyle’s, hands.

  “The river!” Ishbel said as she managed to find firm footing.

  “Ishbel!” Maximilian said, and wrapped his wife in an embrace so tight that she laughed in protest.

  Everyone was laughing and hugging each other.

  “You did it!” Avaldamon said, trying to prise Ishbel away from Maximilian and not succeeding. “The pyramid is gone . . . gone!”

  They all turned to look over the river. There was nothing where DarkGlass Mountain had been save a low cloud of drifting dust. No stones, no glass.

  Nothing.

  “Are you all right, Ishbel?” Maximilian said. “You’re bruised . . . and cut .”

  “I am well enough,” she said. “They are just scrapes. Oh, I have so much to tell you!”

  “The One?” Maximilian said.

  “Gone, I think,” Ishbel said. “I saw him crumble before my eyes. He tried to use the power of Infinity within the very machinery of DarkGlass Mountain and it only accelerated his own destruction. Can you feel him? Avaldamon?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  “Nothing,” Maximilian said. “What did —”

  “Look!” Ishbel said, laughing anew. She reached into the water, searching with her hands, then she straightened, holding up the Book of the Soulenai. It dripped water everywhere, but looked otherwise undamaged.

  “I am well, the Book is returned, the river is made water once more, the pyramid is destroyed, and the One with it,” Ishbel said. She grinned wildly, looking about the group. “Is this it? Can we go home now? Are we done?”

  Maximilian kissed her. “We are done, Ishbel. We can go home.”

  Neither of them saw the shadow of worry in Avaldamon’s eyes, but he smiled when they turned to him, and nodded.

  “Yes, we can go home.”

  In the Outlands, the Skraeling surge northward faltered suddenly.

  The One’s presence had abruptly faded.

  I think, said the leader among them, that we ought to proceed with a little more caution. Just until we hear from the One again.

  Part Two

  Chapter 1

  The Outlands

  Isaiah walked through the camp, looking for Hereward, when suddenly he stopped. His eyes stared, his mouth opened. He felt . . .

  Whole.

  He bent over, resting his hands on his knees.

  His power was filtering back!

  Isaiah could hardly believe it. He had thought he was reconciled to a mortal life without power, but now .

  Was this a trick of the One?

  Taking a deep breath and straightening up, Isaiah tested himself (hardly daring to, in case it was a trick!) by sending out a probe, trying to scry out the One.

  His power worked perfectly, but he could feel nothing of the One. Nothing.

  Nothing.

  And the river was back! Isaiah could sense it flowing in delight, full of life as it swept down from the FarReach Mountains toward Lake Juit.

  The River Lhyl flowed again.

  Isaiah sank down and sat in the dirt. All about him the camp was rousing for the day, but he just sat there in the dirt, his eyes gleaming, ignoring the curious looks sent his way.

  The water was back.

  His power was back.

  He was whole.

  The river was back.

  He was whole.

  DarkGlass Mountain was gone. Every sense of it had vanished. It was gone.

  And the One . . . Isaiah could not feel him at all.

  He, too, was gone.

  Isaiah gave himself one moment of sheer happiness, then he rose to his feet. It must have been Maximilian or Ishbel, or both. Nothing else could have managed the destruction of the One or of DarkGlass Mountain.

  Isaiah chuckled. “I had not thought either of you capable of managing it,” he said softly, “but I am more than glad to be proved wrong.”

  He couldn’t decide what to do next. Talk to Hereward? To Lamiah? To the damned juit birds and find out why they were here and what they knew? Try to communicate with Axis, or Maximilian, or Ishbel?

  Out of all those possibilities, Hereward was coming a distant last, but as he turned to retrace his steps Isaiah saw her tent and decided he might as well speak with her while he was here.

  Besides, she would be pleased to learn he had his power back.

  Smiling happily (and drawing strange looks from the soldiers for that smile), Isaiah walked over to Hereward’s tent.

  “Hereward?” Isaiah lifted the flap and looked inside.

  Hereward was sitting on her camp bed and looked at him irritably when he came in.

  “I do not need you,” she said.

  “Nonetheless,” Isaiah said. He came over and sat down beside her, then carefully lifted away the linen she had pressed against her neck.

  “Be careful!” she snapped.

  “I will be careful,” Isaiah said. The wound had started to coagulate — it had not been as bad or as deep as the original had been, although frightening enough — and was only seeping a pinkish fluid now.

  Isaiah wondered why it had reopened. What did it signify? Was it just another effect of the destruction of the pyramid and the One, and the rebirth of the River Lhyl?

  Or was there some darker mystery behind it?

  His fingers probed at Hereward’s neck and she hissed at him, making Isaiah look at her sharply.

  “Don’t touch it, Isaiah,” she said. “There is nothing you can do to —”

  Isaiah’s fingers ran over the soft scab, just lightly, and suddenly it was healed, completely sealed over.

  Hereward twisted her face about to stare at him. She lifted her own fingers to her neck, and her eyes widened. “What did you do? How .?”

  “I have my power back, Hereward. I am whole.”

  Hereward stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Whole?”

  Isaiah laughed, softly at first, then louder in sheer joy. “The river god is back, Hereward. What say you?”

  “That I preferred the man,” she said, and her tone was so dismissive that Isaiah’s laughter died, and he rose and left the tent.

  Isaiah walked to the edge of the encampment, irritated at Hereward. Once again he thought how good it would be to leave her behind.

  Or to hand her over to her father Ezekiel at Elcho Falling.

  “She has never been anything but trouble,” Isaiah muttered to himself.

  He reached the edge of the camp, walked about ten paces toward the juit birds, then sat down, bowing his head as he did so.

  Isaiah may have had his powers as river god restored, but the juit birds were so magical as to be barely of this world. They deserved his respect.

  The birds turned to regard him with their bright black eyes, then one walked forward and, a pace away from Isaiah, fluffed out its feathers and sank to the ground.

  You have returned to us, Mighty One, said the bird. We thought to have lost you forever.

  I thought to have lost myself, Isaiah said. Tell me, what brings you here?

  A great transference of power. Something came down from this land to the glass obscenity —

  Isaiah had to restrain a smile at the bird’s description of the pyramid. — and in return, here we are. There was a balance required.

  Isaiah nodded, understanding. It was the Lord
of Elcho Falling who came to the pyramid?

  We do not know who it was.

  It must have been Maximilian, likely with Ishbel, Isaiah thought, and then did smile, thinking that they were working very hard to avoid him!

  What can you tell me, bright-feathered one?

  That the mass of grey wraiths approach, Isaiah. They are, perhaps, but three hours away. Are you ready?

  Eleanon and Bingaleal sat on a mountain top several hours’ flight from Elcho Falling.

  They had flown there this very morning in the space of just three breaths. For a long time they sat in silence, revelling in the growth of their potential, in their union with Infinity which had brought them so much power — ever-increasing — and at the sight of Elcho Falling in the far distance which they could just pick out in the darkness.

  As they cast their gaze about, both Lealfast men could see as far as Escator to the west, to Elcho Falling in the east and to the foothills of the FarReach Mountains in the south.

  They did not cast their eyes northward. They never wanted to see the frozen wastes again. It had been a prison for too long.

  “Interesting times,” Bingaleal said eventually, and his brother sighed and stretched his arms.

  Frost crackled and fell from his skin, which gleamed a soft ivory in the morning light.

  “DarkGlass Mountain is no more,” Bingaleal said.

  Eleanon shrugged, now rubbing the last of the frost from his biceps. “It was an aberration,” he said, “whichever way you look at it. I am surprised it lasted this long.”

  “Ishbel did it.”

  Eleanon bared his teeth, just a little. “She thinks to be so clever. One day she will be unwound.”

  “And the One .?”

  Now Eleanon smiled genuinely. “Ah, the One. They have no idea. Likely they celebrate, thinking him gone.”

  “Will he be a trouble to us where he is?”

  Eleanon thought a little. “I doubt it. I think he has almost forgotten us. After what has happened at DarkGlass Mountain, his attention will be entirely and absolutely on Ishbel and Maximilian. For the One, Elcho Falling can wait. This is personal for him, now.”

  “He hasn’t been in touch.”

  Eleanon chuckled. “Would you? With all that has happened this night? No, of course he has not thought to speak with us. He would not, in any case, as it might well reveal his presence to those inside Elcho Falling. So we will be careful, Bingaleal. We shall continue on with our plan. Everything we do appears to be in his favour, too. The One shall not trouble us.”

  “I like the idea very much that it is the StarMan from whom we must wrest Elcho Falling,” Bingaleal said. “Maximilian was never the real enemy. Never a challenging enemy. Axis is. StarMan” He said that last with a curl of his lip.

  “I felt his fear and frustration when we attacked.”

  They both sighed, remembering, revelling.

  “We must be careful,” Eleanon said after a moment.

  “Inardle. We can no longer trust her.”

  Eleanon looked at Bingaleal. “Did you ever? You must have known that the instant she went to Axis’ bed she was compromised. She was useful for only a short while.” He shrugged.

  “She could be dangerous.”

  “Then we must fix that.”

  “She knows a little too much, Eleanon.”

  “Then we will fix that, too.”

  Bingaleal nodded, then changed the subject. “The Dark Spire?”

  “It continues to grow. It waits. For Ravenna. Once she enters Elcho Falling, then it will become what we need.”

  “Do you have any idea how you will get her inside?”

  “Not yet. But when the chance arrives, I will seize it.”

  “And Ravenna?”

  “She needs a little . . . work,” Eleanon said. “I need to alter Ishbel’s curse. But there is no rush. No need for us to show our hand just yet.”

  He paused, thinking, then resumed speaking. “Isaiah is coming. The Skraelings are coming — I can just see them, in the far distance, the revolting little sprites. Axis will want to save Isaiah from the Skraelings and from us . . . and Inardle may well suggest the way. Bingaleal . . . I suggest it might be foolish to try and stop them just yet. It might be best to allow —”

  “Axis and Inardle to escape. To actually save Isaiah?”

  “Yes”

  Both grinned simultaneously.

  “Axis will not be able to resist the saving of Isaiah,” said Eleanon. “And it will be the death of him, and of Elcho Falling.”

  “And of, finally, every last remaining Icarii. It is time they were wiped from the face of this world and from all memory, brother. Time, indeed.”

  The two Lealfast sat on that mountain top until late morning, in silent accord, rejoicing in the certainty that soon they would be masters of the world.

  Chapter 2

  Elcho Falling

  Axis received the summons from Josia just as he was running down the stairs to find Georgdi, who was currently reviewing security in the lower reaches of Elcho Falling.

  Axis moved to the nearest window. “Josia?”

  Josia sat there in his window a few paces away, hovering in the clear air, as he had been the last time he had talked to Axis.

  “Good news, Axis. Maximilian and Ishbel have succeeded. DarkGlass Mountain is destroyed. Gone. No more.”

  “Ah, thank the stars!” Axis felt relief flood through him. Finally, good news! “They are well?”

  “Yes. Both are well.”

  Axis grinned, the day suddenly bright. “And the One?” “Gone. Dead, they say.”

  “Is that possible? He drew on the power of Infinity itself.”

  Josia shrugged disinterestedly. “It is what Maximilian told me to tell you.”

  “Well, then, if Maxel said it was so, then it is so. I thank you, Josia. This is blessed news indeed. Are Maxel and Ishbel on their way home now?”

  “Where else?”

  Axis ran lightly down the stairs, whistling under his breath, all his other troubles forgotten in the face of this bright news. He saw Georgdi in the spacious foyer of Elcho Falling and stopped for a brief chat.

  “DarkGlass Mountain is gone?” Georgdi said.

  Axis was still grinning. “Aye, and Ishbel and Maxel safe. Georgdi, we need to send a boat to them. Do you have any means of contacting any boatmen, or ships? It should be such an easy thing, yet we are bottled up here in Elcho Falling with no means of communication with the outside world.”

  “Not quite no means,” Georgdi said. “I have men roaming the Outlands. Give me a day or two and I can pass a message to a band of them and —”

  “How?”

  Georgdi gave a small shrug. “The sun. A small mirror. It can be done. They can contact a boatman in Margalit or one of the smaller ports south. Someone will be able to sail to pick them up.”

  “Good.” Axis clapped Georgdi on the shoulder. They talked a few more minutes about security issues then Axis continued his way down the stairs.

  He wanted to see what was happening with the Dark Spire now that DarkGlass Mountain was gone and the One with it.

  With any luck the spire would have withered into the size and threat of a sausage left for eight weeks in the sun.

  He reached a chamber just above the lowest basement which contained the Dark Spire. StarDrifter was there, conferring in close whispers with several other Enchanters.

  StarDrifter turned and Axis was surprised to see deep worry in his face.

  “Good news, StarDrifter,” Axis said. “DarkGlass Mountain is destroyed. The One with it. Maximilian and Ishbel are on their way home. How .” he paused, wondering why there was no expression of relief or joy on StarDrifter’s face. “How goes the Dark Spire?”

  “Badly, Axis,” StarDrifter said. “In the past hour it has grown remarkably. None of us can enter the lowest basement level now, for the spire’s dark tentacles reach everywhere.”

  He stepped aside, and indicated the fl
oor. “Look. This happened just before you arrived.”

  Axis looked to where StarDrifter pointed, and all his happiness faded.

  There was a dark streak spreading across the floor.

  A crack.

  As he watched, the floor began to break wide open, and everyone hastened for the stairs.

  The Dark Spire was ascending.

  Chapter 3

  Aqhat

  They sat on the river bank in the morning light, a fire blazing, eating a meal. Their mood was jovial and there was much shared laughter. Every so often one or the other would turn their head to look across the river to the great emptiness where once DarkGlass Mountain had stood.

  Avaldamon watched Ishbel turn and look one more time, and he smiled.

  “Boaz and Tirzah would be proud of you,” he said. “That was one almighty achievement, Ishbel.”

  Maximilian smiled, reaching to squeeze his wife’s hand. “Indeed it was.”

  “Did Josia say anything about Axis?” Ishbel said. Earlier, Maximilian had spent a little time in the Twisted Tower, talking with Josia.

  “No news,” Maximilian said. “All Josia wanted to talk about was how you had managed the destruction of the pyramid and the One, Ishbel. But I imagine that this news will lighten Axis’ heart.”

  The mood sobered. “Mayhap the One is gone, and the pyramid,” said Serge, “but the Lealfast and the Skraelings still thrive. I wish I were there to help.” He grinned. “I came down here expecting a decent fight . . . and look what I got. Nothing!”

  Again they laughed together.

  “Ishbel,” Avaldamon said as the laughter died, “what did you find in the Infinity Chamber?”

  Ishbel told them about the Book of the Soulenai, and the rat. “He was my courage, the courage taken from Josia as he died so many years ago. Has anyone set eyes on this rat since the pyramid collapsed?”

  “He surfaced just before you,” said Maximilian, “but I have not seen him since.”

  Avaldamon nodded at the book lying by Ishbel’s side. “What does it say now, Ishbel?”

  She picked it up and opened it, turning over the pages, a frown deepening. “Nothing, Avaldamon. Its pages are blank. It tells me nothing.”