The Infinity Gate

  “Was there not a time you could not wait to be rid of me?” Isaiah said.

  “Once upon a time,” said Lamiah, “when I was lost in fairytale ambitions.”

  Isaiah nodded, then his grin faded, and he turned back to wade forward through the hissing birds.

  He walked to some five paces past them, and stopped.

  The Skraeling had halted another three paces away. Its silver orbs, so obscenely unbalanced, watched him unblinkingly.

  It looked very sure of itself.

  In reality, the Skraeling was extremely unsettled.

  The One, who had guided the Skraelings to this point with clear instructions and purpose, had vanished. His presence was no longer apparent to the wraiths. They could no longer sense him, although they did not quite believe him dead.

  Just gone.

  Off somewhere.

  And he’d forgotten to tell them about it.

  This was not only deeply hurtful to the Skraelings, it was highly unsettling. It made them nervous.

  Worse, this army they had suddenly happened upon was led by Isaiah.

  God of the waters.

  The Skraelings hated water, and they hated and feared Isaiah because of who he was. When the One had been with them and had wrapped them in his power, they had been able to ignore Isaiah, even approach him.

  But now, with the One vanished .

  The Skraelings did not like Isaiah. He made them feel not only uncomfortable, but also ashamed of themselves, and they could not understand why.

  Thus they had slowed as they approached Isaiah’s army, and now they prevaricated, and sent ahead this Skraeling, one of their leaders, the most courageous of them, to see what they could discover.

  The Skraeling decided to bluff, to see if he could startle Isaiah into revealing some information.

  “We demand to speak to the One,” the Skraeling said, wishing he didn’t slaver so when he spoke. “Now.”

  “The One is gone,” Isaiah said. He was watching the Skraeling carefully, and the Skraeling was feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

  “We know you’re hiding him,” he said. “We’d like to speak to him.” He only barely stopped himself from saying “please”.

  Isaiah narrowed his eyes, and didn’t speak.

  “Please,” the Skraeling finally blurted. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t started on this conversation.

  “The One is dead,” Isaiah said.

  The Skraeling grinned, now feeling more sure of himself. “No,” he said, “the One is not dead. Only .” he stopped, adopting what he hoped was a sly expression. “We know you have him. We’d like to speak with him. Now.”

  The tip of Isaiah’s tongue emerged, touching his upper lip, and the Skraeling understood that Isaiah was himself uncertain and unsettled, and so the Skraeling felt more comfortable.

  “The One is within my camp?” Isaiah said.

  The Skraeling, who had no idea at all, suddenly saw the means to create mischief.

  “Yes,” he said, “and we’d like to speak —”

  But Isaiah was gone, striding back through the sea of pink birds, and the Skraeling was left standing, staring after him, wondering what it had accomplished.

  Isaiah strode back to Lamiah.

  “We need to go back to camp,” he said. He paused, staring toward his army. “We need to speak with Hereward.”

  Chapter 6

  Elcho Falling

  Axis sat, elbows on the table, leaning his head in his hands. At the other end of the table StarDrifter was giving his opinion — loudly and very volubly — of Inardle’s proposal that she and Axis go to the Skraelings.

  Egalion, Garth Baxtor, Georgdi and Insharah sat, utterly silent, watching Axis and listening (as if they had a choice) to StarDrifter’s thoughts on the matter.

  The worst thing, Axis decided, was that whatever StarDrifter said it would make no difference. He had seen from the faces of the other four men that they were all in favour.

  Stars, how had Inardle won their support?

  No, that wasn’t the worst thing. The worst thing was that he could feel, deep deep down within himself, a bright flame of interest in the idea.

  Oh, how good it would be to get out of this cursed beautiful prison of a citadel and be doing instead of always reacting/

  The idea of looking danger in the face and slipping underneath the cordon of Lealfast who besieged the tower appealed to Axis; the idea of riding wild across the plains in an attempt to save Isaiah appealed to Axis, and the idea that he could soon meet with the friend he had thought dead was even more appealing. Even the idea of trying to outwit the loathsome Skraelings appealed to Axis, although he shuddered at the title of Lord of the Skraelings for himself.

  And, above all, he could leave behind the problem of the Dark Spire, which had now broken through into the next basement level and was growing ever upward. No one had a way of stopping it and Axis was beyond frustration in trying to find a solution. Damn it! f Maximilian could escape, then why couldn’t he?

  If only Inardle hadn’t been the one to suggest it.

  If only it didn’t depend almost wholly on Inardle for its success.

  If only it wasn’t Inardle who Axis would have to ride wild with across the plains.

  He’d much prefer Georgdi. Why in all stars’ names didn’t Georgdi have some magical affiliation with the Skraelings?

  Suddenly Axis had a thought . . . ride . . . horses . . .

  “The plan can’t succeed,” he said, raising his head out of his hands.

  “It has problems, yes,” Georgdi said, “but —”

  “Inardle said she could get just one person and one person only out of Elcho Falling with her, yes?” Axis said, waving StarDrifter into silence.

  Georgdi nodded slowly, wondering where lay the trap.

  “No one else?” Axis said.

  “No,” Georgdi said slowly, exchanging an anxious glance with Insharah.

  “We won’t be able to get horses out,” Axis said. “If Inardle’s power is so weak —” he could not resist the jibe, even though she was not present to hear it “— then she certainly cannot spirit out horses for us as well. Oh yes, she can fly, but I can’t. I, at least, will need a horse . . . more than one if we are to travel fast. So you suggest it is feasible that —” Georgdi was starting to smile, which worried Axis, but he ploughed on regardless “— I somehow manage to walk all the scores of leagues to wherever Isaiah is before the Skraelings eat him into the dust? The plan doesn’t make sense, Georgdi. It is an enjoyable fantasy, nothing more.”

  Now Georgdi was leaning back in his chair, grinning widely, his fingers laced across his chest. Suddenly he took a deep breath and let out a piercing, three-toned whistle.

  Everyone in the room jumped, and Georgdi laughed.

  “Learn that whistle, Axis,” he said.

  Axis just glared at him.

  Georgdi was clearly enjoying himself hugely. “Outlanders always plan for the loss of horses. We leave horses to run freely across the plains, and, in the event that we lose our own mounts, all we need do is whistle that pretty little ditty and, if any horses are in the vicinity, they will come. Those tones carry long distances. Sit and wait an hour or two and you never know what will turn up. Just take a couple of bridles with you — if Inardle wants to ride instead of fly — and you will have your horses. I am certain there will still be many left roaming the plains. When I was riding to meet with you at Elcho Falling we left scores of them behind. They’ll still be about. Shall I tell Inardle that you’ll be leaving in an hour or two, then?”

  Chapter 7

  The Outlands

  Isaiah marched through the camp to Hereward’s tent, Lamiah a step or two behind him.

  He couldn’t get out of his mind the image of the blood spurting out of the healed scar on her neck at the same time as the One had vanished.

  That had to be of some significance.

  Hereward was standing outside her tent. Her face was white a
nd strained and she had her arms crossed protectively in front of her.

  She kept glancing in the direction where the Skraelings were gathered, and she looked very, very scared.

  But was she truly? Isaiah wondered.

  “I need you to come forward with me,” he said.

  “Why?” Hereward said.

  “I need you to come closer to where the Skraelings are. I want them to see you.”

  “No! Why?”

  Isaiah studied Hereward. She looked terrified — as a normal Hereward should, having previously almost lost her life at the claws of a Skraeling.

  But was she a “normal” Hereward?

  Isaiah was still not as powerful as he had been once — it seemed his abilities were returning at their own sweet pace — but, still, he should have been able to scry out whether or not Hereward was other than what she should be.

  He should have been able to scry out the One’s presence in her.

  What if the One hadn’t died? What if he had simply shifted existences? And if it wasn’t Hereward, then who else within this vast army?

  Isaiah could ascertain nothing about Hereward. It was as if his power probed at a brick wall. He couldn’t even tell if she were a mere woman, let alone the One in disguise.

  That worried him more than ever. She was a kitchen steward, in the name of the gods. She shouldn’t have the ability to resist Isaiah’s probing.

  “Why do you want me closer to the Skraelings?” Hereward said, and Isaiah could hear the fear in her voice.

  “Because they have asked to see you,” Isaiah said, and took her by the elbow.

  “Isaiah?” Lamiah said.

  “No!” Hereward tried to pull out of Isaiah’s grip, but he was too strong and, ignoring both her cries and Lamiah’s puzzled expression, Isaiah pulled Hereward forward, closer to the southern border of the camp.

  She protested all the way and as they drew close her protests gave way to tearful entreaties, but Isaiah closed his ears to her. He dragged her all the way through the juit birds, stopping just inside their southernmost edge.

  The Skraeling still stood a little distance away.

  “Well,” Isaiah said to it. “Is this what you wanted?”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” the Skraeling said, his face all creased in what appeared to be puzzlement. Then his face cleared a little. “Would you like me to eat her?”

  Hereward wailed, clearly terrified.

  “No!” Isaiah hissed at the Skraeling. “I thought you wanted to talk with . . . her.”

  “And make friends?” said the Skraeling, now apparently enjoying himself enormously.

  “No!” Isaiah hissed, and the Skraeling grinned hugely, then turned about and shuffled back to the mass of his fellows.

  “What is going on?” Lamiah said to Isaiah, who still gripped the elbow of a fear-stricken Hereward.

  “I don’t know,” Isaiah said, looking at Hereward. “I just don’t know.”

  Hereward finally jerked away from Isaiah and, moving as fast as she could, pushed her way through the birds toward the camp.

  Isaiah watched her go, his face hard. “I want a guard put on her, Lamiah. I want no one to speak to her or go near her apart from giving her food.”

  “Isaiah —”

  “I don’t know what is happening here, Lamiah. I don’t know what the Skraelings are doing, or what they want. I do not know why they haven’t attacked.”

  “Why Hereward?”

  “I have told you about the One.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “I have told you that DarkGlass Mountain has been destroyed and the One along with it.”

  “Yes. Isaiah —”

  “The Skraeling told me the One was still alive. It intimated the One is now in our camp. I think the One may be residing in Hereward.”

  Lamiah now shifted his gaze to the retreating form of Hereward. “How sure are you?”

  “There is something wrong about her, Lamiah, but I cannot scry it out. It is a ‘new’ wrong, and dates from the moment of DarkGlass Mountain’s destruction.”

  “Then as you order,” said Lamiah, “so shall it be.”

  He set off after Hereward, and Isaiah turned one more time to watch the Skraelings. They were still waiting, watching, and Isaiah thought he would give his right arm right then and there to have his questions answered.

  “Well?” said the several other Skraelings as they milled about the one they had sent out to talk with Isaiah. “What should we do? Attack? Eat? Go around them?”

  The Skraeling who had spoken with Isaiah shook his head. “Just wait. There is something happening. Something coming. We wait. If Isaiah moves, then we follow.”

  “Did Isaiah know where the One is?”

  The Skraeling grinned. “He has no idea.”

  The other Skraelings did not share his amusement. “Then what are we to do? The One has gone, we have no direction. No one to tell us where to go and what to do. Should we go home? Home to the frozen northern wastes?”

  A great murmuring arose among the Skraelings.

  Home to the frozen northern wastes.

  “No,” said the Skraeling. “We wait a while, and watch, and see. I think . . . ”

  “What?”

  “I think there is something coming.”

  Chapter 8

  Elcho Falling

  “The last thing you need to do,” Georgdi said as he rubbed a little more dirt into the lines of Axis’s newly shaved face, “is to look like the StarMan setting off to save the world. The Lealfast are sure to see you wandering along, so you need to look as much like a shepherd as possible.”

  Axis did not reply. He was already in a foul mood, and the fact that Georgdi remained resolutely cheerful was driving him even further into ill-temper. He’d had his hair dirtied and dyed so it looked a faded brown, his beard was gone, he’d been forced to dress in clothes that bore more than a passing resemblance to rags, he had no weapon apart from a small eating knife, and Inardle was leaning against the far wall watching him with an expressionless face that Axis was sure hid amusement.

  “You do realise you won’t be able to use your power, don’t you?” she said.

  Axis glared at her.

  “Any Lealfast within a league will feel it,” Inardle said. “Don’t use your power, don’t touch the Star Dance.”

  “I understood you the first time,” Axis said. “But I still am not sure how you can hide us from the Lealfast. I thought you could still see each other when invisible.”

  “There are two ways of invisibling,” Inardle said. “The second way will also hide us from Lealfast sight. It is difficult to accomplish; thus, the reason I can only take one other with me.”

  Axis gave a small shrug, as if indifferent to her response.

  “Be careful, Axis,” Georgdi said, the humour gone from his face and voice.

  Axis nodded. “And you be careful of Elcho Falling, Georgdi. Don’t take any nonsense from your underlings.”

  The others in the room — StarDrifter, Egalion, StarHeaven and Insharah — managed to smile at that, although their humour faded quickly in the tense atmosphere.

  “Travel down the coast to begin with,” said Georgdi, “then strike inland. Hopefully, you will run across Isaiah and his army soon enough.”

  “And, hopefully, it is before you run into Kezial,” Insharah said. “Maybe stick to the coast for four or five days, Axis. Kezial will be inland.” He looked at Inardle. “You will stay invisible?”

  “For the most part,” she said. “I can hide myself better from my fellows that way . . . materialising to walk with Axis would be catastrophic.”

  Thank the stars for that, Axis thought. At least he’d be travelling virtually on his own. There would be little opportunity for them to ever speak, let alone look into each other’s eyes.

  “It is dusk,” Georgdi said, glancing at the window. “Time to go, soon.”

  “The Strike Force are ready with a diversion to take the Lealfa
st’s attention from the entrance to Elcho Falling and its causeway,” StarHeaven said.

  “Just remember that it can’t look like a diversion,” Axis said. “Otherwise the Lealfast will be ignoring you and feeling their way along the causeway with their fingertips to discover what is trying to escape from this damned tower.”

  Axis had not felt this edgy for an extremely long time. Trying to escape Elcho Falling under the noses of the Lealfast was a massive risk, and one which could easily see him dead.

  He didn’t care a jot about Inardle. If it came to it, Axis knew he’d have no problem tossing her to the Lealfast and escaping while she was being torn apart.

  That made him remember how his daughter Zenith had died, and he looked at his father, knowing that the connection with StarDrifter was so close that StarDrifter would catch his thoughts.

  StarDrifter gave a small nod, then came over and embraced his son. “Stars shine on you, Axis.”

  “I have talked to Josia,” Axis said, “and he will contact Georgdi or you if there is anything you need to know.”

  StarDrifter nodded. “I have got used to the idea of having two sons, Axis. Make sure you do come back.”

  Axis and Inardle stood just inside the great arched entrance to Elcho Falling. They were very close, and Axis was extremely tense. He hated that all he could think about was Inardle when all he should be thinking about was how to survive the next few minutes and then hours.

  Egalion and Georgdi stood to one side. The Strike Force were due to stage a distraction in the next few minutes — but as none of the Enchanters risked using their mind voices lest the Lealfast pick up their thoughts, Axis needed to depend on others to let him know the best time to leave.

  He looked at Georgdi, who looked toward one of his men positioned on the great staircase.

  “Not yet, StarMan,” Georgdi said, looking back to Axis.

  Axis repressed a sigh, shifting the pack he had on his back. It didn’t contain much — a bit of food, a rough bridle, a bed roll, a few coins, flints to make a fire should he be fortunate enough to find fuel .