The Infinity Gate

  Kezial sat his horse and wondered if he should simply turn around his army and ride away while he still could.

  But ride to where? His homeland was gone, and what else was there of any worth in this godforsaken land save this extraordinary citadel?

  Then Kezial tensed even further.

  There was a Lealfast approaching in the sky, and, much further back, a rider coming forth from Elcho Falling.

  Armat.

  The Lealfast man held back until Armat had come close to Kezial (now on full alert and with armed men twenty thick behind and to each side of him), then landed a few paces out from Kezial.

  He held out his hands to show that he wasn’t armed, which did not relax or impress Kezial greatly. He knew the Lealfast had powers beyond that wielded by any sword or dagger.

  “Who are you?” Kezial said.

  “My name is Eleanon, and I speak for the Lealfast,” the man said. “Perchance you have heard of me?”

  Kezial grunted. Indeed he had heard of Eleanon. “Were you not the one in charge of that rout when Armat — who I see is but a moment’s ride away now — skewered tens of thousands of you out of the sky?”

  The pleasant smile on Eleanon’s face did not slip. “It was but four or five thousand, and it was done to my purpose at the time.”

  “Which was?”

  “To make Axis StarMan think us fools.”

  “And I should somehow believe that you are not?”

  “I hope to convince you of that,” Eleanon said. He looked behind him as the sound of hooves grew loud and stepped very slightly to one side as Armat reined in his horse.

  “Armat,” Kezial said, very carefully. He did not like the look on Armat’s face. He could not put a name to his concern . . . but Armat did not look himself.

  “My friend,” Armat said, and smiled broadly.

  Both words and expression sounded and looked so false that Kezial actually reined back his horse a step or two. He noticed also that Eleanon’s smile had broadened a little at Armat’s words.

  “What is happening here?” said Kezial. “Speak quickly and plainly, one or both of you, for I am feeling too nervous to rest here for hours listening to involved histories of the past weeks.”

  “I have allied with Maximilian,” Armat said, and Kezial gawped at him.

  “ What?” he said.

  “I ride forth to show my goodwill and to ask that you, too, ally with Maximilian within Elcho Falling and —”

  “Neither Maximilian Persimius nor his wife, nor even Axis StarMan, remain in Elcho Falling any longer,” Eleanon said. “Elcho Falling is left under the command of a group of sub-lieutenants. Armat speaks false words.”

  “I speak truth!” Armat said, and for an instant Kezial thought that sounded more like the real Armat.

  “Armat is a puppet,” said Eleanon. “He has been cursed by Ishbel Persimius so that he speaks only the words of his puppet-master, which is why he sounds so false. His puppet-master is, I believe, Insharah. What you hear issuing from Armat’s mouth is not what Armat wants to say to you — undoubtedly those words are seething, trapped beneath the surface of the curse — but what the traitor Insharah wants you to hear.”

  Now Kezial was more confused than ever. “Insharah? I do not understand .”

  “Let me explain,” Eleanon began, and Kezial thought that he was starting to sound the more genuine of the two by far.

  “If you listen to Eleanon then you will die,” Armat said. “He is allied to the very darkness issuing forth from Infinity itself. He —”

  Eleanon roared with laughter. “Oh, come now, Insharah — for I shall not pander any more to the pretence that this is Armat who speaks. That is too implausible to convince even a toddler.”

  He turned to look Kezial fully in the eye. “I and the Lealfast are the only things of truth and good heart left standing in this mess, Kezial. The Outlander general Georgdi has assumed command of Elcho Falling after Maximilian, Ishbel and Axis departed for better climes, or should I say, fled in the face of the Skraeling invasion that approaches and which they fear greatly. Elcho Falling has been abandoned to fools and traitors.”

  “But Armat’s army .” Kezial said, looking between the two of them and not knowing what to think.

  “Mostly dead,” said Eleanon. “Killed by treachery.”

  “False!” Armat said. “Kezial, it is I who speaks to you now, and I say to you that my army is now inside Elcho Falling and mostly intact save for those that this creature —” he flung a hand out at Eleanon “— murdered on their way in. If you see the Lealfast now encamped in what had been myencampment, then know they do so only through the spilling of good Isembaardian blood.”

  Lord gods, Kezial thought, I am sure I can hear truth in those words.

  “I am the way forward,” Armat said. “Ally with me, Kezial, and with Elcho Falling, and you will live.”

  Kezial looked at Elcho Falling, and wondered how, if this was so, Armat expected him to get through the several hundred thousand Lealfast huddled about what appeared to be a single entrance, without a bloody and debilitating battle.

  “Let me show you how false are Armat’s words,” Eleanon said, and he lifted both hands.

  The next moment Kezial gasped. Black bands of dried blood appeared, wrapped about Armat’s body.

  “This is the curse with which Ishbel wrapped Armat,” Eleanon said. “Armat is virtually dead. He commands no power and can offer you no alliance. He speaks only what the traitor Insharah — who you can blame almost completely for the slaughter of Armat’s men and your comrades —”

  Kezial remembered how Armat’s messengers had mentioned that Insharah had abandoned Maximilian for Armat.

  Insharah must have meant to betray Armat and his army all the while.

  Eleanon looked at the expression on Kezial’s face, and knew he had won. He stepped forward, lifted his sword and, as Kezial and his men raised their own swords at this sudden threat, ran Armat through so that he toppled from his horse.

  “If that had been Armat,” Eleanon said as he ran his sword over a tussock of grass to clean it, “then he would have defended himself. As it was, a mere puppet, his master could not get the words to him quickly enough to save his life. Now, Kezial, let me speak plain and true to you. Between us, we can win Elcho Falling. The force that is inside — consisting of a few hundred Icarii, some renegade Outlanders and the pitiful remnants of the Isembaardians now under Insharah’s control — cannot hope to hold it for much longer. Why don’t you join me, Kezial, and partake of the riches of power and glory that Elcho Falling contains?”

  “Why ask me to ally with you?” Kezial said. “Why not take it for yourself?”

  “Because you will be useful,” Eleanon said.

  Kezial looked at Eleanon, and knew he was looking at a murderous and treacherous liar. He did not trust a single word the Lealfast man said.

  Nonetheless . . . Kezial raised his gaze and looked up at Elcho Falling in the distance. The one thing Eleanon did not lie about was the power and glory and potential of Elcho Falling. As Armat had before him, Kezial sat there and lusted.

  He was also not sure he could defeat the Lealfast in any confrontation. Best to ally with them, for the moment, and learn their strengths and weaknesses.

  Then he lowered his eyes to Eleanon. “Shall we discuss terms?” he said.

  Very late that night Eleanon walked out beyond the Lealfast camp.

  In one hand he held a bag.

  He walked for a while, then stopped, his teeth flashing momentarily in the darkness. “Come, come now, Ravenna. Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

  She sighed, barely audible, then walked a little closer to Eleanon. Her steps were hesitant and her face gaunt and lined.

  “You look terrible,” Eleanon said.

  Ravenna didn’t respond.

  Now it was Eleanon who sighed. He tossed the bag toward her, and she flinched as it landed to one side of her feet.

  “Food,” s
aid Eleanon. “I thought you might be grateful.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I have a new ally,” Eleanon said.

  “I saw.”

  “Ah, nothing escapes you, does it? I doubt Kezial will be very useful, but one mustn’t turn away allies when they appear. Did you see what happened to Armat? Your friend?”

  She stared at him, silent.

  “I ran my sword through him. He was but a puppet, anyway. Useless. I am sure that Insharah must be grateful he doesn’t have to feed him any longer. So, out of the three of you that Ishbel cursed, why, there is only little Ravenna left.”

  “I wish I were dead, too.”

  “Doubtless, but wishes are not going to do you any good. Now, we need to discuss something.”

  Ravenna tried to take a step back, but Eleanon closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist, making Ravenna gasp in fear.

  “You will go nowhere,” Eleanon hissed, “until I command it of you! You live and breathe only at my wish, Ravenna.”

  She stared at him, then dropped her eyes, and Eleanon’s grip loosened fractionally.

  “Good girl,” he said. “I have some work to do here, Ravenna, to make you the best servant possible, and it may hurt a little. Do try not to scream. My people sleep close by.”

  Ravenna tried to pull away, but Eleanon was too strong. He dragged her very, very close and grabbed her face with his other hand.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, grinning at the horror in her eyes, “you won’t feel the caress of my loving this time. You might wish you did, though. It might have been preferable to what I am going to do.”

  He altered his grip on her face, digging his fingers deep. “Do you know what I command, Ravenna?” he said softly, so softly Ravenna could almost not hear his words over the sound of her own harsh, terrified breathing. “Do you know what I command? A magic, Ravenna, such as you have never seen, not even in your Land of Nightmares. A magic and an object, and tonight I am going to introduce you to it. The Dark Spire. You are going to get to know it intimately, Ravenna, because you are going to midwive its children. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Ravenna? It will give you fine practice for when you birth your own child . . . should it survive.”

  Eleanon grabbed her consciousness then, as he had grabbed her face, and he wound it with his and with that of the Dark Spire so that the three of them danced together in a nightmarish communion.

  Feel it, Ravenna, touch it, know it, and allow it to touch you, and to know you.

  Ravenna screamed, her body jerking, but she could escape neither Eleanon’s grip nor the embrace of the Dark Spire.

  Do you see it, Ravenna? Do you understand what you must do?

  “Yes! Yes!” she screamed, wanting only to be allowed escape from both Eleanon and the Dark Spire before either harmed her baby.

  Are you sure you understand, Ravenna?

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  There was but one more thing to do. Eleanon used some of his power, melded with that of the Dark Spire, to endow Ravenna with the Lealfast invisibility. He wouldn’t use it now, but when Eleanon sent Ravenna inside Elcho Falling he would enable it so that no one inside would be able to see her.

  At least while she had a task to do. After she’d completed that, Eleanon didn’t care who saw the sad witch.

  Finally, satisfied, Eleanon let Ravenna go, breaking the connection with the Dark Spire as he did so.

  Ravenna fell to the ground, white and shaking and moaning.

  “You will be able to enter Elcho Falling,” Eleanon said. “Not even the citadel will realise your presence. So now, Ravenna, you are perfectly suited to my purpose. To enter Elcho Falling and to midwive the Dark Spire’s babies.”

  Chapter 16

  The River Lhyl, Isembaard

  Maximilian jerked awake. Above his head the stars whirled through the velvet blackness of the sky, beside him Ishbel lay warm and completely relaxed in sleep. Behind him, at the tiller, Maximilian could hear Avaldamon draw in a deep breath, then resettle his weight.

  This would be their last night in the boat. Tomorrow they should reach that part of the Lhyl where they would abandon the water for the long trek eastward toward the coast and, hopefully, a waiting vessel to take them back north to Elcho Falling.

  Maximilian lay, staring at the stars. He’d had the dream again, drawn into the Otherworld by someone’s desperate need to speak to him.

  Yet still he did not know who, or, more worryingly, what was so important that Maximilian was being drawn into the Otherworld to discover it.

  He was wide awake now, with no hope of slipping back into sleep for the remainder of the night. Maximilian drew in a small sigh, letting it out silently, not wanting to alert Avaldamon to his wakefulness, then closed his eyes, and travelled the eighty-six steps to the door of the Twisted Tower.

  Perhaps Josia might have some clue.

  “It has been a long time, Maxel,” Josia said as Maximilian opened the door and entered the tower. “I had thought you to have forgotten me.”

  Maximilian tipped his head in apology. “I am sorry, Josia. To be honest, I have been enjoying the first relaxing period of time since . . . gods alone know when. Just drifting northward in our small riverboat, with nothing to occupy me save drawing Ishbel close at night and watching the countryside drift past during the daylight hours, has been refreshing. What news from Axis and all at Elcho Falling?” “Ah, well, Axis has left Elcho Falling. He —”

  “What?”

  “You should have come sooner, Maxel. Yes, Axis and Inardle have left Elcho Falling on some foolhardy mission to save Isaiah from the Skraeling advance. I do not know the full details.” Josia turned about, fiddling with an item on one of the crowded tables. “Georgdi is left in charge of Elcho Falling. I do not like him as well as Axis.”

  Maximilian chewed his lip, wishing desperately that Axis had not left Elcho Falling. Georgdi was a good man, but . . . “Any other news?”

  Josia turned back to face him. “The Lealfast Nation have arrived at Elcho Falling, and have taken up their residence in Armat’s old camp. Kezial and some sixty thousand men have now allied with Eleanon, who leads the Lealfast. Elcho Falling lies under tight siege.”

  So much for his unworried days, Maximilian thought. He’d spend the rest of the time before he reached Elcho Falling in a state of sick anxiety.

  “Any news of Ravenna?” he asked, and Josia shook his head.

  “I have not noticed her,” he said.

  Maximilian sighed. “Well, that at least is some good news.”

  “What brings you here now, Maxel?”

  Maximilian perched on the end of one of the tables. “I have been having dreams.”

  “Dreams?”

  Maximilian told Josia about his dreams of the Otherworld, of his sense that someone wanted to meet with him quite desperately. “Avaldamon says it must be important, that someone needs to tell me something, warn me of something, very badly.”

  “Ah,” Josia waved a hand dismissively. “It is likely little more than a remnant of the time you spent dead, Maxel. How many hours was that? Two? Three? You hovered at the very border of the Otherworld until Ishbel pulled you back. I think the dreams are little more than that. Just a shadow of the time you began the journey.”

  “You think? If so that would be a relief.”

  “Maxel, I am glad that you found the time to visit with me tonight. I need to see both you and Ishbel urgently.”

  “Why?”

  “You are about to set off on your journey eastward?”

  Maximilian nodded.

  “Then you will come across Hairekeep.”

  “Yes,” Maximilian said. “The fort sits just beneath the southern approaches to the Salamaan Pass. We’ll pass by it on our way to the ports of the eastern coast of Isembaard.”

  “Hairekeep is stuffed full of Isembaardians, Maxel. You and Ishbel can rescue them. It will be something you can do for this land. I have been watching
the fort from the window atop this tower. I can see it, and I think I know how you can free those trapped inside.”

  Maximilian nodded. “Does Ishbel need to be involved? I feared for her so much in DarkGlass Mountain.”

  “This task will need both you and Ishbel. Both of you to unwind the One’s power and release the tortured souls from their imprisonment. Bring Ishbel back with you the next time you visit and make it soon. I will explain more then.”

  “And the One? Avaldamon postulates, and Ishbel and I are inclined to believe him, that the One was not destroyed during the obliteration of DarkGlass Mountain, but escaped elsewhere. Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”

  “I agree, Maxel. The One is too powerful to have been killed by Ishbel. But as to the where . . . I have no idea. I am sorry.”

  Chapter 17

  The Outlands

  Axis had been riding for six days and thought he must be close to Isaiah. He’d angled inland as Inardle had told him, riding as hard as he could, using every minute of light available in the lengthening days to push forward.

  He had not seen Inardle since that night she’d told him of Bingaleal’s death. He did not care. Axis was utterly done with her. He hoped she drifted off somewhere and he would not have to think about her again.

  He had not seen Inardle and was happy for that, but Axis was growing weary of the lonely ride. He’d always had a companion — someone . . . Belial, Azhure, any number of Axe Wielders, other companions, Star Gods, more recently Insharah or Georgdi.

  Now there was no one save himself, and Axis did not always find too much of his own company a good thing.

  He was truly looking forward to meeting with Isaiah again.

  It was well after noon and Axis was hoping that soon he’d see a smudge on the horizon that would tell him a large army was moving ahead. If luck was with him, if he saw that smudge, then maybe he’d be sitting with Isaiah about a campfire tonight.