The Infinity Gate

  “It will not harm us?” Ozll said, and Isaiah shook his head, making his braids ripple in light and sound.

  Axis thought the Skraeling would ask for more reassurance, but Ozll merely nodded.

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  “Imagine,” Isaiah said, “a time before there were any men or any Icarii or any Skraelings.”

  His voice was soft, reassuring, though commanding, and Axis found himself looking into a landscape so foreign it appeared to be of a different world. Every Skraeling had vanished, and instead he saw a land of gently rolling low hills stretching into the horizon. The hills were carpeted in deep green moss, broken here and there with huddles of tiny cream and pink flowers. Breaking up this verdant landscape were myriad streams and rivers, glinting silver in the soft light.

  “There were no trees in this early world,” Isaiah continued, his voice flowing softly, hypnotically, through everyone’s mind. “No great herds of beasts as we know them now. No cities, no towns, no quests, no wars. Just peace. You see that there were many creatures —”

  And Axis did see that this land of emerald-carpeted hills was dotted here and there with small animals, not one of them much larger than a hare, and all grazing the moss and occasional stand of low plants. They were many and varied in shape and hue, but they all moved peaceably with each other and about the landscape.

  “— but they lived in harmony and contentment. Such is the way, always, in the beginning of new worlds. Now, let us look in the streams and rivers. No, do not fret, I shall not drop you in. Be still my friends, we shall just peer, briefly.”

  Axis found his vision being drawn down to a small river, tumbling its way along a rocky bed. For a moment he saw nothing in the water, then he gasped, and heard everyone about him gasp, as a face floated up from the river bottom and stared at them.

  The face almost had no features at all — just eyes, the hint of a nose and mouth, and the ethereal shape of cheek and forehead — for all was distorted by the water. There was a body there, too, but Axis could barely make it out.

  All he knew was that, firstly, this was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life, and, secondly, it was among the most magical.

  The creature spoke, its words lifting from the water, and it spoke in the language Isaiah had used earlier.

  Water.

  “She is a River Angel,” Isaiah said. “See how glorious she is?”

  He paused, allowing everyone to drink their fill of the beautiful creature, then he drew their vision back once more until they overlooked the wider landscape.

  “For many thousands of years,” Isaiah continued, “the River Angels existed in harmony with their fellow creatures. Then, over the space of a few years, they developed a creed which supposed that no other creature dared to exist, given the overwhelming superiority of the River Angels. So they began to destroy them.”

  Now the vision showed watery hands emerging from the streams and rivers to seize the necks of all the creatures lowering their heads to drink and twisting, ripping off those heads.

  “It was appalling,” Isaiah said, his voice soft. “And so, if I may cut this story short to save the pain, I destroyed the River Angels before they could destroy the rest of the world’s living creatures.”

  The vision ended abruptly, and Axis found himself blinking as he looked once more at the encircling Skraelings. They also were blinking, their faces a mix of emotions and confusions. He looked at Inardle.

  She felt his gaze and returned his gaze, and Axis saw that she was weeping. She looked devastated and Axis wondered what she had realised that had as yet escaped him.

  Axis returned his attention to Isaiah. “You ’destroyed’ them?”

  “I took them from the water,” said Isaiah, his quiet voice carrying over the entire horde, “and I made them to hate and fear it. I took from them the one thing they adored above all else. Water. Then I set them to wandering and I cursed them that they would become the most hated and reviled creatures that existed. I was so angry. I needed to punish their arrogance and cruelty.

  “Then, to my eternal shame, I forgot them. Light and I became embroiled in our battles with Kanubai, with chaos, and then other matters came up, and aeons passed . . . and, my friends, I am afraid I forgot you. If I had thought of you then I supposed that you had all perished. I had not thought .”

  Axis’ mouth was actually gaping open. He stared at Isaiah, then at Inardle who looked utterly shocked — then about at Ozll and the other Skraelings.

  He could see that they did not yet fully comprehend. They were struggling, trying to make the connection, but so many, so many countless generations had passed that the Skraelings had lost most of their intuitive and intellectual powers.

  They had descended into the abyss of brutality and ignorance and stupidity, and there they had stayed, in terror of the element which had once nurtured them.

  Hating that which they had lost.

  Constantly looking for a leader. Perhaps, unknowingly, wanting someone who could lead them back to the world they had lost.

  “My friends,” Isaiah said, his voice full of pity, “you are the lost River Angels.”

  Chapter 23

  The Outlands

  The Skraelings still could not grasp the enormity of what Isaiah was telling them, and Axis thought that he, too, might have trouble were he in their position.

  But then, he had been through similar, hadn’t he? But never had he descended to the level of the Skraelings, creatures universally reviled and hated for their stupidity and the brutality of their existence.

  Now, Isaiah was telling them that, in truth, they were probably the most wondrous and enchanted creatures this world had ever produced: more mysterious than the Icarii; more magical than the Lealfast; stunning creatures who had emerged from the mystical birth pangs of the world itself. Glorious.

  Axis wondered, cruelly, if they still had the intellect to grasp it.

  He looked again at Inardle. She had her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide, and was rocking backward and forward very slightly.

  It is why you frost, he said to her. That is your River Angel magic.

  She stared at him with those wide eyes, but Axis was not even sure if she had actually heard him.

  “I have left you alone for far too long,” Isaiah said to the Skraelings. “I had forgot you and, lo, look to what mischief you descended. Even cursed you tried to ruin the world.”

  Isaiah sighed. “I have many choices before me. I could destroy you utterly and, yes, I have the power, for I am Water and you are descended of water.” His voice turned bitter. “If only I had realised all this earlier. I could have saved this land, and saved Isembaard, so much trouble. So much slaughter. Right now, my friends, I loathe myself quite terribly. But I have a decision to make, and so also do you. Here is what I propose. I have the means to destroy you completely. I have, likewise, the means to restore you to your full heritage. I can turn you from the ugly vile creatures you are now, back to the magical, beautiful creatures you once were. Or, I can give to you that responsibility — the decision as to whether to go back or not — in your hands. I can give you the power to restore yourselves if you want.

  “But . . . which choice of those three should I make? Both River Angels and Skraelings have created havoc. They have murdered and slaughtered. Perhaps destroying you completely and putting a final end to the nightmare that you are and that you have caused this world would be the best thing.”

  “No,” said Ozll.

  Isaiah ignored him. “I don’t know what to do and I don’t know if I have the right to make that choice, given that I am almost as culpable as you. So . . . I am going to leave the decision to you. I, and Axis and Inardle, are going to return to our camp, and there we will rest. Tomorrow we shall meet with you and you shall tell me what you think best for yourselves. There are no conditions attached to this. And if you choose either the second or third options — that I, or you yourselves, restore you to full River
Angel status — I will not demand that you ally with either myself or my friends against the One.”

  Axis hissed, trying to grab Isaiah’s attention, unable to believe he was giving the Skraelings this much power and freedom. Stars, they would destroy the world in a minute if they took back the power of the River Angels!

  The Skraelings were, to a single one of them, staring at Isaiah in total disbelief.

  “I am going to put my trust in you,” Isaiah said softly. “Consider well overnight. We will meet again tomorrow, at noon.”

  Then he rose, indicating to Axis and Inardle they should do likewise, and he walked back to the Isembaardian camp, head high, braids jingling, jewels gleaming in the faint light of a multitude of campfires.

  “Are you mad?” Axis hissed as they neared the edges of the Isembaardian camp. “What have you done? Stars, Isaiah, if you have the means to destroy them then just —”

  Isaiah turned on him. “I have as much blame to bear for the actions of the Skraelings as they themselves. I forgot about them, assumed they had all died, and how many millions have suffered because of it? This is my recompense to the Skraelings for —”

  “What about recompense to all the people who have been slaughtered by the Skraelings?” Axis shouted, not caring if his voice carried back to the Skraeling camp. “What about recompense to this land, this one here and now that we stand on, for the misery inflicted on it? What about recompense for —”

  “Axis —”

  “— all the Isembaardians who died. Godsdamn it, Isaiah! You abandoned Isembaard to its fate, too! This is a most unbecoming character trait of yours.”

  Isaiah had paled, and now took a step back. “I don’t expect you to understand, but —”

  “You are right. I don’t understand.”

  With that, Axis turned on his heel and stalked away into the night.

  After a moment, Isaiah walked on into his camp.

  Inardle stood a long time in the darkness between the two camps, feeling keenly her isolation.

  Stuck between two camps, as her entire life had been.

  What Isaiah had revealed to her had shocked her to her very (River Angel) core. She had spent her entire life reviling her Skraeling heritage.

  Now . . . did she have to admire it? Yearn for it? Or should she loathe it all the more for the foulness it had come from?

  And were the Skraelings to decide her fate as well?

  She did not know how to react, or what thoughts to muster. So she did the only thing she could actually think of doing.

  She walked after Axis.

  Inardle thought Axis might lash out at her in his anger, but he didn’t. He was sitting in the dark some twenty paces out from the border of Isaiah’s camp, and said nothing as Inardle came up and sat down beside him.

  “I don’t know what to do, Axis,” she said.

  He didn’t respond, and Inardle hadn’t really expected him to. She just needed to talk and it kept her that one step further from madness if she talked to an actual person rather than muttered away to herself.

  “I cannot believe Isaiah acted as he did,” Axis said, and Inardle blinked in a little surprise.

  “He bears a heavy burden of guilt, I think,” she said. “Not so much for the Skraelings, but for what they have done. If he had realised sooner . . . or thought to discover what had become of the River Angels once he had cursed them .”

  “Is it going to ease his guilt by handing them the power to destroy even more? I can see no sense in the man!”

  Inardle thought somewhat wryly that the only reason Axis talked to her so freely now was because he had (if perhaps only momentarily) found someone else to hate more than her.

  “I don’t really hate you so much,” he said, and Inardle jumped, making Axis grin slightly.

  “That thought was written all over your face,” he said. “I didn’t need to shuffle through your mind to realise it. I wouldn’t have tried to save you from the Lealfast if I had really hated you.”

  “And I thank you for that,” she said. “If you hadn’t warned me, they would have killed me with their first volley of arrows. I was unaware and they had a clear shot. But . . . how did you know?”

  Axis explained to her how he had used the vision of the eagle. “It was a trick from long ago in my past, using a friend from my past.”

  He paused, listening. The Skraeling horde was close enough that they could hear the whisperings and mutterings coming from within their mass. It sounded like a hissing sea, undulating this way and that.

  “They are surely having a fine time considering what Isaiah has shown and offered them,” Axis said.

  “It would have come as a huge shock to them,” Inardle said. “What Isaiah showed them of their past, certainly, but also his unexpected offer, no conditions attached, to do whatever they choose. I don’t think anyone has offered the Skraelings that kind of option before. Everyone has used hate or fear or force to control them. Now a god has walked up to them and said, ‘Here is unlimited beauty and power and it is yours if you want it. No strings.” She gave a chuckle. “They’ll be sitting there trying to find the trap.”

  “Is there one, do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Inardle said. “I think Isaiah’s offer is genuine . . . but maybe there is a twist in its tail.”

  “Which way will the Skraelings choose? Not the first option, surely. Not death.”

  “Actually, they will yearn for that,” Inardle said. “Instant destruction, yes, but it also means instant peace. I think the Skraelings yearn for that.”

  Axis wondered if Inardle also yearned for the blessed peace of death. “Is there a chance they will choose it?”

  “No. They might yearn for it, but they will also be dazzled by the idea of beauty, of which they have never had any, and of power, which they have always craved. Axis, they are hateful creatures, given to treachery and slaughter, but they also know that. They hate themselves as much as does everyone else. Now they are being offered a way out.”

  “So which of the other two options?”

  “I think they will take the third. To restore themselves if they want. It is the most dangerous one for us, for you, for the Isembaardians, for Isaiah, for everyone save themselves. They will see power in that choice, and so they will take it.” She gave a small shrug. “Of course, then they will fight incessantly about whether or not they should take that step. Maybe Isaiah has outwitted them, after all.”

  “Not the second option?” Axis said. “Isaiah immediately restoring them to River Angels?”

  “No. I think they might see a trap there, or suspect a trap.”

  “They are suspicious creatures.”

  “As are you.” Inardle wished immediately she hadn’t said that, but Axis gave a small smile and a tilt of his head, merely acknowledging the remark.

  “How do you feel, Inardle? About your River Angel heritage?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “How do I feel? More confused than ever. I have always hated my Skraeling blood . . . but now I discover they were once magical, beautiful creatures. But . . . oh, what despicable creatures. Should I loathe my River Angel heritage even more than my Skraeling heritage?”

  “It explains your mystery,” said Axis. “Your abilities. How you . . . frost.”

  That was leading the conversation onto metaphorical ice and Inardle shifted nervously. “I hadn’t expected flattery from you back there,” she said, referring to Axis’ comments on the Lealfast’s beauties.

  “I surprised myself.” Now he turned his head and smiled at her. “Perhaps, sitting there in front of that horde of hideous creatures, you didn’t seem so vile after all.”

  Inardle felt even more uncomfortable. “More flattery.”

  “Perhaps,” Axis said. He stretched away some of the stiffness and tiredness in his back. “Tomorrow will be interesting.”

  “So it shall,” Inardle said.

  They sat for a while in silence, then Inardle rose, said goodnight, and walk
ed back to her assigned tent.

  Chapter 24

  The Outlands

  Inardle walked into the tent, stopping in surprise when she saw the woman sitting on one of the two camp beds.

  She hadn’t realised she would be sharing.

  The woman was looking at her with some discomfort, which Inardle realised was probably because the woman was unfamiliar with winged creatures and didn’t quite know how to converse with one.

  Or perhaps that she, too, was surprised at suddenly finding herself sharing.

  “I am Inardle,” Inardle said.

  “Hereward,” the woman said. “I am sorry . . . you are here because .?”

  “Isaiah told me I could use this tent.”

  “Oh.”

  “He didn’t say anything?”

  Hereward’s face twisted with bitterness. “He loathes me and suspects me of foulness.”

  Inardle, who was still standing just inside the tent, not sure if she should progress further, just raised her eyebrows.

  “He suspects I harbour the One,” Hereward said. “He cannot make up his mind whether to kill me or not.”

  “Oh,” said Inardle, not knowing what to say. Why had Isaiah put her in here? Stars, she’d rather sleep outside in the cold.

  “I suppose you want to go, now,” Hereward said.

  “I think perhaps —”

  “I don’t harbour the One!” Hereward said. “Why does he believe it?”

  “Why does he believe it?”

  “Because the Skraelings insinuated it.”

  Inardle risked a small smile. “Then perhaps he is a fool for believing the Skraelings before you. Look, Hereward, I am tired and I need to sleep. Do you mind if I rest on the spare bed?”

  Hereward shook her head. “The guards let you in?”

  Guards? Then Inardle remembered there had been a group of soldiers around a campfire close to the tent. Maybe they were, indeed, guarding it.

  That thought made Inardle wonder anew at why Isaiah had put her in here.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Have you been sent to interrogate me?”