The Ravens of Death (Tsun-Tsun TzimTzum Book 4)

by Mike Truk

  I bit back my immediate rejection, mulling over her words. She watched me, half-amused, half-curious.

  “So you say,” I managed at last. “The only other evidence I’ve heard for your theory came from within the Manifold, which means it came from Enigma. So that’s two agents of Lilith telling me their version. You’ll excuse me if I don’t bite.”

  “You don’t need me to excuse you,” said Morgana, sipping from her wine. “All I ask is this: think on my words. Think about how everything contains within its breast the seeds of its own destruction. How all energy is finite, how all worlds tend toward ultimate decay. Everything dies. Cultures, cities, civilizations, suns - all die. They are but shadows of Lilith. Just as it is natural for people to ultimately die in some way or another, so is Lilith natural - a part and parcel of this universe we live in. So yes, resent her. Yes, struggle against her. But don’t write her off as a simple monster. She is so much more.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Say she’s a living embodiment of entropy, or whatever. You still haven’t answered my question. Why serve her? Why hasten the end?”

  “I didn’t really have a choice,” said Morgana simply.

  “How so?”

  “My people - the Morathi - we worship her. It’s our culture. I was taught to pray to her when I was a child. My community was organized around our religion, with her as our focal point. My family, my friends, everyone I knew worshipped her. Isn’t that how most of the people from your world were raised? And didn’t most of them follow the religions of their childhood, their people?”

  “Well, yes,” I said. “But our religions preached love, preached - I don’t know, generosity, good things. Yours preaches death and torment.”

  Morgana shrugged one shoulder. “Not for us. But it would take me hours to explain our most basic catechisms and beliefs.”

  “Even so,” I said, “you’re an adult. You can reflect, you can choose a different path.”

  “So can you,” said Morgana. “Here, try an experiment: stop following the Source and worship Lilith instead.”

  I scowled. “If you won’t take this seriously, I won’t bother -”

  She sat up, veils shifting and sliding to reveal tantalizing glimpses of her flesh. “Oh, I am taking this seriously, Noah. More than you know. But it grows tiresome to have you Saviors snap your fingers in my face and tell me to renounce everything I am, that I have known, simply because you disagree with my faith and morality.”

  She didn’t raise her voice, but so intense were her words that I felt as if she’d slapped me.

  “You worship creation and expansive energy,” she said. “I worship destruction and contraction. Flip sides of the same coin. Neither intrinsically better than the other. You believe me a fool because I am a living being who worships death; I believe you a fool because you’re a living being who would deny it. You don’t think it possible, logical, to worship death, but I tell you this: nobody has as acute an understanding of how precious our time alive is as someone who knows in their bones that they are fated to soon die. Only the ignorant squander their lives, believing themselves immortal. Do you know what Lilith’s sole message is to her faithful?”

  “What?” I croaked.

  Morgana smiled, and in that smile, I saw pain, heartache, and joy. “All her teachings stem from this one phrase, a phrase so powerful that echoes of it are heard on every world, are repeated by spiritual leaders from across the universe: The trouble is, you think you have time.”

  Her smile became beautiful, poignant. “Don’t you see how beautiful that makes life? When you worship death, you cannot help but savor every moment of life. We Morathi are not perfect, but I would argue that throughout our short lives, we savor living far more than anybody else.”

  My mind was spinning. I’d not been ready for a philosophical suplex. I felt like I’d been clotheslined by Plato. I knew I had to mount an objection, but what she was saying rang so true.

  It was too easy for my mind to furnish her statements with supporting examples. People dying of cancer so vividly alive it hurt. The hours I’d spent playing countless computer games I hadn’t even really enjoyed, confident in the knowledge I had the rest of my life to compensate for that lost time -

  “But wait,” I said. “If you’re all so perfectly alive and all that, why did Iphigenia look so bored when I met her?”

  “Ah,” said Morgana, lying back down and taking up her cup of wine. “A good question. Alas, poor Iphigenia. Our religion bids us live to the utmost, but her duty bids her act the figurehead for Lilith, and for her honor endure a stultifying existence.”

  “That doesn’t add up,” I said.

  “No, it doesn’t. We Morathi are human. Our philosophy demands perfection, but the real world acts in all kinds of ways to prevent us from achieving it. Poor Iphigenia is trapped on her throne, and for a girl so young? So inexperienced with life, so yearning for adventure and the sweet temptations of the heart? Alas. Woe is her. Etcetera.”

  She took a deep drink from her cup.

  “So she’s being fucked by Lilith.”

  She scowled at me. “Her time as queen will be rewarded once Bastion falls. And yes, that might not accord with our faith, but I’m doing my best here. Everyone has to make sacrifices; this one is hers and mine.”

  “And the other Morathi? Why do they look so… I don’t know - jaded? Bored? Emelias has only been talking about his boredom since we got here.”

  “Another thing they don’t teach you growing up,” said Morgana. “Indulge in life’s pleasures too hard, too soon, and you lose the ability to savor the commonplace. Our greatest sages and religious teachers preach the value of simplicity, but it’s too easy, especially when young, to over-indulge in hedonism, to drink from every cup, to say yes to every temptation and sin. The consequence? Morathi who lose their path, who grow jaded and bored, when all of creation glitters out there, waiting to be enjoyed.” She paused, raised an eyebrow. “Don’t ask me to believe that all the faithful from your home planet are perfect followers of their religion’s creed?”

  “No,” I said. “I guess not. Most everyone I know says one thing and then does another.”

  I stared at the carpet before me, then caught myself. Was I agreeing with her? I frowned.

  “The mind is willing,” said Morgana moodily, staring into her cup. “But the flesh is weak. Or is it the other way round?”

  Silence followed. I didn’t want to look at her. Instead, I forced myself to think on everything that I’d seen and experienced of Lilith’s evil.

  Neveah on that altar. Sandovar with his bucket of boiling water. Victor torturing those bandits in their own camp. The horrors that had consumed Valeria’s home, the shoxars and Hindering Ones, Taniel with his Hexenmagic, and the Betheliim forcing the enslaved people of Peruthros to destroy the crystal beneath the city.

  “No,” I said. “You preach a convincing version of Lilith as some natural force of entropy, but what I’ve seen - the horror, the perversity, the cruelty - that’s not natural. That was evil.”

  Morgana sighed. “Each Savior has said the same thing. And I’ve always done my best to explain my side, but you know what? I grow tired of these debates. So fine. I wouldn’t let most of Lilith’s followers into my palace out of sheer distaste, but they all exemplify some aspect of her, no matter how small. Destruction comes in many forms. Call me evil, call Lilith evil, simplify the universe to some level of idiocy if it makes you feel better, and we can move on.”

  And damn me, if she didn’t sound disappointed in me. As if I’d almost proven myself different, special in some way – had gotten her hopes up, only to fail her like all the rest.

  I was surprised to realize that rankled me on some level. I felt an urge to prove to her, this decadent, weary, beautiful older woman, that I was special.

  But I constrained that urge, put it away, and sat up straight once more.

  “How do we get to Malkuth?” I asked.

  “Malkuth, yes.” She
swirled her wine about her glass once more, and I realized it had refilled itself. “Simple enough. You need to reach the Fulcrum down below. Placing your hand upon its top. Upon doing so, a portal to Malkuth will appear, and you may all at that point pass through and into Lilith’s own domain.”

  “Fine. Where is this Fulcrum located? How are we to find it?”

  “This is where I decide whether or not I wish to aid you, Noah Kilmartin.” Her smile was tinged with melancholy. “I chose not to help Pelleas, but he found it all the same. Not without great sacrifice, however. I did tell the other two, though ultimately even that knowledge availed them not.”

  “Sounds like I’m better off not knowing.”

  “Are you sure?” She raised an eyebrow. “I can quite easily remain silent and allow you to search the width and breadth of Gharab by yourself.”

  “Would you be willing to tell me even if I asked?”

  “Hmm.” She cocked her head to one side, considering me. “There’s something about you. Something… unique. You lack Pelleas’s rigidity, have managed to avoid the damage that so weakened Jevenna, and have more focus, more force, than Obui for all his wisdom. And you’re young, and handsome, and have the most delightful little bark. Yes, I see what aroused Alusz’s curiosity so. She pretended not to care but urged me to help you. So very well. I’ll help you in more ways than one.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. But first, let me tell you of the Fulcrum. It’s a heavens-defying column. It glows with an ivory hue, inscribed with all the wonders of the Source. No attempt on our part to change its appearance has succeeded.”

  “Sounds frustrating.”

  She gave me a crooked smile. “Very. But I, reigning as I do in Ur-Gharab in Alusz’s stead, can choose where it appears.”

  “What’s to stop you then from moving it when I get close?”

  Her crooked smile grew wider. “Oh, Noah. How little you understand the game that we are to play. Perhaps by your journey’s end, all these questions that bedevil you so will grow clear. I won’t. Move it, that is. Certain courtesies must be observed. I shall, however, place it somewhere that will test you and your companions’ abilities to their utmost. Though, alas. It seems you all aren’t the ablest group to have reached Ur-Gharab.”

  “So we’ve been told,” I said, fighting to not sound irate.

  “Yes. Well. You’ll have to grow quickly if you’re to have any chance below. Regardless. When you are ready to descend to Gharab proper, I shall open a portal for you that shall take you to your starting location, and provide you with a map on which the location of the Fulcrum will be marked. How you reach it will be your own affair. Once you pass through my portal, however, I shall keep the Fulcrum in place for a mere two weeks. At which time I shall move it to the farthest point in Gharab relative to where you then stand and keep moving it forevermore.”

  “Two weeks,” I said. “What is it with your kind and these games?”

  “Is it a game?” Her eyes glimmered. “Or something more serious? I suppose it doesn’t matter. The rules are what they are. Two weeks, and then the odds of your finding the Fulcrum will become infinitely remote.”

  “And if I spurn your portal? Choose to climb down?”

  “Then I wish you good luck. The descent from Ur-Gharab is perilous in the extreme. But that is, of course, your decision to make.”

  I nodded slowly, mulling over her words. “And the other way you’re willing to help me?”

  Her smile this time seemed genuine, lighting up her face with fondness and warmth. “You’re not ready for what lies below. Wouldn’t be if you trained here for a year. So, to prevent you from simply being eradicated the first moment you enter combat, I’ll give you a talisman. A token of my affection. You may activate it by snapping it in half and speaking my name, and it shall conjure a portal to my palace here in Ur-Gharab. Leave one half behind, for that will determine where your returning portal shall take you.”

  “Uh huh,” I said. “And what’s the catch?”

  A dark glimmer entered her eyes. “Try as she might to appear disinterested, I saw how Iphigenia looked at you. I care deeply for her. Feel almost a mother. So, if you use my token, then you must agree to spend a night with the queen.”

  “You’re serious?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or dry swallow. “A night with Alusz? And you think she wants that?”

  “Mmmhmm,” she purred, watching me through half-lidded eyes. “Oh, she would surely protest, but not too strenuously. It would be good for her. Give her a taste of that life she so bitterly feels she is missing out on. And for you? Not the most onerous of obligations. Is she not pleasing to the eye? You must come inside her at least once, and then you and your friends are free to return to your journey when you see fit. Those are the terms, and you using my token indicates your acceptance of them in the name of the Source.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Let’s skip all the protests where you swear you’ll never use it, and so forth. Simply take my token, and if you reach the Fulcrum without ever needing it, feel free to discard it without qualms.”

  “Well, shit.” I sought refuge in being crude. “Never thought the queen of the Morathi needed this much help in getting laid.”

  Morgana rose to her feet, a sensual rising accompanied by the shifting of her veils, her black hair unfurling as it rolled down over her shoulder like a waterfall of black ink. She stalked down from the dais, moving with utter confidence to slowly circle me, reaching out with one fingernail to trace a line of fire across my chest, around my shoulder, then down my back.

  “So confident. So young. So ignorant. So full of fire and passion. Yet you’re not all that you seem. There’s weakness in you, Noah Kilmartin. You’re not as badly broken as Jevenna was, but nor are you as resolute as Pelleas. You’ve been badly hurt. Again and again.”

  She appeared before me again, hand falling softly to her side, eyes heavy-lidded, lips pulled into an amused smile. “Yes. I can see it now. Deep fissures in your foundation. Wounds that you’ve not yet recovered from. How solid are you, Noah? Would just the right blow at just the right angle shatter you? Do you want to know what it was that weakened Jevenna so?”

  My jaw was clenched, my hands curled into tight fists. I inhaled slowly, deeply, and recited to myself: All creation in a drop of water.

  My shoulders relaxed, and the tension flowed from my limbs.

  “No,” I said. “I wouldn’t trust whatever you said, anyway.”

  She shrugged. “Alas. It takes a brave man to turn down information freely given. But no matter. Time is the only way to determine how well you will fare. You must simply tell me when you are ready to begin. I will then open the portal and provide you with your map.”

  “Very well.” The Vam Mantra suffused me, keeping my emotions in check, keeping me cool and collected. “Is there anything else I need to know? Or are we done?”

  Morgana laughed. “Oh, I am looking forward to this. How boorish, how cocky will you be the next time we meet? Given what you’re going up against, and how poorly you faired against my guards, I wager you’ll be a lot more pliable. Willing, even, to do anything to earn my favor and gain information. Information that could make the difference between life and death for your companions.”

  “You keep telling yourself that,” I said. “I’ll be back soon to kick this whole thing off. Until then, Morgana.”

  She returned to her cushions and laid back down. “Until then, Noah. I shall watch your progress with interest.”

  “Great. Knock yourself out.” I turned and walked back to the double doors. Pulling them open, I emerged into the hallway.

  My companions started forward, expressions changing from wary and bellicose to relieved.

  “All is well?” asked Brielle.

  “That remains to be seen,” I said. “But the regent was nice enough. A bit preachy, but you know these Lilith types.” I looked at Emelias. “So prone to going on and on.”

  Eme
lias grimaced. “I suppose it’s too much to expect even basic courtesy from the likes of you.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “You need to earn my respect, Emelias. Thus far you and the regent aren’t doing so hot. Take us back to our suite.”

  More than one of my companions stared at me, taken aback by my tone.

  “Very well,” said Emelias, voice becoming strained. “This way.”

  We returned down the hallway and through the same set of doors to emerge directly back into our suite, stepping out one by one into the pool room.

  “I assume you will be wanting your privacy,” said Emelias.

  “Yes,” I said, hands on my hips. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

  The silence grew strained as Emelias stood there, his smile just a shade below a snarl; then he gave a mocking bow and retreated through the doors, allowing them to close behind him.

  “Damn, Noah,” said Brielle. “Are you looking to start a fight so soon?”

  “Fuck this place,” I said, and needing to move, I began to circle the pool. “Damn their ploys, their lies, the ways they trick us into playing their games. Emelias doesn’t like being spoken to in that way? He can kick us the fuck out.”

  “The meeting with the regent went that well?” asked Imogen.

  “Fucking great. Honestly, I could have predicted most of it.” I reached the pool’s far end, rounded the corner, and began to stride back. “First there’s an attempt at portraying herself as a poor, regular person who’s being forced into this shit. We’re just the same, let’s be friends. Then, when that doesn’t work, she shifts into some philosophical bullshit about how Lilith is actually a force for good in the universe, how she’s only doing what the Source wants her to, and how worshipping her comes with all kinds of amenities and retirement benefits. Then when I laugh that off, she switches into classic intimidation and cruel insinuations.”