by Martin Ash
‘That is my understanding.’
‘He is not coming without having taken precautionary measures. Possibly he intends a trap.’
‘I am not party to his plans, but he was suspicious, I can say that.’
‘My two men, Jaktem and Ilian, are they with him and in good health?’
I answered in the affirmative on both counts. ‘Sir, if you do meet with Feikermun I would implore you, do not kill him. Not yet. Take him prisoner if you can, but hold him safe. He may be your enemy, but he holds the only key to withstanding the Citadel’s assault.’
‘I will take due note of your words. Now, tell me, what is this thing that you clutch so carefully to your belly?’
I cursed myself. In my distraction I had forgotten the amber. The Golden Lamb extended and arm. ‘Bring it to me.’
One of his soldiers marched up to me, and I had no choice but to relinquish the amber. He took it to the dais and the Golden Lamb held it up, regarding it for some time from behind his mask. ‘It is intriguing, and strangely beautiful. What is it? A magical artefact of some kind?’
‘Sir,’ I said, feeling that all was about to collapse about me, that everything had been in vain. ‘Sir, trust me when I say that this piece of amber is of vital importance in this matter. It is of the Citadel, was somehow cast into the world, and must be returned. That is the business I was engaged upon when your men intercepted me.’
And I thought: Why do I still have it? I took it to the well - now I am here. Why?
‘You brought this with you from Khimmur, did you not? Why?’
How could he have known that? I stammered, ‘It - it has been in my possession for some time. I had no idea of what it was. I brought it in the hope of learning more about it and perhaps acquiring others like it.’
My words sounded feeble and inadequate. I was confused I could hardly even recall how I had come by the amber, or what I had planned to do with it. And now, after everything, it was lost. Given into the hands of one who might well know its secret or, if not, might, like Feikermun, choose to take it into his own possession.
To my surprise the Golden Lamb passed the amber back to his guard, indicating that he should return it to me. ‘Take it, and go.’
‘Go?’
‘You are free, at least for the present. My men will escort you back to the streets. We will meet again, Cormer of Chol, or Dinbig of Khimmur, or whoever you are, and it will be very soon. And when we do, be sure I shall test you and I shall know you. And if you fail the test I will kill you. Now go, and do what you are assigned to do. And be very certain of your motives. Be clear of who you are behind your mask, and be wary of who you pretend to be.’
Again it was as though he uttered words that meant more than I could presently comprehend. He rose as his soldiers moved to escort me, and stared down from the dais, an imposing figure. Perhaps I imagined it, but I had the distinct impression he was weighing something in his mind, as though wondering whether to say more.
But all he said was, ‘Go.’
Nineteen
Shaken by that meeting and by what the Golden Lamb appeared to know about me, I found myself abandoned in the deserted backstreets of Dhaout. The rain still fell. The glows of burning buildings in the southeast pulsed low in the night sky, silhouetting high towers and the peaks and angles of rooftops, and faintly the shouts of battle reached my ears. I was lost again, clutching the amber. I had done all I had been told to do, but nothing had been achieved.
Or had I? This was the gidsha dream, I remembered. I could not be sure of anything.
With startling abruptness I was cast back to a dream I had had in Khimmur - it seemed long ago, but its details were as vivid as if I had lived it yesterday. My first glimpse of the androgynous winged youth, Sermilio, who at that time I did not know, standing gazing into the sunset, then pointing me to the cluster of buildings, saying: ‘Go to the well. From the well all things come. Out of the well comes the truth.’
And I remembered my feelings then, of not understanding what it all meant, of being so close, as if... if only... if I could somehow grasp it, find my way through, I would understand. That feeling came upon me now, an intensity of emotion so powerful I felt it would burst from me, for I was almost there, almost seeing, almost knowing ...
Don’t let it end!
I DON’T KNOW HOW TO PREVENT IT!
I saw the water running in tiny coloured rivulets about my feet. I stared, enraptured and at the same time struck with horror. Reflected in the water were the images of the Avari suspended in the air, motionless, their stillness more terrible than ever before. The emptiness and silence - I no longer sensed even the remotest beating of wings.
I looked up: they were not above me. They were solely within the dark pools and rivulets of rain at my feet. I dropped to my knees, impelled by that image, the reflection that did not reflect. I sank into it, into the strange light, pulled or falling and now I was among them - they were all around, in the air, above, about, in their hundreds, as far as I could see. And I gazed at the amber light and the amber in my hands, which somehow contained the winged host. Nothing had changed. The swarm of tiny bodies within, which once I had thought to be minute insect forms, were as they had always been. Though I had entered the well carrying the amber, nothing had changed.
There was a shift of place. I sped above the road, between the buildings, to arrive at that small glade where the well stood. I saw Sermilio sprawled upon the ground before me. His head was propped against the well’s low wall and his fabulous wings spread lifelessly upon the earth. I knelt at his side, fearful. His eyes were closed but I saw that his chest rose and fell faintly. ‘What has happened? Are you dying?’
The eyes opened, lids fluttering, his look glassy. ‘Where... have you been?’
‘I came,’ I said. ‘I brought the amber. I entered the well. And now...?’
His eyes rested upon the green amber in my hands and his expression changed, became intense, filled with urgency and enquiry, seeing it for the first time. ‘You... must... go again.’
‘Again? But why? Why has nothing happened?’
‘It has.’ He gripped my arm. ‘You don’t see it, but it has. Now there is one thing left to do. Go once more, I implore you. Quickly, before it’s too late.’
‘It’s already too late!’
I spun around, rising. Behind me were Feikermun, the ape at his side, and my double, the impostor, Dinbig of Khimmur. At their backs towered a colossal creature, its shape indefinable - for it appeared to be many shapes at once, altering as I stared, never staying still, never quite solid, yet present, fearsome, real. It held aspects of everything I could conceive, and more that I never could. I knew it to be Scrin.
‘It‘s already too late,’ repeated Feikermun, a grin of savage gloating on his lips, his eyes aflame with mad challenge. His face was a mess of colours, water glinted on his red armour. ‘Look.’ He spread a muscle-swollen arm to indicate the Avari. ‘They are dead. It is over. Give Feikermun the amber.’
I looked uncertainly from one to the other, then down at Sermilio. His pale eyes were open, fixed upon Feikermun. A trickle of blood ran from between his lips. ‘It... is not over ...’ he rasped, struggling to rise. ‘Not... yet.’
‘Oh, but it is,’ Feikermun taunted. ‘It is. All that remains is for Cormer to give up the amber.’
He knows what it is! I thought. Feikermun was holding out one hand. At the same time my double stepped forward, his own hands extended. Sermilio was almost on his feet. I glanced aside at him; he seemed barely able to hold himself up. I wondered, If it is truly over as Feikermun says, why does he want the amber?
‘Go, Dinbig!’ commanded Sermilio.
‘Dinbig?’ A flicker of uncertainty on Feikermun’s face. He glanced uneasily from me to my double, then back. At the same moment Sermilio threw himself past me with a sudden yell. He had drawn his stiletto-like blade, was lifting it high, and plunged it into the breast of Feikermun’s ape.
The
ape vented an agonized bellow as a fountain of blood gushed from the wound. It staggered back, clubbing at its assailant. Sermilio had fallen face-down on the earth. The ape roared dismally and wilted on to one massive knee, its head tilting, teeth bared, eyes filled with sudden mournful reproach. Feikermun gave forth a stricken cry, ‘Nnnooooooooooooooooo!’
My double stepped towards me, reaching for the amber. I jerked back. He came at me again, his hands upon the amber. I pulled away and without thinking threw myself over the low wall.
Once more I was falling, down into the Well of Selph. This time there was no reflection of myself looking up at me. This time my double came after me, almost with me, hands outstretched for the precious yellow-green gem.
We fell together. Perhaps we were one, yet we fought, fought for that glassy stone in which the fate of the cosmos was sealed. Why did he want it? What was his aim? Did he work for Feikermun? Yet Feikermun had tortured and executed him.
Then why? Perhaps I would never know; I knew only that he fought me and that he hungered for the amber. His was a path I might have chosen, and if I did not subdue him now I might still find myself thrown upon it. Fail to defeat him and it would be my end. I would be gone; he would remain, would be me to pursue his own ends, choose his own path, whatever it might be.
We fell - we fought - but I held fast to the amber and he could not wrest it from me... and when we ceased falling he was no longer there.
Nothing was there. I had entered emptiness. The end of the world.
Or the beginning.
Don’t let it end.
Infinite paths stretched before me, leading away into nowhere. All possibilities. Any one of them mine.
I could not choose.
‘You must not stand still.’
‘But if I take the wrong one?’
‘There is no “wrong” one, there’s only what you choose. That is the way you should go.’
‘But I do not know where.’
‘Then decide now.’
‘I’m afraid.’
‘Use your fear. It is yours. Make it work.’
‘It paralyzes me.’
‘Then rise. You must not let it end.’
‘Why me?’
‘That is not the question. Why anything? It is so, that’s all.
It is the way of it.’
‘Yet I cannot choose.’
‘Wrong. You have already chosen. You acted after thought, whether you knew it or not. Now you are here. Think only what you have come here to do.’
I looked at Aniba. She lay upon a bed, hardly recognizable, her frail body beneath a white sheet, her hands on the surface by her sides, her head resting on a pillow. She was ancient; she was my mother; her eyes were closed; she barely breathed. She was dying. It was her time. She had done all she had come to do.
I sat by her bedside and took one of her hands in mine. Her fingers gave the tiniest pressure; she knew my presence.
'Am I dying?'
I said. ‘You are moving on. You will soon be born. Let go now, in your time, when you choose. It is all right.’
The feeblest smile flickered at the corners of her pale lips. ‘Do you understand now? Do you know me?'
‘I love you,’ I replied. ‘I always have.’
‘But do you understand?'
‘Yes,’ I said. My eyes stung with tears. I lifted her hand to my lips. Sweet, unfathomable mystery. ‘Will we ever meet again?’
‘We may, I cannot say'
‘You will live again. Will you know me?’
‘I will.'
‘But how will I know you?’
'One day, perhaps, you will look into the eyes of a stranger and you may not understand. But you will feel such love. You will know. Yes, you will know. Perhaps.'
‘It will be you?’
'It has always been.’
I opened my eyes - just once, for a moment, for the first time ever - and I saw her face above me, smiling, and the love in her eyes, and I heard her sweet song, filling the sky, succouring my soul. Safe. Forever, as the bells began to ring.
And I heard my cry. Then a single bell.
‘There is one thing more'
I nodded. I did understand now, though I did not know how. I took the amber and placed her feeble hands around it, laid it upon her breast.
She smiled. 'I take his thought. He did not even know he had cast it, nor the damage a single thought could cause. Learn from that, Dinbig - the incalculable power that precedes any action.’
I nodded, blinking back the wetness in my eyes. ‘Go now. It’s done.’
She looked so peaceful lying there. There was silence. And then the bell. I knew she had departed. Moving out into darkness. There came a sound of wings, from a distance, then closer, a rushing air, beating coolly past my face, breathing upon me. Gone.
I sat for a long time. Far away a bright, flat ocean, stained with the colours of the sunset beneath which it lay, revealed a tiny boat with two figures seated within. The boat’s drift took it further and further, until it was a dot, and at last no longer visible.
Then I saw something that made my heart kick: a dark cloud - I thought it was a cloud - beginning to form above the red horizon. It was growing, quickly, reaching into the sky and coming closer, almost blotting out the glory of the setting sun. As it drew nearer, I began to make out what seemed to be particles within it. A multitude of individual tiny particles making up the mass of the cloud, all moving together yet freely and independently, as if imbued with life of their own.
The cloud came closer, closer, and higher, shadowing the earth on which I stood, and now I saw the forms, so many of them. The air was loud with their coming. And I gasped at the sight, for they were clear now and properly defined. They were not particles, nor dust nor anything like it. They were people, or spirits, in their thousands and thousands. Each of them was winged. They were the Avari, more than I could have imagined, soaring upwards to fill the sky, pouring out of the sea beneath the fabulous sunset, a great wind rushing before them roused by the beating of their many wings. They flew free at last, as I wept.
They were all around me now, passing in endless random procession. I gazed in wonder until I found myself looking down at the frail body that lay before me, at the thin veined hands clasped around the green amber. Gently I unclasped them. I held up the amber and gazed within.
It was empty.
And, as I held it there, a lick of wind from the passing Avari host lifted it and broke it apart. It crumbled into powder, which was whisked away and dispersed in the stirred air.
A solitary figure detached itself from the passing mass of the Avari and began to descend towards me, wings outstretched. Against the red sky it made a familiar shape. Sermilio alighted beside me.
‘You are not harmed?’
He shook his head, smiling calmly. ‘It is different now. We are free again.’
‘Is it over?’
‘Far from it. We go to do battle with the Scrin, to drive them back, close the gates of Selph and seal the Citadel again from the world of men.’
‘Can you succeed now?’
‘If we can close the gates - and I believe we can - your domain will be safe at least until another human finds access to the Citadel. The war with the Scrin will rage on, as it always has done, but the Avari will be here to watch over the souls of humankind.’ He looked upward at the departing host. ‘I cannot rest here. There is too much to do.’
He took my shoulders, smiling, and squeezed them. ‘Farewell. You have done well.’
Sermilio rose from the ground, his wings outspread, then sped swiftly in the wake of the free Avari.
‘What of Feikermun?’ I called after him, but there was no reply.
I grew conscious again of the tears streaming down my cheeks. I felt overwhelmed, both with the joy of accomplishment and the grief of loss and incomprehension; delight and sorrow a deepening sense of unfathomable mystery. I turned, beginning to retrace my steps, not knowing where I was going
or from where I came, yet somehow certain that beyond what I knew to be myself was something other, something eternal which was part of all that existed, had ever existed and was still to be, and which understood.
The amber light had faded, the sunset had passed. I looked up into blackness and cool rain spattered my cheeks.
‘Where is she, Cormer?’
‘She has gone, my lord.’
‘No! Bring her now! Make her come! Aaannnniiiiibbbbaaaaaaaa!’