He stumbled to where the glass pike lay and picked it up with his remaining hand. Tucking the thick shaft under his other armpit, he swung it up and around before Quetzalcoatl could break free.
“Let him go,” he ordered. The weapon was surprisingly light. Its point looked sharp enough to spear molecules. He edged two steps closer so a lunge would take Quetzalcoatl in the belly.
“No, Seth,” said Xol's brother. “You do not understand.”
“I understand well enough. Do as I say, Quetzalcoatl, or I'll pin you like a butterfly.”
“Your threats are empty. I do not fear death—at your hands or any other's.”
“No one wants to kill you. There doesn't have to be any fighting at all. Let Xol go and we'll get on with things.”
“There is nothing to get on with,” said Xol. “You're here now. I'm no longer needed. I can finish this, forever.”
Xol twisted in his brother's embrace, flexing his powerful shoulder muscles to bring Quetzalcoatl's throat within range of his dagger-sharp teeth. With a snarl he bit down. Seth reacted instinctively, swinging the pike from Quetzalcoatl to Xol and stabbing forwards. The point dragged along Xol's scalp, tearing it open. Bright electric blood poured down Xol's face.
The dimane roared like a wounded elephant and loosened his deadly grip on Quetzalcoatl's throat.
“Hey!” Seth stabbed again, forcing the brothers apart. Xol groaned, full of anger and despair. “What's going on? You've killed him once already! Isn't that enough?”
“It will never be enough,” said a woman's voice. “Not while his brother remains a ghost.”
Seth looked over his shoulder, expecting to see one of the Sisters standing behind him. Instead there was a brown-skinned woman with spiky white hair. He had never seen her before in any life.
“You are the ghost, I presume,” she said to Quetzalcoatl. “Right? It's best to be sure. I've made that mistake once already this week.”
Quetzalcoatl ignored the new arrival. The ghost moved to his brother's side, as though to offer him aid, but Xol shoved him away.
“Who are you?” Seth asked the woman.
“A friend of life,” she said. Her eyes were as grey as her jumper and as hard as granite. “I've been following you.”
He understood immediately where she fitted into recent events: the dark figure crawling across the crystal face, destroyer of the kaia, and briefly glimpsed passenger of the Wake: vanguard of a vast number of people trying to reach Sheol.
He swung the pike around so its point was between her and him. “Following me—why?”
“I want the same thing you do: a better solution.” She indicated Xol and Quetzalcoatl. “Look at these two. They're useless, trapped in their pointless feud—and so they will remain unless one of them takes drastic action. It can't be Quetzalcoatl; he's confined by the Sisters to Sheol. It can't be Xol, either; he's unable to kill himself without causing another Cataclysm, one between the Second and Third Realms. His punishment, therefore, is that he cannot die. Not unless they both die and move on to the Third Realm together. Otherwise, Xol and Quetzalcoatl are as trapped as each other.
“So it is with the First and Second Realms. We're going to need some serious lateral thinking before we get out of this mess.”
The Sisters appeared soundlessly between them.
“You are not welcome here,” said Ana to the woman.
She sighed. “Seems I'm not welcome anywhere at the moment.”
“For good reason.”
“Give me a break, will you? I didn't jump Bardo, crawl through the underworld, and bravado my way up here to hurt anyone. I just want to talk.”
“What did she do?” asked Seth. “Who is she? Why is she unwelcome?”
“My name is Kybele,” said the woman. She indicated the two guardians of the Flame. “Count them. There are usually three hags up here, glowering down from their perch.”
“Kybele murdered our sister,” Meg explained, without looking at her.
“Your sister got in the way,” Kybele retorted. “I didn't strike the killing blow.”
“You ordered it,” said Meg.
“And we are not required to hear you,” said Ana. “Your place is in the First Realm.”
“Not now the realms are merging. Can't you feel it? They're close enough now that even a full genomoi like me can make the leap. Yod is doing the same as we speak. What'll become of your perch when the two become one? Where will you crows sit then? Times are changing—and this is our best chance to choose what they're going to change into. You know I'm right about that.”
Surprisingly, it was Quetzalcoatl who spoke up in support of her argument. “She speaks the truth,” the ghost said. “Your rules hold only as long as the realm supports them.”
“This is the case. But what about you two?” Ana asked the dimane and his brother. “Will you settle your differences now or later?”
Xol had turned to stare at Quetzalcoatl. Although blood still dripped from the gash down his face, Seth thought he glimpsed the return of hope.
“Later,” said Xol. “I won't raise my hand unprovoked again.”
Seth truly understood then: it was Xol who had attacked Quetzalcoatl, not the other way around. Xol had killed his brother in the First Realm and was punished forever. The only way to free his brother was to kill him again, and then himself again.
Seth wondered what would have happened if his and Hadrian's fight in Sweden had gone further than it had. Would they have been similarly punished?
I would prevent you from becoming like me, Xol had told him, seemingly a lifetime ago. Seth now knew what he meant: trapped by the Sisters and his own actions in an eternity of guilt and shame. The fact that Seth had died first didn't mean that he still couldn't be caught in the noose of twinship.
Seth put down the pike.
“Very well,” said Meg. She clapped her hands, and all six of them were transported instantly to the chamber of the Flame.
“Nice,” said Kybele, looking around with sharp eyes. “Lucky it's a bit sparse up here. You seem to be having quite a party.”
“This is no party,” said Horva, her usual serenity marred by a look of anxiety. “The world will be forever altered, no matter which way through time one travels. We stand on the threshold of a new age.”
Kybele bowed in apology. “I'm sorry, Holy One,” she said. “I meant no disrespect. What you say is quite true. This is a turning point. I would never counsel that we treat it as a joke. The opposite, in fact. I wouldn't be here otherwise.”
Ana nodded, her solemnity only matched by that of her sister. “A difficult choice lies before us. We must make that choice with our eyes unclouded. Seth.” She indicated that he was to step forwards, and he did so, the hollow stump of his arm hanging limply at his side. “Your fate lies at the heart of that decision. Do you understand what you are here to do?”
He nodded. “To convince you to send me back to the First Realm.”
“And do you know what that means?”
“When I go back, the Cataclysm will be averted.”
Meg tilted her head. “If only it was that simple.” She took his damaged arm and held it up so that he couldn't avoid looking at it, at his hollowness. “Your stigmata reminds you that your fate is intimately linked to that of another. Your brother, although separated from you for the moment, cannot be forgotten in our struggle to determine the future. Not just the future of the realms, but your future. That which awaits you is variable, but it cannot be faced without him. He is as central to this matter as you are.”
Seth knew all this, but he still bristled slightly. It seemed that he'd been hearing more about Hadrian than himself lately—and he was the one making the effort to fix the situation. Hadrian had done nothing but make it worse.
“Why does he need to be involved? If you send me back to the First Realm, that puts the link between us back the way it was.”
“Perhaps,” said Ana, “but if we do not send you back to the First Rea
lm, what happens then? He should have the opportunity, just as you do, to remedy whatever situation arises as a result of your decision.”
He frowned, and not just at the thought that the Sisters could decide to keep him in Sheol against his will. If Hadrian chose to remain in the First Realm, it would ensure that the Cataclysm took place as Horva had said it would. The realms would collide, and Yod would win. But if Hadrian decided to come to the Second Realm, either as Xol had, or as another of the Sisters’ ghosts like Quetzalcoatl, then the Cataclysm would be over. Hadrian would save the day.
His brother comes, the Ogdoad had said. We will be saved, then.
It was hard not to feel bitter. Seth was the one who had died, who had been turned into some bizarre hollow man, who had had a hand taken from him, who had lost everything he ever loved. Why should Hadrian get all the glory?
He felt Ellis watching him. He did his best to rein in his resentment.
“Sure,” he said. “Hadrian should have a chance to fix things, too. I suppose that's fair.”
“Fairness does not concern us,” said Meg, letting go of his arm. “We are interested only in balance. In symmetry.”
“Before we go any further,” Ana went on, “you must understand the true nature of choice, and what choices exactly will be open to you. In the Third Realm, you come face to face with, not just the choices that lie before you in your life, but every possible choice in every possible life. From the viewpoint of the Third Realm, a human is like a vast tree or anemone with trillions of branches, constantly splitting and joining up again, creating a maze so complex you can barely conceive of it outside the realm. This is your life-tree. You glimpse it sometimes in dreams or visions, but it is gone as quickly as it comes. The architecture of your life-tree, exposed in the Third Realm and determined by choice, is not something you can properly grasp in the worlds you presently inhabit. It would be like trying to explain to a snail what ‘up’ means.”
“We can try, though,” insisted Meg. “In the First Realm the universe is defined by matter and energy and the way they interact. In the Second Realm, will, and the people who wield it, define the shape of the universe. In the Third Realm, the universe is nothing more or less than the complex, convoluted maze formed by just one life. Remember how many choices you made today and imagine each one as an intersection on a road. How many intersections would you have at the end of the day? How many after a year, after a lifetime? A human soul can lose itself for an eternity in such a labyrinth of possibility—and many are lost this way. Some souls seek out prosperous branches and return to the First Realm in the hope of enjoying them. Others search for answers to questions that have troubled them in their previous lives. Many take the only escape they can: back into life randomly, no matter where it leads them.”
“It sounds lonely,” said Ellis.
“Perhaps that would be the case,” said Meg with a smile, “if one lived on average an isolated life, avoiding contact with others. But humans are not by nature hermetic. Their lives are like trees in a forest; their branches and roots overlap in all directions. The same individuals come and go at many different times down many different paths. In the Third Realm, those individuals—or their absence—are more apparent than ever.”
“Some might think it sounds boring, too.” Ana preempted Seth's own thought. “Where's the excitement in looking at a static picture, even one of near-infinite complexity? Won't one grow tired of it eventually? The truth is that one might, if humans had but time to endure it. Life is a cycle for such transitory creatures. Problems of matter—disease, accident, violence—kill in the First Realm. Problems of will—disorientation, despair, predation—kill in the Second Realm. Death comes to the Third Realm via problems of choice and memory, although that must seem difficult to conceive of now, in this realm. How can indecision be a sickness? How can forgetfulness cause someone to die? They both can, and when the end comes, there is ever too much left to explore.”
“Okay,” said Seth, “this is all well and good. Choice is choice in the Third Realm. But what does it mean? What do you have to offer? How can the Third Realm help me?”
“Ah, well.” Meg smiled with more amusement than he thought the question warranted. “Here's where it gets interesting. Be patient, though. This is not a simple question to answer.”
“We stand on the cusp between the Second and Third Realms.” Ana reached out to cup the Flame again. Its brilliance made her fingers appear to shiver, as though seen through the exhaust of a tiny jet engine. “Here, at the centre of a mighty space shaped by will, we, the Sisters of the Flame, have the power to alter someone's destiny within their lifetime. We can give them a glimpse of the options surrounding them and enable them to jump from one to another. We can, in effect, change their lives.”
“We can also,” said Meg, “on a whim or in service of the realms, take from someone the ability to choose, so they are trapped along the branches of destiny that brought them here. Such people are unable to change what awaits them; the equivalent of souls without flesh in the First Realm or will in the Second. They are ghosts, confined forever to one path.”
Ana removed her hand from the Flame and waved to encompass the interior of the sphere. It cleared, revealing a sea of faces. “Until then, they wait here for the end of time to come, when the barriers between all the realms will fall and the doors of their prison are opened.”
Seth stared, appalled by the empty eyes of the ghosts arrayed before him. There were thousands of them, of all shapes, sizes, and ages: men, women, and children, their life-trees pruned back to a single skinny branch, with none of the complexity and richness of a normal existence. Individually, their eyes were empty, yet en masse they exerted a terrible pressure that wasn't hope, exactly, but expectation. They were waiting, as Ana had said, for their bonds to fall away. They could only watch, passively, until that day came.
“That's foul,” said Ellis. “What sort of people are you?”
“We're not ‘people,’” said Meg, her height sufficient to loom over all of them, even Agatha. “Never mistake us for that. We are the Sisters of the Flame. Our fate is bound to it and it to us. As long as the Flame exists, so do we.”
“And we are not cruel,” said Ana with a smile. “We are perfectly impartial. We hear every case that comes before us. We do not judge on personalities or for favours. It is impossible to influence us.”
“Even when the Second Realm itself is at stake?” asked Seth. “If Yod succeeds and the Cataclysm goes ahead?”
“Even then,” Meg replied. “The Flame exists simply to facilitate choice: yours to petition us, and ours to decide what to do in response. By coming to us, you implicitly placed your life in our hands. There is no possible way for you to avoid our decision when we have made it. We will not reconsider.”
Seth hesitated for a moment at that revelation. The blank, desperate stares of the ghosts were silent witness to the peril inherent in making that choice. “Is there no other way to get back to the First Realm than through you?”
“Well, you could die and pass through the Third Realm,” said Ana.
“If I did that, the Cataclysm would just get worse.”
“Perhaps. Attempts to merge the First and Third Realms are rare. Chusor was the last, wasn't he, sister?”
“Chusor and Baal. A lot of good it did them, too. I doubt people will ever sort out the fossil record as a result.”
“How does it work?” he asked before they could get sidetracked. “What would I have to do?”
“Ah, yes. This is how we can help you,” said Meg. “Choose a moment. Any moment at all will do. We then show you your life as it turns around that moment—how past and future choices cause various world-lines to converge upon and then diverge from it. Through us, you can choose a new path to follow. We will facilitate it, if we agree that doing so is for the best.”
“What happens to this path afterwards?”
“It is forgotten.”
“Truncated,” added An
a. “Pruned. Severed.”
“Either you'll have moved on to your new path, or we'll have trimmed all your future lives back to just one: with us and the Flame,” said Meg.
“Does that clarify the situation?” asked Ana.
“I guess so.”
“What moment would you choose?” asked Meg with a provocative look in her eye.
He was cautious not to commit himself to anything. The decision, though, was easy. “Were I to choose right now, the moment before my death would be the best point. That's when everything changed.”
“Obvious and fitting.” Meg smiled.
“Shall we put it to the test?” asked Ana.
“Wait just a second.”
At the sound of Kybele's voice, Sheol shook. The gaze of the ghosts turned outwards. Seth was reminded that the centre of the Second Realm was under attack from the outside—a fact easy to forget in the bright stillness of the Flame.
“I wish to point out to you, Sisters,” said Kybele, unperturbed by the disturbance, “that there are many who do not want this world-line ended. We would be unhappy to see such a thing come to pass without at least being consulted.”
“You have your own life-trees,” said Ana. “You will not cease to exist.”
“Everything I've worked towards in this world-line depends on Seth and Hadrian. If they are allowed to avoid the Cataclysm, all my efforts will have been in vain. I think I should have the chance to argue against that, before being truncated.”
“We understand your role in this conflict,” said Meg.
“You might think you do. Yes, I allied myself with Yod for a time, but I am not a malicious creature. I'm motivated by more than just personal advancement. I do only that which is necessary—especially when killing is required. One could not be a psychopath and remain the dei of cities for long.”
Kybele was at the centre of a ring of hostile stares.
“If you're here to plead Yod's case,” Seth said, “I don't think you're going to find much support.”
“Not Yod's case, but mine and, indirectly, humanity's. Consider it from my point of view. Yod was coming whether I sided with it or not. It was looking for minions to do its bidding, and every minor dei nursing a resentment about the splitting of the realms was putting up its hand. I stepped in because I knew it was the only way to minimise the damage. As it stood, we couldn't fight Yod; the separation of the realms has given this invader too powerful an advantage, on both sides of Bardo. The only possible solution is to fight from within, on the far side of the Cataclysm. With the power of the Second Realm, the deii of the First Realm can resist this incursion. Similarly, the deii of the Second Realm can use the First in order to resist its deadly regime here. This is our chance to take Yod's initiative and turn it to our advantage. When the realms merge, we can arise together to fight back the invader.”
The Crooked Letter: Books of the Cataclysm: One Page 43