Oblivion's Grasp

by Eric T Knight

  She saw Shorn staring down, his shoulders shaking with suppressed emotion. How much they had been through together. If only she could speak with him one last time.

  He, too, eluded her touch.

  Both of them she saw as if they were beyond too, their normal surroundings stripped away. She had the feeling that if she could see either one of them in their world, she could use them as a beacon and draw herself back, but she had no idea if that was right either or just part of her bizarre imaginings.

  There was Ya’Shi, seemingly standing on light. He was more solid than she was. You’re doing it again, he said. Haven’t you learned anything?

  But when she tried to ask him for help he faded away and she might have only imagined him.

  At least she had stopped the Children, saved lives, brought them home, redeemed her own crimes. That must count for something.

  But that didn’t seem real either and she could no longer be sure it had really happened.

  I am…?

  She realized she could no longer remember who she was. Was it important? She saw other figures drifting around her. An older woman with a kindly face who seemed familiar. A stern woman with her white hair pulled back into a tight bun. A prim woman with perfect bearing.

  Who were they?

  She drifted. Alone. Lost. Nameless.

  There was something different in the darkness. A pulsating glow, flickering red and yellow. It was so bright it was almost painful.

  She reached out for it and somehow managed to draw closer to it. She didn’t know what it was, only that she had wanted to find this particular glow for a very long time. Her need was almost painful.

  Closer yet, but there was something in the way, some sort of gauzy barrier. She reached out to tear it out of the way and knew sudden, sharp pain.

  She drew back with a soundless cry.

  What was it? Some kind of web or veil. She was afraid to touch it again.

  But she longed for the bright glow. She had to get to it, though she was not sure why.

  Hey.

  Floating near her was some kind of strange man with yellow skin and no hair. Was he part fish?

  You have to leave your body behind to go there, he told her.

  I’m afraid. It is all I have left, all that remains of me.

  He shook his head. Still you do not learn. Your body is not you. It is a construct, a thing that houses the idea of you for a short while. You can lose it, but you cannot lose yourself.

  I don’t understand.

  Your body is not real. It is only a projection of your thoughts. Change the thought that you must hold onto it and you will be free of it.

  But what will I come back to?

  He shook his head. You don’t have to come back to it. But if it is important to you, then you can come back to it.

  How?

  He tapped his temple. Use this. Use your mind.

  She thought about it. I can’t do it.

  Then you can’t go in there.

  She looked from him to the glow and back. There is no other way?

  You could leave.

  But I want to go in there. There is something in there I want very badly to see, though I cannot remember what it is.

  It is your choice. It has always been your choice.

  She considered this, then turned back to the barrier. I have waited too long. I have to know.

  Then go. The only thing standing in your way is your fear. It was ever your only real obstacle.

  She let go. A weight seemed to fall away from her. Her body sank away into the darkness. She was less and more at the same time. She passed through the barrier easily.

  She broke through into light. Not daylight. It was too leaden and sulfur yellow. She was flying. Far below was thick, twisted jungle that stretched in every direction. A vast, turgid river. Beside the river on one side was a barren stone plateau. A black creature of blades and hard angles looked up at her, but it could not trouble her.

  She could no longer see the scarlet and yellow glow which had drawn her, but she could feel it. With no body to encumber her it was simple to drift that way.

  Off to the side, on the opposite side of the river from the barren plateau, was a rocky peak, smoke drifting from the hole in the top. Something huge and rubbery crawled from the hole and bellowed at her, but she was too far away to care.

  She did not notice as it began to pursue. Nothing mattered but the lodestone that drew her onwards, a sense that she was approaching something vital.

  No, not something. Someone.

  An anxiety that was not her own gripped her and she willed herself to move faster. The terrain below raced by.

  She came to a place where the strange world ended, just dropped away into nothing. Down below was only a writhing, purple darkness. There were things in that darkness, things that hungered and clawed their way toward the light. Now the fear she felt was her own.

  The river was not turgid here. It poured up out of the purple darkness, foaming and crashing as if chewing away at unseen rocks. The presence which drew her was there, under the surface of the river.

  Her fear increased. Looking back the way she had come, she saw the huge, rubbery creature pursuing, rapidly drawing closer. She did not have long.

  A voice in her mind: Help me.

  She went lower. There, submerged in the river, was a long, rectangular thing, a coffin made of stone. The river was gnawing at it, had been for a very long time. It was worn thin and brittle. How it had survived for so long was a mystery.

  She had to get it out of there before it collapsed completely, but it was impossible for her to move it. It was too big. She was too insubstantial. She could feel the huge, rubbery creature getting closer. Like the rabbit tensing as the predator approaches, she prepared to flee.

  In her head was the yellow-skinned man again. Have you really forgotten already?

  What did he mean?

  The huge creature was almost on her. It reached for her with its bloated hands.

  You were the River. Your only limits are those you have given yourself.

  Oh. Suddenly it made sense. What he said was true. She remembered the vastness of the River. She remembered it now.

  Casually, almost negligently, she pushed outward. The rubbery creature fell back from her, roaring at the indignity.

  She turned her attention back to the stone coffin. It was simple to wrap her will around it and pull it up out of the current. She turned and thought the gauzy barrier she had passed through to enter this place. It appeared instantly. The huge creature foamed and snarled at her. She ignored it.

  A nudge with her will and the gauzy barrier parted. She took the coffin and passed through while the huge creature bellowed in impotent rage.

  Back in the depths of beyond, around her the darkness, tiny, faint pinpoints of light gleaming in the vastness.

  She tapped on the stone coffin. Once more and it cracked open. A figure spilled out from within it.

  The figure stood up and looked at her. Then it took hold of her and pulled.

  Seventy

  She was choking. She couldn’t get any air. She’d forgotten how to breathe. Someone patted her on the back and all at once she remembered. She gasped and rolled over onto her back.

  Bright sunlight hurt her eyes. She put up her hand to block it. Her hand shook. She was so weak that she couldn’t hold it there.

  Someone was helping her sit up.

  “What is your name?”

  She considered this. She started to say she didn’t know, but then she realized she did. “Netra.”

  “Thank you, Netra. You saved me.”

  It was a woman’s voice. Netra turned her head to look at her. She looked like no woman Netra had ever seen. There was something inhuman about her, though she was composed of all the features recognizable as human. But her skin was too hard, like glazed stone rather than flesh. Her features were too symmetrical. Her eyes were too blue, like the sky on an impossible summer day. They hu
rt to stare into.

  “Who are you?” Netra asked her, although she knew already.

  “Once I was known as Xochitl, but that was long ago and that name may not mean anything to you.”

  Netra felt her heart begin to race. Once again she had difficulty breathing. “Are you real?” she asked. “Am I real?”

  The not-woman smiled. “Yes to both of those.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “You saved me. You came into the Pente Akka and pulled me free.”

  “I did?” Netra pondered this. “Yes, I remember. A little.” Other things began to come back to her then and she remembered the Children, the danger that they posed. She looked around, alarmed. “The Children?”

  Xochitl frowned. “Are you speaking of Melekath’s Children?”

  Netra nodded.

  There was sorrow in Xochitl’s eyes. “They are sealed away in an eternal prison.”

  “No. They escaped. They were about to destroy everything.” Netra paused. Like images seen at the bottom of a body of water, fragments of memory began to filter back. “I brought them home,” she said, awe in her voice.

  Xochitl went still and closed her eyes. For a minute she remained thus, then she opened her eyes and smiled once again. “It is true. You have restored them.” There was wonder in her voice. “How did you do this?”

  “I don’t know.” Then Netra remembered Shorn, his immovable loyalty, his unbreakable strength. She remembered Cara, her gentle, yet fierce, love. “I had lots of help.”

  “It is a remarkable story, I am sure,” Xochitl said. “I would like to hear it.”

  Netra opened her mouth, then frowned. Her past was shattered pieces. “I can’t tell you. Not yet. It’s like a dream. I only remember pieces and I don’t know where they fit.”

  “You went into the River,” Xochitl said suddenly, her eyes widening.

  At her words a whole series of pieces clicked into place all at once. “I remember now,” Netra said breathlessly. “I remember being there.”

  “Tell me what it was like.” Xochitl was looking at her oddly. Was that hope in her eyes? Was it awe?

  “I don’t know if I can. The words won’t fit.”

  “Try.”

  “It was eternity and yet…it was only an instant. I was no longer me. Well, I still was, but I was everyone at the same time. I realized then that we had forgotten who we are. We thought we were many instead of one and we were all afraid and our fear was making us do crazy things.”

  Xochitl was staring at her raptly.

  “Among us were those whose fear and isolation were magnified beyond the rest. So much pain.” Her voice wavered.

  “The Children,” Xochitl said.

  “When I felt their pain…” Netra frowned. “Our pain. When I felt our pain I reached out to them and drew them to me. I drew them back where they belonged.”

  “You accomplished what I thought was impossible. I thought the Children would never be returned to the Circle. I had some idea that if they could be brought to the River it might be done, but I thought that was impossible as well. The power there is too great to be controlled. It would have destroyed even me if I had tried. Yet somehow you managed to do it. This is what I want to know. How did you do it?”

  “I don’t…” Netra struggled to find the words. How could she explain what had happened? It was something beyond her comprehension and already it was slipping away from her. An inspiration came to her. “I didn’t do anything. It was doing that had caused all my problems. Instead, for the first time in my life, I let go. I abandoned myself.” She made a frustrated sound. “There’s no way to explain it, but once I did that I realized that I belonged there. It was only my thinking that I didn’t which made it difficult. Does that make any sense?”

  Xochitl pondered this for a time, then shrugged. “I don’t know if it does. I don’t know if it ever will.”

  “I wish there was a better way to explain it.” Netra rubbed her temples. “It’s already fading.”

  “You’ve been through a lot. For now, you should rest and there is something I must do.” Xochitl stood up.

  Netra tried to get up too, but she felt weak and she quickly gave up. “Where are you going?”

  “To finish what I started. The rift we made into the abyss when we created the prison is getting bigger. It has to be sealed. That’s what I was trying to do when I became trapped.”

  Netra stared at her, perplexed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What abyss? A rift?”

  “Later. Stay here. I will return for you.” Xochitl laid a cool hand on Netra’s forehead. Netra felt Song pouring into her, restoring her. All at once she felt wonderfully sleepy. “Rest,” Xochitl said.

  As Netra lay down she heard Xochitl calling out familiar names: Tu Sinar, Gorim, Golgath, Sententu, Protaxes, Khanewal, Bereth.

  “Some of them are dead,” Netra said sleepily, wondering where that knowledge came from. “Maybe all of them.”

  Xochitl gave her a look and then continued calling.

  The last thing Netra saw before falling asleep were three figures rising up out of the ground. One appeared as a beautiful woman with feline eyes. Another was on all four and bestial in form, with a long tail. The last was tall and regal, with gold skin.

  When Netra awakened Xochitl was back, sitting on the ground beside her. She looked tired. Netra sat up. They were in a small meadow bordered by pine trees. Birds called in the distance and there was the sound of a stream.

  “Did it work?” Netra asked.

  “I believe so. At least for now it will hold.”

  Netra reached out tentatively and touched Xochitl’s arm. So much was still foggy, but the memory of longing to meet Xochitl was strong. “You were gone for so long,” Netra said. “We thought you were angry and had turned your back on us.”

  “I went to try and fix the problem that I created. I saw that the abyss was leaking into our world and I knew if it was not stopped we would eventually be overrun.”

  “What happened? How did you become trapped there?”

  “Here, let me show you.” She touched Netra on the temple.

  Netra saw her, kneeling at the edge of purple darkness. There was a black rip, sparks coming from it intermittently. Nearby was the gauzy boundary that marked the edge of the Pente Akka. Xochitl’s hands were glowing as she wielded a flow of Stone power, directing it at the rip, sealing it shut.

  There was a tremor, like an earthquake. The Pente Akka rippled and suddenly, without warning, it swelled, spilling over Xochitl.

  As it closed around her, just before the flow of Stone power was sliced through, Xochitl used the Stone power to seal herself in raw stone.

  The vision ended.

  “If I hadn’t been already wielding Stone force, I would have been destroyed nearly instantly. As it was, there was nothing I could do but stay there and wait.”

  “But…that was thousands of years ago. You’ve been there this whole time?”

  Xochitl nodded. “As I imprisoned Melekath and his Children, so I was myself imprisoned. The irony of my predicament did not escape me. Perhaps there is justice in this world.”

  “You couldn’t have known what would happen when you created the prison,” Netra protested. “You had to do something. The Children were dangerous.”

  Xochitl’s expression was stark. “Do not make it something it was not. I buried them alive, knowing they could not die. I should never have listened to Lowellin. I should have found another way. There was still time.”

  Netra shuddered, suddenly remembering what it had felt like to be in the prison. “At least they are free now.”

  “They are free.” Xochitl regarded her, sadness on her face. “When I shared my memory with you just now I saw some of your memories. I did not mean to intrude.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “You have been through a great deal.”

  Netra’s brow creased as she tried to recall. She felt the truth in Xochitl’s wo
rds, but so much of it was still missing or disconnected.

  “You broke the prison because you thought I was trapped in there,” Xochitl said.

  Netra shuddered as the memory returned to her. “I did. I was lost and desperate. I thought it was the only way.” She remembered running across the desert, filled with power and rage, but it seemed almost like something that had happened to someone else. The emotions had lost their impact.

  “It needed to happen,” Xochitl said. “Everything. Just as it did. It was the only way.”

  Netra was silent, remembering the destruction of Thrikyl, the siege of Qarath. So many lives lost. But no, not lost. Returned to the River where they belonged. “I think I can see that now. Only pure desperation could have driven me to risk the River as I did.”

  “So you will lay down your burden of guilt?”

  “I think I already have. I can still feel it there, but it doesn’t hurt to touch it.”

  “Good.” Xochitl laid her hand on Netra’s shoulder. “There are those I wish to find now, Melekath and Lowellin. We have much to speak of. Is there somewhere you would like me to take you first?”

  “Qarath. But there is something you should know. Lowellin was…the ingerlings devoured him.”

  Xochitl shook her head. “I wish I could say I was surprised. I assume he went after Melekath?”

  Netra nodded.

  Xochitl stood, helping Netra up. “He always hated Melekath. It was something I never understood.”

  “Hatred doesn’t always need a reason.”

  “You are correct in this. Are you ready? It is best if you close your eyes. Traveling through the Stone can be very disorienting.”

  Netra did as she said. Xochitl wrapped her arms around her. There was a brief, frightening feeling of tremendous weight pressing on her from all sides, and then she felt the sun on her skin once again.

  “Here we are,” Xochitl said.

  Netra opened her eyes and saw Qarath in the distance, about a mile away. Xochitl started to sink into the ground.

  “One more thing.” Xochitl paused. “The ingerlings. Lowellin said they would devour the Circle once they were done feeding on Melekath. Are those things still out there? Should we do something about them?”