Titus Crow, Volume 3: In the Moons of Borea, Elysia

by Brian Lumley

  'Ardatha,' de Marigny began, `Moreen tells me that you -'

  'Yes, yes,' said the wizard, cutting him short. And: 'Sit, please sit, both of you. Now, I have a tale to tell - which in itself contains something of an explanation, if you can unriddle it but just so much time in Which to tell it. The stars are coming right, de Marigny - do you know what that means?'

  De Marigny drew a sharp breath, let it out more slowly. 'Yes,' he said, 'only too well.'

  'They are coming right ... now,' Ardatha nodded, 'at any moment. We shall have -' he snapped his fingers, - that much warning!'

  De Marigny looked blank, shook his head. 'I -'

  "This star, Lith itself, is the final one in the pattern,' Ardatha said. 'And Lith is about to nova, perhaps supernova!' Even as he spoke the manse rocked, and beyond the tinted windows geysers of molten rock vented fire and steam at a madly boiling sky of smoke and bilious gases. As the floor tilted back to a level keel, de Marigny jumped to his feet, grasped Moreen's hand and headed for the dock.

  `Wait!', cried Ardatha Ell, his mouth a thin, hard and immobile slit in his face. 'You may not run from this, Searcher - not if you want to enter Elyria!'

  De Marigny paused, turned and stared hard at the tall magician. 'I don't run for my own sake, Ardatha Ell. You'd better get that fact fixed firmly in your head. And you'd better talk fast too, while I'm still here to hear you. I don't know about you and Exior, but if this dead sun is about to explode, Moreen and I - '

  'It is the way to Elysia!' again Ardatha cut him off.

  De Marigny opened the clock's door and purple light streamed out.

  'Go on then, flee!' Ardatha Ell shouted from a closed mouth. 'Time yet for you to get away, Searcher. Run - and lose everything!'

  'Hear him out,' croaked Exior K'mool. 'At least hear him out, son of my sons. You cannot imagine how much depends upon it.'

  De Marigny held Moreen close. The interior of the clock was but a step away. 'Go on then,' he said. 'We're listening.'

  Ardatha sighed, put his ear back to the sensor for a moment, again straightened up. The manse rocked again, but less violently. Ardatha waited for the disturbance to cease before beginning. Then -

  'Once long ago, where now the Milky Way sprawls its myriad stars against the sky, there was nothing. And there, to that vacuous region, came Azathoth.

  `Born in billions of tons of cosmic dust, in matter forged by gravity, in the slow seepage of massively heavy metals toward a universal centre, he was a Nuclear Chaos. And the report of his coming went out to the farthest stars, so that even now its echoes have not died away! But while Azathoth was of Nature, a true power without sentience, still he spawned others which had sentience: he was not only, in a sense, the Father of all "life" as we know it, but also of certain thermal, rather thermonuclear beings.' Ardatha paused, shrugged, continued:

  'I will not go into nuclear genealogy here; your scientists will one day fathom it in their own way, define it in their own terms - if they tread warily. But just as there may be intelligence in air, and in water, in earth and even in space, so may there be intelligence in fire.. Alas, but nuclear fire transmutes all things: metal into liquid or gas or other metals, life into death, time into space and vice versa. Its massive release warps space-time itself. Yes, and it transmuted the thermal beings, too. They themselves were changed by their own chaos of energy. Sanity into madness! They became as mad and ungovernable as the unthinking Father who spawned them. Mercifully their insanity is self-destructive: they are born mad, and on the instant annihilate themselves — and, unfortunately, all who stand near. Which is the reason why even the Beings of the Cthulhu Cycle fear them ...

  `So, what shall we call such creatures, who, when they are "summoned" or born, can turn worlds to cinders and rekindle dying suns to nuclear furnaces? In eons past they were named the Azathi — Children of Azathoth. Now, I have said that they die in the instant of their birth, which is self-evident. But if they can be kept — or keep themselves — in a prolonged or extended foetal condition, then their excess 'madness', their energy, may be drawn off and used. Unwittingly, men have been doing this since the construction of the first atomic pile; though of course theirs is only a synthetic form of the actual Azathoth life-force itself, without the sentience of the Azathi. But not only men have used — are using — this awesome power!

  'Long ages past Cthulhu saw a use for such primal forces. He calculated the angles between the Nggr, the Hang and the Nng, fathomed the warp-energy required to release him and his brethren and their allies from their prisons. Then he searched far and wide in time and space, seeking to learn that precise place and moment when the stars would be almost right, when with a little assistance the space-time matrix might be caused to warp sufficiently to break his bonds. And he saw that eventually, in Andromeda; just such an almost-perfect pattern would form itself. A vast equation, complete but for two missing qualities or quantities — forces which Cthulhu himself must insert into the equation. The Azathi, of course!

  'Cthulhu knew that at least three of Azathoth's primal children had controlled or contained themselves. Oh, they were mad but not so mad as to will themselves to annihilation. He searched the void for them, at last found two. We shall call them Azatha and Azathe, and they were all the Lord of R'lyeh required to put his eon-formed plan into being, to set ticking his unthinkable cosmic time-bomb! As for Azathu, the third of Azathoth's primal children: he could not be found, perhaps he had after all become unstable, detonated in some remote region.

  `But Azatha and Azathe remained, out there in the deepest, darkest reaches, forging ever outward in abysses beyond man's wildest reckoning. And Cthulhu reached out after them sent his Great Messenger, Nyarlathotep, to parley with them — and made a pact. It was this: that they return, locate themselves in the hearts of certain suns, remain dormant down all the eons and wait on his instructions. Then, at a time of his choosing, he would awaken them, let them be fulfilled, give them glory and life-everlasting, free them of their elemental madness! His reward? — the very multiverse would see how great are the works of Cthulhu, who causes stars to blaze up at his coming!

  `Since then ... the stars have wheeled in their inexorable courses, the pattern has formed, the time is nigh. A little while ago a star exploded, became a super-nova on Andromeda's far flank. That was Azatha. And in the heart of Lith, at this very moment ..

  De Marigny, despite his urge to get away, had been fascinated by Ardatha Ell's story. Now he completed the wizard's tale: 'Azathe?'

  Ardatha nodded. 'And the pattern will be complete. All chains broken, all "spells" unspelled. The Great Old Ones will be free.'

  Moreen spoke up: 'But how can that possibly help us? We seek Elysia, from which place Henri hopes to fight the Great Old Ones, assist in their destruction.'

  'Wait!' Ardatha commanded. He listened yet again to his wand and his eyes grew huge. 'Soon now!' he hissed. 'Very soon!'

  Exior,' said de Marigny, his voice tense, 'get in the clock. You, too, Moreen.'

  Outside, beyond the windows, the lava lake had grown calm. It was an utterly unnatural calm, producing a leaden oppressiveness that came right through the walls of the manse to those within. The lava swirled slowly, sluggishly, red-veined under a crumbling crust of black rock and ash; the smoke- and gas-clouds churned low overhead; in the distance, lightning raced in weird patterns along the underside of the clouds, springing sporadically to strike the sullenly shuddering surface.

  'Well,' said de Marigny, one foot on the clock's threshold. 'Is there an answer to Moreen's question? How can the death, or rebirth, of this star help us?'

  Ardatha smiled, a strange cold smile. 'You have seen how Cthulhu is a great magician, a fabulous mathematician. Aye, but he is not the only one. The N'hlathi knew Cthulhu's purpose at once, and they fashioned a reminder and a warning in the Vale of Dreams in Elysia. Kthanid is of the very flesh of Cthulhu; when he knew what Cthulhu would do, he set about to maintain a balance. You ask "where is Elysia?" Elysia is
where Kthanid and his elder-council desire it to be. When Lith evaporates, space-time will warp and thrust in the direction of Elysia, and your time-clock will be propelled through that warp, that fracture, into Elysia. Don't fight it, de Marigny. Don't try to fly out of it or avoid it. Do nothing! All has been calculated.'

  De Marigny knew he must enter the clock, but there was still so much he didn't understand. 'But how do you know all of these things?' he asked. 'How can you be sure?'

  Ardatha raised an eyebrow. 'And am I not a magician in my own right? Some of it I have fathomed, unriddled. And some I have had from Cthulhu himself. For have I not eavesdropped on his communications with Azathe? This was Kthanid's reason for sending me here, so that he might know the precise moment when —' He paused, came instantly alert as never before.

  Ardatha's wand began to tremble. The tremors rapidly spread themselves to the entire manse; it shuddered, rocked, was shaken as in the fist of some inconceivable colossus.

  'Ardatha!' de Marigny cried out loud over the groaning and grinding of the manse. 'Quick, man — get in the clock!'

  'I don't need your time-clock, Searcher,' said the wizard. 'But you do. You need it right now. Good luck, Henri!' He snatched up his wand — which at once retracted to its normal size — saluted the time-clock with a strange gesture, disappeared like a light switched off !

  Moreen and Exior dragged de Marigny into the time-clock. And after that —

  Lith was no more!

  The time-clock was very nearly impervious to all forces and pressures. It had survived, even escaped from, the lure of black holes; it had breached all known temporal and spatial barriers; it had journeyed in weird intermediate, even subconscious dimensions. But even so, it had never before encountered forces like those which worked on it now. Ardatha Ell had warned de Marigny not to resist; now, even if he would resist, he could not. Time did not allow. The time-clock itself did not allow. Its controls no longer worked. It, was a *twig whirled along a gutter in a cloudburst, a canoe caught in the maelstrom.

  Light and heat and radiation — even a little matter — exploded outward in such a holocaust of released ENERGY that the clock was simply carried along on its shock wave. For those within — because they were enclosed in an area which was timeless, and yet, paradoxically everywhere and when — it was acceleration without gravity, without the fatal increase in mass which Earthly physics would otherwise demand. But it was more than that. Space-time's fabric was wrenched by Azathe's rebirth and instant death; it was torn, finally ripped asunder. All dimensions of the continuum became one in a crazy mingling, became a new state. Barriers Man's science had not even guessed at went crashing, and crashing through the chaos of their collapse came the time-clock.

  And it came -

  - Into Elysia!

  Elysia, yes, but no longer that magical place as described by Titus Crow. De Marigny saw this as soon as the whirling of his psyche settled and his mundane senses regained control. For this was Elysia with all of the magic removed.

  Rain lashed the time-clock where it sped of its own accord high above a land grey and sodden. Black clouds scudded in boiling banks, turning the rays of a synthetic sun to the merest glimmer. The sky-islands and palaces floated on air as before, but no transports came and went, no iridescent dragons sped on bone and leather wings through the lowering skies. The aerial roadways of the cities carried no traffic; the streets below shone dully, empty of life; there did not appear to be any life in all Elysia.

  But then the scanners told de Marigny how he erred, the scanners and Moreen and Exior's combined cry of warning. There was life here, behind him, even now bloating monstrous in the wake of the clock!

  The blow fell on de Marigny like a crashing, crushing weight. He saw, and was shattered by the sight. For in one soul-destroying moment he saw exactly how, exactly why, the clock's scanners and sensors were now full of the sight and sound and presence of these things: the massed hordes of the Cthulhu Cycle — including and led by Cthulhu himself!

  It was as simple as this: they had followed him through the breach! He who had sought only to assist Elysia, had doomed her! Cthulhu was free, he was here, and The Searcher had led him here!

  It was all so obvious, so very obvious. Everything de Marigny had done since Titus Crow rode his Great Thought to him in Borea might have been designed to draw Cthulhu's attention. Ithaqua the Wind-Walker had doubtless known de Marigny was seeking Elysia; Nyarlathotep, in both his primal and current forms, he too had known; the Hounds of Tindalos had known; and because all of them reported directly to Cthulhu, so too the Lord of R'lyeh. And where better to strike their first blow against universal sanity than Elysia? And how better to get there than by following de Marigny, whose place in Elysia was assured?

  `I've betrayed you!' de Marigny cried then in his agony, through clenched teeth. `All of you ... all Elysia!'

  'Oh,. Henri, Henri!' Moreen clung to him sobbing.

  'Nor he put her gently aside. 'I came here to fight, and I can still fight!' With his mind he reached out for the time-clock's weapons.

  `They won't work for you, Henri,' Exior K'mool shook his head. 'See, the clock has a mind of its own now. It flees before this hideous army. And they follow on, determined to hound us down, and whoever awaits us at the end of our journey.'

  Exior was right the clock's weapons would not fire, the space-time machine refused to respond to de Marigny's touch. And faster than its unimaginable pursuers — answering some unknown; unheard summons — it sped on. across Elysia, across the once-Frozen Sea, where now the ice bucked and heaved and waterspouts gouted skyward, toward its goal, the Icelands, where dwelled Kthanid in the heart of Elysia's mightiest glacier. The Hall of Crystal and Pearl: de Marigny saw it again in his mind's eye as once he had seen it in a prophetic dream, that throneroom of

  Kthanid, spokesman of the Elder Gods themselves. And how would that mighty beneficent Kraken greet him now, he wondered, whose ambition had brought ruin on all Elysia?

  The time-clock dipped low and skimmed across ice-cliffs, plunged toward an entrance carved from the permafrost of a vast cavern. But even upon entering the complex of caves and corridors that led to Kthanid's sanctum sanctorum, the clock was slowing down, its scanners dimming, sensors blanking out. The controls were totally dead now, and darkness closing in fast.

  `Henri?' In the deepening gloom, still Moreen clung to The Searcher.

  `Elysia's finished,' de Marigny felt drained, his voice was cracked. `Even the time-clocks are running down. This place must be their final refuge the refuge of Elysia's peoples, I mean, and of their leaders. If Cthulhu can find them here he can find them anywhere, so why run any farther? This is the end of the line ...' Even as he spoke the clock came to a halt; its door swung open and its now feeble purple glow pulsed out; the three gazed upon the interior of the vast Hall of Crystal and Pearl.

  Exior K'mool was first to step out. The clock had come to rest deep inside the enormous clamber, close to the curtained alcove where sat Kthanid's throne. The curtains were drawn now and the throne itself invisible, but still Exior felt the awesome atmosphere of the place, knew that he stood at a crossroads of destiny. The shimmering curtains went up, up and up, to the massively carved arch which formed the alcove's facade. And wizard that he was master of wonders, still Exior went down on his knees before those curtains and bowed his. head. 'The place of the Eminence!' he whispered.

  De Marigny and Moreen followed him, flanked him, gazed with him as he lifted his head. And as at a signal the curtains swept open!

  De Marigny might have expected several things revealed when the curtains swept aside. He might even have guessed correctly, if he'd guessed at all. But in fact it had happened too quickly; his mind had not yet adjusted to his whereabouts: the fact that, however disastrously, he finally stood in Elysia; and so the physical presence of what - of who he saw there at the head of the great steps behind the curtains, before the throne and beside the onyx table with its huge crimson cushion and sh
ewstone big as a boulder, was simply staggering.

  `Henri!' Titus Crow's face had been drawn, haggard -but it lit up like the sun at the sight of The Searcher. 'Henri - you made it but of course I knew you would. You had to!'

  `Titus!' de Marigny tried to say, except nothing came out. On his second attempt he managed a croak, but recognizable anyway. `Titus ...'

  It shuddered out of him, that word, that name and in it was contained all the agony of his soul. He swayed, might have fallen. Crow started forward, paused, spoke quickly, forcefully: `Henri, I know how you feel. Like the greatest traitor who ever lived, like Judas himself. I know, because that's how I've been feeling. Forget it. You're no Judas. You're Elysia's greatest hero!'

  `What?' de Marigny's brow furrowed; he knew he was hearing things.

  `What?' Moreen was equally confused. `A hero?' But Exior K'mool only smiled.

  `No time for long explanations, Henri, Moreen,' said Crow. 'You know .what's followed you, who's on his way here - to the Hall of Crystal and Pearl even now. Come up here, quickly! You too, Exior.'

  They climbed the steps, de Marigny falteringly, assisted by Moreen and Exior. 'They say a picture's worth a thousand words,' said Crow. `So look at this - for I've lots to say to you and no time to say it all.'

  He touched the great crystal and milky clouds at once parted.

  They gazed upon Elysia. Upon an Elysia falling into ruinst

  The drenched, leaden skies had been empty before, but now they were full of death. The Hounds of Tindalos were everywhere, chittering round and about the aerial palaces, the tall buildings, even the lower structures. They were like a cloud of lice around host beasts: the Beings at the head of that monstrous airborne procession. Cthulhu was there, no longer dreaming but awake, crimson-eyed, evil beyond imagination. Flanking him, on his right, YogSothoth seethed behind his shielding globes, unglimpsed except in the iridescent mucous froth which dripped from him like pus; and to Cthulhu's left, there strode the bloated figure of Ithaqua the Wind-Walker, snatched here in an instant from Borea; beast-god of the frozen winds that howl forever between the worlds. And these were but a few ...