The Cathedral of Known Things

by Edward Cox

  The giant noticed Van Bam looking. ‘It is the curse of my kind,’ he explained. ‘We can heal our wounds, but the scars never fade.’

  Evidently, Bellow had been using the contents of the bowl to heal Angel; the blood had been used to paint Angel’s face, arms, hands and feet with the symbols and glyphs of blood-magic. Van Bam guessed that more decorated her body beneath her desert clothes, which were now a blanket over her. The sheen of sweat on her brow and the pallor of her skin troubled him greatly.

  ‘Don’t worry about Angel,’ Bellow said in that calming, amiable voice of his. ‘I am neutralising the poison, and she gathers strength while she sleeps.’

  ‘You have my gratitude,’ Van Bam replied, feeling unsure of himself in the presence of a Nephilim.

  ‘Would you like more water?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Then what about some food? You’d be surprised by what I’m able to grow in this cavern.’

  ‘I do not doubt you, but, really, I am fine.’

  ‘Then let’s have a conversation, you and I.’ Bellow put his water bowl aside and clasped his hands together. ‘I’m sure you have questions for me, and I’m keen to allay any fears and misconceptions that you might harbour.’ He did seem keen, almost excited by the prospect of this conversation. ‘But first, let us agree that you will call me Gulduur. None of this Hermit nonsense, now.’

  Van Bam managed a smile in return. ‘I have many questions, Gulduur,’ he said. ‘Many fears and, apparently, misconceptions too. In all honesty, I am not entirely certain where to begin.’

  ‘Perhaps I can help you there,’ Bellow offered. ‘We Nephilim enjoy stories, and Namji has been telling me some very interesting tales. Let me promise you this, Van Bam – I have never attacked the citadel of Mirage. I have never attempted to seize control of this House. I have never placed my agents among its people, and I certainly wasn’t involved in the plot to bring a Genii called Fabian Moor to Labrys Town.’

  ‘Meaning everything I was told about the Hermit’s actions was a lie?’

  ‘Not a word of it truth. The story was a ruse to misdirect you, to gain your trust. But I hope by now you are convinced that I’m not a supporter of Spiral and the Genii.’

  Van Bam chose his next words carefully. ‘Then what of the Timewatcher?’

  ‘What of Her?’

  ‘It is said that you have no faith in Her – that the Nephilim worship a patriarch instead. The Progenitor.’

  ‘Now that is a complicated issue,’ Bellow declared in surprise, clapping his big hands together. ‘For my part, I’m certainly not the Timewatcher’s enemy. As for the great creator that my people call the Progenitor – the truth of his tale is buried in the myths and legends that you people created to ensure the Nephilim are viewed as nightmares.’

  Van Bam felt slight admonishment in Bellow’s voice.

  Yes, he reasoned; he could accept that the stories of the Nephilim might have been embellished, as all stories were, but the illusionist didn’t believe for a moment that the giant before him was harmless. He thought of Buyaal, of the way Bellow had confronted him, confident and fearless. The Genii had all but fled after their brief duel. The blood-magic of the Nephilim was powerful enough to be a danger to creatures of higher magic. And where was Buyaal now? Preparing his army to invade the Labyrinth?

  ‘Tell me what’s on your mind,’ said Bellow.

  ‘Buyaal,’ Van Bam replied. ‘You told me that he had been trying to find you for a long time – that he used Angel, Namji and me as bait to lure you out of hiding. Now that he has discovered your hiding place, would it not be wise to move location? Before the Genii returns with an army behind him?’

  Bellow chuckled. ‘Yes, Buyaal used you to find me, but he was only seeking confirmation of my presence. Up until a few hours ago, he only suspected I was here.’

  The giant reflected briefly. ‘Buyaal doesn’t need to come back for me. Now he knows where I am, he also knows what I must do next – and he can guard against that from behind the high walls of Mirage.’

  ‘And what is it that you must do next?’

  ‘Send you home to Labrys Town, of course. Ahead of the Genii’s invasion force.’

  Van Bam had to quash a sudden pang of feeling lost and trapped. ‘Then not everything we were told is a lie,’ he said bitterly. ‘Ebril used Angel and me to bring word of Fabian Moor’s success to Buyaal. And now Buyaal will send an army to aid his fellow Genii.’

  ‘Be calm, Van Bam,’ Bellow said, and he tapped a long finger against his temple. ‘In my mind, I am able to see the stone monument called the Giant’s Hand, and the doorway to the Labyrinth that stands upon it. I will know when the Genii is ready to use that doorway. We have time to prepare.’

  Looking up into the giant’s blue eyes, Van Bam found it hard to remain calm. ‘I think the story of the Hermit carries a degree of truth, despite what you say,’ he said flatly. ‘Like Buyaal, you have been in Mirage since before the war began, Gulduur.’

  ‘Yes, that is true.’

  ‘Then why are you here? I do not believe for a moment that our meeting is due to blind luck. Who are you working for?’

  ‘What an interesting perception you have, Van Bam.’ Bellow was quiet for a moment, his expression inscrutable. ‘I have been doing what we Nephilim do – watching, searching, listening. Buyaal wormed his way into Mirage’s society, posing as one of their own, and he poisoned this House from the inside. But until your arrival, he had no idea why I was here, and that is what worried him – as it should. You are quite right to say that our meeting is not a coincidence.’

  Bellow narrowed his sapphire eyes at Van Bam. ‘But I can tell by your voice that there is another question hiding behind your question. Or is it an accusation?’

  Van Bam took a breath. ‘For over two years you have been here, observing what has become of this House.’ There was an almost pleading edge to his tone. ‘Why did you not send word that Mirage was under Genii occupation? Why not use the doorway to the Labyrinth to warn the Nightshade?’

  ‘As easy as that, eh?’ Bellow said with a smile. ‘For one, I have not yet told you my story. Two, the Timewatcher made damn sure that no creature of higher magic can use the doorways to the Great Labyrinth.’

  Van Bam froze, staring at the giant. He again recalled the brief confrontation between Bellow and Buyaal. ‘Your … your magic is thaumaturgy?’

  The shade of Bellow’s eyes altered subtly, suggesting that he was amused by the illusionist’s surprise.

  ‘The Nephilim are creatures of higher magic?’

  ‘Of a kind.’ Bellow shook his head at Van Bam’s dumbstruck expression. ‘I think my story will prove to be an education for you, Van Bam.’

  ‘I …’ The illusionist cleared his throat. ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘Myths and legends, my new friend, but rarely the truth is told.’ Another smile, this one sad. ‘I bet you’ve never heard a tale of my people that wasn’t filled with horror, have you?’

  Van Bam felt a sudden flush of shame, and he wished he could have told Bellow he was wrong.

  ‘Please, tell me why you are here,’ Van Bam said respectfully. ‘Why are you alone? The Nephilim travel as a herd – or is that a lie too?’

  ‘No, that one’s the truth.’ Bellow shook his head again, and a tangle of hair fell across his face. ‘I was separated from my herd – but that is another matter entirely. Suffice to say, I am lost and do not know how to find my people.’

  With unexpected abruptness, the giant’s sadness dissipated, and his big face brightened. ‘For now, enough of Buyaal and higher magic. I have a story to tell, Van Bam, and it begins with something I would like to show you.’

  Bellow picked up the bowl containing blood. He dipped the tip of his long finger into it, and then began to paint upon the rock floor between him and his guest.

 
First, the Nephilim created a spiral pattern; from it, he drew a straight line and connected it to a simple square shape, to which he added a triangle, giving it the appearance of a simple house lying on its side. Lastly, Bellow fashioned a second triangle within the square as though giving the first triangle a mirror image.

  Bellow set the bowl down, and said, ‘If you knew the story of the Progenitor and the origins of my herd, you would better understand the fear and uncertainty with which my people are perceived. To the Thaumaturgists, and most especially the Timewatcher, the Nephilim have always been abominations. We were made outcast by the Timewatcher, left to roam the realms without a home to call our own. However …’

  Bellow pointed to the spiral pattern on one side of his blood painting. ‘This represents the chaos from which the Nephilim came.’ He moved his finger along. ‘The straight line is the passage of time, an unknown count of years, representing the journey we must endure until we are delivered here.’ He tapped the square with the mirrored triangles. ‘Order and acceptance. The day my people find their true place among the realms.’

  Bellow’s massive hand encompassed the entire design. ‘This is the Nephilim’s legend, Van Bam, our prophecy. It is the symbol of the House for which we search, the home we one day hope to find.’ The giant sat back, staring at the symbol, and a distant, dreamy edge came to his voice. ‘We call it the Sorrow of Future Reason.’

  Bellow fell into silent contemplation. Van Bam was reluctant to interrupt his thoughts, but was too intrigued not to.

  ‘Forgive me, but there is much I do not know concerning the Nephilim,’ he said. ‘Why did the Timewatcher refuse to give you a House of your own?’

  ‘She had Her reasons,’ Bellow replied, snapping out of his reverie. ‘But I can tell you that the fear so many feel for the Nephilim has its origins in the Timewatcher’s treatment of us.’ The smile returned to the giant’s face. ‘I see by your expression that your faith in the Timewatcher is unquestioning. Are you wondering how such a benevolent ruler of higher magic could possibly be wrong about the Nephilim?’

  Van Bam looked around the cavern from the plateau of the huge boulder, at the jewels twinkling like stars and the multi-coloured veins of precious metal shining like nebulae beyond the golden flames of magic. Such a beautiful creation.

  The illusionist opened his hands to Bellow in a gesture of helplessness. ‘There are tales of bloodshed,’ he said. ‘All myths contain at least a seed of truth, Gulduur.’

  ‘I have to concede that,’ Bellow replied. ‘There were occasions when my herd was attacked by Aelfirian raiding parties – people too frightened and stupid to try treating with us peacefully, or without the good sense to just leave us alone. But there are tales of communion, too. Rare moments where joy was shared by Nephilim and Aelfir. There was love and union between our races, resulting in offspring. And my people have shared similar interactions with humans. I bet you’ve never heard those tales, have you?’

  ‘Only rumours.’

  ‘My herd has many stories to tell about the creatures of lower magic, Van Bam. But there was only ever one Thaumaturgist that the Nephilim could call a friend. He was a Skywatcher. And he, too, was searching for a House.’ Bellow looked at the blood painting, the symbol for the fabled home called the Sorrow of Future Reason. ‘His name was Baran Wolfe.’

  ‘Baran Wolfe?’ said Van Bam. ‘Do you mean Lord Wolfe – the Wanderer?’

  ‘That’s exactly who I mean,’ Bellow replied. ‘He came to me shortly after I had been separated from my herd, not long before the Genii took control of Mirage and the war began. Perhaps I was the last person to see Baran Wolfe before he was murdered by a fellow Skywatcher.’

  ‘Yes, at the Falls of Dust and Silver,’ Van Bam said, and then he started. ‘Wait, no – Lord Wolfe was murdered by Spiral.’

  The giant gave him a pitying look. ‘Your education really doesn’t extend very far beyond the Labyrinth, does it, Van Bam?’

  Van Bam blinked. ‘Spiral is a Skywatcher?’

  ‘The most important Skywatcher,’ Bellow assured him. ‘Spiral was known as the Word of the Timewatcher. Before he betrayed his Mother, he was the most favoured of Her Thaumaturgists.’ The giant turned the blue orbs of his eyes up to the glittering jewels above him. ‘In light of what happened, I suppose that position now lies with Lady Amilee.’

  With a sigh, Bellow looked down at Angel’s inert form, and then at Van Bam. ‘The Word had no choice but to kill the Wanderer. Wolfe was on to him, you see. He had been reading the stars, listening to the whispers of the skies, and he had divined that something was very amiss with his fellow Skywatcher, Iblisha Spiral.’

  Iblisha, Van Bam wondered. ‘Wolfe came to you here, in the desert of Mirage?’

  Bellow nodded. ‘He had sensed a troubling event brewing, but he was having difficulty divining its meaning from the skies. Though he did not know it when he appeared to me, I think Baran Wolfe had sensed the approach of the war.

  ‘Whatever omen had drawn him to Mirage, it was but one stop on a long journey he was undertaking. There was much he was unable to divine from the skies with clarity. He told me that the future was uncertain, but that all answers lay in a hidden location, a secret House that he was searching for. He referred to this House as a cathedral. Does that mean anything to you, Van Bam?’

  ‘A cathedral?’ The illusionist shook his head.

  ‘Ah, then perhaps its location remains a secret,’ Bellow said.

  Van Bam thought of Fabian Moor, and of the Icicle Forest, the mysterious House in which the terracotta jar containing the Genii’s essence had been discovered. No one seemed to know much about the Icicle Forest at all, including Lady Amilee; and besides Moor, the only other people known to have been there were dead.

  ‘The Labyrinth is supposed to be the only House inside the Nothing of Far and Deep,’ Van Bam said. ‘But I have been told that there could be many secret Genii strongholds hiding there.’

  ‘Iblisha Spiral is certainly powerful enough to create such places,’ Bellow mused. ‘Wherever this cathedral might be hidden, the Wanderer seemed convinced that very important secrets were kept there. Who can say if that is true now?’

  The giant was contemplative. ‘We spoke as equals, Baran Wolfe and I – as I like to think we are doing now, Van Bam. He told me he needed my help. He asked me to remain in Mirage. He asked if I would remain as a favour, to him – a Thaumaturgist. Can you imagine?’

  Van Bam empathised with Bellow. He recalled the first time he had met Lady Amilee, and remembered how he had felt so utterly awed in her presence that he could barely talk to her. He could appreciate how Bellow must have felt being treated as an equal by Lord Wolfe.

  ‘And why did he wish you to remain?’ the illusionist asked.

  ‘He said that he could feel trouble coming to Mirage. He asked me to wait, to hide, to not interfere with anything that I witnessed until the day came when someone arrived who would very much need my help to get home.’ Bellow considered the illusionist. ‘As you pointed out, Van Bam, I have been here for more than two years, waiting for your arrival.’

  ‘Wolfe asked you to wait for us, for Angel and me?’ Van Bam asked, taken aback. ‘He knew we would come to Mirage?’

  ‘Not specifically. I think he had a vague idea. Nothing Wolfe had divined from the skies was firm, it was all … doubt and wonder, he called it. In hindsight, the confusion was Spiral’s doing. He was covering his tracks, muddying the waters, you might say. He had made it near impossible for the Wanderer to see what he was doing. Until it was too late, of course.’

  The giant snorted a sad laugh. ‘Baran Wolfe was grateful for my help. But I think a part of him sensed his end was coming.’

  A pained glaze came to the Nephilim’s blue eyes. He looked down as Angel murmured in her sleep. She now seemed a little more relaxed beneath the swirls and patterns of blood-magic.

&n
bsp; ‘Before he continued his search for his cathedral, Wolfe said that whoever came to me seeking help, I could trust. They would be worthy, he told me. He also suggested that I might share with them the legend of my people.’

  Bellow motioned again to the blood painting on the rock between them. Van Bam stared at the spiralling pattern and the square with mirrored triangles, connected by a straight line.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘When I asked him the same question,’ Bellow replied, ‘he only said that all things were known in the end.

  ‘But you should know, Van Bam, that no other human has seen this symbol before, and I show it to you now as a mark of trust – from one orphan to another.’ The giant paused, staring at the symbol. ‘And I will tell you this – should you ever see the sign of the Sorrow of Future Reason again, you can remember that it will always lead you to friends.’

  Angel stirred. A moan escaped her lips, but she didn’t open her eyes. Bellow placed a hand upon her forehead.

  ‘Good, the fever has broken,’ he said.

  The healer’s skin had taken on a much healthier colour.

  ‘I have enjoyed our conversation, Van Bam. There is more to my story, but it must be heard later. For now I need to attend our friend Angel, and eradicate the last of the Genii’s poison.’

  Van Bam’s gaze lingered on his fellow agent.

  ‘Please,’ Bellow urged. ‘Join young Namji outside for a while. I’m sure the two of you will be keen to swap notes.’

  The Nephilim’s tone left no room for argument. The illusionist got to his feet.

  ‘Before I go,’ Van Bam said. ‘How big is Buyaal’s army?’

  ‘I would guess around ten thousand soldiers.’

  ‘So many? A tenth of the population?’

  ‘And that is only those who have been trained,’ Bellow said. ‘The Genii has subjugated this House, Van Bam. They will fight for Spiral till the death.’

  Van Bam thought of Labrys Town, and his gut knotted.