The Cathedral of Known Things

by Edward Cox

  The Nephilim towered over the illusionist.

  Van Bam studied the patterns of blood-magic on his skin. They covered his left foot and leg, sprawled up to his hip, diagonally across his stomach and chest, up to his shoulder, and down his right arm to his hand. He knew the symbols and glyphs continued in another diagonal line down his back to his buttock where they reconnected to his left leg. For a moment, he wished for a mirror in which he might see the script upon his face and head.

  ‘While my spells remain upon you, your magic will be significantly amplified,’ Bellow explained. ‘Are you ready to wield such power?’

  Van Bam looked up into the giant’s face, four foot above him. ‘I … I believe so.’

  ‘Then let us complete my work.’

  Bellow bowed towards Van Bam, whispering unintelligible words at him. Van Bam froze, his breath catching, as a wind came from the Nephilim’s mouth, and wrapped itself around the illusionist, squeezing, causing every muscle in his body to tense. He felt a burning sensation on his left foot. Where the glyphs and symbols began at his toes, they flared with a violet light that quickly spread up his leg and across his body like a lit fuse. By the time the light had sped along his arm, down his back, and across his face and head, Van Bam felt as though his senses had been finely tuned. He groaned and quivered with energy.

  A ringing filled his ears. His cane still rested on the ground where he had placed it, but now the glass flared and dimmed with green light, its song calling to the illusionist. Van Bam reached out a hand, and the cane jumped into his grasp.

  Bellow watched on, his huge face almost amused. ‘How do you feel?’ he asked.

  ‘Powerful,’ Van Bam growled.

  ‘Good.’ Bellow smiled. ‘Now you are ready to go home.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Other Side of the Door

  Samuel braced himself for the familiar, sudden lurch that always came when stepping through a doorway portal. He expected to be dragged into a spectral pathway that burrowed into the Nothing of Far and Deep, in which he would float, drift, until he was delivered to whatever realm the pathway connected to. But Samuel’s expectations were not met. Somehow, the portal turned him around, pushed him back towards the Sisterhood of Bells, and returned him to the room of Human Curiosities in the Museum of Aelfirian Heritage.

  Namji, Hillem and Glogelder emerged from the doorway alongside the old bounty hunter. But Van Bam and Clara did not.

  In his confusion, Samuel just had time to register the dead body lying on the floor – Symone the night guard – before his prescient awareness went berserk.

  In the time it took Glogelder to shout ‘The Toymaker!’ Samuel’s magic had already erupted through his veins, absorbed the atmosphere, and the threat of his environment pierced every part of his being with a thousand fishhooks tearing at his instincts. He knew exactly where each of the Toymaker’s toys were in the room, and they were everywhere. A hundred glowing dots of thaumaturgic stings surrounded the group like the lights of a distant city. The small, insect-like automatons clung to the ceiling and walls, perched upon museum models and the dead body of Symone. They skittered, trapping the group in the room, preparing to swarm.

  Samuel’s magic took control of his actions.

  He holstered the ice-rifle and pulled out the small metal cylinder that Hillem had given him, releasing a glass sphere of anti-magic into his hand. His prescient awareness flashed a new threat: Glogelder. In his panic, the big Aelf was preparing to fire his spell sphere launcher, which, in such a confined area, would see them all burned to death. Samuel didn’t give him the chance.

  As the power stone on Glogelder’s weapon whined into life, the Toymaker’s minions rushed forward, and Samuel smashed the sphere of anti-magic upon the steps that led up to the doorway.

  The shockwave moaned across the room, spreading like a ripple in water, and the hand-sized automatons froze in its wake. Deactivated, the lights of their stings died, their tails fell limp. More and more of the Toymaker’s minions fell from the ceiling and clattered to the floor. Samuel dropped to his knees, feeling as though the Timewatcher Herself had swooped past, dragging the spirit from his body. He heard Namji shouting his name before he fell forwards and rolled down the steps into nothing.

  Samuel didn’t know how long he was unconscious, but when he came to, the night air was cold on his face, and he was gently rocking to the sound of lapping water, and the chugging of an engine.

  His magic was gone. He could feel no trace of it inside him.

  The sonorous chime of a bell reverberated, striking three times before fading to silence.

  With a groan, Samuel opened his eyes and tried to sit up. Namji pushed him down again.

  ‘Take it easy,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, your magic will come back, but it’ll be a while yet.’

  Her face loomed over Samuel, her green eyes full of concern. Above her, the stars in the night sky struggled to shine through the eerie, bruised glow that hung over the Sisterhood of Bells. The stink of filthy water filled Samuel’s nostrils, and the rocking continued.

  ‘Where are we?’ Samuel asked, his throat dry.

  ‘On a boat, travelling down the River Bells. We’re safe for now.’

  A pain flared in Samuel’s temples, and he raised a hand to his head. Only then did he realise that he was wearing his hat made of charmed material which concealed his face.

  ‘No, leave it on,’ Namji instructed. ‘It’s better you stay hidden.’

  ‘Van Bam and Clara,’ Samuel croaked. He worked saliva around his mouth and swallowed. ‘What happened to them?’

  ‘They’re missing, Samuel,’ Namji said anxiously. ‘I don’t understand why we were sent back, but Clara and Van Bam didn’t come with us. Perhaps the avatar always meant them to go on alone. I just … don’t know.’

  ‘The Toymaker?’

  ‘We never saw him – as usual,’ she said bitterly. ‘But we had to leave the museum before his minions recovered from the anti-magic. The doorway had stopped working, Samuel. Without Clara we couldn’t reactivate it. We had to get out of there.’

  ‘Shit,’ Samuel whispered.

  There was fear inside the old bounty hunter; fear that his magic would never return; fear for Van Bam and Clara. Had the doorway taken them to where Known Things was kept? What was the point in separating them from the rest of the group? Perhaps Samuel and his Aelfirian colleagues had become redundant in the avatar’s plans. Were they now expendable?

  ‘We have to leave this House,’ Samuel said, trying to order his thoughts. ‘If the Toymaker is still here, his toys will wake up soon, and—’

  ‘Samuel, slow down,’ said Namji. ‘You were unconscious for a couple of hours, and a lot has happened in that time. Believe it or not, we’re still one step ahead in the game.’

  She helped Samuel to sit up, and he looked past her.

  They were on a small and battered trawler that was carrying them gently down the River Bells. Namji and the old bounty hunter sat at the stern, upon a bundle of damp netting. Towards the bow, Hillem and Glogelder stood in the control house, either side of the old Aelfirian man who piloted the boat. His hair was white and wispy, and he wore a thick cloak as he stood straight-backed at the controls.

  ‘Is that Councillor Tal?’ Samuel said.

  ‘Lucky for us, Tal was still in the Sisterhood of Bells,’ Namji replied. ‘I got a message to him and he met us at the docks. Glogelder and Hillem know their way around the seedier parts of cities, and they managed to hire a boat from a river merchant – some old drunkard who could hardly wait to take the money we gave him to the nearest tavern.’

  Frowning, Samuel looked out over the water. The River Bells was wide. On either bank, moored barges and boats were shadows; tall buildings were blocky silhouettes. Here and there, warm light spilled from windows. In the near distance, a monumental clock tower
– one of the Sisters – rose from the riverside, rising towards the sky, its clock face as bright as a moon.

  ‘Where’s Tal taking us?’ Samuel asked.

  ‘There’s an interesting answer to that.’ Namji dipped her hand into her cloth satchel. ‘Samuel, is this yours?’ She held up a large black iron key before his face.

  He shook his head. ‘No. Why?’

  ‘When I took your hat from your coat pocket, it was wrapped around this key.’

  Samuel took it from Namji. It was heavy, eight inches long at least. At one end of the shaft were three square teeth, and at the other end the bow was cut into a diamond shape.

  The symbol of thaumaturgy? Samuel was puzzled. ‘How did it get into my pocket?’

  ‘It must’ve been the avatar. There’s more, Samuel. Look on the other side.’

  Samuel flipped the key over. On the reverse side of the bow, the metal had been engraved with a triangle surrounded by a circle.

  ‘That’s the symbol for Little Sibling,’ Namji said.

  ‘Little Sibling?’

  Namji nodded. ‘That’s where we’re heading now.’

  She turned to gaze up the length of the giant clock tower rising from the riverbank ahead. Samuel remembered that Little Sibling was the headquarters for the Aelfirian governing body.

  ‘Tal’s taking us into the Panopticon of Houses?’

  ‘Not into, Samuel – underneath.’ Namji pointed to the black iron key in Samuel’s hands. ‘Tal says that’s an old cell key. He’s going to show us a secret entrance to the dungeons beneath Little Sibling.’

  ‘Oh good, more secrets,’ Samuel said, turning the key over in his hands. ‘So we have to do what – open a cell?’

  Namji shrugged. ‘That’s what we’re going to find out.’

  At that moment, Glogelder called out from the control house, ‘How’s he doing?’

  ‘He’s awake,’ Namji replied.

  Hillem and Glogelder left Tal to pilot the trawler, and approached Samuel. Glogelder had a broad grin on his face.

  ‘Reckon you saved our skins back there,’ he said, offering his hand.

  Samuel pocketed the key and allowed the big Aelf to pull him to his feet.

  ‘But you gave us a bit of a scare,’ Hillem added. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘Like I’ve been beaten up,’ said Samuel, and he took a steadying breath. ‘Do we have any idea what happened to Van Bam and Clara?’

  Both Aelfir appeared as puzzled as Samuel felt, and the old bounty hunter had to quell an uncustomary sense of panic beginning to rise within him.

  Glogelder nodded towards Councillor Tal in the control house. ‘The old man wants a word with you,’ he said.

  Confused, frustrated, frightened, Samuel left his Aelfirian colleagues and stepped into the control house, up beside the elderly councillor. He kept his Aelfirian hat on.

  ‘It’s good to see you alive, if not entirely well, Samuel.’ Tal’s large eyes were focused on the black river waters. He used no lamps to light the way; Samuel assumed it was so that no one would see the trawler’s passage. Without turning from the window, Tal added, ‘I’m sorry to hear that your friends have disappeared. I really can’t imagine that anyone would envy you at the moment.’

  ‘Funny,’ Samuel said with a small, bitter smile. ‘I’ve been saying the same thing for many years now.’

  ‘I bet you have,’ Tal said. ‘I don’t suppose that you ever knew, Samuel, but in my younger days I once helped the Relic Guild.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Oh, it was nothing really,’ Tal said. ‘Just a friendly deed for a couple of lost magickers. Though I must confess,’ he added conspiratorially, ‘I was always a little envious of the Relic Guild agents. Your lives seemed exciting . . . exotic!’

  ‘You can swap places with me if you like.’

  Tal chuckled. ‘A kind offer, but I’m an old man now with far too much experience of trouble.’ He sighed. ‘Samuel, I want you to know that I’ve seen first-hand what the Genii are capable of. I know what kind of future those bastards would have given us all if they had won the war.’

  The elderly Aelf was clearly agitated. ‘You fought for the Timewatcher during the war, didn’t you?’ Samuel asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. But not on the frontlines. I was in a special division of the secret service, gathering intelligence. It shames me to admit, Samuel, but I was never better at my job than when interrogating the officers that we caught from Spiral’s Aelfirian armies. I am not proud of some of the deeds I conducted in the Timewatcher’s name.’

  Samuel knew how he felt, and he could see the regret in the councillor’s large Aelfirian eyes.

  ‘Hillem told me that you lobbied for governorship of the Aelfheim Archipelago,’ Samuel said. ‘He said you fought to gain control of the Labyrinth’s supply line.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Interesting question,’ Tal replied evasively. ‘The truth is, Samuel, when the war ended, my soul had been damaged by the things I’d seen and done. I think I fought as hard as I did to get that position at Sunflower because of a need for penance. To do something good. Something right. Looking after the denizens of the Labyrinth, ensuring they received all they needed to survive, seemed a perfect way to make amends.’

  ‘Did it work?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I think it did. Until now.’ Tal drew a deep breath. ‘I want you to understand that I will do anything to prevent Spiral’s return. Whatever it takes.’ He shot the old bounty hunter a quick glance. ‘I assume that the key in your pocket was a gift from the avatar?’

  Samuel took the key from his pocket, and turned it over in his hands.

  Tal said, ‘There’s something in a cell beneath Little Sibling that the avatar wants you to find. But I really don’t want to be with you when you discover it. There are too many of my ghosts in that dungeon. But tell me – do you trust the avatar, Samuel?’

  Suddenly weary, Samuel put the key back into his coat pocket. He thought of Van Bam and Clara, missing, lost. Did he trust the avatar? ‘I don’t see that I have a choice.’

  ‘There are always choices, but so many of us so often make the wrong ones.’ The councillor took another breath and gave a resigned sigh. ‘Samuel, you should know that I have been removed as governor of the Aelfheim Archipelago.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It is my punishment for presiding over the lax security that let you escape from the Labyrinth, and from my custody.’ Tal held up a hand to stop Samuel jumping in. ‘But my being used as a scapegoat is the least of our problems now. Every Aelfirian ruler has been summoned to Little Sibling. The Panopticon of Houses is gathering to vote on whether it is time to stop sending supplies to the denizens of Labrys Town.’

  Samuel’s stomach lurched, and his words could not pass beyond his clenched teeth.

  ‘The Sisterhood is orchestrating the whole thing,’ Tal continued, his voice grave. ‘Its members are vastly influential people, Samuel. They are leaning more heavily than they’ve ever done on all the Houses in the Panopticon, whether major or minor. The Sisterhood will ensure that the vote does not go in the Labyrinth’s favour.’

  ‘Don’t they realise what it will do?’ Samuel said, his voice hoarse.

  ‘They don’t care,’ Tal replied. ‘Your escape from the Labyrinth has given the Sisterhood the excuse it needed. The official reason is the Retrospective. They are now saying the damage is already done. That they no longer believe that throwing your corpses into the portal in Sunflower will seal the cracks that have opened between the Houses and the Labyrinth. They have decided that the only way to ensure the Retrospective and its wild demons can never return, is to destroy the last portal to Labrys Town itself.’

  ‘Madness,’ Samuel said bitterly. ‘How could they be this blind, Tal? If they knew the truth about the R
etrospective, what the Genii are planning to do with it—’

  ‘Samuel, the truth is irrelevant to the Sisterhood.’ Tal’s voice was sympathetic but laced with the same anger that Samuel felt. ‘Oh, I’m sure they genuinely believe that you brought the Retrospective with you, but, ultimately, destroying that portal will give the Sisterhood the same kind of power that I once damaged my soul to stop the Genii gaining.’

  The thuds of Samuel’s heartbeat were loud in his ears. ‘But they already have control over the Panopticon,’ he said, voice low. ‘How can murdering a million humans give the Sisterhood more power?’

  ‘Faith,’ Tal replied. ‘In my experience, Samuel, it is the hardest thing to kill.’

  ‘Faith in the Timewatcher,’ Samuel whispered.

  ‘The Timewatcher’s last order to the Aelfir was to keep the denizens alive – that was Her final prerogative. Most Houses still worship the Timewatcher, and fear what She might do should we ever stop sending aid to the denizens. I accept that the Timewatcher abandoned us all, Samuel, and She is not coming back, no matter what we do. But the Sisterhood intend to take advantage of her absence.

  ‘Destroying the last portal to Labrys Town will also destroy the stigma of the Timewatcher. To disregard Her final prerogative without retribution will strangle the faith of the Houses until the Great Mother is no more than a vestige of an older time. And then, the Sisterhood will give the Aelfir a new religion.’

  ‘How long have we got?’ Samuel said, rubbing his forehead, wishing he could feel the reassuring presence of his magic. ‘When will the Panopticon meet? When will they vote on the Labyrinth?’

  ‘Within the next few days.’

  ‘We have to find a way to keep that supply line open,’ Samuel said. ‘The reserves won’t last long, not with a million mouths to feed. The denizens will run out of food in less than a week, Tal.’ He swore.

  ‘Samuel, the best thing you can do for the denizens is to continue following the avatar. In the meantime, I’m going to rally every sympathiser you’ve got left in the Panopticon. With Sunflower taken from me, I’ve got nothing left to lose. I might be old, but I still remember how to gather intelligence. And how to manipulate people with it.