The Serpent Bride

by Sara Douglas

  Now, as he had over the past year, Isaiah's gaze managed to discern a blackened shape huddled against the walls of the abyss.

  Kanubai was rising closer.

  He was still far, far below, but every time Isaiah came here he could see that Kanubai was a little nearer.

  Thin black fingers suckered into tiny cracks in the abyss.

  A darkened face, staring upward, feeling the weight of Isaiah's regard.

  Kanubai had once been stoppered tight in his abyss, but was no longer. Those ancient cursed magi who had built the glass pyramid, and then opened it into Infinity, had unwittingly cracked open the stopper Isaiah and Lister had placed over the abyss.

  Kanubai had been inching his way through that crack ever since.

  Hello, Isaiah.

  Isaiah fought down his nausea. Kanubai had been whispering to him for many years now. At first nothing but unintelligible thick mutterings, but now almost every word was clear.

  What do you, Isaiah?

  Isaiah never replied. The last thing he wanted was to get into conversation with the beast.

  Do you know what I will do to your river, Isaiah, when I rise?

  Isaiah knew he had to break the connection. He had spent too long in here. He had to leave now before--

  He went cold.

  In his vision of Kanubai, Isaiah thought he had seen, just for a moment, something clinging to Kanubai's back.

  Or something in his hands, perhaps.

  Isaiah opened his eyes, then rose to his feet, stumbling a little in his foreboding as he made for the doorway out of the Infinity Chamber.

  Something else rose with Kanubai.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Royal Palace, Ruen, Escator

  Maximilian stepped into the chamber where he met with his Council of Friends and saw that for once he was the last to arrive.

  Egalion, Garth, and Vorstus regarded him a little warily. Egalion and Garth had been well aware of the tension between Maximilian and Vorstus, but had no idea of the cause. Both Garth and Egalion had, at different times, approached Maximilian cautiously, wondering what the problem might be, but Maximilian had waved away their gentle queries, saying there was nothing wrong save that he was suffering prewedding nerves.

  Maximilian did not think Vorstus would be any more forthcoming with the two men if they were also to approach him.

  Maximilian did not take his seat, but walked over to a window and leaned on the sill, looking out. "I have decided to depart for Pelemere, there to meet with the Lady Ishbel," he said. "Within the week."

  Egalion and Garth looked at each other, but it was Vorstus who answered.

  "But we have not yet heard if the negotiations StarWeb is conducting with the Lady Ishbel on your behalf have been successful."

  "Oh," said Maximilian, turning about and looking Vorstus in the eye, "I am sure they will be successful,

  aren't you?"

  Vorstus said nothing, holding Maximilian's eyes easily.

  "Maxel," Garth said carefully, "how can you know?"

  "Because I feel it in my bones," Maximilian said, but mildly enough. The serpent--Light--had sent Ishbel to him. Maximilian had no real idea why, but he hoped it was because Light had decided only that the Persimius line needed a bit of strengthening and the Lady Ishbel's bloodlines would do nicely. Perhaps she might have some memories with which to refurniture his Twisted Tower.

  The offer of this bride did not have to mean that Elcho Falling was needed.

  "Besides," Maximilian continued, putting a disarming smile on his face, "I grow restless sitting here in Ruen. I want to be doing something, and even if the Lady Ishbel takes one look at my face and decides she'd rather marry a--"

  Frog.

  "--toad, then at least we'll have had the joy of many weeks on the road with the wind in our hair and the chance to meet up with Borchard and Malat in Kyros along the way. What say you, Garth, Egalion? Do you feel like a jaunt eastward?"

  Garth laughed. "How can we refuse!"

  Maximilian looked at Egalion. "We'll bring four or five units of the Emerald Guard. They shall keep us safe enough, and make a splendid showing for the Lady Ishbel."

  "But to practical matters," Vorstus said. "Who shall govern Escator in your absence?"

  Maximilian looked at Vorstus. Not you. "The Privy Council of Preferred Nobles have my authority to make what decisions are necessary. I shall not be gone too many months."

  Vorstus gave a little smile and looked away. He was not surprised that Maximilian no longer trusted him.

  No matter. Maximilian was doing precisely what Vorstus wanted anyway.

  Over the next few days Maximilian busied himself with preparations for departure, as well as briefing the Privy Council. Maximilian was glad to be leaving Ruen. Ever since he'd had his confrontation with Vorstus he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Vorstus may have left him down in the Veins deliberately.

  Why, Maximilian had no idea, which itself made him question whether he was wrong about Vorstus, but he could not stop thinking about it.

  Seventeen years in such horror...

  Maximilian had reconciled himself long ago to the loss of those seventeen years. He had thought he'd reconciled himself to the horror he'd endured during that time--the beatings, the constant darkness, the never-ending swing of the pick, over and over, the dust and humidity and heat, the cave-ins, the pain...

  The loneliness, the sheer mental desperation, year after year after year.

  He thought he'd put all that behind him. Cavor, the man who had condemned him to the mines, was long dead.

  Maximilian could walk away from the nightmare.

  But what if Vorstus had also been aware of the plot to keep him incarcerated? What if the man who had guided his rescue had also dictated the timing of that rescue?

  What if the nightmare was only in remission, not dead?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Palace of Aqhat, Tyranny of Isembaard

  When there came a knock at the door, far earlier in the morning than usual, Axis was surprised to see Ba'al'uz waiting for him.

  "Isaiah asked me to collect you today," Ba'al'uz said, "so that we might meet with him in his private chambers at the tenth hour."

  "But that is two hours or more away," said Axis.

  "I thought perhaps you and I might put those hours to good use," said Ba'al'uz. "For a chat, perhaps. Do you wish to come like that, or...?"

  Axis looked down.

  All he had on was a towel from his morning ablutions.

  Axis grinned. "You caught me early," he said. "Give me a moment."

  And but a minute later, clad more respectably in light-colored trousers and waistcoat, with sandals on his feet, Axis set off with Ba'al'uz.

  "Isaiah tells me you witnessed his communication with the Lord of the Skraelings," Ba'al'uz said without preamble as he led them along a corridor with huge, unglazed windows along one side.

  "Indeed. It was most curious. I have many questions."

  "It was why I came early for you. I thought you would want to know more."

  "And you don't mind answering?"

  "I have nothing to hide from you, Axis. Isaiah has requested that I indulge your every question, and so I

  will."

  Axis doubted very much that Ba'al'uz had nothing to hide, but hoped that, under Isaiah's directive, he might at least provide some answers to Axis' more pressing questions.

  "Who are you, Ba'al'uz," Axis said. "What are you to Isaiah?"

  "I am Isaiah's maniac."

  "Yes, but what--"

  "I am Isaiah's brother," Ba'al'uz said, grinning at the expression on Axis' face. "His elder brother by some dozen years."

  "Then why is he tyrant, and not you?"

  "Ah," said Ba'al'uz. "Thereby hangs a tale. Please, if you will, step through here."

  Ba'al'uz indicated a doorway in the corridor, and Axis walked through into a magnificently tiled veranda commanding views over the surrounding countryside. Ten m
inutes' walk beyond the palace flowed the emerald waters and reed-covered riverbanks of the Lhyl, and just beyond that, on the far bank, rose the massive pyramid of DarkGlass Mountain. It was covered in blue-green glass and surmounted by a cap of gold.

  Axis thought it the most beautiful and yet, somehow, the most deadly thing he had ever seen. He had questions about that, too, but for the moment he was intrigued more by the fact that Ba'al'uz and Isaiah were brothers.

  "Do you know of the manner in which a tyrant comes to the throne of Isembaard?" Ba'al'uz said, leaning on the railing and looking out over the countryside.

  "No. I'd assumed that Isaiah was his father's eldest son."

  Ba'al'uz shook his head. "Isaiah was his father's twentieth son, and there were another eighteen after him. Thirty-eight of us, all told."

  Axis thought that with all the wives Isaiah's father must have enjoyed, it was amazing he had so few sons.

  "By what process, then, is the tyrant chosen?" he said.

  "You know the throne of Isembaard is a warrior throne?"

  "Yes, Isaiah told me as much."

  "Well, then, what better way to decide who to sit that throne than with individual combat bouts between the sons."

  Ba'al'uz turned a little so he could see Axis' face. "To the death."

  Axis could not speak for a moment. He'd battled with his brother Borneheld for Achar, and killed him,

  but to do that so many times over? Isaiah had seen thirty-six of his brothers die so he could assume the throne?

  "Why are you still alive?" Axis finally asked.

  "Me?" Ba'al'uz assumed an effeminate pose and an arch expression. "Can you imagine me with a weapon in my hand! No..." He laughed merrily. "There is a strain of madness runs through our family,

  Axis. In every generation there is one son...not quite right. Strange." He paused, then hissed, "Crazed!

  Such sons do not battle. Instead we become our successful brother's maniac. His court wit. His weapon."

  Again he laughed, and Axis could indeed hear the faint strains of madness lurking deep within Ba'al'uz'

  being.

  Genuine, or counterfeit? Axis wondered about a son who, knowing he did not have the skills to succeed in combat, might save his life by pretending madness.

  "Weapon?" Axis said.

  "A madman sees things, hears things, that no other can," said Ba'al'uz, and this time Axis thought he could recognize genuine insanity in the man's eyes.

  "He dares things," Ba'al'uz continued, "that no other can. And he knows things that no other can comprehend. Madness is a gift of the gods, Axis, and I serve my brother well. Madness is power, yes?

  Not like that which once you wielded, but power nonetheless. I have my life, and I am grateful, and I do whatever I can to smooth Isaiah's path through tyranny. I slide through my brother's court like an evil wind, and in the doing I confound his enemies and scry out their secrets."

  Axis gave an uncomfortable laugh. "What have you scried out from me, then?"

  "That you are a burned-out hero, Axis, and that Isaiah has nothing to fear from you." He grinned as he said it, and with such malevolence that Axis actually leaned back a little.

  Stars, how did Isaiah stand the man?

  He couldn't, Axis realized. Isaiah may have sent Ba'al'uz to answer any questions Axis had, but the underlying purpose of Isaiah's request was that Axis see once and for all Ba'al'uz' true nature.

  Ba'al'uz was a frighteningly dangerous man, and Axis wondered what his secret ambition was, how he meant to achieve it, and what it would mean to all about him. Maybe Isaiah hoped Axis could tell him.

  "Well, then," said Axis, "why not tell this `burned-out hero'"--he wished he had the control not to grind the words out--"the purpose of that pyramid across the river. It is most intriguing."

  "Ah," said Ba'al'uz, "DarkGlass Mountain. It is intriguing, is it not?"

  "Who built it? For what purpose?"

  "Be patient, Axis, and I shall tell you what I know." He leaned on the balcony railing again, looking at the glass pyramid. "From what anyone can gather--and my forebears spent their lives checking records--DarkGlass Mountain was built about two thousand years ago."

  "By whom?" asked Axis. The momentary antagonism between them had vanished, and Axis leaned on the railing as well, looking curiously at the massive pyramid.

  "A group of men known as the Magi caused its construction. The Magi worshipped numbers, particularly the One. The Magi were mathematical geniuses. They used the power of the One in order to build a device by which they could touch more intimately the power of the One, and, by so doing, reach out to touch Infinity. Creation. Call it what you will."

  Casual words for what made Axis' soul turn cold. Touching the power of Creation. Was there anything more powerful, or more dangerous?

  "Then, the pyramid was not known as DarkGlass Mountain," continued Ba'al'uz. "It was called Threshold."

  Threshold, thought Axis. A doorway. "Did the Magi manage it?" he said. "Did they touch Infinity?"

  Ba'al'uz' lip curled. "Yes, they did. But when DarkGlass Mountain was first opened up to the power of Infinity, something went wrong."

  Axis went even colder. Something went "wrong."

  A catastrophe, more like.

  "There was...a small rebellion, I believe," said Ba'al'uz, "initiated by those jealous of the Magi and the power they commanded. The Magi lost, and were all but slaughtered. DarkGlass Mountain was stripped of its glass, and left to be buried in sand drifts."

  "But here it stands in all its glory."

  "Yes," Ba'al'uz said very slowly. "Strange, is it not?"

  Axis waited, refusing to ask the question, and Ba'al'uz pouted and continued. "Perhaps several hundred years ago, DarkGlass Mountain regrew itself."

  "What?"

  "After the rebellion, when the Magi were slaughtered and their knowledge condemned," said Ba'al'uz,

  "DarkGlass Mountain's glass was stripped away, its chambers blocked and its capstone buried. The glass was supposed to have been broken, but it was buried instead. For a thousand years and more,

  DarkGlass Mountain sat covered in hessian and sand, a mound only. Then, one day, some of the sand slid away, and a little more the next day, until over the space of two or three years the entire structure was revealed. Stone only, for DarkGlass Mountain had yet to reclad itself in glass and capstone."

  "Someone must have been--"

  "No," Ba'al'uz said softly, his gaze fixed on DarkGlass Mountain, "the tyrant at that time set men to watching. No one came near the pyramid. It simply...regrew. Once its stone structure was uncovered,

  the blue glass began to appear, growing up from the ground, gradually covering the pyramid's sides. It flowed up from the depths of burial. Very, very slowly, but the glass flowed.

  "That process took five years to accomplish. Then the rest. The capstone, and all of DarkGlass Mountain's internal chambers."

  "Internal chambers?"

  "There are tunnels and shafts," said Ba'al'uz, "all of which lead to a central chamber of the most exquisite glass. The Infinity Chamber. You must ask Isaiah to show it to you someday. He sits there, on occasion."

  Axis shuddered. "What is it, Ba'al'uz? What is its purpose?"

  "No one knows. Isn't that amusing? Here it sits, a great beautiful glass pyramid, positively humming with power on some days, and no one knows." Ba'al'uz tapped his nose and assumed a conspiratorial look.

  "I can tell you this, Axis, because only I and Isaiah know. The tyrants, long ago when Dark-Glass Mountain regrew itself, built their palace of Aqhat here so that it would appear they used the pyramid to bolster their power. `Look at me, Great Tyrant of Isembaard, who controls the mysterious power of Dark-Glass Mountain.' But between you and me and Isaiah, Axis, none of the tyrants have known anything about the pyramid, let alone how to use it. They use it as...oh, as a piece of stage. Every so often Isaiah embarks on a great ceremonial procession across the river, strides--alone--into the Infinity Chamber,
sits there for an hour twiddling his thumbs, and then walks out again, proclaiming that he has had converse with the gods and they have shown him the way forward. Of course nothing of the sort has happened, but who is to know that? The tyrants have closely associated their throne and power with DarkGlass Mountain, and yet none of them has the faintest idea what it is!"

  Ba'al'uz burst into a peal of laughter.

  "How is it Lister also controls the power of the pyramids?" Axis said.

  Now Axis had caught Ba'al'uz off balance. "What?"

  "The glass pyramids that Lister gave Isaiah and yourself. They are powerful treasures, are they not?

  Perhaps Lister knows some of the secrets of the DarkGlass Mountain. Secrets that you have not yet learned."

  Ba'al'uz frowned. "No. Surely not. Lister said he found them."

  Axis laughed softly, disbelievingly, and Ba'al'uz flushed.

  "He said he found them!"

  "And you believed him. The Lord of the Skraelings. No wonder Isaiah needs my advice. Perhaps he and DarkGlass Mountain are in league, eh? Perhaps they spy on you with those pyramids, yes?"

  "No. Lister knows nothing about DarkGlass Mountain. Nothing. It does not speak to him."

  Oh, there was a question there begging to be asked, but Axis did not think Ba'al'uz was aware of his slip, and he thought it best not to alert the maniac.

  "How did Isaiah and Lister come to ally?" Axis said smoothly, leading Ba'al'uz away from what he'd just revealed. "I cannot imagine they met in a tavern, or on a chance walk along the riverbank."

  "Lister approached Isaiah two years ago," said Ba'al'uz, his eyes narrowed, trying to work out how Axis had suddenly assumed the lead in the conversation. "A whispered word from a shadowed envoy. You were a king, you must know how these things work."

  Axis shrugged. "And then Lister sent the pyramids to you."

  "Yes," Ba'al'uz said slowly, then added a trifle hastily, "We don't trust him, you know."

  "Good," said Axis, "for I doubt very much he is to be trusted. Now, the sun grows hot, and I am somewhat wearied of the view of DarkGlass Mountain. Shall we go to Isaiah?"

  Ba'al'uz nodded. Reluctantly, and with a final glance at DarkGlass Mountain, he led Axis toward Isaiah's private apartments.