The Unwaba Revelations: Part Three of the GameWorld Trilogy

by Samit Basu

  ‘We have no heroes,’ yelled the Dagger. ‘He forgot the heroes! Get me a hero or we’re all dead!’

  Orpi raced up, her eyes flashing, covering in blood and slime. ‘You’re our last hope,’ said Amloki. ‘I know you’re a hero, Orpi, put your hand on the mirror.’ Orpi nodded, her face flushed, and touched the mirror. She gave it a look of such sternness that its heart, if it had one, broke into a thousand pieces, but to no avail. More tentacles appeared on the deck. The Duck began to rise and tilt slowly as the kraken rose under it.

  Just as the Dagger was about to abandon the slowly sliding mirror and launch himself off the ship on to the kraken in a desperate attempt to find its heart and kill it, a tentacle slammed down on the Berth Beast’s trunk, smashing it. The Berth Beast leaped out, landing lightly on the deck, looking for a fight, and everyone around him felt their spirits soar in joy and hope. The Dagger laughed aloud, realizing exactly why Mantric had kept the nature of the Beast hidden. Had they known the true nature of Mantric’s protector, the gods might have been too scared to meet them. It was clear that Mantric had given more thought to returning home safely than to actually pleasing the gods; this raised the Dagger’s already elevated opinion of his old friend to heavenly altitudes. He gazed adoringly at the monster that had cost him nights of sleep.

  The Berth Beast’s muscles were taut and lean. His eyes shone bright and fierce. His stride was the rolling, casual walk of a world-conquering emperor. His teeth were white and deadly. His ears were long, his nose was moist, and his name was Bunz.

  Steel-Bunz.

  Steel-Bunz raced across the Duck’s deck, nipping a tentacle here, dodging a falling beam there, until he reached the Mirror of Icelosis. He looked at it scornfully. Only a true hero could transform it into a portal, as used by the Seven Heroes of Kol? He touched it once with his whiskers, and immediately dark, inky clouds began to spread across its surface. Steel-Bunz looked at the mirror sharply, and the portal opened faster; the mirror seemed to shudder. The Dagger, almost crying with relief, dragged Mantric to the portal and pushed him through it, to Kol and safety.

  Through the next few frantic minutes, the Dagger and Telu-yeti stood by the Mirror of Icelosis, helping Fujen’s crew cross, as Steel-Bunz took care of any tentacles that tried anything funny. Around them, the ocean and sky raged wildly, with waves taller than the Duck crashing against its sides. The kraken had already demolished the rear end of the Duck; now its wounded sea serpent head reared up over the figurehead, and snapped the living wood off with one ferocious bite. Its unimaginably vast, scaly tail swirled in the air high above the ship, snapping its remaining masts and rigging, ripping the remnants of its sails. But on the foredeck, Jen’s pirates dived gratefully through Icelosis’ mirror. Now only four of the Duck’s crew remained.

  ‘Time to go, Jen,’ said the Dagger, wiping his forehead, which seemed to have grown a crown of scales. ‘We can tickle it before we leave, if you like.’

  Fujen did not move or smile. She stood as if petrified, staring at the monstrous serpent-head chewing her beautiful figurehead.

  ‘Thank you Amloki,’ said Fujen quietly. ‘Thank you for bringing me on this adventure, from the bottom of my heart.’

  ‘Thank me later,’ said the Dagger. ‘Is everyone through? Telu-yeti! Move, move!’

  Telu-yeti stopped ripping suckers out of a tentacle, roared and raced towards the mirror, pausing occasionally to stomp on various slithering objects.

  ‘I have sailed the seven seas, and seen many wonders,’ said Fujen. ‘But now, after this, I can truly say I lived a full life. That I meant something. That I stood for something greater than myself.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ panted the Dagger, extracting himself from a sucker’s sticky embrace with practiced ease. ‘Now move, damn it!’

  ‘I will not leave my ship,’ said Fujen.

  The Dagger paused, startled, and saw that Fujen’s eyes were glowing white, and her body was unnaturally rigid.

  ‘Well, technically, it’s the Civilian’s ship,’ he said, but Fujen wasn’t listening.

  ‘The gods speak to me,’ said Fujen in a strange, distant voice. ‘They remind me that the captain goes down with the ship. That is how the story has to end.’

  ‘Mmfm!’ said Telu-yeti beseechingly, but Fujen shook her head, walked forward and planted her feet firmly on deck, looking the rampaging kraken in its one good eye. She drew her cutlass in a touching gesture of mortal defiance and pointed it at the monster.

  The Dagger pushed Telu-yeti through the mirror. Steel-Bunz prowled ceaselessly at his feet, undaunted by the writhing mass of tentacles slithering towards them from every direction. The decks were completely covered now in slime and advancing suckers, bloated and obscene. A strange light shone down on Fujen. The Dagger, too, heard voices whispering inside his head. You have fought well, little one, they said. It is time to rest now. Time to sleep. You are a doughty little warrior, but even you must eventually tire.

  The Duck’s deck cracked, and boards flew everywhere. Slimy fingers of doom rose though splintering wood. The kraken had coiled itself around the Duck now, and lifted it in mid-air. The mirror tottered, and would have fallen and broken, but the Dagger steadied it just in time.

  Your journey ends here, said the gods. You have pleased us. We will make you a star.

  The Silver Dagger considered the voices in his head. Then he laughed and made a very rude gesture skywards.

  ‘Hey, Fujen,’ he called. She looked at him dreamily. The kraken’s head moved towards her, very slowly. A mouth the size of an island opened slowly, filling the air with noxious fumes.

  ‘Nice knowing you,’ said Amloki. ‘Goodbye. Don’t worry about Orpi, she’s in good hands. Incredible hands, in fact.’

  He winked lecherously. ‘Or you could come along too,’ he smirked, and leaped through the mirror.

  Silvery streaks were beginning to appear on the mirror’s surface. Steel-Bunz banished them with a quick snuffle. He looked enquiringly at Fujen, whose face was beginning to turn red. The light in her eyes had gone out, and she looked extremely indignant. She turned, as if waking from a dream, and saw the kraken’s fangs inches from her face. She vaulted backwards acrobatically a second before its jaws snapped shut.

  The kraken moaned and pulled, and the Duck of Destiny split in half. The mirror fell over and slid down towards a tentacle. Fujen picked up Steel-Bunz in one hand, tearing him off a sucker he was violating, and slid down the steeply sloping deck towards the mirror, cut off the tentacle that had gone through it, and slid through the mirror herself a second before another tentacle crashed down on it, picked it up and tossed it neatly into the kraken’s gaping, slobbering squid-mouth.

  Petah-Petyi’s dice spin, sparks flying through space and time, and stop. She looks at their upturned faces. One million apiece. She smiles.

  Zivran claps his hands and the world ends, in a great wave of magic that runs from the falling Vertical Sea and roars its way northwards and landwards, changing everything it touches forever, keeping everything it touches unchanged.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The unwaba clambered on to Kirin’s face and he woke up with a start. Beside him, Maya stirred and mumbled.

  ‘It is time,’ said the unwaba.

  ‘What time is it?’ asked Kirin blearily.

  ‘It is time for you to die, as per our agreement,’ said the unwaba. ‘The world has ended, and a new world has begun. The gods have been defeated. A price has to be paid.’

  Kirin sat up. ‘We’re on another world now?’

  ‘Yes. Far away from the Game. A drifting world, in a hidden space, out of the sight of the gods. Everything has changed.’

  ‘Are you serious? The world ended? We were moved to the new one? What happened? I didn’t feel anything.’

  ‘Zivran was not aware that your feelings were an essential part of the process. The children of this world did not notice the shift; some had headaches, some strange dreams and others indigestion, but nothin
g significant enough to indicate the importance of the event that they had been a part of. If you want to be moved back to the old world to experience dislocation fully and be eaten by zombies, let me know. Maya will wake up if we speak further, so unless that is your will, we will have this discussion later. I will now wait outside while you say goodbye. Bring the Infinite Infant with you when you are done.’

  The unwaba jumped off Kirin with surprising alacrity and waddled out of the hut.

  A few minutes later, Kirin walked out of the hut, carrying the Baby of Destiny, his face completely expressionless apart from a certain tightness about the jaw.

  ‘You did not say anything to her,’ said the unwaba. ‘Why?’

  ‘That has nothing to do with you,’ said Kirin. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘You may choose the manner of your own death, as long as you do suggest something clever, such as dying of old age eventually. How would you like to die?’

  ‘I need to know how we were saved. And I would like some proof that this really is a new world.’

  ‘Let us deal with your proof first. Do you see that tree over there?’

  Kirin did.

  ‘Now close your eyes and imagine you are standing under it.’

  Kirin did. When he opened his eyes, he was standing under the tree.

  ‘You are now able to teleport. Did you have this power in the old world?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, then. The nature of magic itself has altered; every being in this world that uses magic will find their powers altered. You are no longer able to throw lightning from your finger, by the way, which reduces your options of ways to die by one. Is that proof enough for you?’

  It was.

  ‘Now, let us come to how the world was saved. An interesting story. When we went on our little trip to the heavens, you might have noticed that I stayed behind. Only to find myself embroiled in a most fascinating conspiracy; Zivran, Petah-Petyi, the Goddess of Chance, and Stochastos the chaos-lord, unlikeliest of allies, were all secretly trying to save the world, and found my well-planned arrival most useful. I brought the Baby of Destiny to this plane, telling you whatever you needed to hear, while Zivran created the new world – this world. Mantric and the Silver Dagger sailed to the edge of the Vertical Sea to meet the gods, and Zivran and Stochastos, working together and using Mantric as a mouthpiece, managed to whisk this world away right under the gods’ noses, and the Baby of Destiny with it. A resounding victory in every way. And we agreed that should we ever be found out, you would be blamed for everything, and to eliminate any consequences, you would have to die to save the world. The happiest of endings, and the happiest of beginnings.’

  ‘Zivran was on our side? He hid his feelings well.’

  ‘Well, you could hardly expect him to share his true intentions with you. After all, you are all still lowly creations. Besides, he needed to test you constantly to see if you were worthy of his love. You did well, Kirin.’

  ‘But all that didn’t really matter, did it? In the end, the gods saved the world from other gods, and people who didn’t know the world was supposed to end have no idea anything happened. And that’s everyone except us, and we had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Not at all. You all ran around in a most wholesomely entertaining manner, and pleased us greatly. Besides, you took me where I needed to go, thus rendering yourselves extremely significant.’

  ‘And our world is god-free now?’

  ‘No. The Infinite Infant has been given this world, and has made it invisible to other gods. But Zivran knows where the Infant is; well, he does not know, but he senses her presence, feels traces of her power from far away. She is the only link between this world and anything else.’

  ‘What if another race like the ravians find the world and decide to invade it?’

  ‘They will be destroyed, just as New Asroye has been destroyed by the vamans. This world is as resilient as its predecessor.’

  Kirin took a while to absorb this. Visions of Asroye as he remembered it from his lost childhood floated before his eyes. He looked away, shaking his head.

  ‘Since you do not seem to have anything to say, let me tell you a few things; I would like you to die as well-informed as possible,’ said the unwaba. ‘Let me tell you how a few stories will proceed. The ravians will have to sue for peace. They will have to become a woodland people, nomadic, mysterious, ever afraid, seeking allies to help them regain their former glory. They must not be allowed to create any more portals to other worlds; this could let the gods in. I will make sure the vamans, the rakshases and even the ravians see portal-building as an unforgivable crime. The rest of the world will have to get used to the fact that the ravians are here to stay, that they are a part of the world and have been since the first ravian arrived not long ago and was eaten by the Great Rakshas himself.

  ‘Great men and women have been lost forever, but their deeds live on, and will inspire others to rise to succeed them. This world has more than its fair share of greathearts and emperors in waiting; Aciram lives still, as does Zibeb, as do the four rulers of the vamans and the untested imperial houses of Xi’en. Those childhood sweethearts, the Chief Civilian and the Sultan of Artaxerxia have survived this war, against all odds. Rukmini of Durg has seen the world around her with new eyes, and will rise to greatness. And the wars birthed new legends and new heroes. The days ahead are full of doubt and promise. No one could ask for less or more.

  ‘The world itself has changed and changed forever. The undead are gone; what will happen to those who die on this world I do not know. This is not the world as you knew it, which makes sense, since it is not the same world. Shifts of such significance cannot occur without certain errors; some living creatures have been left behind on the old world, and are lost to us. Other creatures have been spawned by the change; it is in these murky boundaries, beyond even my sight, that the future of this world will be defined. Some lands have shifted, others have disappeared, in places where magic held the elements together. More importantly, this world has no Vertical Sea; soon some brave explorer will discover the south and its denizens, and everything will change yet again. Exciting times, young Kirin. Interesting times. I am delighted to be here, and to know that all this is mine.’

  ‘I thought this world belonged to the Baby of Destiny and you were just here to take care of her.’

  ‘Of course. This world is hers. I merely rule it in her name until she comes of age.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Is there anything else you wish to learn?’

  ‘Many things.’

  ‘If you were thinking of prolonging your life with endless stream of questions, abandon the idea. I am so much cleverer than you.’

  ‘That is true. But tell me, unwaba, how has this world changed you and your powers? Are you still omniscient?’

  ‘No, alas. Zivran and the others decided it would be dangerous to allow me the whole range of godlike powers, given my proximity to the Infinite Infant in her, well, infancy. So I retain my physical limitations even on this world. But since my responsibilities now exceed those of most gods, I am now bound to forget. The future, I have to admit, is largely hidden from me, though I know most of it already, simple because of history’s cyclical nature. My mastery over past and present I retain.’

  ‘Completely?’

  ‘Almost completely.’

  ‘Just as I feared.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You don’t know everything any more. What if this world is not as well hidden as you think? What if the ravians have made another portal somewhere?’

  The unwaba looked both startled and confused, a difficult feat for a chameleon.

  ‘You are right, Kirin, and I have made a mistake, which is almost an entirely new experience for me. Ignorance! Confusion! How annoying! How charming! The ravians did not have the blood they needed to create more portals, but the ravian portal at the Desolate Gard, where I met Maya, might still be open. Yes, we ar
e not completely free yet. Zivran left a way in, the cunning old stoat.’

  ‘In that case, I want go and make sure this portal is closed. I wish to seal this world’s borders before I die.’

  ‘That is an excellent idea, and I should have thought of it myself. Get the Baby of Destiny a basket or something, and summon your chariot. This will give us a chance to spend a few more days together, and you will be able to marvel at the vaman tunnels and the magnificence of Vrihataranya once again before you die. How pleasant for you.’

  * * *

  A large earthen bubble rose out of the floor of a vast cavern in the Desolate Gard, and a cluster of stalagmites that had rested in state on that particular part of the cave floor for centuries rose on it, and then splintered and scattered as the bubble popped open, and Kirin stepped out of the Chariot of Vul. The unwaba sat on his shoulder, looking bored, and the Baby of Destiny hovered behind them in a basket of reeds.

  It took Kirin just a second to realize that something was terribly wrong in the Desolate Gard. The air was thick and heavy with dust and the stench of death. The cavern’s walls were stained with blood, and in the distance he could see fallen bodies, human bodies, adults and children, their limbs splayed out at odd angles. He tensed, and cursed aloud when he realized that he had, as usual, forgotten to bring a weapon.

  But Kirin was never defenceless; the shattered stalagmites rose in the air and began to revolve around them in elliptical orbits as Kirin walked westwards, guided by the unwaba towards the portal of the Desolate Gard, his footsteps echoing ominously. Falling water somewhere in the distance played a chorus of hollow, moist, sinister noises that did nothing to alleviate his growing sense of dread.

  He passed through a few caverns, encountering no signs of life, passing several dead humans in various stages of decomposition and a few mangled animal carcasses. He could see, to the west, a glowing white light. ‘The portal is open,’ whispered the unwaba. ‘My sight is clouded. I sense danger. Leave me and the Infant here, Kirin; I have no wish to share your death.’