To mount the ramp.
He will find his destiny. It must be here. The echo will come back to him. It will complete the lesson that was intended for him and no other. Fate has called him this far. It cannot have been a trick. Not with the name so close to revelation.
The ramp is not stone. It is bone, and the marrow of compressed echoes. Whispers move under his feet. For the first time in his life, Tsi Rekh knows fear untouched by the conviction of faith. He fears punishment but he walks on. He reaches the entrance to the lodge. He must not pause.
He crosses the threshold.
The echo is here. It is massive. It strikes. It uses all of his senses to speak at last the full measure of the name.
The hum. The choir. The stutter. The wail.
And the constriction, serpent strong. Lllllllllllllllllllllll...
The name is taking Tsi Rekh in its claws.
MADAIL.
MADAIL.
MADAIL.
Carving him open. Revelation yes, knowledge yes, truth yes, all claws, all teeth, all pain.
Wonder of destiny. Agony of fate.
He will be the passage. He will be the way.
Vision returns, and he is on the ground outside the lodge, Ghehashren standing over him. The parting of the beak and jaw, that smile of darkness. The gaze of all the eyes.
The prophet speaks. No thunder. A whisper using the returned echo, knowledge shared by the two of them alone. 'You understand?'
Tsi Rekh nods. The full sweep of the glory that awaits still unfolding in his mind. The destruction he will wreak. The name he will serve.
MADAIL.
'I will be the passage,' he whispers, throat bleeding.
'One more gift,' Ghehashren says, and speaks two names. They are death, rattle and hiss. They await at the end of the path.
Pandorax.
Pythos.
Sedition's Gate - Nick Kyme & Chris Wraight Page 13
