“But what about the other path?” Hugo asked.
Lashé’s face fell. “That path has been wisely disregarded by your predecessors, and you should do the same. That path represents the decision to give away your free will to the light. You give away your ability to choose, to govern, and to do nothing. If this happened, the light would destroy the darkness. But this is folly! Light cannot exist without darkness! The world would fall apart at the seams. No, Hugo. That path is not for you. The only path upon which there can be true balance is the one that I have already explained.”
Hugo glanced automatically at Lashé’s chest, looking for the telltale wave of light that would assure him of the truthfulness of Lashé’s words, but of course there was none. The truemeat had worn off. They were in the real world again. Lashé smiled at him, and he smiled back. A nagging voice in his head whispered that he had saved the most important part of the conversation until it was too late.
“Wait a minute,” he said. He turned and reached for another piece of truemeat and stopped.
There was none left. That was odd. He could have sworn there was more than one fruit earlier.
“Come, Hugo,” Lashé said. “I’ve taught you what you need to know. Stop resisting Molad and he’ll stop resisting you. Let light and darkness flow through you equally. They will balance themselves out. Keep being the watcher. Watch everything work itself out. Free yourself. Try it now.”
With that, he stepped off the edge of the cliff and floated gracefully to the ground. From far below, he waved for Hugo to join him.
Hugo reached for his power and found Molad there, waiting with it. They merged in that moment, and moved as one, and a second later Hugo slipped out of the light to stand beside Lashé.
Lashé patted him on the back. “Well done. And speaking of freeing, I do believe the time has come for us to break out of this prison. Let’s go finish preparations, and then I’ll explain the plan to you.”
“You have a plan?” Hugo said.
“Of course I have a plan! As I said, I’ve been preparing for years, just waiting for my opportunity, my edge, you see. And here you are.”
“We’re your edge?” Hugo said.
Lashé nodded. “Oh, yes,” he said. “There is a part of the plan I cannot do myself. You’ll see. I needed you, Hugo, and now you are here.”
Hugo nodded, following along, but his mind was still reeling from the changes that had taken place in a short amount of time. First off, there was an unnerving lack of opposition from Molad. Secondly, they had a real plan. Albeit, a plan he did not make, to escape a prison that he did not understand. And Lashé was assuring him that it would just all work out.
It felt too easy. He wasn’t ready for this. He shut his eyes for a moment and locked Molad away again.
Why? Molad said. For once there was no malice in his voice. He sounded wounded.
Because I don’t believe you. I don’t believe him.
Will you not believe the truth? Molad said.
No, Hugo replied stubbornly. Not this.
You will have to, in the end. Molad said.
Maybe so, Hugo said. But we’re not there yet…I still have time.
Chapter Sixteen
In which Brinley gets more than she bargained for
Brinley passed out of space and time and memory. Her own mind felt like a stranger—friendly, but unfamiliar, bereft of meaning. The only thing that was real to her was the feel of her mage’s hand inside her own, and the knowledge that she was bringing him home. She couldn’t remember where home was, or precisely what home was, but it didn’t matter. She was taking him there.
Time passed. Or perhaps it did not; it was hard to tell. She felt as if she had found the center of time itself and learned that it was but a single gleaming moment, rolling onward through the void, forever meeting her with an enthusiasm for life that dared her to reciprocate.
She wanted to, but life had little meaning here. Soon she could no longer remember the difference between life and death. On and off. Full and empty. One was one way, she knew, and the other was the other, but she could not remember which was which, or what the point of it all was.
But she still knew her child. She still knew her role as his mother—to bring him home. To love him beyond the bounds of logic or fate, until that love drew him back to the place that he had started from so long ago, in the days beyond remembering.
She woke upon a golden bed to the purring of a cat in her ear. It was the Swelter Cat, she thought. No other cat could be so warm. She opened her eyes and saw Tobias. There were two men, also. One was well dressed, with a sharp suit and a bowler hat and white formal gloves that gripped a shiny silver-handled cane. The other wore sturdy leather boots, jeans, a T-shirt, and a funny polyester jacket that didn’t fit into this world. Both of them were smiling at her.
A second later, her mind started working again and tears filled her eyes.
“Dad!” she cried. “Archibald! You’re alive. You’re both alive!”
She tried to hug them both at once, but had to take it in turns. Her father picked her up and spun her around so high that her feet nearly knocked Archibald’s hat off.
“Where are we?” she asked as he put her down. They were standing on a long plain of bright white, but she could not see the edge of it. It might have been the top of Cyus’s pyramid, or it might have been heaven.
“You are alive, aren’t you? We didn’t all die, did we?” Suddenly the memories of her last sane moments came hurtling back into her mind, and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Unda!” she exclaimed. “Lignumis! Oh, I jumped into the void!”
Her father gave a bark of laughter that made her jump. She had forgotten that he did that. How could she have forgotten?
“You sure did, Brin. It’s okay, though. Cyus thought it was impressive, and it didn’t take him too long to find you.”
“Quite right,” Archibald said. “Brought you out in no time, just like us. Good thing, too,” he said with a shiver. “I didn’t like it in there one bit. I do believe I nearly lost myself.”
“Not me,” her father said, rubbing his nose. “I thought it was relaxing.”
“Strange,” a voice said. “That is not how I would have described your mood when I found you.”
Brinley spun around. There, standing beside the golden bed that she had been lying on, was one of the most beautiful people she had ever seen. He reminded her of the gods of Aberdeen, the man and woman whom she had seen in the lightfall. His features were so similar, in fact, that the longer she looked at him the surer she was that they must be related.
“Yes,” he said. “I perceive that you have guessed my family tree. My name is Cyus. Elyus is my brother, and I believe you know his wife, Sevain, as well.”
She searched for something appropriate to say to this, but couldn’t think of what it was, so she settled on something simple. “Thank you for bringing us out.”
He shook his head. “The honor is mine, Magemother.” To her surprise he gave her a little bow. “Brinley, in your child’s time of need, you entered a place in which nothing can exist, and yet you retained your motherhood. Your name and your needs, your hopes and your memories, all of these were lost, yet you did not cease to be. There was no place to go, no knowledge of where you had come from, and yet your course was sure. You were a mother taking her child home, and in that regard, your mission is finished.”
“Where is he?” She searched their faces, turning from one man to the next.
“Unda is dead,” Cyus said finally. “He has…”
“Gone home,” Brinley finished, feeling a sudden rush of emotion. “Yes. I remember. Will he be all right there?”
“Oh, yes,” Cyus said, folding his hands and rocking back on his heels. “I think so.”
She swallowed, letting it sink in. He was gone.
“But,” she began a moment later, turning her thoughts back to Cyus. “What are you doing down here, beneath everything? Why aren’t you up there
with them? And how did you save my father? And Archibald? And me?”
“So many questions.” Cyus sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand in his. He smiled at her. “I pulled you and Archibald and your father out of the void because I did not wish to see you perish. I was able to do so because it is a place that I frequently go. You may have seen hatches in the floor of Inveress on your journey here. They give me access to the place between this world and Aberdeen. The place between all worlds, in fact. Among other things, such access allows me to stop time and move through space instantly, both things that are necessary to my work here in Inveress. I can tell you more about that later, if you like.”
Brinley nodded. She caught her father’s eye and smiled at him. “Thank you for saving my dad,” she said. “And Archibald.” She leaned back, resting her hands on the bed, strangely at peace in the silence. Then she looked up at Cyus and found him smiling at her.
“Speaking of your father and Archibald,” Cyus said. “I do believe they have something they wish to discuss with you.”
“Really? What?”
“It’s about your mother,” Archibald said hastily. “And myself.” He fiddled with the handle of his cane unconsciously as he struggled to find the right words. “Well, you see, the fact of the matter is…” He cleared his throat. “What happened was…well…”
Her dad clapped a strong hand on her shoulder and bent down to look her in the eye. “Brin,” he said, pointing his thumb at Archibald, “what Archibald is trying to say, is that he is your real father.”
Brinley stared at him. Her mouth fell open, and her dad closed it and rubbed her chin.
“Don’t be so surprised. You must have known you had another father somewhere. Archibald was married to the Magemother before you, and you are their daughter.”
She looked from her dad, strong and confident, to Archibald, who was now wringing his bowler hat (she doubted it would recover from this treatment) in a very uncharacteristic show of nerves. She didn’t know what to think. She should feel something, she knew, but she just didn’t. She should be surprised, shouldn’t she? But somehow she did not feel surprised at all.
Her father pulled her into a hug and patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to the idea in time,” he said.
Finally, Archibald found his voice. “I know that I could never replace your father—and I wouldn’t want to, of course—but you must know that I never meant to lose you. And despite appearances, I have been lost without you and your mother these long years.”
Brinley blinked rapidly against a stinging in her eyes and realized that she was crying. Her father nudged her (quite hard) in the back, so that she fell forward, and Archibald caught her. Before they knew it, they were hugging. Then, in a final spasm of nerves, he dropped his hat. Brinley bent down and put it on her own head as she stood back up, and they all laughed.
“Come,” Cyus said. “I will show you Inveress, and then you can ask me what you came to ask me.”
***
“All things which happen must be recorded,” Cyus was saying. “And I am the recorder.”
He had led them to the very center of the topmost level of the pyramid, where there was a wide gold platform lined with row after row of bookshelves.
“Every person has a book,” he said, “And every day of every person’s life has a page.”
“A whole page for every person each day?” Brinley asked in shock. “And you write all of this down? How is that possible?”
“Like this,” he said, and he waved his hand at the floor. The scene beneath them in Aberdeen froze. There had been a boy walking with a basket of fish, but now he stood still. Cyus drew his hand horizontally across the air in front of him, and the boy began to walk backwards. Then Cyus waved his hand again and the boy returned to the place that he had been before and resumed his walk.
“I watch every person, each day, one at a time, and make notes about the important things they do and say. Then I go back to the beginning of the day and start over with someone else.”
“Every person?” Brinley said incredulously. “Me and Cannon and Tabitha? And the king too?”
Cyus laughed and slapped his leg. “Tabitha!” he cried. “Yes. She is one of my favorites. My job would be more interesting if there were more Tabithas in the world.”
“But that must take hundreds of years to get through a single day,” Brinley said.
“Thousands,” Cyus corrected. “A day is a very long time for me.”
“Just a moment,” Archibald said. He removed his hat and scratched his head. “If you go back at the end of each day and relive that same day for thousands of years, don’t they all—that is to say, don’t we all just go marching on through time without you? I mean to say, don’t you get left behind?”
Cyus patted Archibald on the arm in a placating manner. “Now, now, my friend,” he said. “Don’t go making time into something that you can line up neatly in a row like that. You’ll get things all mixed up.”
To Brinley he said, “Do you have any more questions to ask of me?”
“How did you get to be here?” she said. “Is it a great honor, as one of the gods, to be the record keeper?”
Cyus laughed. “Quite the opposite, actually.” He stuck his thumb out at the Swelter Cat, who was sitting quietly behind them. “It was Tobias’s job before I took it over.”
Brinley gasped. “But why? Why did you do it?”
Cyus sighed. He swept his hands through the air before him and the whole of Aberdeen spun beneath their feet until they were in the center of Ninebridge.
“The Bridge to Nowhere,” he said, walking them over to it. “Do you know where it led before it was broken?”
Brinley shook her head, and Archibald made a small excited sound in his throat. No doubt he was excited to hear the answer to such a mystery. As far as Brinley knew, the bridges of Aberdeen were older than anyone alive. No one knew where they came from. It was widely assumed that they had been built when the gods created the world.
“It led to heaven,” Cyus said.
Brinley blinked in surprise. “Heaven?”
“Yes. My realm. Home of the creators of this world—Elyus, Sevain, myself, and all our kin. We built the bridge so that those who were able, those who desired to know us and learn our ways, could reach us. Occasionally, we would even come into Aberdeen and visit. But that was long ago. Before the Janrax.”
“Was he really that old?” Brinley asked.
“Oh, yes,” Cyus said. “He was the oldest soul alive until Tobias ended his life.”
“And the most rotten,” Tobias said. “Let it not be forgotten.”
“True,” Cyus said. “He was not always like that, but that is how he will be remembered. Early in his quest for power he recognized that as long as this world was so closely connected to that of the gods, he would always seem second-rate, no matter how powerful he became—it is hard to compete with a god, you know—so he did something horrible. Something unforgiveable.”
“He broke the Bridge to Heaven,” Brinley finished.
“He did,” Cyus agreed.
“Then he has power over the bridges?” Brinley asked. “Is he the one who has been letting people into Aberdeen from the Ire?”
Cyus nodded.
“Why didn’t he just break the barrier completely, if he was so powerful?” Brinley asked.
Cyus frowned. “He was not so powerful. Not anymore, at least. My brother stripped him of his power and his name after he broke the Bridge to Heaven. He did not work any magic for a long time after that. I am surprised that he managed to find a way to circumvent the barrier at all, actually.”
“But what about Shael?” Archibald said. “Surely he will have told Shael how to do it.”
Cyus sighed. “I am afraid that I cannot tell you about everything I see. Providing mortals with omniscience is beyond the scope of my role as the observer. However, I can confirm that your reasoning is logical.
“The Janrax
would have had ample opportunity to feed Shael information during his long imprisonment, and once freed, Shael will have little difficulty in breaking the barrier. Especially from his side.”
“Then we mustn’t be there when he does,” Brinley said.
Cyus nodded. “We will get to that. Let me finish my story first, and I think you will understand better what must be done.”
Brinley leaned against her dad and prepared to listen, and he put an arm around her.
“I was the one in charge of watching over the Bridge to Heaven in the first place,” Cyus continued. “It was my responsibility, and when the Janrax destroyed it, I failed.”
“So they banished you here?” Brinley asked in disgust. “Why didn’t they just rebuild it?”
“We do not give back right away the gifts which people destroy,” he said. “And no, I was not banished. Or rather, I banished myself here.”
“Why?”
“To teach myself a lesson, and to teach this world a lesson. The world needed to learn that the gods are always watching, always interested in them, no matter how disinterested they become in us.”
“What about your lesson?” Brinley said. “Have you learned it yet?”
He smiled. “Nearly. And I think you may be able to help me. I think that we may be able to help each other.”
“Because of my plan?” Brinley said.
Cyus nodded. “It is a good plan. I will be honored to harbor the inhabitants of the world for you while you fight your battle. Doing such a favor for the world will help to restore my honor.”
“In your brother’s eyes or your own?” Brinley asked, but Cyus only smiled in response.
A moment later, he changed the subject. “As you know,” he said, “I cannot send you back to Aberdeen, let alone the entire population of the world. And you cannot take the bridge back. As you probably discovered earlier, it only works one way.”
“Cannot send us back?” Archibald asked. “Or will not?”
Cyus nodded. “Cannot. I am not empowered to interfere in any way in the lives of those that I observe. I only watch and record what I see. The only reason that I can help Brinley is because I do not actually have to do anything at all. They will come into Inveress of their own accord. I cannot stop them. But they must also leave under their own power.”
Magemother: The Complete Series (A Fantasy Adventure Book Series for Kids of All Ages) Page 76
