The Infinity Gate

by Sara Douglass

  “Do you know how to use it, how to negate it?” Axis asked.

  “Not really,” Inardle replied, and Axis made a noise of disbelief.

  “You cannot expect us to believe that!” Axis said. “You —”

  “Only those Lealfast completely indoctrinated into the highest levels of the Magi could use it properly,” Inardle said. “And among the Lealfast now living, that was only Eleanon and Bingaleal. I would help on those few occasions we used it, but that was merely a courtesy on their part. They did not truly need me, nor any of my power.”

  “You are a Magus?” Ishbel asked.

  “I have been trained in some aspects of a Magus,” Inardle said, “but never truly accepted into its brotherhood. The Magi can only be a brotherhood. Women corrupt the One by subdividing it, by carrying within them the potential to give birth . . . it is amazing that Eleanon and Bingaleal allowed me even a glimpse into the arts of the One.”

  “And they did that because .?” Axis said.

  Again she met his eyes. “Because, at times in the past, I have been the lover of both of them. There was affection and respect between us, and thus they drew me a little distance into the way of the One.”

  “Inardle,” Maximilian asked, “what can we do about this?” He waved a hand at the Dark Spire.

  “I don’t know,” she said softly, and Axis made another impatient noise.

  “The rose spires,” he said. “They were made by your people as well. Surely they can be used in some manner to understand or affect their dark brother?”

  Inardle shook her head. “They are foreign to each other, Axis. I am sorry. The rose spires are of no use against this.”

  “What exactly can this Dark Spire do?” Ishbel asked.

  “It channels the power of Infinity,” said Inardle. “This,” now it was she who waved a hand at the spire, “is like nothing I could have accomplished. This is the touch of Infinity.”

  She paused, thinking. “It is a cancer at the very heart of Elcho Falling. I do not know if it can destroy the citadel completely. But it can aid the One, and Eleanon and Bingaleal, in whatever they plan. And no,” she glanced at Axis, “I do not know what that might be.”

  “Well,” said Maximilian, “whatever that might be, I am afraid you will need to deal with it for the moment, Axis. I leave you in complete charge of Elcho Falling. You may do whatever you need to in order to ensure —”

  “I cannot believe this!” Axis said, almost shouting. “How dare you just wander off! I don’t care how important DarkGlass Mountain is . . . this, Elcho Falling, is vastly more important! Have you no sense of duty? Of responsibility? Do you think you can just walk away from this utter mess? Do you think that —”

  “Axis,” Maximilian said.

  “— you have any right to just walk away and —”

  “Axis!”

  Axis stopped, half turning away from Maximilian in his anger.

  “Axis, I am sorry, but Ishbel and I must go. We —”

  “You abandon every kingdom you inherit,” Axis said. “Escator and now Elcho Falling. The responsibility is obviously far too much for you.”

  That stung, and Maximilian flushed. Ishbel moved closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, but before she could speak she was forestalled by Georgdi who, accompanied by Insharah, had walked down the steps and now stood just behind Axis and StarDrifter.

  “I think I speak for most of the people sequestered within Elcho Falling,” Georgdi said, “when I say that we would all prefer that Axis led us through this time of crisis than Maximilian. We wish you well, Maximilian, Ishbel, but the disaster that Elcho Falling now finds itself in requires a war leader and that you are not. It is my country, the Outlands, which is overrun by armies of every ilk and by ghostly monsters now surging up from the south. You are a good man, Maximilian, but I want Axis, not you. Safe travelling.”

  Axis opened his mouth, then shut it again, not sure what to say.

  Maximilian stared at Georgdi a moment, then laughed softly. “You say it bluntly, Georgdi, but you say it well . . . as did Axis. I am not the man Elcho Falling or this land needs in this moment. That man is Axis. Elcho Falling was never a mountain of war, and its lords not trained in the arts of war or defence or strategy. Ishbel and I can close off, we hope, the main gateway into Infinity, but that may not do a damn thing to save Elcho Falling from its current crisis.”

  He smiled then, his charming, infectious smile. “I am sorry, Axis. You must rue the day that Isaiah dragged you back from the Otherworld. Hopefully he shall be here soon enough, and safely enough, for you to tell him so yourself. But . . . please, Axis, I beg you, do this, if not for me, for all those who want to live.”

  Axis rubbed a hand over his eyes, his shoulders tensing as if he tried to force all the tightness out of them.

  “And to think,” he muttered, “that I had been foolhardy enough to once thank the stars that it was not meant to be me to save everyone this time. Fool that I am, I spoke far too soon.”

  Chapter 12

  Elcho Falling

  “I am sorry, Axis,” Maximilian said. “You of all people do not need this thrust upon you. But —”

  “I am not ready to hear the ’but‘ yet,” Axis said.

  They sat alone in the command chamber, everyone else gone to snatch a few hours sleep, a meal, or to check on defences. Maximilian had left some of the Emerald Guard minding the Dark Spire; there was little else he could do about it at this stage.

  “There is no one else, Axis,” Maximilian said.

  Axis did not reply. He was staring toward the windows, his face lined with exhaustion, his skin almost grey.

  “You are the best —”

  “Don’t,” Axis said, and Maximilian sighed and studied his hands. He didn’t blame Axis for being angry, but at the same time he was growing tired of it. Axis was still furious at Inardle and was projecting that fury on to everything and everyone else.

  “I will keep in contact,” Maximilian said.

  “How?” Axis said, looking at Maximilian for the first time. “DarkGlass Mountain is far, far away. Do either of us have enough power to communicate over that distance?”

  Maximilian nodded at the window, and Axis looked that way once again. He straightened in his chair in surprise, then rose. “Who is that?”

  “Josia,” Maximilian said, walking with Axis to the window.

  Instead of space and sky beyond the balcony, there appeared another window some two or three paces away. In that window stood a young, dark-haired man.

  Josia Persimius, the soul who had inhabited the Weeper, and who now existed only within the Twisted Tower.

  “Josia,” Axis said.

  Josia made a small bow of respect from his window. “Axis SunSoar. Maxel suggested you use me as a go-between. Maxel can access the Twisted Tower from anywhere. I can speak to you from my window at the top of the tower. If you need to speak to me, just call my name and go to the nearest window.”

  “Ishbel had told me that to look from the window at the top of the Twisted Tower was death,” Axis said.

  Josia gave a small smile. “Ah, but I have already died, and have no body to die again. Such restrictions are meaningless to me.”

  “It will at least give us something,” Maximilian said, and Axis sighed, and nodded, finally willing to relent.

  “Yes. It will give us something. Thank you, Josia.”

  Josia bowed once more, and the window faded.

  “A neat trick, Maxel,” Axis said as they walked back to their chairs.

  “I have a few left, Axis,” Maximilian said.

  They sat down, and Axis rubbed at his eyes, his shoulders slumping.

  “You need to rest,” Maximilian said.

  “Thirty thousand Lealfast fighters are outside, millions of Skraelings approach and we have some dark finger of Infinity sitting in the basement. Rest?”

  “Nonetheless .”

  “What do you want me to do, Maxel? What is your point
putting me in charge? What do you want me to achieve for you?”

  “To save as many lives as you can; to keep intact as much of Elcho Falling as you can.”

  “And defeat the Lealfast and the Skraeling hordes. And the One, should he decide to pop back for a visit.”

  Maximilian risked a smile. “That would help, Axis.”

  Axis didn’t return the smile. “And how long do you expect me to hold all this together?”

  “We can reach DarkGlass Mountain quickly through Elcho Falling’s graces, but we cannot return the same way. Even Elcho Falling has its limitations. So . . . we reach DarkGlass Mountain within the day, spend, oh, perhaps a week there at most, then return the slow way via our feet, or horses, through to the east coast of Isembaard. Hopefully, there will still be vessels on the coast willing to carry us north to Elcho Falling.”

  “I will speak to Georgdi. He may be able to organise to have something waiting for you.”

  “That would be a help. Thank you.”

  They fell into silence for a few minutes. It stretched awkwardly, Axis’ continued ill-temper creating a chasm between them.

  “I know nothing about Elcho Falling,” Axis said eventually. “Nothing of its power, of its lore, of how it works. I am not its lord. How will it respond to me? How can I defend it when —”

  Maximilian nodded to a point at Axis’ side, and Axis broke off as he saw one of Elcho Falling’s servants standing there.

  “You shall not be our lord,” the servant said, “but we shall be allies, you and I. Whenever you need to speak, then I shall be here.”

  “You speak for Elcho Falling?” Axis said.

  Something crossed the servant’s face, a strange wild look. “As if I were Elcho Falling,” he said.

  Axis looked at Maximilian in astonishment, but when he looked back to the servant to speak to him, he was gone.

  “Elcho Falling will listen to you, and will offer advice if needed,” Maximilian said. “It will recognise you almost as if you were me. There may be some constraints, but I doubt they will be too restrictive.”

  “And the Dark Spire? What do you expect me to do about that? What shall I do when it grows through all of Elcho Falling?”

  “I am sorry, Axis. I do not know. I hope that when Ishbel and I manage to destroy DarkGlass Mountain, then we will either destroy the One or remove his access to the power of Infinity. Maybe, with the One gone, then the Dark Spire will fade and die, too. Maybe. If not, then we can tackle the Dark Spire together, Axis.”

  “Hope is an insubstantial thing,” Axis said, “for something of such cold dark magic as that spire.”

  “It is all I have to offer you.” Maximilian paused. “Axis, talk to Inardle. I know you think she has betrayed you —”

  Axis sent him a bleak look.

  “— but I do not think her the utter traitor that you do. She can help. I think all she wants is for you to ask her.”

  Axis grunted in dismissal.

  “Axis, she stayed here because she loves you. That’s what kept her here. Not me, not Elcho Falling. You.”

  “If she had truly loved me then she would have told me —”

  “For you to do what? React precisely as you have now? She knows you too well, Axis, but still she stayed.”

  “How many have died because of her silence?”

  “Talk to her, Axis.”

  Axis made a gesture with a hand, dismissing the subject. “Do you know how close Isaiah is?”

  “I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Isaiah travels with the Isembaardian general, Lamiah — at least we don’t have to worry about that general as we do Kezial — and, what, some hundred thousand Isembaardians. They are horribly exposed to both the Lealfast and the Skraelings.”

  “I know, Axis. I know.” Maximilian sighed. “If I could do something . . . you can’t send out some of the Strike Force?”

  “They’d be slaughtered by the Lealfast as soon as they left Elcho Falling’s protection, Maxel. I am worried that the Lealfast might turn their attention to Isaiah. And if he approaches Elcho Falling . . . how to get him and his army inside without loss of life . . . if the Skraelings have left any army to get inside, of course.”

  Axis paused. “I am trapped inside this great big bloody citadel, Maxel. I hate being trapped. I hate it.”

  To that Maximilian had nothing to say.

  It was deep night and Maximilian and Ishbel had said their farewells. They stood now with Avaldamon in a small chamber in the heart of Elcho Falling, small packs lying at their heels.

  They were not alone.

  “No,” said Maximilian, looking sternly at Serge and Doyle. The two Emerald Guardsmen, former assassins, had accompanied him on his journey from Escator into the heart of Isembaard to rescue Ishbel from Isaiah.

  That all seemed so long ago.

  “Egalion sent us,” Doyle said.

  “I had told him, no,” Maximilian said, knowing he would lose this battle as he’d lost it previously.

  “Two extra swords are always handy,” said Serge. “Well, two swords only, as I see that none of you are armed.”

  Ishbel laughed. “Oh, Maxel, let them come. I assume it will be all right, Avaldamon?”

  “Two more won’t matter,” Avaldamon said.

  Maximilian shrugged, then smiled. “I am sure I shall not be sorry to have you.”

  Then he turned to Avaldamon. “Avaldamon, how precisely does Elcho Falling transfer us? Will it eject us like it did the One and the Lealfast?”

  “No,” said Avaldamon. “Tonight we use a gentler method, one that can deliver us precisely to the place we want, if it can’t actually get us back again.”

  “I learned of this only briefly in the Twisted Tower,” Maximilian said. “Mostly I concentrated on the knowledge I needed to raise Elcho Falling.”

  “This method is just one of Elcho Falling’s lesser known abilities. All you need do, Maxel, is ask of it what you need, and it shall provide. But —”

  “Ah,” Maximilian and Ishbel said together, and Avaldamon chuckled.

  “But,” he said, “there is a small price, if you can call it that. It is a matter of balances. Elcho Falling can transfer us to DarkGlass Mountain, but it will need to transfer something back. It will need to know what you want as a counterbalance, Maxel.”

  Maximilian frowned. “What did the One counterbalance with in transferring here?”

  “He used the Dark Spire, not Elcho Falling,” Avaldamon said. “He needed no counterbalance.”

  “I need to pick something at DarkGlass Mountain? In the immediate area?”

  “Something reasonably close by, but not perhaps in the immediate area.”

  “Does it need to come directly here to Elcho Falling?” Ishbel said. “Or just somewhere ’reasonably close by‘ ?”

  “What are you thinking, Ishbel?” Maximilian said.

  “Avaldamon?” Ishbel said.

  “Reasonably close by would do it,” Avaldamon said.

  “How close is ’reasonably‘ ?” Ishbel said.

  “For the gods’ sakes,” Avaldamon said. “I don’t know what you mean!”

  “Somewhere between Elcho Falling and, say, Margalit,” Ishbel said.

  Maximilian’s mouth curved up in a slow smile. “Isaiah.”

  “Yes,” said Ishbel, returning his smile. “Isaiah. I think I have thought of a way to aid him. There is something I had heard from the Goblet of the Frogs. Something about Lake Juit.”

  She looked again at Avaldamon. “Is it possible?”

  “Yes,” he said, “I know what you want to do, and yes, it is possible. I think Elcho Falling might rather enjoy it.” Again he chuckled. “As would the inhabitants of Lake Juit.”

  “We should perhaps warn Axis, as well as Isaiah,” Ishbel said.

  “Axis can find out in his own good time,” Maximilian said, “and Isaiah . . . well . . . I am sure Isaiah has had to cope with worse surprises in his past.”

&n
bsp; “Lake Juit it shall be then,” Avaldamon said.

  “Do you think they are actually speaking a different language,” Serge remarked to Doyle, “or is it just me who cannot fathom a word of what they say?”

  Chapter 13

  Lake Juit and Aqhat

  For aeons the River Lhyl had wended its way down from the FarReach Mountains, through the lands now called Isembaard, to Lake Juit, the stretch of water in the far south of Isembaard.

  Now, of course, the river was nothing but glass, having succumbed to the One’s malevolent sorceries, but the lake itself was alive and vibrant.

  Not even the One could touch Lake Juit, if he even knew of its existence.

  Few people had ever lived near the lake. Ever since man had first come to this land, the lake had been reserved for the pleasure of, first, the Chads of Ashdod, then the Tyrants of Isembaard. A few servants lived at the beautiful royal house on its eastern shore and a few watermen trawled its surface and reed banks, but they did so only at the pleasure of the current ruler of the land, to serve his purpose.

  Mostly the lake was left to its own devices.

  It was a massive body of water, almost a world within itself. For all any Ashdodian or Isembaardian had ever known, it continued south into eternity. Chads and Tyrants too numerous to number had sent expeditions south to map the lake and to discover the lands beyond it, but somehow none of these expeditions ever returned and the curiosities of Chad and Tyrant alike had to remain unsatisfied.

  Legend had it that the far southern waters of Lake Juit tipped over a cliff at the edge of the world.

  The central portions of the lake were deep, but its shores were bordered with reed beds that stretched for hundreds if not thousands of paces into the lake. These shallows were full of mystery, and known by some to touch the borderlands of other worlds from time to time.

  The reed beds were not a place for any to travel unless they were very, very sure of what they were doing. Isaiah had used the reed beds and the lake when he hauled Axis back from the Otherworld, but Isaiah had been a powerful god then, and there were few others who could ever hope to manage such a feat.