The Infinity Gate

by Sara Douglass

  Maximilian reached down a hand to lift up one of the diagrams, then swore softly as a vibration sent it skittering just beyond finger reach.

  The Lealfast had started the second day of their encircling rhythmic march not an hour ago.

  Ishbel looked at him. Her eyes were hollow and ringed with fatigue, her skin drawn and grey. Maximilian lifted the hand he’d tried to use to pick up a diagram and cupped her face.

  “We are almost done,” he said.

  “Maxel . . . the Lealfast are going to dismember Elcho Falling if we don’t find a way to break the power of the Dark Spire.”

  “I know. Ishbel, be still. We will finish these last five levels and then we will rest.”

  “But —”

  “We will rest, Ishbel. Elcho Falling will not fall today.”

  Ishbel pressed her cheek against his hand briefly. “We have reconstructed the objects in eighty-five levels of the Twisted Tower, Maxel. There is nothing yet to help us against the Dark Spire or the One. What hope we find something on the final five levels?”

  “Ishbel —”

  “The Dark Spire is nothing our forebears could have anticipated, Maxel. We are going to find nothing. We have spent useless days here making lists, and for what? For what?”

  “Ishbel .”

  She rose, walking away. “There is nothing we can do. Nothing at all.”

  Maximilian watched her walk away. There was one last thing they could do before they had to turn their minds to what StarDancer suggested. “Ishbel?”

  She had halted by a chest. Now she turned slowly to look back at Maximilian.

  “There is one person who has successfully countered the power of Infinity,” Maximilian said.

  Ishbel frowned briefly, then her face cleared. “Boaz,” she said, naming her ancestor. “But he encountered nothing like the power of the One.”

  “Nonetheless .”

  “Nonetheless, it is worth a try.”

  Chapter 13

  Elcho Falling

  “StarDrifter and I have spent half the night talking,” Axis said to Isaiah as they hurried down the stairs toward the chambers that contained the Dark Spire.

  “We are sure,” StarDrifter said, two steps behind Axis and Isaiah, “that we can create discord with music. And bells.”

  “Bells?” Isaiah said, turning just enough to shoot a quizzical look StarDrifter’s way.

  “Bells,” said StarDrifter. “I sent out the Icarii early this morning, to the storerooms. We found a case of brass bells, all different sizes. Perfect.”

  Isaiah gave a grunt. “Elcho Falling always provides. So . . . you think you can sing our way out of this?”

  “It is a possibility,” Axis said. “All Enchanters have perfect pitch, StarDrifter the best among all of us. And we think we’ve figured out the tune and the rhythm that will counteract what the Lealfast do. You’ll need your earmuffs, though. It won’t sound good.”

  “Eleanon won’t be able to reflect it back at us?” Isaiah said. They had reached the first of the chambers where the Dark Spire had broken through, and they stopped to talk.

  “We don’t think so,” Axis said. “This is not something we’re sending ‘outside’ of Elcho Falling.”

  “Besides,” said StarDrifter, “what could be the worse thing to happen? A cacophony of discordant noise reverberating through Elcho Falling?”

  Isaiah wondered that, if combined with the vibrations the Lealfast were sending throughout Elcho Falling, such a cacophony just might be the death knell for the citadel. The previous day’s fracture lines had remained open, although masons had worked frantically overnight to close them with mortar. It had made no difference as the cement remained in place only an hour or two before crumbling and falling out of the cracks.

  “There is the One to consider, too,” Isaiah said. “Do you really want to initiate a possible confrontation with him?”

  “We need to risk it,” StarDrifter said. “Come, we have all the Enchanters in Elcho Falling waiting in the chamber below. The sooner we start .”

  He was gone, Axis after him, and Isaiah stood a moment longer, thinking, frowning.

  Isaiah hesitated another heartbeat, before he ran lightly down the stairs after them. “Axis,” he said, taking the man by the elbow just as he was sinking into the group of thirty or so enchanters gathered to one side of the Dark spire. “Axis, I’m not risking you here. Go further up into the citadel. I —”

  “Why?” Axis said.

  “Because every single damned Enchanter left in existence is now gathered in this chamber. If anything goes wrong . . . even if Eleanon does nothing, the One may act .”

  StarDrifter nodded. “Go, Axis.” Then he looked at Isaiah. “You are wrong, in that Salome and StarDancer are not here. But I take your point. It is better we do not risk Axis as well.”

  “Thank you, StarDrifter,” Isaiah said. “Axis . . . go.” He waited until Axis had, reluctantly, climbed the stairs, then Isaiah looked about the group of Enchanters. “Good luck be with you.”

  Then Isaiah, too, was gone.

  StarDrifter looked about the group. “Remember what we discussed.”

  Everyone nodded back to him.

  “ Feel the rhythm of the vibrations,” StarDrifter said.

  Many of the Enchanters closed their eyes, merging with the beat of the Lealfast feet.

  “Now take that beat,” StarDrifter said, very softly, “and destroy it.”

  As one they drew in a deep breath, held it, and began to sing. At first their voices were beautiful, merging perfectly with the vibrations sent through Elcho Falling by the encircling marching Lealfast. Some voices were soft, others strong, but together they merged to form a beautiful melody that soared from the lower chamber up the stairs and far up into Elcho Falling.

  High above, Isaiah and Axis paused, listening.

  Then the song changed, becoming ever more discordant. It was as if the Enchanters had captured the Lealfast rhythm and then warped it to their own wants. As they changed the song, so now some among the Enchanters took up their bells, and began to ring out terrible, discordant chords.

  “It sounds,” Axis murmured to Isaiah, “a little like the Dark Music of the stars.”

  “What —” Isaiah began, then groaned, bending over slightly as he put his hands to his ears.

  Axis ignored the discordant noise as best he could, bending down and putting his hand to the floor.

  The vibrations were now out of time, moving all over the place.

  Soldiers walking over a bridge, not marching.

  Eleanon stood on his rise as he had the day before, his hands clapping slowly, relentlessly, as the Lealfast Nation marched to his beat about Elcho Falling’s lake in concentric circles.

  He looked toward Elcho Falling, and his eyes glittered as he realised what the Enchanters were trying to do.

  “Don’t,” he whispered as if the Enchanters could hear him, and as he whispered, every Lealfast lifted his or her head and screamed, a high-pitched terrible sound that shot across the lake.

  The Dark Spire shrieked, taking the screams of the Lealfast and magnifying them a hundredfold. Virtually imprisoned within the chamber, the frightful sound had the force of an explosion, lifting the Icarii Enchanters from where they sat and dashing them against the walls.

  The Dark Spire held that shriek for thirty long, terrible heartbeats. When it stopped, nothing within the chamber moved. Save the faint, rhythmic vibrations across every surface.

  The One chuckled deep within the Dark Spire. He had only to wait for his opportunity; Eleanon was doing all the work for him.

  Given the Lord of Elcho Falling’s ineptitude thus far, and that of all his commanders, the One knew he would find the final challenge laughably easy.

  There was nothing anyone could do to stop him now.

  Axis almost fell down the stairs in the rush to reach the chamber. His ears rang with the terrible shriek, almost as if it still sounded, and he stumbled over and over,
his muscles trembling both with the aftereffects of the shriek and with fear.

  When he reached the chamber, Isaiah and a dozen others behind him, Axis stopped, appalled.

  Enchanters lay scattered and broken in piles of blood and feathers.

  Axis forced himself to step into the carnage. He bent time and time again, only to find that the Enchanter whose name he called softly was dead.

  Then he rolled one over, and found him still breathing.

  “Get Garth and Zeboath!” Axis yelled. “Quick!”

  “Axis,” Isaiah said, rising from the body of one of the Enchanters and Axis’ heart almost stopped at the expression in Isaiah’s face.

  Axis forced himself over to the Enchanter Isaiah stood over.

  It was his father, StarDrifter.

  “He still breathes, Axis,” Isaiah said. “Just.”

  Chapter 14

  Elcho Falling

  Inardle sat in the grass about a half day’s walk from Elcho Falling. She could clearly see it in the distance and could just pick out the circles of the Lealfast Nation around the lake.

  She had no idea what Eleanon was doing, but she did know he was making it extremely difficult for her to return to the citadel.

  Any one of those Lealfast would spot her, even in her River Angel form, if she tried to access the lake.

  Inardle could have tried to reach Axis with her mind voice, but she was afraid Eleanon would pick up the communication.

  Eleanon was too attuned to Inardle for Inardle’s own safety.

  So Inardle sat there, chin resting on her arms wrapped about her knees. Chewing her lip, wondering.

  Just after noon, she saw a shepherd and his flock of sheep passing in the near distance.

  Nine of the Enchanters had died. The others were injured to some extent, but Garth expected them all to survive.

  He drew Axis back from StarDrifter’s bed, where an anxious Salome hovered, and spoke with Axis quietly.

  “His eardrums have been damaged and also his eyes. Not permanent in either case, but your father is going to need rest and quiet for some time. As do the other Enchanters.”

  Axis nodded his thanks, appreciating Garth’s aid and words. Then he turned away, leaving the chamber. He was furiously angry. Partly at circumstance, but mostly at himself for having suggested this catastrophic plan.

  Damn it! Was there no action they could take against Eleanon? Everything he or Isaiah tried was thrown back in their faces with deadly, contemptuous ease.

  Axis paused outside his father’s door, then slowly climbed the stairs toward the command chamber.

  All about him Elcho Falling vibrated and cracked.

  Axis thought about asking Maximilian one more time about the transference idea.

  Eleanon stopped the beating of his hands before dusk and, as they had the previous day, the Lealfast filed back to their individual camps for the night. Eleanon was himself about to return to his tent when he saw, to the west, a shepherd driving his small flock of sheep toward the lake.

  Eleanon frowned, for there were few passers-by at Elcho Falling, and he moved to intercept the man.

  He was clearly frightened and fell to his knees before Eleanon.

  “Please, my lord,” the man said, “my sheep need to water and I saw this lake . . . ”

  Eleanon regarded him, trying to scry out any deception, but all he felt was sheer fright from the man.

  Ah, he was but a common shepherd, and when Eleanon was Lord of Elcho Falling, he would be a generous lord.

  “You may water your flock,” Eleanon said, “but be quick about the business.” As soon as he had finished speaking Eleanon turned away as another Lealfast called him urgently.

  The shepherd stammered his thanks, immensely grateful that Eleanon was distracted and moving off. He rose to his feet, clicking his tongue at the sheep who followed him obediently.

  The shepherd moved his flock to a spot halfway between two of the Lealfast camps, and the sheep lined the shore, some falling to their knees in order to drink. The shepherd unclipped the drinking flask he had at his belt, unstoppered it, and leaned down to the water.

  Inardle flowed out of the flask and into the water, silently thanking the shepherd — who was truly nothing like the stammering fool he’d appeared to Eleanon, but rather a courageous Outlander keen to aid Georgdi and the Lord of Elcho Falling.

  She moved swiftly, anxious to escape any detection, sliding through the calm waters about the southern walls of Elcho Falling. Her way was clear for the moment, but Inardle wondered how long it would remain that way: the black roots of the Dark Spire now filled almost the entire lower half of the lake, lying there coiled and waiting.

  Inardle reached the entrance to the tunnel and moved up it, only to find that partway through, her progress was hindered by debris.

  Nonetheless, there were tiny spaces between the rocks and masonry that had fallen when the Dark Spire had pushed its way through this chamber in its journey upward, and Inardle managed to find her way through.

  When she emerged into what was left of the chamber that had held the pool, it was to find the space almost filled with the bulk of the Dark Spire.

  Inardle stood still a moment, once more in her Lealfast form, pressed against the wall, the spire not an arm’s length distance from her.

  The spire was looking more and more like Elcho Falling, with clearly defined windows and doors, and many balconies and turrets.

  Axis sensed Inardle the instant she’d moved past the Dark Spire. He was in the command chamber with Isaiah and Maximilian — Maximilian had been telling them how he and Ishbel meant to untether the Twisted Tower — when he jumped up from his seat.

  “Inardle is back,” he said, then he was out the chamber and running down the stairs to meet her.

  “You’re back,” he said.

  She grinned. “Obviously.”

  “What news?”

  “Not much . . . but I need to tell it. Is Maximilian . . . ?”

  “In the command chamber. Come.”

  They started to climb, Inardle looking about. “Axis? What has been happening? Elcho Falling looks as though a rampaging army has been through it. And what has Eleanon been doing outside?”

  Axis sighed, and told her all the dire happenings since she’d been gone.

  It was a heavy weight of bad news for someone who had only been gone a relatively short while.

  “I hope your news is better,” Axis finished up, opening the door into the command chamber for her.

  Inardle didn’t reply.

  She walked into the chamber, greeting Isaiah and Maximilian, shocked at how tired they all looked. She’d thought Axis had looked terrible, but Maximilian particularly looked as though he’d spent the past few days fighting demons.

  “The Skraelings?” Isaiah said as they all seated themselves.

  “They are not far south of here,” Inardle said. “Isaiah, they are becoming beautiful. I can describe it no other way. They are losing their vile, frightful appearance and they are becoming beautiful.”

  She paused. “And thoughtful.”

  Isaiah gave a small smile. “That is good news. It means they are moving in the right direction mentally. Did they tell you what decision they are likely to make?”

  “They knew I had changed into River Angel form. They questioned me closely. They wanted to know if I had murdered as a River Angel.”

  “Ah,” Isaiah said, knowing that she had.

  “I explained to them why,” Inardle said, “that it was justified, but they were deeply unhappy. Disappointed in me, and even themselves, so it seemed.”

  “And then?” Isaiah said.

  Inardle shrugged. “Then they just vanished. I did not see them again.”

  “What do you think is happening, Isaiah?” Maximilian asked.

  “They’re already changing,” Isaiah said. “The process has begun. They need to drown themselves to completely change back to River Angels, but they’re on their way.”
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  “Which means .” Axis said.

  “Which means they will be driven to come here,” Isaiah said.

  “But they seemed so disappointed in me,” Inardle said.

  “As they were,” said Isaiah. “You had killed, and that saddened them. But think . . . these were once Skraelings, but are now creatures who are disappointed at one who kills. That gives me hope.”

  Isaiah paused, the fingers of one hand tapping away at the table. “If you want a prediction, then here it is. The Skraelings will come to Elcho Falling’s lake. They will dive in and drown and complete their transformation. They will be driven to it. Whatever discussion they’ve been having over the past weeks has altered their mentality so greatly the change is now inevitable. But what will they do as River Angels? I am hopeful that what they will become will be a different incarnation of what once was. They hated that Inardle had killed as a River Angel. I suggest that they will not lift a finger to harm anyone when they become River Angels.”

  Maximilian smiled. “Then that’s good news.”

  “Not quite,” Isaiah said. “It means they will not lift a single finger to aid you against the Lealfast. They will not touch them.”

  There was silence about the table, and Inardle realised that the three men had somehow, perhaps even unconsciously, been pinning their hopes on the Skraelings. It was a strange world indeed, she thought, when men such as these were frustrated that the Skraelings would not ally with them.

  “Maximilian,” Inardle said, “you can do nothing about the Lealfast, or the Dark Spire?”

  “No,” Maximilian said, without looking at Axis, who was trying to catch his eye. “Ishbel and I have spent sleepless nights — thus our somewhat bedraggled appearance — trying to remember what we could of the contents of the Twisted Tower, in case there was any hope there . . . but no hope and little memory. The Twisted Tower must be drifting farther and farther from this world, and with it goes all its knowledge.”

  “Then we need to discuss StarDancer’s —” Axis began.