The Knowledge (The Circle Book 2)

by Lee Isserow

  “Shay,” she muttered, praying that he was listening. She felt a calm and reassuring smile on his lips, his warmth radiating out to her. “I fucked up, Shay. . .” her eyes were welling with tears, a lump punching her throat with every word she forced out. “I saw it. . . it saw me, it knows everything. . . it's going to be ready, it'll kill everyone. . .”

  “Calm yourself Talika Rei.” His voice came from her periphery and washed across her, tingling over her skin with the warmest and softest of embraces. “The plan was never the plan. . . Faith did not truly believe a direct assault would be efficient. I advised him that this situation, the violation of one of our minds, might be an eventuality, and so all involved were told of an operation that was never to be. A single assault, a barrage from every angle with every element and casting, that would never truly have worked at holding a god back. . .”

  “So. . . What's the real plan? You've got a real plan, right?!”

  “You are the plan, Talika Rei.”

  “I'm not a bloody military strategist!”

  “This is not a military operation. It is a magickal one. You are well trained and well versed in what you have at your disposal. You know the assets at your command better than any other, and you are smart and creative enough to use them in a fashion that even a god will not see coming.”

  Tali didn't have the words to respond to Kahgo. She doubted literally every nice thing he had just said about her. And yet, his aura continued to pervade, and before too long, she found a smile curling up her cheeks. She knew exactly how she was going to slap this bitch upside the head, put it in line, and make sure it learned that the Natural World―her bloody world―wasn't up for grabs.

  52

  It would feast

  It never needed the slit in the veil to know what was occurring in the Natural World. That was one of the many gifts that had been passed down from its grandfather. Omniscience, all-seeing, and by seeing, it was all-knowing. It did not speak the tongues of those in the Natural World, and yet it understood them. It knew every word that had been spoken out loud in regards to the forthcoming attempt to hold it at bay, and it was prepared for it.

  Now that the one who led the charge knew that it knew, there would be fear spreading amongst their ranks. Their meek castings would falter, their intent would be marred by the knowledge that everything they did was expected. Their courage would be weakened, their resolve shattered. They might do some small modicum of damage in the attempt to hold it back and the weapon they believed to be its downfall would most certainly sting, but it would focus its efforts on smiting the child of Khal'kru, for no other would be able to wield the shard of its realm. Once it was consigned to the bottom of the ocean, it would wipe out those that attempted to strike it. . .

  And then, the Natural World would have no further protectors. With its kin in a near-eternal slumber and locked in other realms or realities, there would be no other who could stand in its way. The other side of the veil would belong to it and it alone. And finally, it would feast.

  53

  Time to dance

  Tali looked out over the site, and swallowed hard. There were so many lives on the front lines, billions more around the world. . . She should have been terrified. Yet she was not. A steely reserve had taken hold of her, and she knew exactly how to proceed.

  With swift gestures through the air, she manoeuvred the views on the scrying pools around, to confirm what she had been suspecting. . . the beast was yet to cross the threshold. She mulled on why that might be, whether it was waiting for them to strike first, to gauge their strength, or perhaps it was thinking twice now that it knew the God's End was in play. But the more Tali thought about it, the more she became certain that neither were correct.

  It was waiting for the rip between the realms to grow in size, to the point that it might be able to cross fully, rather than simply reach across. . . to move its massive bulk probably took a great amount of energy, especially given that it was not accustomed to the physics of the Natural World. That, she decided, was how they would gain the advantage―by forcing the damn thing to cross before it was ready.

  “Water adepts, you're the welcome wagon, let's show our unwelcome guest how we do things on this side of the veil!”

  *

  The water around the slit in the veil roared to life as the water adepts took control of the waves. They swirled into the air, close to fifty great tsunamis the size of skyscrapers that whipped around, becoming massive pillars in which they locked their molecules together, creating sections that were tight and solid, gargantuan blocks of ice bridged by cartilage of liquid, that allowed allow the mass of frozen water to bend and twist and turn like a spine.

  The adepts waited for the command to come across their peripheries, the columns of water standing tall and proud until it was the time to strike.

  They could feel Tali's eyes scanning the scene, waiting for any sign of a reaction by the creature. There was none, as if this show of magick was of no consequence to it.

  “Time to dance,” she barked.

  The flat tips of the first wave of water-columns twisted and shot through the air like a snake striking, the body following the path of its motion As they whipped towards the rift, their shape changed, the peaks of each of the pillars became thinner, taking on a shape that more resembled a tentacle―the damned god wasn't the only one who could use bloody tentacles. . .

  They shot across the threshold, tearing into the Outer Realm and lashed around the nearest of the creature's great tendrils. The beast tried to fight them, its monolithic bulk giving it strength. It was the size of a moon, and had more musculature pulsating through its slimy flesh than the simply constructed tentacles of water.

  The first batch that managed to grab hold of it were torn from the seas of the Natural World with barely any effort on its part, and as soon as they were no longer part of the body of the ocean, the water adepts could not control them. The water lost its form and drifted through the abyss aimlessly.

  “New plan!” Tali grunted. “Same as the old plan, but with a more gusto! Bastard thinks he's strong. . . let's show him what happens when you flex the muscles of two hundred and sixty billion gallons of bloody water!”

  At those words, the water adepts changed tack. It was only the tentacles of water they had been controlling, each acting alone as if they were individual limbs―they had not considered using the might of the ocean itself to anchor and reinforce their manifestations. It had not been considered, because it had never been attempted before. . . but with so many of them assembled, and with Tali's razor sharp intent pulsating through them, there was no reason it would not work.

  They each took breaths in unison, and realigned their focus to line up with hers. By working together, the same desires flowing through disparate minds, they could feel the water in a way they had not before. It was a heaving, living organ that pumped hard over eighty million cubic miles across the face of the planet. And it was theirs to command.

  The remaining tentacles launched themselves towards the veil and pierced it, each wrapping around the beast's arms, flexing the full might of the ocean like a muscle, using every iota of strength in the tides to drag the beast towards the Natural World.

  It fought the pull, tried with all its might to remain in place, but the water was strong, and could not be ripped apart as the first wave had been. The magickians watched and waited as the water tentacles heaved the great mass of the vile fiend ever closer. Sweat poured down the brows of each of the water adepts as they strained to maintain control of a manifestation that was larger and more powerful than anything they had ever attempted before. The others waited with baited breath, feeling Tali's breath held in a similar fashion. The beast's sickly slick flesh was so close. . . but close was not good enough, it needed to cross over into the Natural World before their assault could truly begin. . .

  *

  “Shay,” Tali said, as she stared at the scrying pools. “We're almost there. . . Any minute now.
. .”

  “So I see,” he said, his warmth radiating through her with every word. “You have done well. . . And if I do not get a chance to say it before I depart. . . I am proud of you, for all you have done and all you will do on this day, and beyond.”

  “Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but that kinda sounds like you're saying goodbye. . .”

  There was no response from Shaman Kahgo. Tali reached out, tried to find him in her periphery, then at the edge of her senses. . . but there was no sign of him.

  “Shay? . . . Shaman?”

  She attempted to dial him, but the call could not get through. He was no longer accepting incoming calls, for he was no longer in the realm.

  “It's here!” Faith growled in her periphery. “Time to send in the big guns. . .”

  Tali's eyes darted back to the scrying pools. Faith was right, the first of the beast's tentacles was crossing the threshold. But if she could not get hold of Shaman Kahgo, they had no 'big gun'. They had forced a colossus to cross into their realm, and the only person―with the only object―that was certain to destroy it was nowhere to be found.

  “Shaman. . .” Tali muttered, off-mic from the legion at her command. “Where the bloody hell are you?”

  54

  Between the realms

  In the void between waking and sleep, between life and death, between matter and nothingness, Shaman Kahgo whispered into the frail breeze that flowed between the realms.

  This was a place he was certain no other knew of, not even his sister. It was a place he came when he needed to reflect, when he needed advice or solace.

  From somewhere in the farthest reaches of this place, he felt a familiar smile. Not just the one smile, but hundreds of smiles, along with hundreds of eyes that lit up when they felt his presence.

  “Father,” he said, croaking the word out over a hoarse throat.

  The voice did not know the words of man. It spoke in a series of clicks and growls, guttural sounds and gargles. But Kahgo understood it. It was his natural tongue. It was just the one word: “son,” and it was followed by the creature's smiles growing wider.

  Kahgo felt the embrace of thousands upon thousands of tenticular arms that wrapped around him, holding him close. “Have you seen what is to come?”

  “Through you.” his father said, with a nod that felt as though it was an earthquake that shook the very essence of the place in which they met.

  “Then you know that I have the God's End. . . That I must use it upon our kin, to ward it from the Natural World.”

  Another nod, but this one felt as though it was more mournful than the first, as if saturated with a potent strain of the same regret that Kahgo felt at having no choice but to kill his kin.

  “It is the last resort. . . I know that. . . And I tried to appease Yog-Sothoth, tried to bargain and plea for his mercy upon this realm. . . but he did not acquiesce.”

  The embrace became tighter, as his father acknowledged Shaman's despair at the situation he was in, and the solution he was locked into.

  “You have done all you could to not end up at this time and place, and yet there was nowhere else this could have ended. . . The Fates have spoken. . . but you did not come to me to speak of this. . .”

  Kahgo swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. His patriarch was correct. He had not come looking for solace or advice. He had come to say goodbye.

  “There is an end for all things,” the creature continued. “But some ends are also beginnings. . . It is clear you have regrets, and had not the time to reunite with every one your progeny, or made the changes you wished to make unto the world. . . If this is the end, you can pass into the next transition knowing that your presence in this realm made a difference. Just as I know my presence did. The Natural World will persevere due to your legacy―”

  “Just as it did with your legacy. . .” Kahgo sighed. “And as it will with the legacy of my progeny. . . A cycle that never ends, over and over for generation upon generation.”

  “Would you wish it any other way?”

  “I. . . Wish I got to truly live. . . Rather than be what I was. . . nothing but a tool of fate, a warden at the gates.”

  “Your sacrifices were akin to my own. . . We had to isolate for the sake of the realm, and be agents of change for the status quo. . . That is why your son, the one of shadow, is able to have a family. Just as with your children of fire and mirror and so on. Our sacrifice was for them, so that they may live the lives we did not. . .”

  Kahgo sunk into the embrace of his father, and let the tears roll down his cheeks. His progenitor always spoke the truth, and the truth set his conscience free. And with the aid of his father, whose reassuring aura was hundreds of thousands times larger and more powerful than his own, he could accept his place, and his likely fate.

  “Shaman. . .” The word whispered through the ether, his name in the Natural World, spoken in a muttered plea for him to return.“Where the bloody hell are you?”

  “It is time for you to go,” his father instructed.

  Kahgo nodded, and he closed his eyes, preparing himself to return. He could no longer feel the embrace, nor the smiles, nor the glints in all the eyes. But he could hear the voice, like a gust of wind that whipped around him.

  “Fear not child, for we will meet again. . . in another life, another place.

  And with that, Shaman Kahgo found himself back in the room in the Epicentre. He wiped a tear from his eye, and laid his hand upon the hilt of the God's End. It was time.

  55

  What it wanted

  THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

  The tentacles of water continued to tug the beast through to the Natural World, heaving with the combined might of the ocean. The creature's arms thrashed wildly, attempting to break free of the grasp, it sent more tendrils to wrench at those that were lashed around it―but the water's hold was tight.

  For the briefest of moments, a burst of light shot out from miles above the site of the incursion, and the magickians' attention drifted to a tiny speck that fell from where the flash had occurred. It plummeted down towards the rift at a frantic pace, hurtling towards the tentacles below, and as it came close, its form shifted, as it held something aloft. . . a blade, taller than itself.

  Kahgo held the blade above him as he fell from the sky, eyes fixed on the wild and whipping tendrils below. He was lined up with them, getting so much closer, and picking up speed with every passing second. He tightened his grip on the hilt and used every iota of his strength to pull the God's End ahead of him as he came upon the beast's flesh.

  The blade made contact with the fiend's tentacle, and slipped clean through it as if it were nothing but air. A gush of thick, black blood rained down above him as he continued to drop towards the ocean, the edge of the massive sword slicing through yet more meat as he cascaded downwards, each impact with the damn god doing nothing to slow his descent.

  A great scream sounded out, coming from not one, but a myriad mouths of the great beast―but Kahgo only heard it for a fraction of a second. Tali had commanded the aural adepts to insure that the screams were captured, held in place, to be used against the damn thing. But before that could happen, there was the matter of Shaman's impending meeting with the water. . .

  As the surface loomed ever closer, Kahgo prepared to cast, to stop himself hitting it and breaking every bone upon doing so―but Tali was way ahead of him. Just metres from the waves, the winds picked up and wrapped around him. Rocketing this way and that, as if he had fallen into the eye of a tornado. But there was no tornado. . . and Shaman Kahgo was no longer in the Natural World. The wind adepts had punched a hole in reality, and given him a safe landing―out of the way of the creature's grasp―in the Wind Realm.

  The water adepts used their tentacles to rip the injured arms from the body of the Old One, and sent their tentacles back across the veil to grab yet more of the creature's appendages. This time, it would be expecting them to do so. . . but Tali had a countermeasure to
distract it. She ordered the aural adepts to manipulate the sound they had been capturing from Sothoth's screams, and hurtled it towards its eyes. Some simply blinked shut, but others exploded at the sheer force of the rippling vibrations that were hurtling towards them.

  The diversion was a success―it not only caused more screams, giving the aural adepts more ammunition, it gave the water adepts a chance to latch on to yet more tentacles. However, as they did so, they discovered that little effort was required to pull the creature forth this time. . . it was moving towards the rift of its own volition. The great beast was done waiting. . . It was preparing to cross through the slit, even though it was not yet large enough to allow its full bulk to pass.

  “It's coming!” Faith grunted in Tali's periphery.

  “Aurals! Don't let it breath on this side, one breath and it's game over for millions―if not billions!”

  The adepts didn't need to be told twice. They redirected their attack, using the sound they had been accumulating from the screams to form barriers around each of the gigantic fiend's mouths, sending any breath it attempted to expunge right back down the damn thing's throat.

  It gargled and gasped as its toxic exhalations were punched back down its throats. But it was not going to give up that easily. . . It threw its massive tendrils towards the rift and tugged it wider, pulling itself ever closer towards the Natural World.

  “Fire!” Tali shouted.

  From all angles, magickians launched a barrage of blazing arcs of fire towards the creature's bulk. The first wave did little more than sizzle against its skin impotently, but that was the intention. The gargantuan god's skin was slick with slimy residue, no flame was going to be able to do much damage until that was dried and dealt with. The second wave of flames seared the beast's flesh, and sent the aroma of grilled seafood across the battlefield. Fire adepts took the lead on the third wave of the assault, their mastery of the element was greater than those that were not adepts. As the flames of their peers shot towards the rift, they increased the temperature and velocity, reshaping the fire into targeted, blazing drills that burrowed deep into the bulk of the beast, until they were eventually quenched by the thick, black blood that that resided in the monster's veins.