The Immortal of Degoskirke

by Michael Green

  They came out into a massive rotunda. The dome raced high above, and an intricate network of golden filaments lined the walls and dome in a pattern reminiscent of a circuit board, or a labyrinth.

  “Wow,” Letty whispered, craning her neck to look up.

  Thousands of branches of the gold filament terminated in a wide golden circle in the center of the room. Five pillars stood around that circle, and, further back, up a slight set of stairs that led to a stage, stood a tall box.

  “Go around to the pillars, one at a time, and place a seculon in each hub,” a consort directed Letty, who did so, accompanied by her friends.

  “This is like nothing I’ve ever seen,” Quill whispered, his eyes still wide.

  Letty approached the first pillar. It was enveloped by a nexus of golden wires that all terminated around a slot that would accept the coin. She pressed a coin into the slot on each pillar.

  “And the sixth coin into the box, please. We need to eat too,” one of the consorts said with a laugh.

  “So, they don’t actually do anything?” Staza whispered. “They just make money off this old contraption—”

  Letty scoffed, but did as she was told.

  “Now, very carefully, toss one last coin into the circle. Be careful to aim for the center. As you throw the coin, say the name of your destination. Speak clearly; bungling this can be expensive.”

  The consorts and the guards stepped back. The guards also leveled their weapons, as if expecting a threat.

  Letty felt nervous as she produced one more gold seculon and aimed for the center of the circle.

  “There’s a girl,” Blue said cautiously.

  Letty flipped the coin and said, “Zentule!”

  The coin was stuck by light from the five pillars and it exploded in a spray of liquid gold across the circle. The complex filaments pulsed with blinding light, and there flashed a portal.

  “Whew!” Blue yelled, through the sudden shock of wind coming from the flat, glittering, disk.

  On the other side stood tall, thick jungle. A sprawling, yet deceptively low series of slate structures stood in the distance.

  “How long will the portal stay open?” Letty yelled, through the wind.

  The consort in blue approached and spoke in her ear. “It will stay open for a day, unless you pay another gold seculon and we can stoke it for a second. Come, I’ll show you through.”

  She gestured to the guards, who rushed through the portal, and then waved for Letty to follow. Letty handed the woman another coin, just to be safe.

  Letty took a deep breath and shared glances with her friends.

  They stepped through. The consort and a pair of guards followed.

  The other side was humid and filled with the cacophonous cries of jungle birds and millions of insects.

  “Here,” the consort said, producing two devices that looked like sea-stars. She handed one to Letty. “Control the portal this way.” She laid her sea-star against the portal and twisted it. The portal shrunk if twisted one way and grew the other. “We keep it closed tight, for our safety, and, with the sea-star, you can open it up when you want to come back through. Just, whatever you do, do not lose the sea-star!” she concluded, stepping back through with her guards, and tightening the portal to about the size of a coin.

  “Service with a smile,” Blue said sarcastically.

  They all turned and looked up at the rugged palace in the distance. The sky above was shot through with forked light.

  “Scary place,” Letty said, leading the way.

  Chapter 7

  Greylapse

  Ithmene took another bite of her ice cream. “Thank you for lunch. It’s been a while since someone else cooked,” she said.

  Andy eyed her bowl and she pushed it towards him. He tried a spoon full. It tasted faintly of licorice.

  “Of course,” Andy said, distracted by the flavor. “And thank you for so many meals—I like seafood now. This was the least I could do. Could I maybe pay you—for all that work you did cooking, I mean?”

  Ithmene gave him a stern glance.

  “Right, it’s just, you’ve done so much for me—” Andy trailed off, feeling embarrassed and remembering the night before. He had cried.

  Ithmene took another bite before pushing her dish away.

  He felt the glances of other diners.

  They know she’s a temple maiden. They’re wondering what she’s doing with me.

  “We’re causing a fuss,” she said. “Let’s get to the Greylapse.”

  Andy paid the bill before following Ithmene to the door.

  Before exiting, she turned and produced a carrot.

  Andy scowled.

  “I can’t—if I take it, I won’t be able to recognize—” he paused and leaned closer. “I won’t be able to see them.”

  Ithmene sighed and closed her fingers around the carrot.

  “Just stay behind me and keep your eyes down,” she whispered.

  Stepping outside, the sounds of the street and nearby debate filled the air. As they walked, Andy sensed something else; an uncertain murmur seemed to follow them. He saw a child point to the sky, at the steel blossom, and then exclaim, only to be silenced by her parents.

  Even the debates had lost their usual red-hot verve as speakers occasionally turned their glances skywards. The blossom, unlike the cyclic colors of the city, sat stationary, growing with the days. Even the mice in their gutters and the goblins in their rickety hovels arranged chairs to gaze upward. Others trundled carts full of food or jars of pure water at a clip through the streets.

  “Doesn’t it infect you, Andy?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can’t you hear them? Even the children know something is coming. They are expecting Caspian. Cataclysm is in the air.”

  “I’m not taking the Cogito. The city will not be destroyed,” Andy replied, as if in denial of her observations. Though he knew she was right. The city had a sixth sense, and was readying itself for a storm.

  “You may not take the Cogito, but there will be change nonetheless.”

  They walked in silence for a while, the nervous anticipation washing over them until Ithmene turned to him and asked, “Do you plan on stopping the ryle?”

  “Not with force; it’s not possible.”

  Ithmene rolled her eyes. “Instead of allying with the other ryle,” she practically spat the word, ryle, “why not win the people to your side? More are ready to support you than you’d expect. Ryle tyranny is real, and the people living here know it. They see it, always just beyond the gates, waiting to get in. Come back to the Temple, we’ll spread the word, and allies you’ve never met will come to fight with you.”

  “So, you’re a strategist now, Ithmene?” Andy asked.

  “I have developed many talents in my time. All to serve you.”

  Andy stopped walking and looked at her. “We’re not married.”

  “Who knows what we are? Everything is changing. We can do whatever we want. You have the power of God in your hands and our enemies cower at your coming. They are even more afraid, because you aren’t acting like Caspian. He’d never wait this long.”

  Andy felt the weight of her words.

  “Anything. We can do anything,” she repeated, sensing the affect she had.

  Andy had the urge to agree, to do whatever she wanted to keep the smile on her face.

  “What’s your plan?” he asked.

  “Take off those robes and wear this,” she said, producing a silver face mask from her purse.

  “Does that belong to Caspian?”

  “No. It is our gift to the next speaker, and that is you. Forget Caspian. People who know the songs, will know this.”

  “Why are you so confident in me? I’m just a—I was crying on you last night,” Andy said, looking away.

  “You can do what no one else could. They call Caspian the Usurper because he stole the Argument from the Seers. None could resist as he took their bodies and used the
m for his ends. You resisted him. Somehow you did it. Maybe you were too young, or the snake woman, in trying to prematurely summon Caspian, made you aware and distrusting. Whatever happened, you are the sign of change. You won’t have Caspian’s centuries of experience, but you will have me.”

  “So, dress up like the Seers of old, wear a silver mask, and what? Attack ryle in the streets?”

  “Yes. Kill them in the streets. Force the Exegesuits to reckon with you. Take your case to the high court and walk them down into the sewers to see the attacking army. They will have no choice but to support you.”

  Andy recalled the graffiti in the hideout. Despite his progress, he knew himself to be no match for Ziesqe; his recent practice against tree branches underlined that.

  “You can save the city, regain everyone’s support, and demolish the secular church. They will raise you to a new station. We can call you Consul, or Majesty, whatever you like, and maybe—if you choose, I can be your wife.”

  Andy grimaced as memories of Pythia came back to him.

  This is too much like Caspian. It will never work. The Exegesuits will execute me, why does she think they would listen? They have guns that can shoot through my armor. Even if I did beat them, the ryle would kill me. And, if despite it all, I somehow won, what business do I have being king?

  Andy held out the mask as he looked into Ithmene’s lovely face.

  He finally shook his head. “I won’t do it.”

  Instead of bursting out with anger, or pouting, or even turning and walking away, she simply took the mask, replacing it in her bag.

  “Are you upset?” Andy asked.

  “Of course I am, but I stand beside you. Do not look so surprised,” she said, moving on.

  Andy scowled under his hood, puzzled by her response.

  “There it is,” she said. “The Greylapse: finest gallery and museum in Degoskirke. It can take days to see everything, but we’ll find the painting wings. I want to show you something specific.”

  Andy recalled the piece she mentioned last night.

  “Do you still plan on meeting with the owner?”

  Andy nodded.

  “You plan to turn the ryle’s greed against Ziesqe?”

  Andy nodded again.

  She was silent, and they stood facing the building for a long time.

  “If I was better trained, or knew the city, or had some kind of power, I would agree to some of your plan. But as it stands, I know the ryle want to keep their status. They will not care to be subservient to Ziesqe. They will be better able to resist him and get the wheels moving to stop the invasion. As it stands, I can’t fight them. I don’t have the power you think. I have to hide my face in public.”

  Ithmene seemed stung by Andy’s analysis. “And what if Ziesqe has already made arrangements with the ryle here? What if they would prefer to see the city topple? What if they stand to gain more in the change, than they do with the status quo? What if they turn on you, inside their home, with their guards?”

  “Then I’ll have to fight, and you might get your way by accident.”

  Andy hadn’t noticed, but during his conversation with Ithmene, a patrol of armored Exegesuit guards had been moving up the lane towards them.

  “Stand aside!” one bellowed.

  Andy moved, but he wasn’t fast enough and was shoved aside. His foot caught on a flagstone and he fell to his knees. A pair of the guards laughed, and a sudden burst of anger forced Andy to his feet in a flash.

  “Careful now, pup!” one said, grabbing his robe and pulling Andy closer. “Wouldn’t want to lose any teeth, now would we?”

  “Decent people make way for the guard,” another added.

  Outraged, Andy struggled to behave cowardly. He kept his eyes on the floor, though his humiliation in front of Ithmene felt deadly serious. Thoughts of grasping the marble filled his mind.

  “Gentlemen, please,” Ithmene said.

  The sound of her voice caught their attention.

  “Was he bothering you, miss?” one asked.

  “My boy is often too attentive—he mustn’t have heard you coming,” Ithmene mused, her voice a shade more melodious than Andy was used to.

  The guard holding his robe released him, and even took a moment to straighten it out.

  Andy heard the guards muttering about how Ithmene must be a temple maiden.

  “Is it true that you can retire—if, uh—say the right one was to come along?” a guard asked.

  “He would have to be very right,” Ithmene said, her voice luscious.

  All but one guard was trained solely on Ithmene. This final guard grimaced at Andy. He approached and nocked Andy’s hood off. “Look at me, boy!” the guard insisted.

  “The right one, must be gentle,” Ithmene insisted, laying a hand on the intrusive guard’s arm.

  The intrusive guard slapped Ithmene’s hand away, eliciting sounds of shock from his fellows. Ithmene gasped, filling the sound with notes of pain and displeasure.

  “Bilton!” one of the guards cried, taking hold of the intrusive guard. “Get back on patrol!”

  “Show some respect!” another insisted.

  The enchanted guards shoved Bilton further down the lane, but still looked attached to Ithmene. Andy felt his hand reach into a pocket and grasp the Argument.

  Ithmene saw this and tapped him gently on the shoulder. “A gentle touch,” Ithmene said, “and courtesy will win my favor.”

  The guards nodded. “Gentle—” “Proper manners, of course,” they muttered.

  “Come and see me in precisely three days’ time, at the temple. When you arrive, ask for Olessa.”

  The guards nodded, still not taking the hint.

  “Be prompt—and if I see any of your faces before that exact moment, I will never speak to any of you again!”

  The guards gasped and practically vanished in their rush to get away.

  “Will I be that stupid—when I get older?” Andy asked.

  Ithmene laughed and pinched his cheek. “You’re older than you think,” she said, before leading him across the street and to their destination. “Poor Olessa,” Ithmene said, chuckling, “and she looks quite like me, too.”

  Andy wanted to join in the mirth, but was stuck by the size of the museum ahead.

  Approaching the doors to the Greylapse, Andy was stopped by attendants. A hulking pair of brutox checked him for weapons, but ignored Ithmene.

  “As you have seen, being a maiden has some advantages,” she said, as they entered.

  Past the door, Andy looked up and felt his jaw drop. The foyer was dominated by a painting that covered the entire opposite wall. It featured a massive table surrounded by hundreds of people from many races. Some were robed like Exegesuits, while others wore strange uniforms and bore weapons. Even a curious, velvety, walking lizard stood by the table. A human and an ychorite clasped forearms over a prominent document, which read:

  “Charter of the twin cities of Neichenheim and Middeskirke, henceforth known as Degoskirke. All ychorons will, from now until eternity, be free ychorites when under the protection of Degoskirke and its peoples. Members of the brutox matriarchy will be welcome in Degoskirke forever more, and will never be, by force or coercion, made to serve against their will. The Anteschismarian Order of Exegesuits will be empowered to keep the peace between the two Voices and their servants, both foreign and domestic. The Archatian clans will be charged with the day to day governorship of Degoskirke, which is to be divided into administrative parcels as approved by their citizenry. This founding document serves as seal of union and requires that any addition or amendment be heard in Quoratota and unanimously agreed upon by a representative from the five most prominent Archatian houses and the five branches of the Anteschismarian Order.”

  The Exegesuits started as peacekeepers. Now they rule the city. This mentions the two Voices. That must be Argument and the Counter. At some point we were allowed in the city, but now we’re outlawed.

  Andy stood and sta
red for so long that a docent, a uniformed ychorite, came by. “Do you need any assistance?”

  “No thank you; it’s his first time here,” Ithmene answered with a smile, while reaching for her purse. She handed the docent a silver coin. “Our gift.”

  The docent nodded. “I’ll make sure the guards know to let you by. Thank you and enjoy your visit.”

  A floor-plan on the wall showed three wings, all branching off from the entry way. Andy read the signs: “Pac-wing: Degoskirke, its peoples and their history. Lantic-wing: Secularist masters - plastic arts, furniture. Sur-wing: Old Greylapse, the voices of madness, and the armory.”

  Let me guess which one we want.

  Ithmene led him to the sur-wing.

  Andy lowered his eyes and let her lead the way past the guards. The few visitors were outnumbered by the brutox guards.

  In the next chamber, Andy pulled back his hood and took in the sight of Seer work. The room was like a forest full of deer, if a forest were made of metal trees weighed down by enameled leaves fringed in gold wire. Everywhere he looked, Andy saw the hidden switches and levers built into the hundreds of mechanical trees and the herd of deer, which occasionally picked up their ears and blinked their ebony eyes.

  Andy felt his heart tense at the sight. Light glittered off every surface, and the leaves seemed to sway in an unseen wind. Lighter stones stood in for rays of light that cascaded down the walls and across the floor. Carefully inlaid tiles were placed so delicately as to resemble an actual forest floor.

  I don’t need the Silversight to see this was made by Seers. I’d like to look though. This room is complex. It might hide something.

  Andy felt Ithmene take his hand and pull. Reluctantly, he let her take him away.

  Andy moved with her through the wondrous forest and into a wide room full of display cases featuring arms and armor. One wall was devoted to the battle armor of the Exegesuit guards. The suits were lined up by generation, showing their development. He wondered why they still wore armor if they bore guns.