The Redemption of Wist Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3: The complete collection

by David Gilchrist

  He tried again to find some pattern he could recognise, something familiar from his own world and his own time, but there was nothing. It all just looked like a massive jumble of points scattered across the sky.

  So he gave up on stargazing and shut his eyes. Soon, sleep came for him and with it came dreams. They fell upon him, but this time there was no malice in them. One by one, fragments of his past visited him, but these were warm glimpses of things he had forgotten about; friends long gone, comrades lost years before and places he had seen – in both this world and his own. As he woke, the dreams faded as fast as his heartbeats could carry them.

  He blinked several times as he opened his eyes. At first, he thought that he gazed into the Sun. As the sleep fled from his eyes, he saw that it was Enceladus. The light from him was harsher than sunlight, but less absolute. There was a sudden eruption from Enceladus. Steam issued from the black cracks on the back of his head, which was carried away in an instant on the stiff wind.

  Everyone was up and ready, so Wist stood and shook himself. ‘Tyla, why didn’t you wake me?’ The Lyrat shrugged and handed Wist his pack. He knew it wasn’t Tyla’s job to look after him, but he didn’t apologise.

  They moved on immediately that he was ready. Leaving the shelter of the wall was difficult. The wind sapped all of their energy in moments whilst it curled around behind them now. It forced them forward, like a master driving his slaves as opposed to a shepherd guiding his flock.

  The ice below their feet snapped and cracked as they walked. The surface here was venous, as if water had flown across the frozen surface in defiance of the Ghria Duh, only to be taught the error of its ways by the black disk.

  It and the wind made the journey slow and dangerous. Even with the improvised crampons, the party suffered numerous slips and falls, and Wist became worried that one of them would turn an ankle. It would most likely be him, as the only way he could tell he was making contact with the ground was the vibrations in his legs as his feet hit the ice.

  The Ghria Duh sat high above them, turning velvet shadows into deep crevices. Oinoir was the only one of the Giants who struggled with the conditions now. Haumea and Dionach sounded like a pack of Buralo on the hunt, but they made good progress. Oinoir made less noise than his kin, but he also made less headway.

  Soon Oinoir and Wist found themselves at the rear of the group. Wist stopped trying to keep up with the others. He could make out Enceladus’ light, even in the oppressive gloom of the Ghria Duh.

  ‘Tell me something of your land Oinoir. I never like to march in silence.’ Wist shouted into the wind.

  Wist was surprised when Oinoir laughed. But then the Giant grimaced.

  ‘The wound the Buralo gave you still troubles you, Oinoir?’

  ‘It does, but what I cannot stand is this cold. It puts me in mind of the grave and my friends that lie prematurely in theirs.’

  ‘Tell me of your friends then,’ Wist said. ‘Or tell me of your kin. Tell me of Oinair.’

  Wist expected a sharp rebuke from the Giant. He had witnessed the Giant’s temper before when the name had come up. But Oinoir sighed and produced a prodigious cloud of steam which was dispersed by the billowing wind.

  ‘Why not Dionach, why not?’ he said. Then he shrugged his shoulders and tried to reposition his burden without halting. Then, either satisfied with the result or resigned to their ineffectiveness, he let them be.

  ‘My sister Oinair was a brave a warrior as you would ever meet, and how she could inspire, Dionach. With her in command here, I have no doubt we would succeed.’

  Wist avoided the obvious question and asked instead, ‘When did you last see her?’

  Oinoir shook his hooded head, which concealed his blonde hair and exposed growing beard. ‘She fell at Ghosa,’ he replied evading the question. She fell trying to stop those white Demons claiming our land, but they did not want our land, did they? They only wanted that damned stone that lay buried at Dilsich and our King would not let them have it.’ Oinoir moved his hand inside his pocket as if something gnawed at his skin.

  ‘Perhaps your King was right to deny them?’ said Wist. ‘Perhaps he saved us from worse things?’

  Oinoir laughed bitterly this time. ‘Worse than this Dionach? Worse than this?’ I fear the World that you came from if you can imagine a worse fate than this. A land stripped of its hope and people bereft of their future. No. She died for no just cause.’

  Silence lay between them for a while as they shuffled along in the blackness of the Ghria Duh, but before it became too deep to broach, Oinoir spoke once more.

  ‘I fought beside her only once. It was a few decades ago. Our Western borders, which the mountains protect, were assailed by the Hillfolk from the lands that lay in the shadow of the rising sun.

  ‘We had little to do with them. They had nothing we could trade with them and the passage across the mountains was difficult for Giants, and near impossible for the humans. ‘

  ‘Then came word that an army was building at the foot of the Dochli mountains. I suspect that if our King’s throne had not sat at Athadh, at the end of that range of hills it would have been dismissed, but Oinair was sent with a section of warriors, including myself, to put down whatever trouble the humans had stirred up.’

  Wist knew that the Giants had been on good terms with the humans that lived on the Eastern side of Pyrite, those driven from their homes by the Intoli’s invasion. The humans would be in those mountains now, either scraping a living or, more likely perishing in the perpetual night. It surprised Wist that the Giants had found enmity with humans.

  ‘It took us several days to traverse the foothills of the range,’ Oinoir continued, ‘as winter had come early that year and it had not come alone. Storms and ill fortune dogged our passage. Several of our number had to be sent home with injuries. As we arrived at our destination, only three of us remained: myself, my sister and Matheir. Matheir had trained to be a priest, but he found that he was too quick to anger. So, my sister… adopted him and began to instruct him.’

  Wist thought back to how Enceladus had done the same thing for him and how he had repaid him for it. Wist had to try hard to stop his thoughts turning to Tilden and visions of his mentor’s murder at his brother’s hands.

  ‘And there it was, this army. A sorry lot they were, but there were many of them, and as we watched more and more were arriving. They were armed, in as much as you could call the poor quality wrought iron helmets and swords that a few of them wore. They were a raiding force, not a conquering one. They would pillage whatever they could and then escape with their spoils. Any well-planned defence would break them, but we decided that we would put an end to it before they could do any damage. They had not ventured far and were still in sight of the mountains.’

  ‘So, we rushed them, just the three of us in our full battle armour. We must have been a terrifying sight, for the humans fled before us, but as we pushed them back towards the mountains, we saw how they had managed to traverse them in such numbers. The side of the mountain was peppered with holes. Most of these were the size of a man, but there was one huge chasm in the midst of them all. It was twice my height and unnaturally smooth and round, like that damn thing in the sky.’

  ‘They fled towards these holes, for it was through them that they must have come, but out poured huge worms. I do not know whether the tunnels were the worms’ creations, but the humans did not expect to be trapped between us on one side and the worms on the other.’

  Oinoir coughed as the wind swirled and whipped some loose ice into his face, but he brushed it away and continued his tale.

  ‘The humans tried to run from both us and the worms, but those creatures moved faster than I could have believed, and they fell on the humans, devouring them. By the time we realised our peril, the central tunnel was groaning. From it emerged a titan, all glittering teeth and slime. It had gnawed away the heart of the mountain and now had us in its sights.’

  ‘Oinair grabbed me, stoppi
ng my heedless rush. She was right, of course. This was not a foe to face there and then.’

  ‘But Matheir, poor brave Matheir had let his anger gain control of him once more. He butchered two of the smaller creatures as he made his way towards the largest. It reared as he approached, and he accepted its challenge.’

  ‘Oinair and I shouted to him, but he had gone too far. We ran to him as the beast closed its maw and began to drag him away. We hacked and battered the thing as it went, but the smaller worms turned on us, whether by command or by instinct. I stood and faced them, and letting sister fight the gargantuan beast. I slew countless, slithering monsters and left their corpses to befoul the mountainside, but it still did not buy Oinair enough time.’

  ‘She battled it till it withdrew into the mountain and took young Matheir with it, so Oinair did the only thing she could. She brought down the hole on top of the beast. I was still occupied with the smaller ones as she achieved her goal. There was a dreadful scream from the monster, like a fox calling to a mate or a babe in arms crying. Then the ground convulsed and I fell, thinking all was lost.’

  ‘But robbed of their guiding force the worms fled. Oinair carried me from that place. We left Matheir’s body in the heart of the mountain with the corpse of a worm for company.’

  Then Oinoir laughed, a bitter an acrid sound, as if all true humour had been scoured from his soul.

  ‘Perhaps that was not the tale you wished to hear?’ Oinoir asked Wist, but Wist nodded.

  ‘I don’t think it matters whether I wanted to hear it, but that you needed to tell it.’

  They walked in silence for a few more hours as the Ghria Duh set, before they caught up with the rest of the company. They had waited for them to ensure they hadn’t gotten lost.

  When Wist looked around from the slight rise that the company stood on, he could see that they had wandered off course. The wall on their right drew close to them again. Then, as he followed the line of the wall, he realised that it curved in toward them. Tyla had guessed what he was looking at and pointed to the other side, where that wall too had come around to meet them.

  ‘You’ve lead us into a dead end,’ said Wist to Sevika.

  As the Giants began to complain, Enceladus walked away from them, heading towards the place where the walls would meet.

  ‘Where does he think he’s going?’ Wist asked Tyla, but the Lyrat only lifted an eyebrow.

  With no other choice, they followed the Intoli, who now walked away from them. Decheal complained loudly, forecasting their doom with each footstep.

  As they drew close to the walls, Wist noticed that they curved away again, but this time the curvature was slight. The lines of the wall pointed to where they would meet at a singularity.

  Then Aviti shouted, ‘No!’

  Wist turned to see the Masheshi girl staring at the back of Enceladus, who stood still beside her.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Wist.

  ‘They are there,’ she said.

  ‘Who? Who is there?’ He turned to look back at Enceladus. Tiny points of light blinked in the darkness behind him where the walls drew together. Motes of light that appeared to dance and shimmer.

  ‘The dead,’ said Aviti. ‘And they want us.’

  12 - By Starlight

  ‘What do you mean, the dead?’ asked Wist.

  Aviti did not answer, not straight away anyway. She trembled and stared with her mouth open, watching the points of light dance in anticipation of their arrival.

  ‘They are there waiting for us,’ she said in a tremulous voice. ‘Calling for us. I can hear them. I will not go in there.’

  Wist looked around. The walls were high and sheer, and the plateau was many, many feet above their heads. Some rubble lay at the entrance, as if the walls had recently shed their outer casing.

  ‘Tyla,’ Wist said, ‘could you…’ but before he could finish, the Lyrat shook his head.

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean no? I’ve seen you climb worse.’

  ‘No. We must go through.’

  ‘What? Since when did…’ Wist began, but he left the rest unsaid. Then he changed tack and said, ‘Why Tyla? Why must we go in?

  ‘Faric is in there,’ Tyla replied.

  Faric?

  The dead want us. Want us for what?

  ‘No Tyla,’ cried Aviti. ‘You cannot go. Do not go.’

  Tyla ignored her and started to walk towards Enceladus, whose light began to pulsate.

  ‘Tyla,’ said Wist and he put a hand on the Lyrat’s shoulder. ‘A moment, please.’ Then he turned about to face Aviti and said, ‘Aviti, you have been through so much, but I think Tyla is right.’

  Aviti continued to shake her head, but her trembling subsided.

  ‘You cannot remain here and Tyla, for one, is determined to go through. Sevika has led us here.’ As Wist gestured to the opening, he saw it for what it was; a continuation of the scar in the land that his ancient failure had caused, but he was no longer ashamed of it. In some ways, it made sense to travel along the scars of his life.

  ‘I will go first,’ said Wist taking up his torch once more and no one spoke to contradict him. They just let him lead.

  Enceladus moved aside and let Wist walk on. As he approached the threshold, motes of light appeared as if to block his way. Then the stars rippled as if hit by a shockwave, but they spread out, making a passageway for him. As he passed through the invisible barrier, he glanced back to see Tyla a few steps behind, and the others readying themselves.

  The points of light followed him as he walked, but they remained behind also, as if his presence caused them to multiply. What had been a flat plane was now an undulating tunnel, created by sentient beings; points of light or sources of eternity.

  He thought about looking back, but didn’t. Either his friends followed him or they didn’t, so he walked on into the cavalcade of light, watching in awe as the lights continued to grow in number.

  Now they stretched out before him, above him, all around him and the flecked black night inverted, becoming a white tunnel with black spots spoiling the perfection.

  Wist knew he was alone now. Tyla should be a few steps behind him, but now he could be anywhere. He could be anywhere, any time and any place. The light was so bright now that it obliterated everything. He should have closed his eyes, protected them from the burning light, but it was a blessed relief to see such beautiful light after the Ghria Duh’s unending night-time.

  His feet and hands began to tingle, as if there was magic in the air. Nevertheless, he knew the sensation. It was blood returning to his extremities; a sign of life being thrust back into him.

  The light deepened in colour, moving from perfect white to warm yellow. As he walked, it became the hue of the summer desert; baked amber opulence. Although he continued to walk, he had the impression that he was no longer moving. Something compelled him onwards though, perhaps it was the thought of the end of his journey?

  Before him, a dune coalesced out of the uniform light that surrounded him. For all its detail, it looked artificial to Wist’s eyes, as if the grains of sand had been placed there, rather than having been scattered by the random Brownian motion of the wind. Closer and closer he drew to it. Now he felt the heat from the sand beneath his feet, but he couldn’t move his eyes from his destination.

  A bright glint of light caught his eye, like sunlight reflecting from a metal surface in the distance, but it did not vanish, no matter how he moved his head. Then sand slid down the dune and began to pile up beneath the light. Like iron drawn to a magnet, more and more sand slid toward the mound. When it grew high enough to touch the point of light, the mound shimmered and the light dropped into it.

  Then the sand fell away and a figure stepped out. The tall woman took graceful steps down the sand towards him. Her hand extended out towards him as if in supplication.

  Autumn, he thought and his heart raced as he closed the distance to her. But it was not her. The features were stretched. An
elongated mouth and eyes made this thing into a parody of the woman he once loved. That he still did love.

  Then he knew who it was. The Intoli in the cave. The one that Tilden had used to trigger the anger within him.

  Wist grimaced as the revelation sunk in, but then as he drew close enough to touch the Intoli’s diaphanous robes, he smiled. He extended his hands, noticing the ragged scar on one of his wrists. He attempted to take the Intoli’s hand, but the slender figure withdrew.

  As she went, he said, ‘I’m sorry,’

  The Intoli smiled, but then she shook her head. Before Wist could ask her why, the figure dissolved back into the sand and a speck of light fled from the centre as the matter lost its cohesion. Then Wist passed through the place the figure had stood and from which the light had fled. Then the sand, the sun, the warm light all vanished, replaced by a glorious, somnolent blue.

  Waves brushed at his feet now and salt air assaulted his scoured senses. The abrupt change of place or time, threatened to unleash his vertigo, but his purpose drove him onwards. Wist could hear his own breathing and his heart beating, but nothing else.

  As he walked, another point of brilliant, white light appeared on the blue horizon. This time as he neared it, waves began to build around it, each depositing a fraction of their essence as they departed.

  The figure that emerged from the blue was taller than the last one. It was taller and broader... and it was male.

  ‘Wist,’ the Giant boomed.

  ‘Brathoir,’ breathed Wist. The Giant who stood before him was not the bedraggled wretch whom had succumbed to the injuries of war. Wist had cut the leg off the Giant to save his life, but it had been in vain. Brathoir had died of blood loss and exhaustion, and they had cast his body into the underground river beneath Pyrite.

  ‘Aye,’ said the Giant. ‘It is.’

  ‘I,’ Wist began, but he could not find the words.