The Glass Word

by Kai Meyer

  “Yes,” agreed the Queen. “Possibly.”

  Serafin was still holding Merle’s hand. He looked back and forth from her to the slender lion body far below. It seemed to him that with every moment the gurgling was a little louder, stronger, angrier. Not all the openings in the walls were at floor level; some, like the balcony, lay dozens of yards high, and the water plunged into the space below with tremendous force. The ice on the ledge where they stood was also melting, surrounding them all with slush and shallow puddles. Here and there it was already dripping over the edge into the depths below.

  “We must go down there.” The Queen’s voice sounded somber and ominous. And once more Merle became aware that she was hiding something from her. The last part of the truth. Perhaps the most unpleasant.

  Just tell me, she demanded in her head, what is it?

  The Queen hesitated. “When the time comes.”

  No! Now!

  The hesitation lengthened, became stubborn silence.

  What’s wrong, damn it? Merle tried to sound as demanding as possible—which wasn’t so easy when you were only saying the words in your head and not with your mouth.

  “We cannot call everything into question now.”

  No one’s even talking about that.

  “Please, Merle. It is already hard enough.”

  Merle was going to argue when Serafin tugged on her hand.

  “Merle!”

  She whirled around tensely. “What is it?”

  “Something’s not right down there!”

  “Absolutely not,” Vermithrax agreed.

  Lalapeya said nothing. She was stiff with horror.

  At first everything seemed unchanged: the gigantic statue of the demonic Sekhmet; next to it, much smaller, her lifeless body on the altar; and everywhere around them the water, flowing down out of the halls and passages of the Iron Eye and covering the floor.

  No new arrivals. No sphinxes far and wide.

  The mirror images! The reflections of the powerful statue had begun to move. At a fleeting look it might have been because of the curtains of water that streamed down the walls and broke up and distorted the reflections. But then gentle quaking and trembling turned into loud thundering. Gigantic limbs tensed and stretched. A titanic body awakened from its rigidity.

  Merle felt as if she were falling miles deep into a chasm of silver. Everything around her whirled for a moment, faster and faster. She felt sick with dizziness. Only gradually did the truth emerge from the whirlpool of impressions.

  Some of the reflections were in fact from the statue, and those continued motionless. But the rest reflected a being that had only the size and part of the lion body in common with the statue.

  Serafin’s hand clutched Merle’s fingers. He’d seen this creature once before, when the Egyptian collector’s magic had pulled it from the wreckage of the cemetery island of San Michele.

  The Son of the Mother—the largest of all sphinxes, hideous and misshapen like a distorted image of all those who revered him—had been in the temple the entire time. In front of the wall, seen at a distance, he had appeared to be one of the innumerable mirror images.

  Now they knew better.

  “Down!” whispered Lalapeya sharply. “He hasn’t noticed us yet!”

  All followed her direction. Merle’s joints had turned to ice. Vermithrax had raised the obsidian hairs of his mane in excitement and extended all his claws, ready for the last, the greatest of all fights.

  Maybe the shortest.

  What gave the sphinxes refined, almost perfect looks, in the Son of the Mother looked displaced, crooked, distorted. The sphinx god measured some dozen yards from his muscular human chest to his lion hindquarters. His hands had grotesque, knotted fingers, and many too many of them; they looked almost like spiders’ bodies and were big enough to mash Merle and her companions with one blow. His claws were yellow and did not retract. With every step they punched a row of three-foot-deep holes in the temple’s mirror floor. The four lion legs and the two human arms were too long and had too many joints, bent and stretched by muscle cords that lay strangely wrong under pelt and skin, as if the Son of the Mother had far more of them than any other sphinx.

  And then his face.

  The eyes were too small for his size and glinted with the same light as that of the Stone Light. His cheekbones were unnaturally prominent, and in the wings of his nose were cavelike nostrils. His forehead resembled a steep wall of furrows and scars, stemming from forgotten battles long ago. The teeth behind the scaly lips were a wall of stalactites and stalagmites, the entry to a stinking grotto, whose puffs of breath took form as crimson clouds. Only his hair was silky and shining, full and long, and of the deepest black.

  Merle knew that they were all having the same thought: There was no point in it anymore. Nothing and no one could stand against such a creature. Certainly not the delicate lioness who lay lifeless down there on the altar.

  “I had forgotten how dangerous he is,” the Queen said tonelessly.

  Marvelous, thought Merle bitterly. Just exactly what I wanted to hear.

  “Oh,” responded the Queen hastily, “I can beat him! I have already done it once.”

  That was pretty long ago.

  “You are quite right there.”

  The Queen appeared to have lost some of the optimism she’d displayed recently at every mention of the battle with the Son of the Mother. The Queen was daunted, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And deep inside Merle felt a fear that was not her own. The Flowing Queen was afraid.

  “What’s he going to do?” whispered Vermithrax with a dry voice.

  The Son of the Mother was pacing back and forth in front of the grotesque statue of Sekhmet, sometimes faster, sometimes skulking, like a hunter circling his prey. His gaze was directed toward the tiny body at the feet of the statue, the petrified lion cadaver, which seemed to disquiet him far more than the masses of water that would soon overflow the mirrored temple.

  “He doesn’t know what to do,” Lalapeya whispered. She had pushed her bandaged hands to the edge of the balcony. She must be in pain, but she didn’t show it. “Just look how nervous he is. He knows he must make a decision, but he doesn’t dare to take the last step.”

  “What last step?” Vermithrax asked.

  “To destroy his mother’s body,” said Serafin. “That’s why he’s here. He wants to erase Sekhmet for all time, so that he doesn’t fare again the way he did the last time.”

  “Yes,” said the Flowing Queen to Merle. “We must hurry.”

  Merle nodded. “Vermithrax, you must take me down there.”

  The obsidian lion raised a bushy eyebrow. “Past him?”

  “We have no choice, do we?”

  The Flowing Queen had still not said a word about how she was going to change back into her own body from Merle’s. But now, like an unexpected stroke of lightning, Merle realized that obviously that was where the Queen’s last secret lay. That was what she had concealed from her the whole time.

  Good, Merle thought, the time has come. Tell me.

  She had the feeling that for the first time, the Queen was searching for words. Her hesitation became unbearable.

  Hurry up, will you!

  “When I leave you, Merle …” She stopped, stuck.

  What then?

  “When I leave your body, you will die.”

  Merle was silent. Thinking nothing. Suddenly there was only emptiness in her.

  “Merle, please …” Again hesitation, longer this time. “If there were another possibility somehow …”

  Her consciousness was swept away. No thoughts. Not even memories, things to feel sad about. No omissions, no unfulfilled wishes. Nothing.

  “I am sorry.”

  Agreed, Merle thought.

  “What?”

  I agree.

  “Is that all?”

  What did you expect? That I’d scream and rage and defend myself?

  A moment of silence, then: “
I do not know what I expected.”

  Perhaps I even suspected it.

  “You did not.”

  Yes, perhaps.

  “I … oh, damn it.”

  Explain it to me. Why can’t I live without you?

  “That is not it. It is not the change that is the reason. It is rather that …”

  Yes?

  “It is true that I can leave your body without your being harmed. If I move from one living creature to another, that is not a problem. But Sekhmet’s body is dead, you understand? It has no life of its own anymore. And therefore—”

  Therefore you must take one with you.

  “Yes. Something like that.”

  You intend to revive that stone corpse down there with my strength.

  “There is no other way. I am sorry.”

  You knew that the whole time, didn’t you?

  Silence.

  Didn’t you?

  “Yes.”

  Serafin pressed her hand again. “What are you two talking about?” His eyes were filled with concern.

  “Nothing.” Merle thought it sounded hollow and empty. “It’s all right.”

  At the same moment the Queen took control of her voice and before Merle could stop her, she said, “The others have a right to know. They shall decide.”

  “Decide what?” Serafin straightened up mistrustfully. Lalapeya also shifted closer. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  In vain Merle concentrated, trying to push back the Queen’s voice, as she had once before, in Hell. But this time she was unsuccessful. She could only listen as the Queen explained to the others through her mouth what was going to happen. Must happen.

  “No,” whispered Serafin. “That can’t be.”

  “There must be another way,” growled Vermithrax, and it sounded almost like a threat.

  Lalapeya inched over to Merle and embraced her. She was going to say something, had already opened her lips, when a light, girlish voice exclaimed, “You can’t be serious!”

  Merle looked up. She couldn’t believe it. “Junipa!”

  She detached herself from Lalapeya and Serafin, slithered as quickly as she could away from the balcony edge through the snow and water, finally leaped up, and enclosed Junipa in her arms.

  “Are you all right? Are you hurt? What happened?” For a few moments the words of the Flowing Queen were forgotten, just as her own fate was. She couldn’t let go of Junipa, had to keep staring at her like a ghost who’d appeared in front of her from nowhere. “Where’s Seth? What did he do to you?”

  Junipa smiled shyly, but she seemed to be trying to conceal pain that was tormenting her. The grip of the Stone Light. The invisible claws that were stretching toward her heart.

  The Son of the Mother continued to tramp back and forth in the hall below. He was much too deep in his hate-filled thoughts to notice the goings-on up on the balcony. And he was still hesitant to destroy the body of his mother. His heavy breathing and snorting echoed back from the walls, and the cracking and shattering of the mirror floor under his claws sounded like icebergs splitting as they bumped together.

  Vermithrax was making an effort to keep his eye on the beast. But at the same time he kept looking over at the two girls. Serafin also crept away from the mirror edge to the others, gave Junipa a quick hug, and then turned to her four companions, who’d appeared behind her. The entire group had walked out of a mirror wall, on which the last ice patterns were gradually melting.

  Serafin greeted Dario, Tiziano, and Aristide. Dario and Tiziano were supporting Eft, whose right leg was emergency-splinted with a piece of wood; it looked as if someone had hacked it out of a bookcase with a blade, like an oversized splinter. Eft was pressing the lipless edges of her mermaid mouth firmly together. She was in pain, but she wasn’t complaining.

  “She insisted on coming to you,” explained Junipa, who’d noticed Serafin’s look. “I found her and the others in a library.”

  Merle gave the mermaid a warm smile over Junipa’s shoulder. For a moment the surroundings were overlaid by a scene from the past, a gondola ride at Eft’s side through a night-dark tunnel. “You have been touched by the Flowing Queen,” Eft had said that time. “You are something very special.”

  Merle shook off the image and turned to Junipa again. “What happened with Seth? I was so worried about you!”

  Junipa’s face darkened. “We were in Venice, Seth and I. We were with the Pharaoh.”

  “With the—”

  Junipa nodded. “Amenophis is dead. And the Empire has collapsed.”

  “Has Seth—”

  “Killed him, yes. After that he killed himself. But he let me go.”

  The Queen roused in Merle’s mind. “The sphinxes abandoned Amenophis. That is just like them! They used the Empire to awaken the Son of the Mother. And now they want to move on. They are not content with this one world.”

  Junipa grabbed Merle by the shoulder. “You weren’t really serious before, were you? What you said … or she did. Whoever.”

  Merle shook off her hand with a jerk. Her eyes avoided Junipa’s mirror gaze, slipped past her to the others. She felt as if she’d been driven into a corner from which there was no escape.

  “Without the Son of the Mother, the sphinxes have no power to leave our world,” she said, now turning to Junipa again, but still trying not to meet her eyes. “And if there is only one way to beat him … I have no choice, Junipa. No one here has.”

  Junipa shook her head in despair. “That’s not you talking!”

  “The Queen wanted all of you to know the truth, so that you could make the decision for me. But now I’m the one who is speaking. And I won’t allow someone else to decide. This is my affair alone, not yours.”

  “No!” Junipa seized her hand. “Let me do it, Merle. Tell her she can change into me.”

  “What nonsense!”

  “Not nonsense.” Junipa’s gaze was firm and full of determination. “It won’t be much longer until the Stone Light gains power over me again. I can feel it. It feels around and pulls on me. I don’t have much more time.”

  “Then go through the mirror into another world. The Light will have no more power over you there.”

  “I will not allow you to die. Look at me. My eyes aren’t human. My heart isn’t human. I’m a joke, Merle. A mean, bad joke.” She looked over at Serafin, who was listening very carefully to her every word. “Anyway, you have him, Merle. You have something to live for. But I? When you’re dead I have no one left.”

  “That is not true,” said Eft.

  Merle wrapped her arms tightly around Junipa, pressing her friend to her as hard as she could. “Look around you, Junipa. These are your friends. None of them will let you down.”

  Serafin stood there, torn. There must be another possibility. There simply must.

  “But you heard her,” Dario chimed in. “The Pharaoh is dead. That’s all that matters. The Empire is as good as defeated. And if the sphinxes really want to get out of here, so much the better for us. Why should they make out any better in other worlds than in ours? We survived, didn’t we? Others will also survive. That isn’t our affair. And not yours either, Merle.”

  She sent him a sad smile. She and Dario had never liked each other, but now it touched her that even he was trying to dissuade her from her decision. Serafin had done the right thing when he’d ended hostilities with Dario: Dario wasn’t a bad fellow. Even if he didn’t, couldn’t, grasp what she had to do.

  “We have no more time,” said the Flowing Queen. “The Son of the Mother will soon overcome his reluctance and destroy my body. Then it will be too late.”

  Merle released Junipa. “I must go now.”

  “No!” Junipa’s mirror eyes filled with tears. Merle had thought Junipa couldn’t cry at all.

  Merle reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the magic water mirror. She turned around and handed it to Lalapeya. “Here, I think this is yours. The phantom in it … promise me to let him go, if
you get out of here safely.”

  Lalapeya took the mirror in her bandaged hands. Her eyes were fastened on her daughter. “Don’t do it, Merle.”

  Merle embraced her. “Farewell.” Her voice threatened to choke on her tears, but she had them quickly under control. “I always knew that you were there somewhere.”

  Lalapeya’s face was pale and tight. She couldn’t believe that soon she would again lose the daughter she had just found. “It’s your decision, Merle.” She smiled nervously. “That’s the mistake all parents make, isn’t it? They don’t want to accept that their children can make their own decisions. But the way it looks, you leave me no other choice.”

  Merle blinked away her tears and hugged her mother one last time. Then she walked over to Eft and the others, said good-bye to them as well, again avoided Junipa’s unhappy eyes, and finally went over to Serafin.

  In the background, the Son of the Mother snorted and scraped in the depths of the mirrored temple. His raging sounded ever more furious, ever more impatient.

  Serafin took her in his arms and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I don’t want you to do this.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”

  “No … no, I guess not.”

  “We should never have gone into that house that night. Then all this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Merle felt the warmth that he was giving off. “If we hadn’t saved the Queen from the Egyptians … who knows what would have happened. Perhaps then everything would be looking even worse.”

  “But we would have had each other.”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “That would have been lovely.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the rest of the world.”

  Merle shook her head. “You do so, and you know it. Not even Dario meant what he said before. Maybe now. Maybe even tomorrow morning. But sometime he’s going to think differently about it. Just like you. Pain goes away. It always does.”

  “Let me go,” he said urgently. “If it’s possible for the Queen to cross over into me, then she can take my life strength to awaken her body.”

  “Why should I say yes to you if I said no to Junipa?”