Mountain of Black Glass

by Tad Williams

  But horizon, Renie decided, could not really be the right word. What horizon they could see was only the most distant parts of the House still visible—she could not help wondering for a moment whether the House-world curved like the natural globe, or was as flat as it was apparently infinite—but all around them stood the much more absorbing vista of the Spire Forest. It was obvious what had occasioned the name. Unlike Renie's other view of the House, which had been mostly flat rooftops, cupolas, and domes, what surrounded their tower windows was a profusion of vertical shapes in astounding variety—windowed obelisks, clock towers, attenuated pyramids and needle-thin spikes, Gothic protrusions clotted with dark carvings, even vast crenellated belvederes so ornate they looked like entire castles perched in the sky. Even in the dim light, Renie could count hundreds of the spires looming far above the House's sea of roofs.

  "I know the names of some, but not all," Factum Quintus said. "Many of the older names are lost forever, unless we find them perhaps in the translation of old books. That tall thin one is Cupboard's Dagger. Nearer is Weeping Baron's Tower, and closer still is one called Jelliver's Heart, for reasons no one knows. I think that more elaborate shape in the distance might be the Pinnacle of the Garden Kings—yes, it seems to have the famous carbuncles, much argued about in their day—although it is too dark to be sure."

  "And . . . and our friend is in one of these?" she said at last.

  "It seems likely. And her abductor as well, which is why we want to see rather than be seen, and thus needed to arrive here while darkness remained. But there is another serious problem, I'm afraid." Brother Factum Quintus' worried look, though sincere, did not entirely overshadow the fascinated gleam in his eyes as he surveyed the garden of spikes just warming into three-dimensionality with the sun's first rays. "The piece of figured plaster that began this search tells me your friend's captor has likely passed through the long corridors built during the Alliance of Chambers era, which link most of these towers. It stands to reason that a criminal would pick one of these high spots as a lair—an 'eyrie' would be a better term, perhaps—since they are remote and yet still close to the Library. But as to which of all these actually contains your friend . . . I'm afraid I have no idea at all."

  "That's ridiculous," Renie told them flatly. "It's too risky." She was exhausted, desperate for sleep, but this had to be dealt with now. "We can't afford to search with anything less than our full numbers. That's how that monster got Martine in the first place, when she fell behind us—culled her from the herd like a lion taking an antelope."

  "But what he says makes sense, Renie. . . ." Florimel began.

  "No! I can't accept it."

  !Xabbu sidled across the floor of the dusty chamber, not quite upright, but not on all fours, blurring the difference between his real inner self and his sim body in a way that always made her nervous. "I appreciate that you are concerned for me, my friend, but I believe it is the best way."

  Her fatigue was making her stupidly stubborn—it was hard to argue with !Xabbu's logic—but Renie would not let go easily. "So we're supposed to just let you go off by yourself? Not just after a murderer, but climbing around hundreds of feet above the ground?"

  "Can we six this so I can get some 'zontal?" T4b snarled. "He's a monkey, seen? Monkeys climb."

  Helplessly looking for allies, Renie turned to Factum Quintus, who shrugged. "It is not my argument," he said. "But as I told you, it will take us days to walk up and down corridors and stairs, searching all these towers on foot, and in very few of them would we be able to reach the upper rooms without warning any occupants."

  Renie clenched her teeth, biting back an angry reply that would convince no one. It was useless to antagonize her friends. The most pressing argument of all was one she could not make, not without announcing her own selfishness: she was terrified she might lose !Xabbu. After all they had experienced together, she could not imagine where she might find the strength to go on without him. With Stephen as good as dead, the small man was the closest thing she had to loving family.

  "We are tired, Renie." Florimel was clearly finding it difficult to keep resentment out of her voice. "We must sleep."

  "But. . . ."

  "She is right," !Xabbu said. "I will not change my mind, but it may look different to you after you have rested. I will take first watch—I shall not go anywhere until it is dark, in any case, so we can sleep through as much of the day as we need."

  "I don't want to sleep." It was Emily, her voice tremulous. "I want to go home. I . . . I hate this place."

  Renie fought for patience. "You've been in worse."

  "No." The girl sounded quite certain. "It makes me feel sick to be here. It's bad for my baby, too."

  Renie wondered if there was something going on that they did not understand, but had no strength to pursue it. "I'm sorry, Emily. We'll leave as soon as we can get our friend Martine back."

  "Don't want to stay here at all," Emily grumbled, but quietly, like a child back-talking a parent who had already left the room.

  "Sleep," Florimel grunted. "Sleep while you can."

  The minutes of silence that followed were not restful ones, and the sleep Florimel recommended seemed impossibly distant. Renie realized she was clenching and unclenching her fists. She could sense !Xabbu looking at her, but she did not want to meet his eyes, even when he sidled closer.

  "There is a story my people tell," he said to her quietly. "Perhaps you would like to hear it?"

  "I would enjoy hearing it, too," announced Brother Factum Quintus, "—oh, that is if I am not being rude!" he added hurriedly, but he was clearly abrim with anthropological interest. Renie could not help wondering in what sort of scholarly archive !Xabbu's tale might end up, another thread in the strange tapestry that was the House. "And if the others don't mind, of course."

  T4b groaned in a way that confirmed for Renie once and for all that he truly was a teenager, but despite the noise of protest, did not actually object.

  "Does what we others think matter at this point?" Florimel grumbled.

  "It is a good story," !Xabbu assured them. "One of my people's favorites. It is about Beetle and Striped Mouse." He paused and settled himself in a comfortable position, sitting on his haunches. They had drawn the chamber's heavy curtains—unlike the tower room above, it had only one window—but a thin spear of morning light had found its way through a gap in the fabric. Floating dust shimmered in the beam like silver.

  "Beetle was a very beautiful young woman," he began. "All the young men would have tried to make her their own, but her father Lizard was a sour old man and did not want his daughter to leave him. He put her in his house, a hole deep under the earth, and would not let her out into the sunlight. He would let no man court her.

  "All of the First People went to Grandfather Mantis to complain, saying that it was unfair for old Lizard to keep a lovely young woman like Beetle hidden away so that none of their sons could marry her and her beauty was not shared. Grandfather Mantis sent them away, saying he must consider what they said.

  "That night, Mantis had a dream. He dreamed that Lizard had taken the moon down into his hole in the earth as well, and that without it in the night sky, the First People were lost and terrified. When he awakened, he decided that he could not allow Lizard to hide his daughter away.

  "Mantis sent for Long-Nosed Mouse, who was a beautiful fellow, and told him what had happened. 'It is for you to find the place she is hidden,' Grandfather Mantis said. Long-Nosed Mouse was one of the best of all the First People at finding things, so he agreed, and went in search of Lizard's daughter.

  "When at last Long-Nosed Mouse came near the hole in the earth, Beetle saw him. In her excitement, she could not help herself. She called out, 'Look, look, a man is coming!' Her father heard this cry, and when Long-Nosed Mouse entered into the earth, Lizard fell upon him in the dark and killed him.

  " 'Who shall tell a father what he may and may not do?' said Lizard. He was so proud and happy he did
a dance. Beetle wept.

  "When Mantis heard what had happened he was sad and afraid. The kinsmen of Long-Nose Mouse heard also, and one by one they went down into Lizard's hole to avenge their brother, but Lizard lay hidden until each one was lost in the dark tunnels, then fell upon him and killed him. Soon all of the men of the long-nosed mice had been slain. Their wives and children set up a great cry of mourning so loud that it pained Grandfather Mantis, so loud that he could not sleep for three days.

  "When at last he fell asleep, he had another dream, and when he awakened from it he called all his people together. 'In my dream I have seen Lizard killing the long-nosed mice, and that is something that cannot be. In my dream I have spoken to myself, and I have thought much, and I find that it is the Striped Mouse who must now go and save the young woman, Beetle.'

  "Striped Mouse was young, quiet, and clever, and he knew that the dreams of Mantis could not be ignored. 'I will go,' he said and set out. But when he came to the place where Lizard lived, and where so many had fallen before him, Striped Mouse thought, 'Why should I go down that hole into the dark, when I know Lizard is waiting? I will dig a hole of my own.' And so he did, scratching his way into the earth, for the Striped Mouse is a good digger, until he came at last into the tunnel where Lizard lay in wait. But because he had been quiet and clever. Striped Mouse had dug his own hole in behind the place where Lizard was, and so he was able to fall upon Lizard from behind. Long they fought, until Striped Mouse at last began to win out.

  "Lizard shouted in fear and unhappiness, 'Why do you kill me? Why do you raise your hand against me?'

  " 'I am, by myself, killing to save friends,' cried Striped Mouse, and with that Lizard fell dead before him. Striped Mouse found Beetle, and although she was frightened he led her forth out of the hole and into the light. As he did that, a wonderful thing happened, for all the long-nosed mice who had fallen came back to life, crying 'I am here!' Each stepped out into the sunlight behind Striped Mouse and Beetle, each one carrying a fly-whisk, which he lifted over his head like a flag. Striped Mouse was very proud as he walked beside Beetle, and happiness was great inside both of them, because he already felt himself to be the husband of the young woman, and she felt herself to be his utterly.

  "When they reached Mantis, he got up and followed them. As they came to the village where the long-nosed mice had lived, waving their fly-whisks, the grass of the plain began to wave, too. All the wives and children of the long-nosed mice came rushing out, making glad cries to see that their men were alive again, and Grandfather Mantis watched with amazement and joy, not a little surprised by how well he had dreamed."

  Oddly enough, Renie did feel more relaxed as !Xabbu finished his story, but she could not entirely free herself of nagging worries. "It was a lovely story," she told him, "but I'd still like to try to think of some other way to search for Martine."

  Even after all this time, it was still a little hard to read the baboon expressions, but he seemed to be smiling. "But that is what my story is about, Renie. Some tasks can only be done by one person—by the right person. I feel that I am that person. And sometimes, as the story also tells, we must all trust in the dream that is dreaming us."

  There was nothing to argue with—no crevice into which she could get the fingernails of logic—and exhaustion was weighing heavily on her. Renie yawned, tried to speak, but yawned again.

  "We'll talk about it when you wake up . . . when you wake me up for my turn at sentry," she said, starting to stumble over her words.

  "You sleep now," he said. "Look—the others are sleeping already."

  She did not bother to look. She could hear the steady rasp of Florimel's breath a meter away, and the longer she listened, the more it seemed to pull her down, down, down.

  "He's what!" She shook off the lethargy of waking, her heart suddenly tight as knotted wire in her chest. "The bastard! He told me we would talk about it some more!"

  "He waited until dark, but he was determined, Renie." Florimel had been the final sentry, and thus the only one to see !Xabbu leave. He had never wakened Renie. "You could not have stopped him—you could only have made it more difficult."

  Renie was furious, but she knew that Florimel was right. "I'm just . . . what if we lose him, too? We're falling apart, fragmenting. . . ."

  Florimel took her arm in a tight grip. Afternoon light was leaking in through the drapes: it was easy to see the other woman's face, hard to ignore her anger. "The others are waking up. They do not need to hear such things from you of all people."

  "But you know I'm right." Renie shook her head. This was the problem with holding so tightly onto control as everything pulled harder and harder against it—when things began to slip, the temptation simply to give up was very strong. "Quan Li and William and Martine already gone, not to mention Orlando and Fredericks—and now !Xabbu. What's the point? Is it going to come down to you and me arguing about which cliff we should jump off?"

  Florimel's laugh was sudden and unexpected. "It would probably be a long argument, Renie. I'm sure I would be a much better judge of cliffs."

  It took a moment for Renie to realize Florimel had made a joke—the German woman was turning into a regular comedienne. Renie felt a bleak amusement of her own. Perhaps as the group shrank, everyone would begin to take on new roles. What would be next, T4b as the group's diplomat? Emily as the sergeant-at-arms? "I don't think I'll have the energy to argue, Florimel," Renie said at last, and did her best to smile. "Tell you what—I promise I'll let you pick the cliff."

  "Bravely spoken, soldier." Florimel smiled back and patted her on the shoulder. Her clumsiness with the friendly gesture made Renie suddenly like her more than she ever had before.

  "Right," she said. "So we wait. Jesus Mercy, I hate waiting! But if we can't do anything about !Xabbu, we can at least plan what we want to do when we hear from him, I suppose."

  "Why are we here?" Emily said groggily from the bench, where she had pillowed herself in what seemed a fairly uncomfortable way on T4b. "I don't want to be here anymore."

  "Of course you don't." Renie sighed. "But the rest of us are having such a lovely time, we thought we'd stay."

  Renie's improved spirits did not last long. Although they used the time waiting for !Xabbu's return to scavenge a few weapons—splintered table legs and heavy curtain rods for clubs and spears, even a ceremonial sword found hanging neglected in an alcove in one of the lower halls—there was only so much planning and preparation they could do. As evening passed into night, and night itself stretched on and on with no sign of the man in the baboon sim, the tightness in Renie's chest became overwhelming.

  "I told you we shouldn't have let him go by himself!"

  Florimel shook her head. "He has many towers to investigate. And even if something happens to him—and of course we all pray it does not—that would not make his plan wrong. The rest of us cannot go where he can go, wearing that body."

  Renie knew it was true, but that did nothing to alleviate the helplessness, the terrible, despairing pressure building inside her. "So what do we do? Just sit here until doomsday, knowing that monster probably has both of them now?"

  Factum Quintus looked up. "Unlike your monkey friend, we do not need darkness to search," he said. "In fact, we will do better in daytime, since we will be able to see which hallways are full of undisturbed dust—I have noticed a few such in our exploration this evening."

  "So if !Xabbu isn't back by dawn," Renie said, "we can start looking." It was amazing how much relief came from the simple notion of doing something.

  "Then let us all try to get some more sleep now," Florimel said. "We have been working hard since your friend left us and we are still tired. We do not know what a search will lead us to."

  "Talkin' smart," T4b agreed. "Like wearing a car, this armor."

  "So take it off," Renie growled.

  "You crash for total?" T4b said, shocked. "Like, fly around dangling my churrol"

  Emily giggled. Renie waved her
hand in disgust and went back to sharpening the end of her curtain rod on the exposed stone wall.

  Night crept on, but no one could sleep. !Xabbu did not return. At last, everyone had run out of things to do, and sat, wrapped in silent thoughts and worries. Outside, the moon passed slowly over the Spire Forest, as though trying not to prick itself on the thorny towers.

  "Code Delphi. Start here. "Something strange and frightening has happened. Even now I find it difficult to speak, but I doubt I have much time so I must use this chance.

  "The monster who had impersonated Quan Li, the thing that calls itself 'Dread,' has been working me hard, exploring the nature of the access device. Some of his questions are so strange and unexpected that I am certain now he is consulting outside sources as well—not surprising since, unlike us, he can leave the network and then return to his stolen sim whenever he pleases. But there has been an edge to his explorations as well. I think it likely that he is using the outside knowledge in large part to test me—to make sure I am giving him legitimate data. Fortunately, although I lied about how we came to the House, I have been honest in all my other discussions of the access device. He is too frighteningly clever for me to risk trying to trick him, and I do not fool myself he will keep me alive an instant longer than suits him.

  "But no, this is not what I wished to record. In my upset state, I have gone about these thoughts wrong-way 'round, since Dread is not the subject. When I awakened a little while ago from a short, exhausted sleep, he had disappeared again, perhaps to confer with his other sources, and I was alone. Or so I thought.

  "As I went through my groggy ritual, checking more in reflex than in hope to see if I was still securely tied to the fixture above my head and that the thing itself was still firmly attached to the wall, I only slowly became aware that something in my prison room was different. It did not remain a mystery for long, though. There were now two corpses leaning against the wall, sharing my captivity.