Axis and Isaiah turned as one, striding toward the door leading to the command chamber.
But in the instant before they reached it, Inardle cried out again, more urgently this time.
“No! No! Wait!”
They halted, turning to stare at her.
Inardle was back at the balcony railing, but this time she was staring wildly out at the countryside beyond the Lealfast circles.
“The Skraelings are here,” she said. “I can’t see them but I can feel them. I —”
“Look!” Maximilian said, pointing toward the hill on which Eleanon stood.
Eleanon, who had to this point kept perfect time with his hands, now faltered, looking about as if confused.
Then, in the next heartbeat, millions upon millions of Skraelings materialised out of nowhere, filling the landscape as far as the eye could see.
Chapter 18
Elcho Falling
One moment Eleanon was standing clapping rhythmically, grinning as he watched the roots of the Dark Spire begin to tear apart Elcho Falling, the next moment he was being jostled by scores of Skraelings, packed tightly together. It took Eleanon several heartbeats to overcome the sense of disorientation and shock, then another several to free his wings from the packed bodies and manage to lift into the air.
What was happening? What were all these . . . millions . . . of Skraelings doing here?
Eleanon could not believe it. Where had they come from? How had they materialised right within the midst of the Lealfast circles without anyone realising?
And what were they doing? Why did they look so different? Were they here as friend, or as foe?
Eleanon’s mind buzzed with unanswerable questions and a growing sense of perplexity mixed with anger. He rose a further ten paces into the air.
He could see that the majority of Lealfast had managed to get airborne, although Eleanon wouldn’t have been surprised if a few had managed to get themselves crushed underneath the sheer weight and volume of Skraeling feet. Stars, they were everywhere! Everywhere! Encircling the entire lake, packed tightly together, all facing toward the lake, forty, fifty, sixty deep.
Eleanon hovered, trying to recover his wits, trying not to allow his temper to scream forth and precipitate him into some unhappy action.
“What is happening?”
It was Falayal, hovering nearby.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Eleanon said, then realised it was the wrong thing to say as he watched Falayal’s face close over.
“I am about to find out,” he amended, then flew away, searching among the Skraelings for some kind of leader.
“Gods,” Maximilian muttered, hands on balcony railing, staring out at the scene.
“Maxel?” It was Ishbel, hurrying onto the balcony.
“Skraelings . . . ” Maximilian said, extending a hand. “Everywhere.”
“What are they going to do?” Ishbel said.
“Change back to River Angels,” Isaiah said, “but whether or not that will help us, I do not know.”
“They say they will not harm us,” Inardle said, and everyone turned about to face her.
“You are speaking with them?” Maximilian asked.
“With Ozll, who speaks for all the Skraelings,” Inardle said. She had a distracted look on her face, as if she found it difficult carrying on two conversations at once.
Axis opened his mouth to say something, but Maximilian waved him to silence. Wait, he mouthed.
“Ozll says they will not become who they once were,” Inardle said. “He means, that while they will change back to River Angels, they will not be the River Angels of old. They will defend themselves, but they will never seek to harm or to murder without provocation. Ozll says they have sworn themselves to peace.”
Inardle blinked, as if Ozll had stopped speaking and she now found the time to concentrate entirely on the conversation with those standing about her. “They will do nothing to aid us, I am afraid. They just want to change, to slip into the water and let death do to them what it wants, but after that . . . nothing. They will simply exist within the water. Whether Elcho Falling remains or falls, it is of no matter to them.”
“Do they not know what Elcho Falling will become under Eleanon’s guiding hand?” Ishbel cried. “Do they not understand that —”
“They understand,” Inardle said. “They just do not care. It is not their fight. It is not their matter. But they wish us well and they wish us happiness.”
Axis turned away, muttering a curse. “We should never have trusted them, or thought them allies. I am not surprised that they should now seek to murder us through their inaction. Stars! They could slaughter the Lealfast within moments . . . could have done if they had acted immediately when they materialised. Why couldn’t they have —”
“Axis,” Maximilian murmured.
Inardle gave a little tilt of her shoulders. “I am sorry, Axis. If it wasn’t for me . . . if I hadn’t murdered . . . They were so distraught by what I had done in my River Angel form they swore a vow of peacefulness. They will not attack for any reason, save if they are attacked themselves. They will self-defend, but never do harm for others, however glorious the cause.”
“They swore that vow just to see us dead,” Axis hissed.
“You! Youf Eleanon drifted lower to the ground, toward a Skraeling who seemed to have a slight aura of command.
At least, there was the tiniest of spaces about him and those Skraelings closest seemed to defer to him.
Eleanon landed. “Your name?”
“Ozll,” said the Skraeling. “Hello, Eleanon.”
Eleanon was in no mood for the niceties of polite social interaction.
“Are you here to fight for the Lord of Elcho Falling?” he said, using his elbows to shove aside any Skraeling who pressed too close.
“No,” Ozll said.
“To fight for me?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing? The One is gone. There is no need to trail about looking for him. There’s no reason for you to be here. Go. Go!”
“We won’t take long,” Ozll said. “Then we’ll be out of your way.”
Eleanon felt like striking out in his frustration. “You won’t take long to do what?”
“Drown ourselves,” Ozll said.
Then, before Eleanon could make any response other than an incredulous look, Ozll gave the most heart-rending moan that carried over the entire mass of Skraelings about Elcho Falling’s lake.
Eleanon looked around, then at Ozll. “Drown yourselves? You want to drown yourselves? Then go right ahead. Would you like me to push you? Eh? Just do it, Ozll, and get the fuck out of my way!”
The world, he decided, had gone completely to madness.
They saw Eleanon lift away just after Ozll had moaned, and then, as Eleanon rose higher, the entire mass of Skraelings echoed Ozll’s moan. It reverberated through Elcho Falling, causing more than a few pieces of masonry to fall into the lake, and making Inardle groan in sympathy.
“Gods, gods,” she muttered, sinking into a squatting position on the floor of the balcony, her hands over her ears. “They are so sad!”
Everyone else only had eyes for the Skraelings. Immediately after that collective moan, the mass of Skraelings surged toward the water. As soon as the first of them entered the water, they began to scream, and then every single Skraeling was screaming, and all on the balcony and in the air and within Elcho Falling groaned and turned away from the horror.
“They are so scared!” Inardle said. “So terrified . . . can’t you feel it? Can’t you?”
Axis had reeled back against the outer wall of Elcho Falling. He had his hands against his ears and his face was contorted by the agony and fear he felt rising in great waves from the mass suicide below him. The Skraelings might have been terrified, but they were scrabbling over their comrades in order to reach water, wave after wave of them, rushing into death as fast as they could.
The lake began to s
eethe and bubble with their dying.
Eleanon hovered above the tangled, writhing mass of dying creatures, unable to believe what he was witnessing.
What had got into them?
And in the end, who cared? They’d all be dead soon enough and, apart from the stink of their decomposing bodies, they’d be no trouble to anyone ever again.
Eleanon could certainly do without them. They’d never been anything but a trouble.
He waved to Falayal. “Start to reassemble our fellows. This shouldn’t take long, and then we can get back to the matter at hand.”
Bodies of Skraelings sank deep into the lake. They wanted to float, but there was such a dense mass of dead and dying bodies above them that they were forced toward the bottom of the lake.
On the shores, the final few, desperate Skraelings had managed to trample over the corpses of their comrades and throw themselves into the lake.
Water began to fill their lungs.
Memories resurfaced. Memories of the water, and how it felt to be one with the water. How it had felt to dance through sun-dappled and storm-darkened rivers, and how it had felt to have the life-force of the water run through their entire beings.
How it felt to have the power of water in their hands and hearts and minds.
How it felt to sing with the water and to manipulate that song.
As they sank through death the Skraelings remembered, and as they remembered, so their corpses twitched and breathed in deeply of their element.
As they remembered, so they changed,
The watchers from Elcho Falling saw it first, but Eleanon was not far behind. One moment there was nothing but deep-packed Skraeling corpses extending far into and under the lake.
The next . . . the next there were rivers of light running through the water as one by one the Skraeling corpses metamorphosed.
Eleanon had alighted on the (now gratefully uncrowded) shores of the lake and stood, looking on with a frown.
What was happening now?
He took a step forward, then another, then more, until he was but three or four paces from the edge of the water.
The water was seething, but Eleanon could not quite make out what it was. It looked almost as if . . . as if .
Then, in one heart-stopping, shocking moment, a column of water reared up from the lake a pace or so away. It had eyes and features, although none of the features were clearly distinguishable, but Eleanon recognised it instantly.
It was what Inardle had turned herself into when she’d attacked Eleanon and his small group.
And Eleanon realised, as more and more columns reared up before plunging back under the surface of the water, that all the Skraelings had transformed themselves into these terrifying creatures, and that there were millions upon millions of these things in the water, and they would undoubtedly attack him as Inardle had once attacked.
With stunning, deadly force.
Ozll, or whatever he was now, had tricked him. He had only claimed to be peaceable so that Eleanon would grant the Skraelings free access to the lake.
No, they would attack, and they would do it within moments.
Eleanon panicked.
The One, watching, almost panicked himself. He realised what Eleanon was about to do, and knew that it would be the death of him if he were caught.
Damn it! Why hadn’t he killed Eleanon a long time ago, when he’d had the chance? The man was incapable of responsible action!
The One had no choice now but to leave the comfort and safety of the Dark Spire. It was earlier than he’d planned, but needs must.
His hands pressed against the tip of the spire, bringing the full force of Infinity to bear on the structure.
He may as well make a grand entrance.
Chapter 19
Elcho Falling
Eleanon stumbled backward, one small part of his mind petrified that the water creatures would murder him as Inardle had murdered his fellows, but the major part engaged in the one activity he was certain would save him and the rest of the Lealfast.
He communicated with the Dark Spire, screaming at it, demanding that it attack the creatures now within the lake surrounding Elcho Falling.
Ozll might want to murder the Lealfast, but the Skraeling had severely underestimated the power now at Eleanon’s disposal.
The Skraelings had always been stupid.
The River Angels frolicked in the water. They had been reborn only a short while, but they felt that their life as the Skraelings was so far behind them it was scarcely a distant memory.
The lake was deep and wide, and it contained the millions of River Angels easily, but even so, the River Angels began to whisper among themselves about perhaps investigating some of the small streams that fed into the lake . . . and if those streams might somewhere connect with larger rivers .
Their reborn lives were filled only with happiness and relief and hope, and that was all they desired.
Until something rose from the lake bed.
At first the River Angels ignored it, this dark-tentacled creature that reached toward the sunlight, but then the tentacles began to snatch at the River Angels and squeeze them and pain them.
Many of the River Angels so caught managed to slither free, but some did not, and they died crushed within tightening dark coils and then left to drift broken and lifeless in the lake’s currents.
The reaction of the River Angels was instant and it was as if they acted as one entity. They were under attack for no other reason, it seemed, than that they existed and this dark creature wanted them dead. They had done nothing to provoke or warrant such an attack.
And so, they defended themselves.
Tens of thousands of them clung to each of the Dark Spire’s roots. The roots cracked through the water, trying to dislodge the River Angels, but to no avail. The River Angels clung with tenacious purpose, running their strangely-shaped hands along the surface of the dark roots, further and further along, and everywhere those hands touched, so the dark root crumbled.
As the dark roots crumbled one by one, so the River Angels slithered further along, seeking as yet untouched parts of the roots to destroy.
“What is happening?” Maximilian said, leaning as far as he dared over the edge of the balcony. “What in the gods’ names is happening?”
Below, the surface of the lake churned. The roots of the Dark Spire broke the surface, each covered with some sort of gelatinous substance. As those within Elcho Falling watched, it seemed that every time the roots broke the surface, they were just that little less . . . intact.
“Eleanon commanded the Dark Spire to attack the River Angels,” Inardle said. “He panicked. He remembered the time I had attacked his group and thought the River Angels would thus attack the Lealfast.”
Axis stared at her, then actually grinned. “He thought what? He had no idea that the River Angels were harmless?”
Inardle shook her head. “I don’t think so. They must not have told him.”
“Maximilian!”
Everyone turned. It was Ravenna, breathing heavily from her rush to reach Maximilian.
“The One is on the move,” she said. “If you want this plan to succeed, Maximilian, then Ishbel needs to —”
She was interrupted by the arrival of Ishbel herself, who put a hand on Ravenna’s shoulder.
“Get down to the spire,” she said. “I will do what needs to be done while you run down the staircase. Go, Ravenna, go!”
Ravenna gave Ishbel one hard look, then turned and ran.
“Gods pray we can trust her,” Ishbel muttered. She walked over to Maximilian and put her hands on his shoulders. “I am sorry this can’t be done with more ceremony, my love.”
Then her hands tightened on his shoulders, and her eyes narrowed in concentration.
Axis, watching, thought that Ishbel would weave some mighty spell, speak words of heavy portent and bleak enchantment. But all that he saw or heard was Maximilian’s widened eyes, his staggering backward a
step before catching his balance.
Tears welled in Ishbel’s eyes and she caught Maximilian in a brief, tight embrace before she whipped about to Axis.
“Axis,” she said, “I will need to be the one to transfer you and your men now and it comes with a condition. I am coming with you.”
“Ishbel!” Maximilian and Axis said together, but Ishbel forestalled any further protest.
“I must go with him!” she said to Maximilian. “If you have any sense, Maxel, you’ll damned well know why!”
The River Angels seethed along the roots, their determination only growing the more they destroyed. They understood now that these tentacles were only a small part of something much larger and darker, and it was this larger entity they now attacked.
They wanted to live their lives in peace in the water, and to achieve that, this jealous, hateful creature which had launched such an unprovoked attack upon them needed to be negated. So they seethed up the roots, millions of them, covering every available surface of every last one of the roots, and as they destroyed the roots, so they worked their way into the unprotected underbelly of the Dark Spire.
Ravenna came to a breathless halt, grabbing at a piece of broken handrail just before her momentum plummeted her into the space just above the tip of the Dark Spire.
The Dark Spire was slowly collapsing in on itself as if it were being destroyed from within. Its sides were deflating inward, and the very tip of the spire tilted to one side, as if it were losing whatever structural support was needed to keep it upright.
But that tip was also bulging and glowing ominously red, and Ravenna felt a pang of true dread.
The One.
For a moment she considered running, but then she forced herself to tighten her hands on the handrail and to summon forth every last piece of power she commanded as a marsh witch.
It was almost time, The baby within her now throbbed with the power of Elcho Falling,
Ravenna closed her eyes briefly, visualising the paths into the Land of Nightmares, then she opened them again, concentrating on the very tip of the collapsing spire.