“Come,” I said, and pulled both men to their feet. “Let us sit where it is more comfortable. You are both too old to squat so abandoned on the floor.”
It was a bad attempt at humour, but Zabrze and Boaz seemed grateful for it. They sat at the table, and I lifted the boxed book and the goblet down and placed them before Boaz.
“You always knew, Boaz,” I said. “You did.”
It was a relief for him to finally admit it.
“Yes, although for a long time I did not realise what it was.” His voice was very quiet, and he kept his eyes on the box. “I felt so abandoned when my mother died. I had no-one to turn to…”
I glanced at Zabrze. The man’s face was distraught, and I touched his hand.
“…and one day a Magus came to talk to me. He said that the power of the One was a wondrous thing and that if I opened myself to it then I would never be alone. It sounded…a relief. I threw myself body and soul,” his mouth quirked at the unintentional pun, “into the study of the One. It appeared to be everything that I needed. Solace. Company – the company and community of the Magi as well as the One. Power. That appealed to me.”
“Maybe you were yearning to understand your own power, Boaz,” I said, “and misunderstood the yearning.”
“Maybe. Whatever, it did not take much to push me into a singular dedication to the One. I learned easily, the Magi were proud of me. Even Chad-Nezzar was, I think, for I was an orphan boy who had no grand inheritance. Let the Magi have me, he said, and take care of my education.”
“When did you begin to realise that there were depths to you that were different?” I asked. Now both my hands were wrapped about one of Boaz’s.
“About twenty. I realised that when I touched certain things – glass, metal – they whispered to me. I knew what it was immediately. And I knew that Elemental magic was bad, corrupt, foul. So I believed myself to be bad, corrupt, foul. Tirzah, Zabrze, you’ll never know what years of horror I went through. I built walls and fortresses that I hid behind. I became the perfect Magus. It took me five, six, seven years, but I did it. Eventually I believed that I’d killed whatever it was that had so corrupted me.”
“But you still dreamed of the Song of the Frogs,” I said.
“Rarely, Tirzah. Or maybe I so blocked the dreams from my conscious mind that I do not remember them. I was inviolate. The perfect Magus. Until you carved those cursed frogs for me in Setkoth.”
Zabrze looked puzzled, and I told him briefly how I’d carved the glass on my arrival in Setkoth. He nodded, and told Boaz how the frogs had screamed on his father’s death.
“Well,” Zabrze said eventually, sitting back. “What to do now?”
“Destroy Threshold,” I said firmly. “We must.”
Boaz was silent.
“We must,” I said again. “Will you not yet admit its wrongness, Boaz? Will you yet deny it?”
He dropped his eyes. “No. No, it is wrong. But apart from physically pulling Threshold down…I cannot think how…”
“Boaz,” I asked, “what is Threshold’s wrongness?”
“It is the power that it draws upon, I suppose,” he said.
“The Vale,” I said, remembering.
“The Vale?” Zabrze asked. “I have only barely heard of it.”
“It is,” Boaz began slowly, thinking it through, “a well of power. The Magi have known of its existence, and have known of the power it contained. We always thought it the well of Creation, the void out of which the universe and all it contains sprang. We thought to tap it. Threshold – or, more correctly, the Infinity Chamber – would then become the bridge into Infinity and immortality.”
“Boaz,” I said, my horror mounting. “What if something were to come through the other way? What if something in the Vale used Threshold as a bridge into this world?”
Silence.
“Damn you, brother!” Zabrze said, and grasped Boaz by the arm. “What have you done?”
“Am I to blame for the entire history of Threshold?” Boaz snapped, wrenching his arm away. “Threshold was conceived and begun long before Avaldamon arrived to beget me. I have overseen the final days of its completion, nothing else! Do not blame Threshold on me!”
“Then oversee its destruction, brother!”
Boaz looked out the window. “Too late, Zabrze. It has begun.”
I turned to look outside. Dawn light was filtering through the hanging vines about the verandah. How long had we been talking?
“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”
Boaz looked back to Zabrze. “Threshold will awaken to its full power when the sun is directly overhead. Noon. When light will flood the Infinity Chamber. There is nothing we can do to stop the process now.”
“But I thought,” I said, “the rites…surely if you do not conduct the Consecration Day rites…”
Boaz shook his head. “The rites were for two purposes only. One, for show. Everyone expected some sort of rite once Threshold was completed. The Consecration Rites were designed to fit that need. The rites would be grand to make the Magi look grander. And two, and far more importantly, the rites were designed to have at least some of the Magi in or near the Infinity Chamber when the sun seared through. We wanted to be first.”
“Thus your insistence that you conduct the rites,” I said quietly. He had been going to leave me. Leave me for Infinity and all it promised.
“‘Insistence’ is too pleasant a word for it, Tirzah. No, whichever way you look at it, the lack of rites is not going to make the slightest bit of difference to whether Threshold finally awakes or not. Whatever happens, once the sun reaches its full strength…”
“So we physically destroy it,” Zabrze said firmly, and Boaz laughed harshly.
“Destroy it, Zabrze? It has taken eight generations to build, and we have some six hours to pull it down.”
“I have an army.”
“And do you trust them? The power of the One is strong among the military. The Magi have been cultivating it for years, decades, anticipating that Chad-Nezzar might try to use the army to seize Threshold for himself. And the promise, the thrall, of power is going to make many stay their hand.”
Zabrze was tellingly silent, and I thought of the respect the officer on duty at Threshold had shown for Boaz last night.
“And,” Boaz said quietly. “I doubt very much that Threshold would allow itself to be destroyed. You have seen demonstrations of its power. If any came near it with a mallet…”
“Nevertheless,” Zabrze said, “we must try.”
And then I remembered one of his officers talking so quietly with Azam. “Great Lord…”
“Yes, I know,” he said. “We must make use of Yaqob.”
Again silence. This man would make a great Chad, I thought, for he constantly outwits all those about him.
“Yaqob?” Boaz asked, a decided edge to his voice.
“Boaz,” I said gently. Boaz disliked Yaqob for many reasons other than that he might be an Elemental. “The slaves will fight to destroy Threshold. They know full well how wrong, how dark, it is.”
“And they are planning a revolt, anyway,” Zabrze finished.
“And why does that not surprise me?” Boaz muttered. “But how is it that you know this, Zabrze?”
“Shetzah, Boaz! I cannot think how you can spend so much time in Setkoth and still be so unaware of court intrigue!” Zabrze leaned forward. “I came down here fully expecting trouble – from several quarters. I’d heard the rumours about Threshold, about the ‘accidents’ on site, so I certainly expected trouble from the pyramid itself – I did not realise then how bad it would be. I also knew that Chad-Nezzar had a tenuous idea about seizing Threshold for his own use, and I knew that the Magi and the power of the Magi had infiltrated much of the army, how much I wasn’t sure, but enough that I no longer trust much of my command. And then, here we were sailing into an encampment of slaves unsure of their future. Of course I expected some kind of revolt, or at least a plot for one!”
&n
bsp; “And so you came prepared to put that down?” Boaz asked.
“No,” Zabrze said, staring at his brother, “I came half-expecting to use them as allies.”
“I saw one of your officers talking to a man I know is involved in the plot,” I said.
“Yes.”
“But how did you know so quickly?” I asked. “Your men had been here barely two hours before I saw –”
“I told Prince Zabrze, Tirzah,” said a voice, and I looked about, wondering when the shocks were about to stop.
“I told him.”
“Kiamet?” Boaz said, his voice angry.
“My brother is Azam,” Kiamet said. “No-one knew that. No-one.”
Gods. I dropped my face into one hand.
“Kiamet has been a very useful man,” Zabrze said quietly. “Very.”
“Azam pressured me for information,” Kiamet said. “But I would not give it to him. I,” he hesitated, his eyes pleading to Boaz for understanding, “I would not betray you, My Lord.”
“But you did not hesitate to work for my brother,” Boaz said bitterly.
“Oh, Boaz, be sensible!” Zabrze said. “You should have realised! Kiamet was not one of those guards who has been here under Magi influence for years. He came down with the soldiers when Chad-Nezzar came here some months ago. He has always been my man.”
“And yet, Boaz,” I said, thinking it through, “there is much he could have reported to Zabrze about both you and me, but did not. Think about it. He has been more loyal to us than is immediately apparent.”
Kiamet shot a grateful look my way. I returned it. He could have told Azam about what I’d been doing in this residence, what I’d been learning. But he had not.
“It has not always been easy,” Kiamet said simply.
Boaz nodded, accepting it. “Now what?”
“Now we see just how many we can rally to aid us,” Zabrze said, and stood. “Perhaps if we can raise a thousand or more then we might mount an assault on Threshold itself. Smash the capstone, even the Infinity Chamber. Stop it.”
“But –” Boaz began.
“But if we can’t,” Zabrze looked at me, “Tirzah? If we can’t?”
“Then you must do what your father told you, Boaz,” I said. “You must listen to the Song of the Frogs. Understand it. Learn it. Learn who you are. And then perhaps you will be able to stop whatever it is that Threshold will become at noon.”
“And how, pray, will I learn to understand the Song of the Frogs?”
“I have some friends, Boaz.”
“Yaqob!” He spat the word.
“Yes, and Isphet, and a dozen others. They will help you. There is a place that Isphet knows. A community where the ways of Elemental magic are still strong. Among them are Graces, elders of power who can teach you.” I looked at Zabrze. “Great Lord, if you can’t destroy Threshold, then I will have to get Boaz away from here.”
Zabrze nodded. “Can you get him to your friends now?”
“I think so. Boaz, here, take this,” and I handed him the box containing the book.
I quickly wrapped the Goblet of the Frogs in a robe and held it close.
“Kiamet,” Zabrze said, “go with them. Make sure they are safe. Then go to Azam, as we planned.”
Kiamet nodded.
“And Tirzah?”
I looked up.
“Stop calling me Great Lord. It is slightly ridiculous in the situation.”
I nodded, smiled, then Kiamet and I hurried Boaz out the door.
29
WE walked slowly, confidently, Kiamet and I slightly behind Boaz. Two or three of the Magi called out to Boaz, and one stopped to chat to him about the preparations for the rite.
He was curt and impatient with them. But that was normal for the Master of the Site, and none who talked to him realised that it was because he was nervous.
Just as we reached the gate, there came a shout behind us.
“Excellency!”
We jumped, and I saw Kiamet’s hand slide towards his sword. But then he relaxed.
Holdat.
“Excellency!” Holdat panted. “What is it that you do?”
Boaz opened his mouth, no doubt to snap, but Holdat took the box from his hand, managing to fawn and bow at the same time.
“Excellency! You must let me carry that for you!”
“It is a good idea, Excellency,” Kiamet said softly.
I regarded Holdat fondly. No doubt he would astound us shortly with the revelation that he was Zabrze’s long-lost twin brother.
But no. Holdat whispered to me as we marched through the gate and into Gesholme that he had seen and heard some of what had transpired in Boaz’s residence during the night. “And I was not going to let you go without someone to cook for you, Tirzah!” He winked.
I suppressed a smile. It would be useful to have Holdat with us. If we escaped. My good humour faded and I risked a glance over my shoulder at Threshold. It loomed bright and confident in the morning.
The sun was well above the horizon.
“Curse it, Tirzah, which way?” Boaz’s soft voice cut through my thoughts.
I bowed slightly, thinking that everyone from Threshold to the lowliest slave must have their eye on us, and led the group down a street, and then into an alley. My stomach churned; it was weeks since I had been home to Isphet’s tenement. What would she say? What would she do? Would she help us?
We arrived without incident. Kiamet, as would have been natural in normal circumstances, stepped to the door and hammered on it. My mind jumped back to the night of my arrival when Ta’uz had led me here.
There was a soft scuffling inside, as there had been then, and then Isphet threw back the door.
“Yes?” she enquired.
But I could read her eyes now, and they said that she believed I had betrayed her. Why else would the Master of the Site arrive so precipitously at her door?
She stared at me, her expression flat and hostile, then looked at Boaz. “Have you come to find fodder to make up the seventeen, Excellency?” she asked. “Does Threshold require further feeding today?”
Boaz ignored her as Kiamet whispered in his ear, then disappeared down the alley. Gone to Azam, I supposed.
As soon as Kiamet left, Boaz returned his attention to Isphet.
“Let me enter,” he said, and pushed past her. I was quick behind him, then Holdat, still clutching the box.
“Isphet,” I said as she closed the door. “It is not as it –”
“You bitch!” she hissed. “You have betrayed us. Why? For what? Does he pat you on the head? Feed you sweetmeats? Do you roll over and let him scratch your belly?”
“Isphet –”
“She has not betrayed you, Isphet,” Boaz said. “She has risked her life more than once to save you.”
She glared at him. “What do you want?”
Kiath and Saboa had retreated to a corner, sure the rest of their lives could be measured in hours at the most.
“We have come to help you escape,” Boaz said.
“Isphet, Boaz needs training. He is an Elemental Necromancer. We need you to help us get to –”
“What?” Isphet tried very hard to laugh. “What? Have you been out in the sun too long, girl? Is this some elaborate trick? Some –”
“Oh be quiet, woman!” Boaz snapped. He was fast regaining his equilibrium as his own shock faded and his acceptance hardened. “Why do you suspect a trick? If I wanted to destroy you, as all other Elementals within your workshop, or destroy Yaqob and Azam for the planned revolt, I would have done it without a word or warning shout and you would all be dead by now. Let Tirzah talk!”
Isphet just stared at him, more shocked now that he’d named Yaqob and Azam so surely.
“Sit down, Isphet,” I said, and led her to a stool, pulled one up beside her, and started to talk.
I talked until the sun shone strong through the windows. Boaz sank down on the floor, his back against a wall, his eyes never leaving
Isphet’s face. Holdat stood close by, his arms folded, the box at his feet.
“It was Boaz,” I finished gently, “who gave me the locks of hair. He transformed Druse’s stone lock to softness, and he told me to go to you with them.”
Isphet looked at me, then to Boaz. I did not blame her for disbelieving.
“And yet,” she said, her eyes still locked on Boaz, “he also filled you with so much pain you will never bear children, and threw you eight days into a hole that left you all but dead. Tell me, Tirzah,” her eyes swept back to me, “why I should trust you after you have kept so many secrets. Why?”
“I can give you no other reason, Isphet, save our friendship. Please, trust me.”
“Kiamet, my guard,” said Boaz, “has gone to Azam. Your little uprising shall have more support than you ever suspected. Prince Zabrze will aid you if you will help him destroy Threshold.”
Isphet finally managed to break into harsh laughter. “After all these years, Excellency, slaving over the hot glass, you now tell me we’re all going to march up to that cursed pyramid and smash it?”
“Isphet,” I began again, thinking to tell her of the Book of the Soulenai, but then the courtyard door burst open and Yaqob, Azam and Kiamet stepped in. Yaqob had a wild look to his eye, and he, as Azam, was armed.
“Yaqob!” I leapt to my feet, Boaz rising more slowly, his eyes on Yaqob.
“Azam came to fetch me with a wild tale that Princes were allied to slaves and that Magi were Elementals in disguise,” Yaqob said. “I almost did not believe him, save that now this Kiamet joins us, and a unit of imperial guards wait for us in the alley, and I see that this maggot,” he spat at Boaz, “has managed to crawl out of his dung hole to sit and chat to slaves. Isphet, what have they told you?”
I cringed at the “they”.
“That Boaz is an Elemental Necromancer…”
Yaqob’s eyes widened. Kiamet had very obviously not used that term.
“…and that now he and Zabrze wish to aid us in our struggle for freedom. I do not know what to think.”
“I would smell ‘trap’,” Yaqob said, “except this is so elaborate that I wonder what its purpose could be. The light entertainment before the true fun of awakening Threshold? Eh, Boaz? Do the Magi and Chad-Nezzar himself wait outside to burst into applause as I lead my sorry band out to fight for freedom? Eh?”