“Why are you here?” asked the man on the black chair. His eyes had been closed, but now he opened them partway, almost as if he were too exhausted to bother opening them all the way. His pupils were very black and shining, yet lifeless. They reminded Rage of the polished eyes of a stuffed animal in a museum.
“Are you the master of this place?” she asked. This strange, chilly man was so unlike the evil tyrant she had been expecting that she was confused.
“There is no master here but despair,” he answered. “Why have you come?”
“We wanted to see this wizard,” Rage said, making up her mind to tell the truth, hoping they could find out what was going on. “We want to close the winter door.”
“The winter door will remain open,” the man said.
“But it mustn’t!” Rage cried. “It is causing terrible harm to other worlds. Why would you want it to stay open?”
“I want nothing,” the man said drearily.
“Then who does want it open?” There was no response to this. “You say you want nothing but that’s not true,” Rage said. “You wanted the wizard to be your prisoner.”
“I did not ask him to come to Null, or to Stormkeep,” the man said. “Nor do I desire him as a prisoner. It is his own desires that keep him here. When he is no longer tormented by them, he will be free to leave.”
“You mean you are keeping him here because he wants to close the winter door?” Rage asked, confused.
“He cannot close it,” the man said. “Now tell me what your mistress desires here. This Lady Elle.”
Rage’s heart leapt, for it seemed that Elle had sent her letter after all. Without warning, one of the winged creatures lashed out with the blunt end of his spear, and Rage fell to her knees. “Answer the Stormlord,” it commanded.
Billy stepped forward to help her, but again a lance flashed out to block his way.
“No communication!” the flier chittered.
Rage was dizzy from what had been some sort of electrical shock.
“I wasn’t communicating,” Billy protested. “I was just trying to help her up.”
“Touching is communication where humans are concerned,” the Stormlord announced dully. “And for these creatures who serve me, it is an intimate thing to touch another even in the most casual way.”
“Can’t you tell them that I didn’t mean anything by it?” Billy asked.
“Did you not?” he asked. Billy blushed. “Why has your mistress invaded my realm?”
“None of us are invaders,” Rage said indignantly. “We just want to close the winter door.”
“Wanting is forbidden,” the Stormlord said. “Null was created to offer a sanctuary for those who want nothing. Those who invade do so at their peril.”
“What about the people in the settlements? They didn’t invade,” Billy said.
“Their ancestors invaded. I closed the gaps by which they came here and suffered them to remain because they were aligned to this world. It was a mistake, for they bred and their offspring were infested with desire. I see now that there is only one answer to all those worlds beyond this one where creatures yearn.”
“What answer?” Rage asked with terrible foreboding.
“The winter door will remain open until all worlds are as Null.”
“This horrible, black, sick place!” Rage cried. “No one could be happy here.” Clearly the Stormlord was himself a wizard.
“This place does not require happiness,” the Stormlord said implacably. “That is its virtue. There is no hope of joy or brightness, and in time those who dwell here cease to long for such things. Eventually all worlds will be as this one, and no one anywhere will yearn for anything.”
“Why would you want to hurt other worlds?” Billy asked.
“I want nothing, save to be free of yearning. But this will never happen while there are other worlds full of beings to yearn and invade and damage this world with their wanting and hungering. The door is open and so will it remain until all share the peace of this world.”
“This isn’t peace!” Rage said. “This is a nightmare! And why did you keep the wizard a prisoner?”
“I have told you that it was the wizard’s desire to be free from the pain of longing that drew him here. Just as it calls to you.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” Rage stammered. “I came here—”
“Seeking an end to pain,” the man said. “The machine felt it when you were near and so did I. There is only one way to end pain, and that is to want nothing.”
“But…that would be death!” Rage said.
“Death is merely oblivion. This world offers another way. To live, and yet to be free from desire. You came here for that reason.”
“I…I…” Rage faltered to a stop. She felt uneasily that the man was uttering a truth, albeit a twisted one.
“She didn’t come here for this black, cold emptiness,” Billy said firmly. “Nor did I.”
“No, you came here because of what you desire, boy, and yet that desire can never be fulfilled. In your heart, you know it already.” Billy paled. The Stormlord continued. “For the last time, tell me why your mistress came here. She is not a wizard, or I would have sensed it. But she has some great power that is unknown to me, with which she disrupts Null.”
Rage thought of the earth tremors, and the maid’s assertion that they had begun when Elle arrived. Was that what he meant? “You will have to ask her about the source of her power,” she said. “You don’t imagine that we who serve her would know such things, do you?”
The Stormlord stared at her for a long moment. “Very well. You will remain here until your mistress comes to seek you. Then she will answer my questions.”
“What are you going to do with us?” Billy asked.
“You will be aligned, and this wizard will be realigned, for it is clear that your appearance has caused him to regress. The machine felt it, and so did I. That is why I commanded that the link be broken. He will need realignment before he can be reconnected.” He seemed to look closely at Billy for a moment. “It will take longer for you because there is only a very little darkness in you yet. It will have to be coaxed to life if it is to grow.”
“You are a hateful man,” Rage cried, too angry to be afraid. “You like hurting people, and you want them to be sad and miserable or you would never have made such a horrible, ugly world. And what about all those other people you have chained up in your tower. Do they all want nothing? Even the children?”
“I see that you come from a world that deludes itself that children are innocent, by which you mean witless slaves with no ability to affect or be affected by the worlds they occupy,” the Stormlord said with hollow humor. “I do not make that mistake. The children of the invaders are more difficult to align because they have not experienced enough pain. They must be made to know it without having experienced it. They will have to remain here for many years before they can be allowed to leave this place.”
“You must be mad!” Rage said. The ground under their feet pitched violently and then gave a long shudder. It was the strongest earth tremor they had yet experienced.
“Why does your mistress attack Null when she claims to desire a parley?” The Stormlord’s dull monotone did not alter, and yet it seemed to Rage that his eyes had grown more densely black.
“No one is attacking you,” Billy said before Rage could stop him. “And you are wrong about yearning only leading to pain. Not everyone wants to be free from it. Maybe yearning is actually more important than having what you want.”
The floor trembled under their feet again, and this time the Stormlord rose to his feet. Now that he was not slumped in his chair, Rage saw that he was very tall. “So that is your trick, lad?” he said to Billy. “You think to strike at my world by accepting pain and embracing it?” He made a signal and again the winged creature struck out with its lance. Billy cried out and fell convulsing to the ground, blood dripping from his nose. Stepping forward, Rage groped in her poc
ket for a handkerchief. Instead, she encountered something soft. It was the pouch of sleep dust Thaddeus had given her! She did not know how it had come into her pocket, but she pushed her hand into the pouch, scooping up some of the fine, silky dust, and hurled it into the face of the Stormlord.
He swayed and his eyes rolled back in their sockets as he collapsed at their feet. The fliers didn’t comprehend what had happened, and Billy was up and snatching the lance from the one that had hurt him. Instead of using the sharp tip, he batted at the creature with the gray end, using it as a club. There was a stunning explosion of light, and the flier fell beside its master. The other fliers did not move, although several of them were beginning to rock back and forth and flutter their wings.
“They must be linked to the Stormlord somehow, but the dust doesn’t last long,” Rage said, wondering what she had set in motion.
“It doesn’t matter,” Billy said. “You have given us the chance to get the wizard out of here, so let’s try. Do you have any of the dust left?”
Rage nodded. “What are you doing?”
Billy hoisted the unconscious Stormlord across his shoulders. “You can use the dust on him to keep him asleep, and then we’ll use him to stop the fliers from doing anything. Bring the wizard.”
Rage looked warily at the ranks of fliers about the room, all rocking and fluttering their wings, and prayed that they would not be able to act until their master awoke. Billy was already heading for the door, so Rage caught hold of the wizard and dragged him after her.
The ranks of fliers outside were standing quite still, but it was unnerving as Rage and Billy passed those gleaming, many-mirrored faces. As soon as they had passed out of their sight, Billy began to run slowly. Rage pulled the wizard along as fast as she could. They had just reached the courtyard archway when the Stormlord began to stir. Rage threw another handful of the dust in his face and he was still. Now the fliers in the courtyard barred their way, regarding them passively.
Rage looked around and saw a small door to one side of the arch. “Let’s go through here,” she whispered.
Billy nodded, and Rage felt the hair on her neck stir, for as they made their way to the small door, several of the fliers turned their heads to watch them go.
“Uh-oh,” Billy said. The doorway only led to the bottom of a set of stairs. “We’d better go up,” he said. “Maybe we can find another way to the main gate.”
They climbed slowly because the staircase was narrow and curved, and an unconscious man and a sleepwalker hampered them. They came to the end of the stairs and to another door. It led them onto the watch-walk that ran along behind the crenellations of the walls of Stormkeep. There were gray fliers stationed along it, armed with lances, and they all turned toward them.
“Now what?” Rage groaned as some of the fliers began to draw nearer, lifting their lances.
“There is only one way out of this,” Billy murmured determinedly. He stepped boldly away from the turret door, forcing Rage to move out along the battlements. She glanced over the wall and felt sick. Another tremor shook the fortress and she clutched at the wall, but Billy shouted, “See what power our mistress has? Your master should have known better than to hold her servants as prisoners. You must let us go, lest she smash this place to rubble.”
“What are you doing?” Rage whispered.
“I command you to carry us to the settlement below, where our mistress awaits us, then I will release your master,” Billy went on, ignoring her.
“Release Stormlord now,” the nearest creature responded in its dry, clicking voice.
“First take this girl and the man with her down to the settlement, then I will release your master, and you can take me down.”
“I won’t leave you,” Rage said. “All we have to do is wait until we wake!”
“There is no time,” Billy said softly. “These things are starting to smell violent. Go, Rage Winnoway, whose name is also Courage. I will make them bring me down with the Stormlord!”
Rage prayed he could hold them off with the threat of harming their master. “Billy, he was wrong, there is no darkness in you.”
“Take them down now,” Billy said loudly. One of the flying creatures swooped at Rage, and as its cold, hard hands closed about her, he added, “If you drop her or harm her or the wizard, I will throw your master into the abyss.”
Rage couldn’t imagine Billy doing such a thing, but she hoped the flier clasping her under its arm believed him. It reached for the wizard and tucked him under its other arm. The flier’s wings whirred and they rose in the air, clearing the wall. There was no time to say anything to Billy because the moment they were clear, the flier turned and dived straight down! Rage would have screamed if she could have found the breath for it, but in what seemed like seconds, the creature banked its wings, and they were gliding to land not far from the outer rim of a settlement.
The flier released them and took off again immediately.
Rage heard someone calling her name, but her eyes were riveted to the flier as it soared back up to Stormkeep. Once it vanished over the wall of the fortress, she hoped to see it reappear with Billy and the Stormlord in its arms. Instead, a tiny figure climbed onto the top of the wall.
“What is happening?” the wizard asked in a groggy voice.
“Billy is up there,” Rage whispered, clasping her hands together so hard that they hurt. What was he doing and where was the Stormlord?
Billy was falling.
Rage screamed and dropped to her knees, pleading with the fates to wake her so that she could wake Billy before he hit the ground. But she did not wake. Billy fell and fell, down the gleaming black walls and into the abyss. Rage was only dimly aware of hands lifting her to her feet.
“No,” Rage whispered, closing her eyes, but the ghastly sight of Billy falling seemed to go on and on against the inside of her eyelids. The ground shuddered as if it shared her grief. Then someone was cupping her face with warm hands, and she opened tear-blurred eyes to see Elle’s face.
“Billy,” Rage gasped.
“Hush, darling heart, I saw it, too,” Elle said, her face raw with grief. “Come away now. There is nothing you can do here.”
The wind had grown bitter, and the snow fell so thickly that each breath was choked with it. Rage let herself be led back into the settlement, into the summerland meetinghouse where Thaddeus was waiting. He took one look at Rage’s face and grew pale. Elle explained swiftly what had happened.
“He died because of me,” the wizard rasped, and there were tears on his cheeks. “First his mother and now the boy.”
“If anyone is to blame, it is me, for it was my idea that he and Rage go to Stormkeep,” Elle said. “But what is the use of trying to lay blame? It will not change what has happened.” Elle took the wizard by the shoulders and shook him once, softly but insistently. “You did not kill him, my friend. Billy Thunder chose to save you and Rage, and it was a deed both bravely and brightly done. You must not diminish his actions by assuming responsibility for them. He sought to free you because he knew that we could not close the winter door without you.” She looked at Rage. “And he saved you because he could never see you hurt, whom he loves above all others.”
“If only we hadn’t tried to get out,” Rage sobbed. “We could have just waited and kept the Stormlord talking, but the gray flier hurt Billy, and I…I threw the sleep dust without thinking it through—”
“You spoke with the Stormlord?” Elle broke in.
Rage nodded. “He said this world had been created as a sanctuary for him, and that the people and other creatures here came here through gaps. He said he closed the gaps at first and let the people stay because they were aligned. I suppose he meant that they were like him. But then they had children who dreamed of flowers and sunlight and blue skies and wanted them. That’s what he hates most of all and why he means to leave the winter door open.”
“Yearning,” the wizard murmured. “He built this world to offer nothing
so that he could kill yearning in himself. But the world is flawed because wanting to end pain and wanting not to yearn are themselves desires. Such a paradox would naturally create gaps. But a door is not a gap….” He frowned in thought.
Rage could not speak, as fresh grief at Billy’s loss flowed through her.
“Hush,” Elle said, touching her cheek. “You must try to sleep now. You are exhausted and overwrought with sorrow. Sleep has healing properties.”
“I wish I could wake,” Rage sobbed.
“I am sorry,” the wizard said brokenly.
Rage bit back the desire to agree. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said huskily. “Billy always knew what he was doing, even when he suffered for it.” She thought of him jumping through the night gate after her, condemning himself to a life as a dog, rather than as a person who could reason, imagine, and decide his own destiny.
“It’s so unfair,” Mr. Walker said. Rage looked over to see the hollow-eyed little man levering himself up on his bed. “Life is seldom as just as the stories would have it.”
“All of you must get away from this place,” the wizard said. “The purpose of this world is to force all who dwell here to the end of their darkest desires.”
Rage opened her mouth, but at last, and too late for Billy, she felt the inexorable pull and the world spun away.
She resisted waking, wanting to drift forever in the place between waking and sleeping so that she would not wake to the pain of an existence without Billy’s sweetness and kindness and his true, steadfast love. In all her life, there had been no one else whose love she could trust so well. Mam was slipping further and further away, and her uncle wanted to leave. Perhaps he had already gone. Even Logan was going away. Without Billy, she would be alone.
It was terribly cold and dark. The coldness became a kind of numbness in which Rage couldn’t remember Billy’s face, nor the feel of his arms about her. It was like losing him a second time, but even the pain of losing him was fading away. Rage thought of the deadness of the Stormlord’s face and understood that this was what was inside him. She roused then, knowing she did not want to die, because alive she at least would have the joy of remembering Billy and their lives together. She tried to wake, but the falling had its own pull and she could not break free. Fear came and was sucked away, leaving a gray emptiness. Rage felt herself begin to fade.