JULIEN

II

Chapter 78

A dead end

Although he was personally responsible for Ambar's and Yülien's training on every aspect of the Art of the Guides, Wenn Hyaï had not yet broached the tricky subject of navigating outside the universe itself. Instead he had preferred to concentrate on getting them working together in harmony and on making sure the most vital safety reflexes were properly engrained. He had hoped to be able to wait for Yülien to reach maturity before launching into the sort of exploration which was likely to become highly dangerous once the inevitable hormonal imbalances of puberty struck.

Sadly, the present emergency made that impossible. Furthermore, somehow they had to include Xarax in their mission, because Xarax simply wasn't able to listen to any argument which suggested that he should remain behind when his master was in danger.

Obviously they had no time to make a detailed search of the entire universe, and so they had decided to resort to asking for help from the 'non-dual auto-conscious being', as he had styled himself. They thought it improbable that Julien had jumped there, but they hoped that their recent acquaintance might have some information for them – or even some assistance...

oo0oo

As he had already told them, the 'non-dual auto-conscious being' was not a god and he wasn't all-powerful. He wasn't even omniscient. Nor did he have any suggestion to offer concerning Julien's possible whereabouts, and in fact he wasn't at all interested in getting involved in their search. However, he was prepared to allow his 'spatial continuum' to be explored by 'entities recognised as non-hostile'. This opened a literal world of possibilities, but it was of no help whatever at the present time.

They would have to find something else.

oo0oo

Subadar had expected them to fail, even though he had fervently hoped they would not. And he was fairly sure that, despite their devotion to him, Julien's other friends would be unable to find him either. By now he was starting to get an idea of the greater picture, and he had reached a conclusion which, while not offering any great hope, still might turn out to be close to reality.

If he was right in his conjectures he was certainly likely to be the only one who had any chance of helping the boy he had come to love far more than was reasonable. He would almost certainly lose what was left of his life and perhaps, if death was not the nothingness he hoped for, he would have to face unforeseen and unpleasant consequences. But he couldn't simply stand by and surrender Julien to a terrible fate.

He was far too honest with himself to pretend that he was about to undertake such a dangerous quest in order to preserve the Nine Worlds. If he succeeded, the survival of the Empire would be no more an a fringe benefit.

“I know what you're thinking, Subadar,” said Ugo, pulling him from the tension his thoughts were causing him.

“Do you?”

“It's not hard to guess.”

“So what about it?”

“Just that if you decide to do what I think you're thinking about you're going to need me with you as well as a fully operational Guide. It's too bad I can't do that for you as well.”

“So where do you think I'm intending to go?”

“To Tandil, obviously. And you're right: if there is still a chance to find him at all it'll be in a place like the one you're thinking about.”

“Yol, you don't need to come.”

“Don't try telling me lies. You know I'm the only one who could prevent you from destroying yourself. And...”

“All right, don't say any more. I'll take you with me.”

oo0oo

Chapter 79

Replacement

That moron Ahrr'demmghath was going to die, and he richly deserved it. How could he lose control like that in front of TWO of the Old Gods? He might just as well have drunk a glass of amthag – it was just as certain a way to die, and a great deal less unpleasant. The cretin had spent a cycle and a half intriguing his way into the post of Voice of the Circle and now he had thrown it all away by giving in to rage in the middle of the Rite.

Dem'ghahirr prepared to step into the Circle of Invocation. He knew he would have to take over the role of Celebrant shortly.

Indeed, the Voice of the Circle, his body still as taut as a bow, had stopped spurting out his seed: instead dark blood was now spurting from his erection and his eyes no longer saw the paling sky of early dawn. He crumpled to the ground, and as his head hit the stone it made a dull sound which nonetheless seemed to echo in the sudden silence.

“I am the Voice of the Circle of Eng'Hornath!” cried Dem'ghahirr, stepping forward to take his place next to where Julien lay bound across Dr'Haïrr's Belly and gesturing to the acolytes, who carried away his predecessor's lifeless body. The flute and drum resumed their demented dialogue.

The sixteen remaining members of the Circle, deep in their trance, murmured their acceptance of the change of Voice, and the new celebrant began the Enn'hghoto Dance, a complex sequence of physical and mental postures which, in conjunction with the drugs he had been absorbing for several weeks, would enable him to establish a communication link with the Dre tchenns.

Pallid Orb

non-light, achromatous colour

and you, Shadow,

crawling on the threshold of words

Let him be yours

for his torment

as long as the abhorred order of the R'hinz exists.

Let him be yours

the powerless Protector of Nine Worlds

Let him be guarded by You,

crawling Chaos,

in obedience to your Master Who whispers terror

Let him be guarded so none can find him

Let him despair and die not

I am the Voice of the Circle of Eng'Hornath

and through You I have power over him that today I give you

so he may be guarded and die not

Let him be guarded until the end of the abhorred order of the R'hinz

and let the time of Ahrr'krazmelekh come at last

I have the power and I seal the covenant

with a drop of my blood for an instant of your eternity

The horizon continued to grow lighter in the east, but it seemed as though the light of dawn could not penetrate the area around the sacrificial circle, which retained the darkness of a sealed vault, illuminated only by the smoking flames of the braziers. And at the core of that strange twilight a palpitating darkness swelled slowly in a way that was only perceptible to the heightened senses of the sorcerers. For although the Dre tchenn was present, he wasn't really 'there'. And soon the same would apply to the Emperor.

For that was the brilliant beauty of the scheme: the Emperor would remain a prisoner outside of the world while still within it, utterly submitted to the control of a major Dre tchenn. He would be absent but undead and so unable to migrate to a substitute body. He would also be unable to fulfil his role in the R'hinz. Caught like an insect in amber, in a stasis in which his body would never change. But his mind... Ahhh! His mind would remain awake and would sink – more slowly than the growth of those forever unseen huge crystals in the blind entrails of the rocks – into a dementia from which there was no return, where nothing would exist except for the unique, unbearable, unutterable, self-inflicted torment.

The One who crawls at the threshold of worlds would feed on that torment as a delicious nectar, and the sorcerers of Eng'hornath would gloat and contemplate the gradual disintegration of the thousand year institutions of the Empire as it finally collapsed into a fecund chaos, at last spinning once more the wheel of change which had been motionless for so long.

oo0oo