Isaiah walked through the camp, looking for Hereward, when suddenly he stopped. His eyes stared, his mouth opened. He felt . . .

Whole.

He bent over, resting his hands on his knees.

His power was filtering back!

Isaiah could hardly believe it. He had thought he was reconciled to a mortal life without power, but now .

Was this a trick of the One?

Taking a deep breath and straightening up, Isaiah tested himself (hardly daring to, in case it was a trick!) by sending out a probe, trying to scry out the One.

His power worked perfectly, but he could feel nothing of the One. Nothing.

Nothing.

And the river was back! Isaiah could sense it flowing in delight, full of life as it swept down from the FarReach Mountains toward Lake Juit.

The River Lhyl flowed again.

Isaiah sank down and sat in the dirt. All about him the camp was rousing for the day, but he just sat there in the dirt, his eyes gleaming, ignoring the curious looks sent his way.

The water was back.

His power was back.

He was whole.

The river was back.

He was whole.

DarkGlass Mountain was gone. Every sense of it had vanished. It was gone.

And the One . . . Isaiah could not feel him at all.

He, too, was gone.

Isaiah gave himself one moment of sheer happiness, then he rose to his feet. It must have been Maximilian or Ishbel, or both. Nothing else could have managed the destruction of the One or of DarkGlass Mountain.

Isaiah chuckled. “I had not thought either of you capable of managing it,” he said softly, “but I am more than glad to be proved wrong.”

He couldn’t decide what to do next. Talk to Hereward? To Lamiah? To the damned juit birds and find out why they were here and what they knew? Try to communicate with Axis, or Maximilian, or Ishbel?

Out of all those possibilities, Hereward was coming a distant last, but as he turned to retrace his steps Isaiah saw her tent and decided he might as well speak with her while he was here.

Besides, she would be pleased to learn he had his power back.

Smiling happily (and drawing strange looks from the soldiers for that smile), Isaiah walked over to Hereward’s tent.

“Hereward?” Isaiah lifted the flap and looked inside.

Hereward was sitting on her camp bed and looked at him irritably when he came in.

“I do not need you,” she said.

“Nonetheless,” Isaiah said. He came over and sat down beside her, then carefully lifted away the linen she had pressed against her neck.

“Be careful!” she snapped.

“I will be careful,” Isaiah said. The wound had started to coagulate — it had not been as bad or as deep as the original had been, although frightening enough — and was only seeping a pinkish fluid now.

Isaiah wondered why it had reopened. What did it signify? Was it just another effect of the destruction of the pyramid and the One, and the rebirth of the River Lhyl?

Or was there some darker mystery behind it?

His fingers probed at Hereward’s neck and she hissed at him, making Isaiah look at her sharply.

“Don’t touch it, Isaiah,” she said. “There is nothing you can do to —”

Isaiah’s fingers ran over the soft scab, just lightly, and suddenly it was healed, completely sealed over.

Hereward twisted her face about to stare at him. She lifted her own fingers to her neck, and her eyes widened. “What did you do? How .?”

“I have my power back, Hereward. I am whole.”

Hereward stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Whole?”

Isaiah laughed, softly at first, then louder in sheer joy. “The river god is back, Hereward. What say you?”

“That I preferred the man,” she said, and her tone was so dismissive that Isaiah’s laughter died, and he rose and left the tent.

Isaiah walked to the edge of the encampment, irritated at Hereward. Once again he thought how good it would be to leave her behind.

Or to hand her over to her father Ezekiel at Elcho Falling.

“She has never been anything but trouble,” Isaiah muttered to himself.

He reached the edge of the camp, walked about ten paces toward the juit birds, then sat down, bowing his head as he did so.

Isaiah may have had his powers as river god restored, but the juit birds were so magical as to be barely of this world. They deserved his respect.

The birds turned to regard him with their bright black eyes, then one walked forward and, a pace away from Isaiah, fluffed out its feathers and sank to the ground.

You have returned to us, Mighty One, said the bird. We thought to have lost you forever.

I thought to have lost myself, Isaiah said. Tell me, what brings you here?

A great transference of power. Something came down from this land to the glass obscenity —

Isaiah had to restrain a smile at the bird’s description of the pyramid. — and in return, here we are. There was a balance required.

Isaiah nodded, understanding. It was the Lord of Elcho Falling who came to the pyramid?

We do not know who it was.

It must have been Maximilian, likely with Ishbel, Isaiah thought, and then did smile, thinking that they were working very hard to avoid him!

What can you tell me, bright-feathered one?

That the mass of grey wraiths approach, Isaiah. They are, perhaps, but three hours away. Are you ready?

Eleanon and Bingaleal sat on a mountain top several hours’ flight from Elcho Falling.

They had flown there this very morning in the space of just three breaths. For a long time they sat in silence, revelling in the growth of their potential, in their union with Infinity which had brought them so much power — ever-increasing — and at the sight of Elcho Falling in the far distance which they could just pick out in the darkness.

As they cast their gaze about, both Lealfast men could see as far as Escator to the west, to Elcho Falling in the east and to the foothills of the FarReach Mountains in the south.

They did not cast their eyes northward. They never wanted to see the frozen wastes again. It had been a prison for too long.

“Interesting times,” Bingaleal said eventually, and his brother sighed and stretched his arms.

Frost crackled and fell from his skin, which gleamed a soft ivory in the morning light.

“DarkGlass Mountain is no more,” Bingaleal said.

Eleanon shrugged, now rubbing the last of the frost from his biceps. “It was an aberration,” he said, “whichever way you look at it. I am surprised it lasted this long.”

“Ishbel did it.”

Eleanon bared his teeth, just a little. “She thinks to be so clever. One day she will be unwound.”

“And the One .?”

Now Eleanon smiled genuinely. “Ah, the One. They have no idea. Likely they celebrate, thinking him gone.”

“Will he be a trouble to us where he is?”

Eleanon thought a little. “I doubt it. I think he has almost forgotten us. After what has happened at DarkGlass Mountain, his attention will be entirely and absolutely on Ishbel and Maximilian. For the One, Elcho Falling can wait. This is personal for him, now.”

“He hasn’t been in touch.”

Eleanon chuckled. “Would you? With all that has happened this night? No, of course he has not thought to speak with us. He would not, in any case, as it might well reveal his presence to those inside Elcho Falling. So we will be careful, Bingaleal. We shall continue on with our plan. Everything we do appears to be in his favour, too. The One shall not trouble us.”

“I like the idea very much that it is the StarMan from whom we must wrest Elcho Falling,” Bingaleal said. “Maximilian was never the real enemy. Never a challenging enemy. Axis is. StarMan” He said that last with a curl of his lip.

“I felt his fear and frustration when we attacked.”

They both sighed, remembering, revelling.

“We must be careful,” Eleanon said after a moment.

“Inardle. We can no longer trust her.”

Eleanon looked at Bingaleal. “Did you ever? You must have known that the instant she went to Axis’ bed she was compromised. She was useful for only a short while.” He shrugged.

“She could be dangerous.”

“Then we must fix that.”

“She knows a little too much, Eleanon.”

“Then we will fix that, too.”

Bingaleal nodded, then changed the subject. “The Dark Spire?”

“It continues to grow. It waits. For Ravenna. Once she enters Elcho Falling, then it will become what we need.”

“Do you have any idea how you will get her inside?”

“Not yet. But when the chance arrives, I will seize it.”

“And Ravenna?”

“She needs a little . . . work,” Eleanon said. “I need to alter Ishbel’s curse. But there is no rush. No need for us to show our hand just yet.”

He paused, thinking, then resumed speaking. “Isaiah is coming. The Skraelings are coming — I can just see them, in the far distance, the revolting little sprites. Axis will want to save Isaiah from the Skraelings and from us . . . and Inardle may well suggest the way. Bingaleal . . . I suggest it might be foolish to try and stop them just yet. It might be best to allow —”

“Axis and Inardle to escape. To actually save Isaiah?”

“Yes”

Both grinned simultaneously.

“Axis will not be able to resist the saving of Isaiah,” said Eleanon. “And it will be the death of him, and of Elcho Falling.”

“And of, finally, every last remaining Icarii. It is time they were wiped from the face of this world and from all memory, brother. Time, indeed.”

The two Lealfast sat on that mountain top until late morning, in silent accord, rejoicing in the certainty that soon they would be masters of the world.

Darkglass Mountain #03 - The Infinity Gate
cover.html
titlepage.html
dedication.html
contents.html
map.html
prologue.html
unknown.html
part01.html
chapter01.html
chapter02.html
chapter03.html
chapter04.html
chapter05.html
chapter06.html
chapter07.html
chapter08.html
chapter09.html
chapter10.html
chapter11.html
chapter12.html
chapter13.html
chapter14.html
chapter15.html
chapter16.html
chapter17.html
chapter18.html
chapter19.html
chapter20.html
chapter21.html
chapter22.html
chapter23.html
chapter24.html
part02.html
chapter25.html
chapter26.html
chapter27.html
chapter28.html
chapter29.html
chapter30.html
chapter31.html
chapter32.html
chapter33.html
chapter34.html
chapter35.html
chapter36.html
chapter37.html
chapter38.html
chapter39.html
chapter40.html
chapter41.html
chapter42.html
chapter43.html
chapter44.html
chapter45.html
chapter46.html
chapter47.html
chapter48.html
chapter49.html
chapter50.html
part03.html
chapter51.html
chapter52.html
chapter53.html
chapter54.html
chapter55.html
chapter56.html
chapter57.html
chapter58.html
chapter59.html
chapter60.html
chapter61.html
chapter62.html
chapter63.html
chapter64.html
chapter65.html
chapter66.html
chapter67.html
chapter68.html
chapter69.html
chapter70.html
chapter71.html
chapter72.html
chapter73.html
chapter74.html
chapter75.html
chapter76.html
chapter77.html
chapter78.html
part04.html
chapter79.html
chapter80.html
chapter81.html
chapter82.html
chapter83.html
chapter84.html
chapter85.html
chapter86.html
chapter87.html
chapter88.html
chapter89.html
chapter90.html
chapter91.html
chapter92.html
chapter93.html
chapter94.html
chapter95.html
chapter96.html
chapter97.html
chapter98.html
chapter99.html
chapter100.html
chapter101.html
epilogue.html
LandofNightmares.html
glossary.html
abtauthor.html
copyright.html
atp01.html