47
WE were silent in the morning. What do you say to someone you love and will lose that day? There are no goodbyes possible.
Everyone was still and silent, as if our mood had spread throughout Setkoth. Zabrze had found several river boats, and Boaz and I boarded the first of them with Zabrze, Isphet, Iraldur and a unit of soldiers. Other soldiers boarded the boats behind us.
But I did not think soldiers could help us very much this day.
Layla stayed behind, as did Kiamet and Holdat. I left the Book of the Soulenai and the Goblet of the Frogs with them. What need would I ever have of them again? What comfort could they give but bitter reminders of the man I had lost?
The oars dipped and bit into the river, the frogs chorused, and I think I hated the entire world at that moment. Isphet came to talk to me but I threw off her hand, and walked to the prow. I had four or five hours left. Four or five.
Boaz joined me and we stood silently, looking forward.
“Do you know,” he said softly, “that I loved you from the moment you carved those frogs in the glass in Setkoth?”
I remained silent, bitter. The breeze whipped hair about my eyes, and I twisted it back behind my ears with sharp, jerky movements.
“We sat there, opposite sides of the table, the glass connecting us, seeding love. I wonder what it thought, beloved, at the touch of both our hands?”
I bit my lip, determined not to look at him.
He sighed. “Tirzah, I wish it could have been different for you and me. I wish we had met as water-carrier and laundress, and then nothing would have stepped between us.”
A stray Juit bird rested among the reeds, and I wondered what it was doing here. Had Fetizza’s influence spread so far that the lake was free? Or did the Juit bird sit here, waiting for Fetizza’s magic to release the lake and marshes?
“We could have danced through the spring festivals on the banks of the river and spent a drunken night amid the reeds.”
I smiled despite myself, then bit it back.
“I would have begged your father for your hand, and he would have sat back and pretended to think about it. But he would have agreed, for water-carriers are ever the good catch for young laundresses.”
Damn him. Damn him!
“And we would have married under the summer solstice, and you would have grumbled at the number of children I gave you to trip your feet to and fro the wash trough.”
He took a deep shaky breath. “But all of that was denied us, Tirzah. We were Magus and slave, and so I spent months maltreating you, and caused you more pain than any person should have to bear.”
“Boaz –”
“And now I shall cause you further pain. Tirzah, can you forgive me for all I have done and will do to you?”
“Stop it! Boaz, you and I would have made a worse water-carrier and laundress than we did Magus and slave. I don’t want to talk. Please. All we will do is sadden these last few hours.”
“I think nothing can sadden them any more than they will be, Tirzah,” he said, but he held me in silence for a long time and we watched the river slide by.
The stone was thick and callused the closer we slid to Threshold, and I thought that Lake Juit must still be entombed. Was Memmon still wandering demented the path between river and house? I shuddered, and Boaz’s arms tightened.
“And what I regret most of all is what I must ask you to do to our child. Tirzah, I do not want to pass into the Place Beyond knowing that Nzame grows safe and secure in your womb. I could not bear that. Please, I beg you, I don’t want to leave you with Nzame.”
“I will do as you ask, Boaz. I promise.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Now I know that our sacrifice will be worth it.”
Stone-men wandered the banks, moaning. Not many, and the soldiers could deal with them.
Before us reared Threshold, looking cruelly beautiful, alive, vibrant, growing.
Waiting.
Its shadow winked.
Gesholme had crumbled to piles of stone rubble about it; Nzame wanted nothing to spoil the view of the river. The pyramid did not look very different from the one we had fled from; the golden capstone glinted in the sun, the plates of blue-green glass shone, and the dark mouth still yawned.
“Brother…”
Zabrze, stood behind us, uncertainty welling in his eyes. “Brother, are you sure you can succeed?”
“Yes, of course I am,” Boaz said, and managed a confident smile. “From this afternoon you shall have your realm back, Chad-Zabrze.” He clapped Zabrze on his shoulder, then strode past him towards the landing.
“Tirzah?” Zabrze asked. “Will you stay here?”
“No,” I said. “I am going to see this through.” And I likewise pushed past him.
Zabrze knows, too, I thought. Somehow he knows.
Isphet caught me up. “Tirzah?” Her fingers were sharp about my elbow. “What is Boaz going to do?”
Boaz was down on the landing now, watching impassively as a group of ten soldiers disabled the three stone-men who wove our way. He looked so beautiful, clad in a simple white robe with his hair combed back. Tonight, if all went well, he would rest with the Soulenai.
If all went well.
“He is going to trap Nzame into Infinity,” I said. “And then he will use the Song of the Frogs to escape to the Place Beyond.”
“But that will mean –” Isphet stopped as she saw the look on my face.
“Yes, Isphet, I know exactly what it will mean.”
She stared at me, then nodded. Isphet was not going to waste time on useless platitudes, and for that I was grateful.
“Then let us see this through, Tirzah. Let us share the witnessing.”
I took a deep breath, inclined my head, and we walked off the boat arm in arm.
The Magi were planted about Threshold. Hundreds of their black forms greeted us as we walked down the avenue, waving to and fro, moaning Nzame’s name, their feet merged to the ankles with the black, glassy rock that had spread out from Threshold’s skirts. They looked like a garden, neatly planted, and I supposed in a manner they were.
No stone-men bothered us once we’d passed the wharf.
Nothing bothered us save Nzame’s throbbing presence.
As we drew closer to Threshold we saw that it was not entirely as before. The pyramid had grown in size. It was almost twice the height and circumference it had once been. And behind the plate glass writhed eyes, thousands of them, and hands and faces pressed against the glass for an instant and then dissolved away into nothingness.
All the souls of those Nzame had eaten. Trapped forever in the glass of Threshold.
We stopped some twenty paces from the ramp that led to its mouth.
I felt sick and faint. I could not believe that Boaz was going to walk up that ramp and into Threshold.
Boaz looked at Zabrze, and nodded, then he turned to me. He wrapped his arms about me and pulled me close. I clung to him as tightly as I could, wanting to scream at him not to go, not to go in. Oh gods, don’t leave me like this, don’t go, don’t go…
“I have lived my life in the thrall and service of this beast,” he said very quietly. “It is fitting that I end my life, and its life, in this manner.”
He tipped my head back. I could hardly see his face through the blur of my tears. “Oh Tirzah, please don’t cry. We will meet again, you and I, in the Place Beyond. There we will spend eternity. Please, Tirzah, please smile for me.”
I tried, gods know how I tried, but I could not do it. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed anew, loathing myself that I could not smile for him.
Hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me back.
Zabrze.
“Goodbye, Tirzah,” Boaz whispered, and kissed me softly, then he was gone.
Nzame raged. We could hear him, we could feel him, and somehow we could also feel Boaz walking through the
corridors, walking up and up, walking forward into the Infinity Chamber.
I don’t know how he survived that far. Perhaps he managed to use his powers as either Magus or Necromancer to fend off Nzame, but eventually he walked into the bleak, dreadful Infinity Chamber.
Fool! Doomed fool! Go back! Go back!
The faces and hands pressing against the walls of Threshold became even more frantic, the shapes of their noses, foreheads and chins bulging through, their hands beating, pressing, seeking escape, escape…
Nzame screamed, wordlessly now, and I let Zabrze hold me tight.
The faces and hands disappeared, and were replaced with bloodied writing wriggling across the entire outer walls.
Within, Boaz had activated the Infinity Chamber.
Energy buzzed up through the soles of my sandals, and each of the Magi planted down the avenue and about Threshold tipped back his head and screamed.
Light flashed deep within the pyramid, and then the entire structure illuminated as if it contained a sun.
I cried out, as did every person around me, and Zabrze wrenched me about, trying to shield my eyes with his hand.
Tirzah!
Something screamed. I don’t know what it was, what…who was it?
Tirzah!
And then nothing.
Nothing.
The light had faded. The writing had disappeared. The faces and hands trapped within the glass had gone.
Threshold glinted peacefully in the sun.
Innocently.
Nzame had gone.
As had all of the Magi. They had melted into pools of black mess, and even these were rapidly evaporating in the afternoon sun.
There was a resounding crack, and a fissure split from the river to the south-east corner of Threshold. And then another, running from the river to the south-west corner.
And then the entire land about us was cracking and rupturing.
“Boaz!” I screamed, and, wrenching myself from Zabrze’s grasp, ran inside Threshold.
It was black, everything was black. Nzame had fused everything into black.
Black and slippery. I fell over a dozen times as I ran up the main corridor towards the Infinity Chamber, once hitting my face so badly my nose began to bleed, but I scrambled up, dashing the blood away from my face, running, running, running.
I felt nothing from the pyramid. Nothing.
I ran about the final few bends, vaguely hearing someone far behind me, but unable to distinguish the steps over my own hoarse breathing.
Light trickled around a bend. Bright light. The Infinity Chamber.
I rounded the bend and stood, staring. Light almost as strong as a sun blazed from the door leading into the chamber.
And I could hear something.
The glass. The golden, caged glass was chattering to itself.
I walked forward slowly, very unsure, blinking against the light. I reached the door and extended a hand inside.
Nothing. Just the bemused chattering of the glass.
I hesitated no longer. I had nothing to lose. The light faded – or changed, I’m not sure what – the instant I stepped inside. It was still bright, but now I could see without effort.
I turned around slowly. The chamber was utterly empty.
And the glass glistened cheerily.
Isphet burst in, her chest heaving. “Well?”
I didn’t reply, but moved to one of the walls and laid my hand on the glass. Whatever had caused it to scream once – Nzame’s influence stretching from the Vale – had now gone. The bridge to the Vale had been broken.
I took a deep breath, listening to the glass. It was happy now, revelling in its beauty.
I felt Isphet lay her hands beside mine.
“Talk to us,” she whispered, and the glass did.
There had been a great battle. A man had entered, and had wrestled with Nzame. There had been much pain, and many shouts.
Then the man had opened the bridge into Infinity.
“And then?” I whispered. “And then?”
Then the man and Nzame had vanished. Gone.
“Did Boaz drag Nzame into Infinity?” I whispered, my hands pressed so hard against the glass its edges cut into my palms and fingers. “Did he drag Nzame into Infinity?”
The glass supposed so. Both had gone now, hadn’t they? They couldn’t feel Nzame at all.
“Was…was there a bridge created anywhere else?” I asked. “To anyone else?”
The glass was confused. What did I mean?
Isphet turned her eyes from the glass to me.
“Was there a chance that Nzame went…elsewhere…other than Infinity?”
The glass didn’t care. He was gone. That was all that mattered. He was gone. It chattered happily to itself, losing interest in my questioning.
“Tirzah,” Isphet said. “Come on now. It is over. He is gone. Come away, now.”
And so saying, so whispering, she dragged me out of Threshold.