The Devoured Earth (13 page)

‘Much better,’ he said. ‘This form wasn’t built for carrying people.’

Sal didn’t let him off so easily. ‘What did you mean by saying this is my home?’

Pukje’s long beaked face twisted to face Sal. His tilted eyes blinked with a distinct clicking noise. ‘Look away. All three of you. I can’t change while you’re watching. Your wills interfere.’

Sal scowled in annoyance, but did as he was told. Highson and Kail did the same. From behind them came the sound of slithery motion, as of a barrel of snakes being tipped on the ground. The light subtly shifted.

‘There. You can look now.’

When Sal turned around, Pukje had returned to his imp form. And he was no longer alone. Standing next to him was a gaunt white-haired man who towered a full head over Kail. His light brown robe was far too thin for the conditions, but he didn’t appear to be cold. His bare hands clutched a long, thin staff that looked as if it was made of solid honey with a wickedly sharp tip at the lower end. On his head he wore a gold crown with a single raised disk at the front and pointed, curved tongues around the sides and back. Despite his emaciated form, there was an air of brutality about him, and Sal instinctively backed away.

‘Who’s this?’ he asked, unnerved by the unexpected development.

‘This is Tatenen,’ said Pukje slyly.

The man himself spoke in a low, resonant voice. ‘Tatenen, the great and ancient land that separates sky from earth. I, its guardian, am called by the same name. We recognise you, wild one.’

With a single fluid and surprising movement, the tall man dropped to one knee and bowed his head to Sal.

A chill went through Sal that had nothing to do with the cold. ‘What do you mean, you recognise me?’

‘We anticipated your coming, and now you are here.’ The man’s head rose. His expression was one of puzzlement. ‘Do you not know why?’

‘No, I don’t know.’ Sal turned angrily to their guide. ‘Pukje, what the Goddess is going on? No more dodging the question. Tell me now, or —’

‘Or what?’ The imp’s wrinkled face broke into a wide toothless grin. ‘You’ll show me what you’re capable of? I would like that, Sal. Really I would — and so would Tatenen and his friends. That’s why you’re here: to make allies, not enemies, and to hear good advice. You want to save the world, don’t you?’

Highson came alongside him and Sal was obscurely grateful for his father’s proximity.

‘That’s not a burden for one person’s shoulders,’

Highson said, ‘and who are you to offer it, anyway?’

‘Not I,’ said Pukje. ‘The Old Ones.’

‘I speak for them,’ said Tatenen, his eyes flashing bright green. ‘I tamed them. I am their voice.’

‘
Whose
voice?’ snapped Sal.

‘Kuk and Kauket were the darkness that reigned before creation.’ At Tatenen’s words, the sky grew black. ‘Huh and Hauhet brought forth matter from the eternity of space.’ The air became so cold that each word seemed to tumble from his mouth like blocks of ice. ‘Nun and Naunet parted the primeval waters.’ The stone underfoot rumbled. ‘Amun and Amaunet breathed life into the formlessness.’

A wave of numbness swept across Sal: he didn’t look down, afraid that his skin might have turned as thick and leathery as parchment. Around him, out of the shadows that had replaced the daylight, appeared eight enormous faces, all wrinkled and long with mournful mouths, slitted nostrils and protuberant eyes. Four possessed intricate tattoos, the like of which Sal had never seen before. The other four exposed curved, pointed teeth.

The faces surrounded the strange brown land on which they stood. All eight stared at Sal with an eerie fixedness that didn’t fade in the slightest, even as the world around them returned to normal.

‘They protect the gods with their shadows,’ Tatenen concluded, ‘and I am the stone that binds them. I, the Lord of Tomorrow, am here to advise you.’

Sal shuddered. ‘I didn’t ask for your advice.’

‘That doesn’t mean it’s worthless.’ In the unnatural darkness, Pukje looked much more substantial than he had before. Shadows clung to his diminutive form like robes as he paced in a wide circle around Tatenen and his three former passengers. His eyes gleamed with an unearthly light. ‘The Old Ones existed long before humanity or my kind came along. They were the gods’ gods, back when being a god actually
meant
something — before treachery and betrayals, and Cataclysms, and beings from beyond, when gods weren’t predators devouring the souls of their worshippers and demoting everyone else to lowly deii, fit for administration and feeding the cattle. No, the Ogdoad, the Eight, the Old Ones, call them what you will, have their roots in the deeper fabric of the universe, in the dance of realms that made our world what it was and could be again. They are the living faces of magic and destiny, and although they rule here in much reduced form, they are still potent. They are the
essence
of potential. You would be wise to listen to them when they speak, for they do so rarely and to very, very few.’

‘There are no gods,’ said Kail, his voice breaking Pukje’s spell like a hammer through glass. ‘There are no gods,’ he repeated, ‘except those we allowed to rule as gods, and they were deposed in the Cataclysm. They rule no more.’

‘And what sort of world is this?’ countered Tatenen, raising his head and standing with the fluid grace of a cat. ‘This stone on which you stand is to your world what your world is to the one we once knew. You cannot imagine such greatness. Do not judge those who held dominion over what was. You are not fit to stand in their presence.’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ Kail held out his hands palm up and lifted them, as though weighing Tatenen’s words and finding them wanting. ‘You’re pretty quick to judge, yourself. What gives you the right?’

‘I tamed the Old Ones.’

‘So you said, but what does that mean? All we’ve seen so far could be an illusion fit to frighten the ignorant. Well, I’ll confess to being ignorant; I’ve never heard of these so-called Old Ones and I’ve never heard of you, either. But I’m not frightened — and I’ll not bow to you or anyone out of fear. You have to earn that privilege.’

Kail’s defiant stance gave Sal time to conquer the overwhelming sense of strangeness that had gripped him since landing. ‘It’s okay,’ he said to the tracker. ‘Let’s hear him out. I’d rather not argue. Every minute we waste here is one more before we find Shilly.’

‘I’m not sure this one ever intends to take us there,’ said Kail, indicating Pukje. ‘But if that’s your wish, I’ll bite my lip. For now.’

Pukje puffed up his child-sized chest. ‘I resent the implication that I’ve lied to you. I always keep my word — although I may give you more than you bargained for along the way. That’s just part of the service.’ His face split into a mischievous grin. ‘Sal will see his Shilly again. I will do everything in my power to ensure that.’

‘I told you. She’s not
mine,’’
Sal said with genuine irritation, ‘and I’m not going to believe you until you come good on your promise.’

‘Which I will, in due course.’ The imp resumed pacing. ‘Be patient. You haven’t heard Tatenen’s advice yet.’

‘Okay, then.’ Sal ran a hand across his tired eyes. His face ached from exhaustion and stress. ‘Tell us, Tatenen, what you want me to hear.’

‘Yes.’ The tall man bowed his head, and Sal feared that he would descend to one knee again. But the obeisance was temporary; the bright green eyes immediately came back up and stared at Sal. ‘The end times are imminent. They reverberate through all these lands, and through time itself, casting echoes of what’s to come backwards to us who await the event. These echoes are impossible to read, except in terms of what might be. Can you tell the shape of the original wave when its faded remnant arrives at the far shore? You, wild one, are such an echo — strong in the old ways as few have been this long millennium, but as all are when the First, Second and Third Realms are joined. To us you are hope, that the world that once was will return. You are the sign that we have been waiting for.’

‘Do you understand?’ asked Pukje, coming around from Sal’s right hand to look up into his face. ‘The Eight ruled when the three realms you know of weren’t separate, but one, and their power is diminished when the realms are apart. They see in you the chance that the separation of the realms is about to end. They hope that you will be the one to undo the damage done long before Yod came onto the scene — when the natural order of things was disrupted by those you humans and others worshipped as gods.’

‘Wait.’ Sal held up a hand. ‘The Old Ones want me to unite, not just the First and Second Realms, but the Third as well. Is that right?’

‘Yes,’ said Pukje.

‘And they think that my being a wild talent in some way proves that I’ve succeeded — before I’ve even tried?’

‘Yes,’ Tatenen intoned. He stood with legs slightly apart and both hands gripping his slender staff. A look in his viridian-coloured eyes forbade argument.

‘But what about Yod?’ Sal wasn’t going to roll over and accept a fate he hadn’t asked for. ‘If the realms are united, won’t Yod win?’

‘Not if we gain control of all three at once,’ Pukje explained.

‘And how would we do that?’

‘Simple. By permanently bonding the twins together and asking the Goddess to light the Flame for us. With the three realms combined, the Eight will be strong again. Yod won’t stand a chance against them. It’ll be over in seconds. See?’

There was a small silence. Beside him, Sal felt Highson lean forward slightly, as though about to speak, but when Sal glanced at him his lips were tightly closed. Highson had created the Homunculus in which the twins now lived; if anyone could make that bond permanent, it would be him. That he didn’t immediately volunteer reinforced Sal’s own gut-feeling that they needed more information before agreeing to the simplest of plans.

‘What flame?’ said Kail.

Pukje sighed. ‘Don’t you people remember
anything?’
With a world-weary expression, he began to explain.

Kail listened with a growing feeling of disorientation as the revelations kept coming: Sal’s wild talent was the echo of a future victory over Yod; the Homunculus would be the tool by which humanity reunited realms he hadn’t even known existed until a fortnight earlier; the Goddess was real and trapped in a Tomb built from the remains of Sheol, once the gateway to the Third Realm; the Tomb was currently to be found deep under a glacial lake at the very top of the mountain range they were ascending; if the twins weren’t already there, they would be soon, and Shilly wasn’t far behind.

He had crossed the boundaries of his normal existence when he had entered the Hanging Mountains. Now those boundaries were so far behind him he wondered if he would ever see them again.

‘So that’s how the twins will save the day,’ Sal said, thinking it through aloud. ‘They kept the First and Second Realms together by being stuck in the Void. If they make their connection permanent, and join the Third Realm as well, the realms won’t ever bounce apart.’

‘That’s right,’ said Pukje encouragingly. ‘That’s what the seers are picking up when they say the Homunculus is important. They don’t need to see all of the picture to know that much.’

‘I too did not understand,’ said Tatenen. ‘When one of the mirror twins came to Tatenen on his journey along the Path of the Holy Immortals, he was tested, as all were at that time. The Old Ones marked him as under their protection, against my wishes. They knew that we would need the mirror twins in future times. That we would need them now, upon your arrival.’

‘You see?’ said Pukje with a sly wink. ‘They can’t act without you.’

‘And why’s that, exactly?’ asked Sal, looking confused again.

‘They’re trapped here, for one. This single fragment of the old world is the only place left in which they can exist — in which anything like wild talent still belongs — and it’s a prison. They can’t leave its borders without falling to dust, just like everything else they knew.’

‘And when it’s done…’ Sal grappled with details while Kail was coming to grips with the big picture. ‘… everyone will be like me. A wild talent? Is that what Tatenen meant, before?’

‘Essentially, yes.’ Pukje took his measure of the young man with one long, slow look. ‘Does that worry you?’

‘No.’ In fact, Sal looked relieved.

Kail knew he was thinking of Shilly. Shilly, who had no talent for the Change and had always, behind every demonstration of understanding and acceptance, desired what came so easily to her lover. Would Sal go so far as to accept the plan just to give her what she wanted?

The wrinkled, lumpy visages of the ancient gods watched the debate with a disinterested air.

‘What do they say?’ Kail asked Tatenen. ‘Why don’t they speak for themselves?’

‘They have grown weary waiting for this day,’ the tall man said. ‘They conserve what little strength remains for the tests ahead.’

‘Convenient.’

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘That you want something for yourself, not them at all’

‘Why do you mistrust us, Habryn Kail?’ Pukje asked. The strange little man’s expression radiated puzzlement and hurt, but Kail didn’t let himself be fooled.