‘All that you say may be correct, though I doubt it,’ said Rael, ‘but do you think that by ageing and dying we would improve? And even if that were true, how many would accept it? I, for one, would not. I like being young and strong.’
‘The crystals were the blessing that became a curse,’ said Anu sadly. ‘But I have learned much in these last years.’ The old man smiled. ‘Once I stopped using the crystals my visions became sharper. I see much now that was hidden from me.’
‘Is that why you wished to see me?’
‘In part, Rael. Would you fetch me some water?’ The Questor General rose and moved to a slender table crafted from bronze in the shape of a bush with golden leaves. Upon the bronze leaves lay a long, rectangular slab of blue-stained glass and upon this a clay pitcher and two golden goblets.
Rael chuckled. ‘The gold looks incongruous against the clay,’ he said. ‘I shall send you a more suitable pitcher.’
‘It is suitable,’ said Anu, accepting a goblet of water with a trembling hand. ‘It reminds me that no matter how great our wealth the source of all life comes from the humble earth.’
‘Always the teacher,’ said Rael amiably, seating himself once more opposite the old man.
‘It is my nature,’ agreed Anu.
‘And you are a great teacher, my old friend. Without you the empire would have died. We should have listened to your teachings.’
‘You still should, Rael. But that is a debate for another day. I want you to give me one of the chests.’
The request surprised Rael. ‘For what purpose?’
‘I shall build a new pyramid, to almost the same specifications as that of the Avatar Prime.’
Rael remained silent. The ramifications of the offer were enormous. Such a pyramid would ensure the rule of the Avatars for the next thousand years. ‘How can you do this? The Music is gone. How will you fashion twenty-ton blocks and move them? And if you find a way to do that, how will you raise them into place? It is impossible.’
‘The Music is not lost, Rael,’ the old man told him. The words were spoken simply and without arrogance.
‘Show me!’ whispered the General. From the pocket of his cavernous gown Anu drew forth a small flute. Pushing himself to his feet he stood before Rael. ‘Drop to your knees and extend your right hand,’ he told him. Rael did so. Anu lifted the flute to his lips and began to blow a series of notes, soft as an autumn wind through the grass, light as down, sweet as the first bird call of spring. For a moment only, Rael became lost in the music, and then he saw Anu step onto his outstretched hand. He tensed, expecting the old man’s foot to stamp on his fingers, driving them into the floor. Instead his hand did not move, and the ancient Questor levered himself up to balance on Rael’s palm. The music died away.
‘Rise, Rael,’ said Questor Anu. ‘Lift me to the ceiling.’
Rael rose easily, raising his arm as if it carried no more than a feather. He could feel no weight at all from the old man. ‘Now bring me down,’ said Anu. ‘Lower me to my chair.’
Rael lowered his hand, then took hold of Anu’s bony arm and watched him float gently into the wide armchair.
‘Why did you not tell us?’ asked Rael.
‘What purpose would it have achieved? I wanted other Avatars to pursue the ancient knowledge – to master it. To prove to me there was a future for our race. But none have come forward. Save perhaps Ro, and he is too rooted in the past to stretch his hand towards the future.’
‘But you could have taught us!’ said Rael, torn between feelings of awe and exasperation. ‘These have been difficult years for us. With your powers we could have achieved so much more.’
Anu shook his head. ‘The answers were always there, in the mathematics. But you still do not grasp what I am saying, Rael. My mental powers have increased since I stopped using the crystals. It is mortality itself that gives us the desire to learn, to adapt, to forge new paths into the future. Without that we become locked in place, desiring only more of the same. Now, will you grant me a chest?’