every guard within a hundred leagues rushed to protect Sirus, Ba”al”uz withdrew the stopper
once more from its vial and wiped it gently, caressingly, against Allemorte”s wrist as the baron
tried to grab at the back of a chair for balance.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Palace of Aqhat, Tyranny of Isembaard
Axis had thought the outside of the pyramid amazing, but it was as nothing compared to
this internal chamber, shaped as a pyramid itself, and about fifteen paces square at the base. Both
walls and floor were covered in intricately carved golden glass of such workmanship and beauty
that Axis was dumbstruck. He walked over to one of the walls, running his hand softly along the
glass.
“This is the Infinity Chamber,” said Isaiah. “The golden heart of Dark-Glass Mountain.
Beautiful, eh?”
“It is…” Axis began, unable to find the words to continue.
“Extraordinary,” Isaiah said. “No one now has the skills to carve glass like this.”
Axis remembered what Ba”al”uz had said about the pyramid. A doorway. A means by
which to touch Creation.
A means to touch the Star Dance again, Axis.
Axis went cold. He glanced at Isaiah, but the tyrant was walking slowly about the
chamber, running several fingers over the carved glass.
That had not been Isaiah.
Wouldn”t you like to feel the thrum of the stars through your body again, Axis?
Wouldn”t you like the power that once you enjoyed? This is a gateway, Axis. Just like the Star
Gate, and if—
Axis blocked out the voice, turning to Isaiah just as the tyrant spoke.
“Tell me what you feel here, Axis.”
It just spoke to me, Isaiah! But how can I speak that, here and now?
“Death. There has been a great deal of death here, although I felt it more strongly in the
black corridors leading to this chamber. There is terror, and it is stronger in this chamber than
elsewhere. There is fear. There is…”
“Opportunity?” Isaiah said, and Axis wondered if Isaiah had, after all, heard the voice
that had spoken to Axis.
“Perhaps,” Axis said. He wanted nothing more now than to get out of here. Stars,
Ba”al”uz had said Isaiah came here and sat for hours at an end. What did DarkGlass Mountain
say to him then?
“You want to leave,” Isaiah said very softly.
“Yes,” Axis grated. He could feel DarkGlass Mountain probing at his mind, feel its
temptations—I can realize all your dreams for you, Axis. Touch the Star Dance again, touch
Azhure again, touch—
Without another word Axis turned on his heel and strode from the Infinity Chamber.
“You didn”t like the Infinity Chamber,” said Isaiah. “Why?”
They had not spoken until they had ridden down the causeway and back onto the
roadway running beside the river. They trotted along this for a little way, then, of one accord,
pulled the horses to a halt and turned them so they could look back at DarkGlass Mountain.
More time than Axis could believe possible had passed since he”d entered the pyramid. It
was now late afternoon, almost dusk, and the sun was sinking behind the pyramid, streaking the
deep blue-green of the glass with long fingers of rust.
Or blood.
“Where will it be safe to speak, Isaiah?” said Axis quietly.
“In my chamber,” said Isaiah, “away from its shadow.”
They turned their horses for the river and did not speak again until they were, indeed, safe
within Isaiah”s most private chamber.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Pelemere, the Central Kingdoms
It was, for almost an entire half hour, a time of the most exquisite joyousness.
Ba”al”uz sank back into the shadows by the hearth, concealed by the gloom, and watched
mayhem erupt at Sirus” lunch table.
Evenor”s murder had been enjoyable—but what Ba”al”uz experienced now was the most
intense ecstasy normally only felt during the climax of sexual relations.
Ishbel, perhaps overwrought by all the anger about her, vomited what little lunch she”d
eaten onto the snowy linen-covered expanse of the high table.
Guards rushed to surround the high table—members of Maximilian”s Emerald Guard as
well as Sirus” palace guard.
Maximilian had shoved Allemorte to one side in order to reach Ishbel. The baron had no
time to recover his balance before Ba”al”uz had stepped smoothly forward from his shadow,
wiped the poison over Allemorte”s wrist as he tried to grab the back of a chair, and then
retreated, unseen and unremarked by all as Allemorte slipped to his knees. He made as if to rise,
but the next moment gagged, turned a horrible shade of gray-purple, clutched at his chest, then
collapsed in convulsions.
Sirus lurched to his feet, his eyes initially on Ishbel and Maximilian, before turning in
bewilderment to look at Allemorte writhing on the floor.
The hall erupted in shouting and cries and the sound of benches and chairs tumbling to
the timber floor as people leapt to their feet.
Within a moment attention had turned from Maximilian and Ishbel to Allemorte. The
poison had done its work in an instant, and where it quickly became obvious that Ishbel was well
(apart from her sick stomach), it just as rapidly became obvious that Allemorte was in his final
extremity.
Sirus was the first to reach him, leaning down and grabbing at the convulsing man”s
shoulder. “Allemorte!” he cried. “Allemorte!”
He was pushed unceremoniously aside by the arrival of a man Ba”al”uz could not name,
but who was immediately recognizable as a physician. The physician grabbed at one of
Allemorte”s flailing hands, held it, an expression of deep concentration on his face, then looked
up, first to Sirus and then to Maximilian, now holding Ishbel to one side.
“He has been poisoned,” the physician said. “He is dying.”
Ba”al”uz raised his eyebrows. The physician had uncommon skill—a depth of intuition
that bordered on the magical. He was wrong in only one respect—Allemorte was not dying…by
now he was very dead indeed.
“Murder!” cried Sirus, and turned instantly to Maximilian. “You murdered him!”
Ba”al”uz had to bite his inner cheek to keep himself from crowing out loud and betraying
his presence. This was too good to be true! Now Ba”al”uz was torn between wanting desperately
to stay and enjoy the continuing drama, or scurrying back to where the Eight waited and regaling
them with the excitement.
The Eight could wait. The excitement here was too good to leave just yet.
As Sirus and Maximilian shouted, and as guards milled, Ba”al”uz studied Ishbel.
She was very pale, and Ba”al”uz thought he could see continuing traces of sickness about
her eyes.
The baby.
Bring her to me, Kanubai whispered in his mind, and Ba”al”uz nodded.
Far away, on the banks of the River Lhyl, the brindle dog lay, head on paws, looking at
the pyramid rising in the sunlight, but seeing nothing but Ishbel Brunelle reacting to the ring”s
call of danger.
The dog had no mind of its own now. Instead the shadows that chased about its skull
were the thoughts of Kanubai, still waiting far below the pyramid.
Kanubai knew that bringing Ishbel to DarkGlass Mountain had its own dangers, but, oh,
the strength that the sacrifice of her child would give him! The baby carried powerful bloodlines,
magical bloodlines, and its sacrifice to enable Kanubai”s rise would give him such power in life
that he would be virtually unstoppable.
Never more would he be trapped.
Never again the bleakness of the abyss, but only that bleakness transferred to the light of
day so that all joy and warmth might be murdered.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Palace of Aqhat, Tyranny of Isembaard
They rode back to the palace in silence, save for an odd comment about the strength of
the river current or the evening chill of the air.
Once at the palace, Isaiah led the way at a brisk walk to his private chambers, waving
aside the murmurs of courtiers and servants. He brought Axis to the large airy room that served
as his dining and living chamber, checked to make sure all the windows were shuttered, then
turned to Axis.
“Well?” Isaiah said.
“It spoke to me.”
Isaiah drew in a deep breath. “Ah.”
“You are not surprised.”
“No. It has spoken to me, as well. Mumbled words at first, but now far clearer. What did
it say?”
“It tempted me with the Star Dance…you know what that is?”
Isaiah shook his head. “Not truly. I have heard of it, but…”
“The Star Dance is the music the stars make in their dance through the heavens. That
dance creates patterns, and those patterns can be manipulated by those with the ability—among
the Icarii race it was the Enchanters—to achieve various ends. The more powerful the Enchanter,
the more powerful the end. The Star Dance filtered into Tencendor via the Star Gate.”
Axis thought back to his first sight of the Star Gate. Buried deep underground, the Star
Gate had initially looked like a pool of blue light. But when Axis had looked deep into it he had
seen the universe, the real universe, not the poor reflection that chased across the night sky.