“I know nothing about Elcho Falling,” Axis said eventually. “Nothing of its power, of its lore, of how it works. I am not its lord. How will it respond to me? How can I defend it when —”
Maximilian nodded to a point at Axis’ side, and Axis broke off as he saw one of Elcho Falling’s servants standing there.
“You shall not be our lord,” the servant said, “but we shall be allies, you and I. Whenever you need to speak, then I shall be here.”
“You speak for Elcho Falling?” Axis said.
Something crossed the servant’s face, a strange wild look. “As if I were Elcho Falling,” he said.
Axis looked at Maximilian in astonishment, but when he looked back to the servant to speak to him, he was gone.
“Elcho Falling will listen to you, and will offer advice if needed,” Maximilian said. “It will recognise you almost as if you were me. There may be some constraints, but I doubt they will be too restrictive.”
“And the Dark Spire? What do you expect me to do about that? What shall I do when it grows through all of Elcho Falling?”
“I am sorry, Axis. I do not know. I hope that when Ishbel and I manage to destroy DarkGlass Mountain, then we will either destroy the One or remove his access to the power of Infinity. Maybe, with the One gone, then the Dark Spire will fade and die, too. Maybe. If not, then we can tackle the Dark Spire together, Axis.”
“Hope is an insubstantial thing,” Axis said, “for something of such cold dark magic as that spire.”
“It is all I have to offer you.” Maximilian paused. “Axis, talk to Inardle. I know you think she has betrayed you —”
Axis sent him a bleak look.
“— but I do not think her the utter traitor that you do. She can help. I think all she wants is for you to ask her.”
Axis grunted in dismissal.
“Axis, she stayed here because she loves you. That’s what kept her here. Not me, not Elcho Falling. You.”
“If she had truly loved me then she would have told me —”
“For you to do what? React precisely as you have now? She knows you too well, Axis, but still she stayed.”
“How many have died because of her silence?”
“Talk to her, Axis.”
Axis made a gesture with a hand, dismissing the subject. “Do you know how close Isaiah is?”
“I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Isaiah travels with the Isembaardian general, Lamiah — at least we don’t have to worry about that general as we do Kezial — and, what, some hundred thousand Isembaardians. They are horribly exposed to both the Lealfast and the Skraelings.”
“I know, Axis. I know.” Maximilian sighed. “If I could do something . . . you can’t send out some of the Strike Force?”
“They’d be slaughtered by the Lealfast as soon as they left Elcho Falling’s protection, Maxel. I am worried that the Lealfast might turn their attention to Isaiah. And if he approaches Elcho Falling . . . how to get him and his army inside without loss of life . . . if the Skraelings have left any army to get inside, of course.”
Axis paused. “I am trapped inside this great big bloody citadel, Maxel. I hate being trapped. I hate it.”
To that Maximilian had nothing to say.
It was deep night and Maximilian and Ishbel had said their farewells. They stood now with Avaldamon in a small chamber in the heart of Elcho Falling, small packs lying at their heels.
They were not alone.
“No,” said Maximilian, looking sternly at Serge and Doyle. The two Emerald Guardsmen, former assassins, had accompanied him on his journey from Escator into the heart of Isembaard to rescue Ishbel from Isaiah.
That all seemed so long ago.
“Egalion sent us,” Doyle said.
“I had told him, no,” Maximilian said, knowing he would lose this battle as he’d lost it previously.
“Two extra swords are always handy,” said Serge. “Well, two swords only, as I see that none of you are armed.”
Ishbel laughed. “Oh, Maxel, let them come. I assume it will be all right, Avaldamon?”
“Two more won’t matter,” Avaldamon said.
Maximilian shrugged, then smiled. “I am sure I shall not be sorry to have you.”
Then he turned to Avaldamon. “Avaldamon, how precisely does Elcho Falling transfer us? Will it eject us like it did the One and the Lealfast?”
“No,” said Avaldamon. “Tonight we use a gentler method, one that can deliver us precisely to the place we want, if it can’t actually get us back again.”
“I learned of this only briefly in the Twisted Tower,” Maximilian said. “Mostly I concentrated on the knowledge I needed to raise Elcho Falling.”
“This method is just one of Elcho Falling’s lesser known abilities. All you need do, Maxel, is ask of it what you need, and it shall provide. But —”
“Ah,” Maximilian and Ishbel said together, and Avaldamon chuckled.
“But,” he said, “there is a small price, if you can call it that. It is a matter of balances. Elcho Falling can transfer us to DarkGlass Mountain, but it will need to transfer something back. It will need to know what you want as a counterbalance, Maxel.”
Maximilian frowned. “What did the One counterbalance with in transferring here?”
“He used the Dark Spire, not Elcho Falling,” Avaldamon said. “He needed no counterbalance.”
“I need to pick something at DarkGlass Mountain? In the immediate area?”
“Something reasonably close by, but not perhaps in the immediate area.”
“Does it need to come directly here to Elcho Falling?” Ishbel said. “Or just somewhere ’reasonably close by‘ ?”
“What are you thinking, Ishbel?” Maximilian said.
“Avaldamon?” Ishbel said.
“Reasonably close by would do it,” Avaldamon said.
“How close is ’reasonably‘ ?” Ishbel said.
“For the gods’ sakes,” Avaldamon said. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“Somewhere between Elcho Falling and, say, Margalit,” Ishbel said.
Maximilian’s mouth curved up in a slow smile. “Isaiah.”
“Yes,” said Ishbel, returning his smile. “Isaiah. I think I have thought of a way to aid him. There is something I had heard from the Goblet of the Frogs. Something about Lake Juit.”
She looked again at Avaldamon. “Is it possible?”
“Yes,” he said, “I know what you want to do, and yes, it is possible. I think Elcho Falling might rather enjoy it.” Again he chuckled. “As would the inhabitants of Lake Juit.”
“We should perhaps warn Axis, as well as Isaiah,” Ishbel said.
“Axis can find out in his own good time,” Maximilian said, “and Isaiah . . . well . . . I am sure Isaiah has had to cope with worse surprises in his past.”
“Lake Juit it shall be then,” Avaldamon said.
“Do you think they are actually speaking a different language,” Serge remarked to Doyle, “or is it just me who cannot fathom a word of what they say?”
Chapter 13
Lake Juit and Aqhat
For aeons the River Lhyl had wended its way down from the FarReach Mountains, through the lands now called Isembaard, to Lake Juit, the stretch of water in the far south of Isembaard.
Now, of course, the river was nothing but glass, having succumbed to the One’s malevolent sorceries, but the lake itself was alive and vibrant.
Not even the One could touch Lake Juit, if he even knew of its existence.
Few people had ever lived near the lake. Ever since man had first come to this land, the lake had been reserved for the pleasure of, first, the Chads of Ashdod, then the Tyrants of Isembaard. A few servants lived at the beautiful royal house on its eastern shore and a few watermen trawled its surface and reed banks, but they did so only at the pleasure of the current ruler of the land, to serve his purpose.
Mostly the lake was left to its own devices.
It was a massive body of water, almost a world within itself. For all any Ashdodian or Isembaardian had ever known, it continued south into eternity. Chads and Tyrants too numerous to number had sent expeditions south to map the lake and to discover the lands beyond it, but somehow none of these expeditions ever returned and the curiosities of Chad and Tyrant alike had to remain unsatisfied.
Legend had it that the far southern waters of Lake Juit tipped over a cliff at the edge of the world.
The central portions of the lake were deep, but its shores were bordered with reed beds that stretched for hundreds if not thousands of paces into the lake. These shallows were full of mystery, and known by some to touch the borderlands of other worlds from time to time.
The reed beds were not a place for any to travel unless they were very, very sure of what they were doing. Isaiah had used the reed beds and the lake when he hauled Axis back from the Otherworld, but Isaiah had been a powerful god then, and there were few others who could ever hope to manage such a feat.