The Infinity Gate by Sara Douglass

Just as Axis was stretching out though, Inardle suddenly appeared, fully visible, on the other side of the fire.

Axis was so startled — and so angry at her incaution — that he jerked to his feet.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. “If anyone sees you they will —”

“Bingaleal is dead,” Inardle said, then stunned Axis by starting to cry silently.

“What?” Axis said. “How?”

“I don’t know the details, but I felt his death. It was last night. I have been heavy with grief all day. I —”

“Inardle, what are you doing so visible? Someone can easily see you . . . I have felt other Lealfast about and —”

“They have gone, recalled to Elcho Falling by Eleanon. Axis, I do not know the details, but there was deceit and murder, and it involved Georgdi.”

Axis grinned, all his humour returning. Trust Georgdi to come up with some scheme to create mayhem among the Lealfast. Axis wished, very deeply, that he’d been there to take part.

Inardle’s face tightened at Axis’ smile. “He was my brother!”

“Forgive me if I do not share your grief. Besides, have you not spent hours telling me how the other Lealfast are lost to you now? I do not understand these tears.”

“That is because you have no understanding of love, Axis.”

Now Axis lost his humour. “I am glad he is dead. I am not even going to pretend any sorrow or concern for your grief. I hope Georgdi managed to take a few more of your fellows out as well. Now, is there any other news you wish to share? You threaten me by appearing about my campfire, and I am not sure I should believe you when you say that our Lealfast watchers have gone. If Bingaleal can be so easily tricked into death, then you can just as easily be tricked into believing whatever our watchers want you to believe.”

Inardle rose to her feet. “I have no idea why I stay with you.”

“Because you have nowhere else to go, and no one else who wants you. Inardle . . . do you still believe Eleanon did not know of our presence when we left Elcho Falling?”

“If he had he would have killed us.”

“Maybe so and maybe not. I am keeping on alert nonetheless.”

“I would not weep for you, Axis, if you died.”

Axis sighed. “How far is Isaiah now? How long before I reach him? And what is happening with the Skraelings who trail him? Or have you been too lost in your grief today to take note of any of these matters?”

Inardle took a step back from the fire, her form beginning to frost over and then fade.

“Four or five more days of riding should bring you to Isaiah. Angle inland on the day after tomorrow. Maybe you will hit his force at the wrong spot, Axis, and find the trailing Skraeling gaggle instead. I hope to the stars they eat you.”

With those words, Inardle vanished completely.

Chapter 15

Elcho Falling

Kezial reined in his horse, raising his fist to shoulder height to bring the column behind him to a halt.

He’d watched as Elcho Falling had risen — he’d been able to see it on the horizon — and his sense of awe had not abated one bit as he’d ridden closer.

Neither had his sense of danger.

Everything was wrong about this.

Armat should have sent riders with messages (orders, knowing Armat) many days ago.

There should have been Isembaardian scouts everywhere.

Nothing.

There had been some Lealfast overhead, but they had not deigned to descend to speak to him, and even if they had, Kezial would not have trusted them. He’d heard from Armat’s messengers (before they all became strangely absent) that Armat had humiliated the Lealfast in a battle in the central Outlands and that they had joined Maximilian in Elcho Falling when that weakling had raised the citadel.

But now . . . everything felt wrong.

The column behind him, sixty thousand men strong, was fully armed and battle ready. Kezial had his own scouts reconnoitring, and knew that a great mass of Lealfast, hundreds of thousands of the creatures, were camped about the shores of Elcho Falling.

Why were they not inside the citadel if they were Maximilian’s toys?

And where was Armat? Where his army?

And why were there no Icarii around? Kezial had expected to see them in the skies above.

At least the Lealfast hadn’t attacked Kezial or his forward scouts, but again that fact made Kezial nervous.

If the Lealfast were allied with Maximilian, then rightfully they should have attacked his scouts. If the Lealfast were not allied with Maximilian, but now committed to their own cause, then they should still have attacked Kezial’s scouts . . . if for no other reason than they had no cause to love any Isembaardian after what Armat had done to them.

That left the possibility that the Lealfast were now allied with Armat.

But if that was so, then where was Armat?

Kezial could make no sense of it at all.

Everything made his tightly drawn nerves vibrate, sensing danger.

He currently sat his horse perhaps an hour’s ride from Elcho Falling. He could see it clearly: the walls rising as water and then crystal and then stone, high into the sky, the three golden rings revolving slowly about its peak, the lake of turquoise water surrounding the citadel . . . and the enormous encampment of Lealfast that Kezial could now see through his eyeglass and who, to his dismay, were occupying Isembaardian tents.

Kezial sat his horse and wondered if he should simply turn around his army and ride away while he still could.

But ride to where? His homeland was gone, and what else was there of any worth in this godforsaken land save this extraordinary citadel?

Then Kezial tensed even further.

There was a Lealfast approaching in the sky, and, much further back, a rider coming forth from Elcho Falling.

Armat.

The Lealfast man held back until Armat had come close to Kezial (now on full alert and with armed men twenty thick behind and to each side of him), then landed a few paces out from Kezial.

He held out his hands to show that he wasn’t armed, which did not relax or impress Kezial greatly. He knew the Lealfast had powers beyond that wielded by any sword or dagger.

“Who are you?” Kezial said.

“My name is Eleanon, and I speak for the Lealfast,” the man said. “Perchance you have heard of me?”

Kezial grunted. Indeed he had heard of Eleanon. “Were you not the one in charge of that rout when Armat — who I see is but a moment’s ride away now — skewered tens of thousands of you out of the sky?”

The pleasant smile on Eleanon’s face did not slip. “It was but four or five thousand, and it was done to my purpose at the time.”

“Which was?”

“To make Axis StarMan think us fools.”

“And I should somehow believe that you are not?”

“I hope to convince you of that,” Eleanon said. He looked behind him as the sound of hooves grew loud and stepped very slightly to one side as Armat reined in his horse.

“Armat,” Kezial said, very carefully. He did not like the look on Armat’s face. He could not put a name to his concern . . . but Armat did not look himself.

“My friend,” Armat said, and smiled broadly.

Both words and expression sounded and looked so false that Kezial actually reined back his horse a step or two. He noticed also that Eleanon’s smile had broadened a little at Armat’s words.

“What is happening here?” said Kezial. “Speak quickly and plainly, one or both of you, for I am feeling too nervous to rest here for hours listening to involved histories of the past weeks.”

“I have allied with Maximilian,” Armat said, and Kezial gawped at him.

“ What?” he said.

“I ride forth to show my goodwill and to ask that you, too, ally with Maximilian within Elcho Falling and —”

“Neither Maximilian Persimius nor his wife, nor even Axis StarMan, remain in Elcho Falling any longer,” Eleanon said. “Elcho Falling is left under the command of a group of sub-lieutenants. Armat speaks false words.”

“I speak truth!” Armat said, and for an instant Kezial thought that sounded more like the real Armat.

“Armat is a puppet,” said Eleanon. “He has been cursed by Ishbel Persimius so that he speaks only the words of his puppet-master, which is why he sounds so false. His puppet-master is, I believe, Insharah. What you hear issuing from Armat’s mouth is not what Armat wants to say to you — undoubtedly those words are seething, trapped beneath the surface of the curse — but what the traitor Insharah wants you to hear.”

Now Kezial was more confused than ever. “Insharah? I do not understand .”

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