Engor

Julien and the Nine Worlds

Book II
Julien the Emperor

Chapters 63-87

Julien had a terrible night in which his sleep was several times interrupted by awakening abruptly from dreams of falling, and in the morning he decided that it was time to go and consult his personal oracle. So he left Dillik with Subadar and went to the Sang Kang to meet the strange image of Yangdehar of Dahlreng.

The hologram seemed to be completely up-to-date with the latest developments, which Julien supposed was not too surprising, given that the artificial character probably used the same network of sensors as the archives, and he had already seen that the archives apparently knew everything.

"A first analysis of the data gathered hitherto leads only to projections whose reliability fails to reach a threshold of…"

"Yang, I don't need a lecture on your methods," interrupted Julien. "I'm not in the mood for a session of technical gobbledegook. Please speak plainly."

"Forgive me. I know you had a bad night."

"I certainly did. So?"

"It is impossible to deduce with any computable probability what might have happened to the Noble Brother Ambar and the Tsenn kenn Yülien."

"That's really helpful!"

"But I can make up a story, if you'd like to hear it."

"Go ahead."

"Since the target-klirk worn by Lord Ambar has disappeared, there are three possibilities. One, that your Tsenn kenn jumped them into a star. Two, that they were abducted by a Neh-kyong or a Dre Tchenn. And three, that Yülien took his companion into the territory of a Neh-kyong."

"If that's the case, what can I do?"

"You could summon a Neh-kyong and ask him for help in exchange for a trade of some sort. Or you could summon a Dre Tchenn, who would demand a sacrifice."

"Are you suggesting that I use the Dark Arts?!"

"Certainly not – in fact you have sworn not to use them. But it remains a possibility."

***

Wenn Hyaï, we're going to have to inform the Major Circle of the Guides what is happening, and I don't want them finding out about it from anyone else.

I'll deal with it, Julien. Maybe we'll be lucky and one of them will come up with a plan.

I doubt it, but if it does happen I'll certainly give it a try. Otherwise I think I'm going to have to ask a Neh-kyong.

A Neh-kyong?! Excuse me, but whose idea was that?

I… went through some of Yulmir's personal records.

I know you've had dealings with them in the past, but I don't know if they'll be able to offer much help in this situation.

Got any better ideas?

***

"Subadar," asked Julien, "where do you suppose I could find a Neh-kyong who might be willing to help me?"

"Julien, I really don't think a Neh-kyong would be of much help here."

"Well, I'm not just going to sit here doing nothing. It's already half a day since they disappeared. If they could find their own way back I'm sure they would have done it by now, and nobody seems to have any alternative suggestions."

"It's not easy to understand the Neh-kyongs. They don't have the same motivations that we do."

"All the same, I have dealt with them before, and Yulmir did so plenty of times."

"Yes, but with Tchiwa Ri Kor it was fairly simple: you were offering him a gift, and all he had to do in return was to keep people away from the area. This time you don't have anything to offer."

"Oh yes, I have."

"Really?"

"Yes. I've got the Nyatchoung Ling islands. Now that there's been an atomic explosion there, nobody will ever be able to live there. Perhaps a Neh-kyong would be really happy to claim it as his territory. I was intending to try doing that anyway: right now people are too scared to go anywhere near it, but we can't post a watch there for the next thousand years to try to stop idiots going there and contaminating themselves."

"You're right, and it would be a good way to solve the problem. But that doesn't mean that even a Neh-kyong will be able to help us."

"I'm going to try, anyway. How should I set about it?"

"It would probably be best to do it the same way as you did with Tchiwa Ri Kor."

"Subadar, we don't have time to organise a complete expedition with a flybubble!"

"Obviously not, even though that would be the best way to do it with minimal risk. You could simply jump to the islet closest to the island where the explosion took place. It'll be contaminated, obviously, but you could wear a suit like the one you used last time. That should enable you to stay for half a day or so without too much risk. I'll be coming with you, of course."

"I don't want to deprive you of a nice outing from the Palace, but I really think I can manage without you. After all, I'm the only one who can actually negotiate with a Neh-kyong."

"Julien, I beg you – let me come with you."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't see why you can't come. I'm going to get Wenn Hyaï to drop one of my target-klirks on the island, because I don't yet feel quite secure in my ability to navigate without klirks when I have a passenger with me, and I'm sure you don't want to suffer the consequences if I mess it up."

"I'm sure there's no danger of that. Wenn Hyaï says there's nothing more he can teach you."

"Wenn Hyaï is too kind and he underestimates his skill as a teacher. In any case I don't want to take any chances. It's worrying enough just having to wear a protective suit."

The two castaways didn't get a lot of sleep. By now they were feeling quite hungry and very thirsty, and they found themselves thinking more and more about dew-covered mugs of raal. The fact that they had no way of measuring time, combined with the constant and unchanging light, made it worse for them: they felt as if they were imprisoned out of time and with no way of knowing when they might be released.

They needed to find some means of getting back to the Known Universe, and Ambar knew that they had to do it quickly, while they were still capable of thinking coherently and before the lack of food and water started affecting their ability to reason. So, after he and Yülien had both tried in vain to dissolve the box, or even just to leave it, he started doing what he was best at: thinking.

By this stage he was fairly sure that what had happened to them was as a result of his thinking about complex mathematical models. He knew enough about the Guides and the Outside, and indeed about the nature of space itself, to work out that being in touch with his mental processes had triggered something in Yülien, something not unlike a normal jump but in a direction which had not previously existed, or rather, which had not previously been detected. Although he supposed it possible that previous such jumps had taken place, but that the jumpers had never returned…

I'm going to try to reproduce what I was thinking when we jumped, he said. Don't do anything: just pay attention to what's going on inside my head.

But what if it makes us jump again?

That's what I'm hoping for. If it works, maybe I can try to find a way to change the direction of the whole system.

I'm scared, Ambar.

So am I, but if we don't do something we're going to die here. So…

All right.

Ambar took a deep breath and, as he had learned from the Guides who had taught him, put himself into the computing trance which was the state which the Guides – lacking an opposable thumb and so unable to write – had used for thousands of years to manipulate the symbols they used in their computations.

As he juggled the vectors and tensors in his mind, trying to get them into exactly the correct configuration, he saw clearly among the familiar elements that comprised the tools of his Art the spontaneous appearance of something new, a factor which he had never noticed before. In the same way that a chemist might notice the formation of a new substance that he hadn't expected, Ambar noticed the presence of a tensor of a hitherto unknown nature, but one which was nonetheless the product of the well-organised structure that he himself had created.

He hesitated. Previously – at least until the most recent unfortunate adventure – nothing he had thought up had had any adverse consequences. He had been free to follow his computations to the nth degree without fearing any negative repercussions except the possible demolition of whatever theory he was pursuing. But here he felt sure that he was looking at the element that had caused the catastrophe, and he was afraid that manipulating it could make things infinitely worse than they already were.

On the other hand, it was quite possibly the key to their escape from wherever it was that they were currently trapped…

He decided to continue to build his mental construct, but much more slowly and carefully than he had in the Palace, adding just one element at a time.

As he had been instructed, Yülien simply immersed himself in his friend's mind without doing or reacting to anything.

And then it happened again: they more or less jumped once more, even though it had very little in common with a standard Guide's jump.

***

This time Ambar was prepared, and although it took a huge effort he was able to maintain the configuration in his mind. The horrible sensation of being everywhere and nowhere and the sickening feeling of falling combined to make him nauseous, but he desperately needed to be able to scan in greater detail that key element whose presence had previously eluded him. And in order to do that he had to remain calm and do nothing. Space, time and various other nameless attributes and dimensions swirled around them, scattering his self-awareness in the way that a reflection in the water of a pond is scattered and reformed by a light breeze.

Time wasn't actually passing: instead it had shattered into an infinite number of simultaneous events, utterly at variants with the way it flowed when seen in Real Space, and even Yülien, who had some experience of the atemporal chaos of the Outside, was completely lost and was soon just clinging to the only thing that was familiar and comforting: the presence of his friend.

And then, for an instant, he saw things as Ambar did. He saw clearly what Ambar was concentrating on: that alien element which was interfering so mysteriously with the delicate and well-constructed architecture of his mathematical construction. And although Yülien was unable to follow, or even begin to decipher, the complexities of Ambar's construction; he recognised immediately the familiar object that his companion was concentrating on: indeed, any Guide would have recognised it as the equivalent of an inner compass which, even when there was no physical reference point available, would show the direction and sense of the 'push' he was giving.

When Yülien had that flash of recognition Ambar felt it immediately, and the strange element revealed itself as a complex but logical system of hyperspatial coordinates that fit perfectly into the much larger system he had imagined. It offered a way for them to gain some control over their current uncontrolled drift, but although he saw clearly what they had to do Ambar didn't feel equipped to handle it.

You'll have to help me, he said.

Just show me what you want me to do.

In fact it turned out to be less difficult than Ambar had feared. In their current state of semi-osmosis he just had to want to accomplish an action for Yülien to feel the need to do it, completely intuitively. It only took them ten minutes of objective time to put a stop to a lot of the effects that were preventing them from concentrating. If Julien had been there he would have compared what they were doing to trying to tune in an old TV, on which an image would appear little by little from a muddle of confused lines and electric snow.

The first positive result of their 'frequency tuning' was that, just as images multiplied by optical effects can overlap and eventually become one, so the multiple and fluctuating localisations of their point of view merged into a single point of view which was that of what they considered to be 'I'.

They could see that they were in an environment which had no real meaning, but one at least in which their senses could cling to basic notions such as 'up', 'down', 'close' and 'far'. However they didn't 'see' in the conventional sense, using their eyes to receive and focus light: instead they saw the way Guides see in the Outside, using a sort of altered perception in which colours that are not really colours address senses other than sight. But they were only marginally interested in their kaleidoscopic 'landscape'. Now that they felt a bit calmer they were able to perceive something far more worrying: they were not alone!

This chunk of rock, pummelled by the sea and lashed by a squall of rain that threatened to turn into a full-blown storm, barely deserved to be called an islet. It took about ten minutes to walk from one end of its barren rock surface to the other, and the only people who had ever taken any interest in it were the fishermen who had previously come to harvest the rich shallows full of fish but who now avoided the accursed place along with the rest of the archipelago.

Each wearing a protective suit, Julien and Subadar had jumped onto the target-klirk left there for them by Wenn Hyaï. Julien had the various steps of the summons to a Neh-kyong clear in his mind and he accomplished them flawlessly while Subadar stood off to one side, ready to help him if necessary.

Immersed in the peculiar trance which gave him access to the disconcerting universe of the Neh-kyongs, Julien soon started to notice the presence of entities attracted by his call, and he was again conscious of being investigated by them rather in the way that a dog sniffs around something new, just as he had been in Tchiwa Ri Kor. And once again a Neh-kyong approached him.

"Human-Julien Berthier-Emperor of the R'hinz ka aun li Nügen-Lord of the Nine Worlds-Unique Guardian of the Powers and Gifts. Whom do you call?"

"I am calling a Neh-kyong, that he might take possession of a part of the World of Dvârinn, to be his for ever."

"Of which place do you speak? The place where you stand is of little interest."

"This place is only a small part of what I have to offer."

"Indeed – I see that you are proposing a group of what you call 'islands'."

"Yes – the Nyatchoung Lings, to be exact. I offer it as a gift, asking no return except that you should forbid access to it by any creature of this world, dead or alive. I offer this entire archipelago and the sea around it, to cover an area five times as wide as the length of the largest island."

"I will accept that gift if you have the power to bestow it."

"I do have that power."

"Then I pledge to respect your conditions. But I see that you also expect something more of me."

It was theoretically possible to build a mental wall strong enough to keep out the curiosity of a Neh-kyong, but Julien had nothing to hide.

"That's true," he said, "but it isn't a condition of the deal. The Nyatchoung Lings are yours, whether you agree to help me or not."

"The Neh-kyongs rarely grant favours."

"I know. It is a personal favour, and I'm ready to repay it any way you wish."

"That will not be necessary. The ones you are looking for are not in what you call our world."

That came as a nasty surprise, and it shook Julien so badly that for a moment he almost lost the mental stability which kept him connected to the Reality of the Neh-kyong. He didn't doubt for one moment that if his friends had been in that plane of reality the Neh-kyong would have been aware of their presence. It looked as if the last door of enquiry had just slammed in his face.

"Thank you," he said.

"Human-Julien Berthier-Emperor of the R'hinz ka aun li Nügen-Lord of the Nine Worlds-Unique Guardian of the Powers and Gifts, you should not consider that those you are seeking are definitively lost. There are other places, other… universes. Other systems of reality. They may be in a place where even a Neh-kyong cannot perceive their presence."

"I hope you're right."

"I am stating a fact."

"Good. Now I think it is time for us to seal our agreement."

"Then I declare that this place, called Nyatchoung Ling, is henceforth my exclusive domain, and that when you and your companion have left it nobody shall come within its limits or, should they enter by force or by stealth, leave it again, either dead or alive. Chaos is our witness, and I trade a Drop of your blood for an Instant of my life."

And, as had happened with Tchiwa Ri Kor, Julien was permitted for an instant to see the world as the Neh-kyong saw it and to experience a joy more devastating than an ocean of fire, a happiness which was as unfit to be tasted by a human mind as strong liquor is unfit for a newborn infant.

***

Once they got back to the Palace Julien reported the results of his transaction to his friends, and while they were delighted to learn that the Nyatchoung Lings were no longer a threat, the announcement of Ambar and Yülien's complete disappearance came as a nasty shock. Until now nobody had wanted to face up to such a terminal possibility.

Julien, said Xarax, Xarax does not believe that they are dead. Xarax does not feel them, but he does not think that they are dead.

That Xarax had slipped back into his old habit of referring to himself in the third person indicated clearly how troubled he was. And although Julien trusted the haptir, he felt that such a tenuous hope was hardly comforting.

They were not alone, and the beings that they could sense around them were definitely not friendly. Of course Ambar had never heard of HP Lovecraft, which was probably just as well, because if he had he might have recognised some frightening similarities between some of the creatures described by the tormented novelist from New England and the disturbing entities that they could sense all around them now.

During his brief visits to the Outside Yülien had learned about the terrors which could arise and take concrete form if one's mental control wasn't strong enough, and the panic that could ensue if control wasn't regained quickly. That control was one of the hardest things for a Guide to learn, and it was the reason why so few of them qualified to make journeys outside the controlled network of the klirks. So, despite the ordeal of the past few hours, he still reacted automatically and followed the teaching of his masters to attain once again the near-absolute calm which is the fundamental state necessary to enable clear thinking.

However, the horrible things prowling around didn't vanish as they should have done. And if they didn't vanish it had to be because they had another source, and it could only be his companion.

Calm down, Ambar, he said.

I am calm. I'm not a Guide, but I know what happens in the Outside. Julien told me, and so did Wenn Hyaï and all the other Guides I have met. Whatever those things are, I'm not making them.

The implications of that were distinctly scary.

You mean, you think they really exist?

I don't know.

In fact Ambar was as sure as he could be that they were in the presence of entities every bit as real as they were themselves. And although in his own field he was a genius capable of outstripping many of his seniors, at the same time he was still just a young boy, loyal and unusually courageous but still susceptible to fear. And if there was a time to be afraid, this was clearly it. He would have given anything for Julien, Niil or any adult to have been there to take charge of the situation, but they were on their own, and he knew it was essential that Yülien didn't realise quite how scared he was.

It's coming! said Yülien.

It was true: something was now vaguely 'visible'. They began to see images in their mind: swarming things, crawling things, alive and pulsing unpleasantly. Things that were bigger than they were and gave off a stale odour of rotten food, mingled with occasional whiffs of something sharp and bitter as bile. Things moving towards them with vaguely obscene appendages… things obvious hostile and dangerous:

"Ambar!"

This time Yülien had yelped aloud in terror: one of the Things had TOUCHED him!

Touched… and that touch against his flank filled him with absolute disgust and total despair, because it wasn't like being touched by some disgusting and probably poisonous slime: no, here the touch was also inside his head, filling it with a vile torrent of filth, a revolting mixture of images and emotions – and the very fact that he was capable of actually being able to perceive the foul flood somehow made him feel that everything that was good and lovable about him was being swept away, leaving him as no more than a husk of a Yülien, unworthy of life, an offence to the world in which he lived and, above all, unworthy of being close to someone like Ambar.

Ambar acted instinctively. Spurred on by the terror which was starting to contaminate him, and perhaps even empowered by it, he visualised the box in which they had already taken refuge once. Yülien's Gift, or whatever else had worked the first time, did the rest.

***

Ambar! It touched me! It touched me!!

Yülien was crying and close to hysteria, so Ambar held him as tightly as he could and tried to calm him down and comfort him.

I know, he said.

I'm ashamed!

You shouldn't be. You're the same as you've always been.

No, I'm… I'm disgusting! Leave me alone!

Yülien struggled, trying to escape his friend's embrace.

You're not disgusting – and even if you were I wouldn't care. You're my Chenn-da.

Noooo!!!

Yes! And you can't do anything to change that.

But you didn't see…

Yes, I did. I saw it and I felt it. It was just trying to hurt you, that's all.

But…

"Yülien," said Ambar aloud, "we're going to get out of here. But I can't do it on my own. You're not going to abandon me, are you?"

Just being able to exchange a few words with the one person he was sure would never reject him had been enough to calm the young Guide down a little and dissipate some of the tension which had threatened to overwhelm him.

What are we going to do? he asked. They'll be looking out for us now! We're going to be stuck in this box for ever!

Calm down. I won't let anything hurt you.

I'm scared!

Of course you're scared – it's perfectly natural.

I don't want to go back there!

Well, we can try to go somewhere different, but I can't promise anything.

I'd rather die than go back there!

That's what is certainly going to happen if we stay here. But if you're sure, then all right – at least we can die together.

I don't want to die.

And I can't get us out of here on my own. I'm not a Guide.

***

It took them about an hour to regain the level of calm and courage necessary to make another attempt to leave the box, although in view of the circumstances that was actually quite quick. It helped that they were now starting to get quite hungry, and that they were plagued with thirst, and they were also feeling exhausted: they felt that they had to try soon or it would be too late.

Ambar used everything he knew to prepare a second jump for them; one that would keep their stay in the dreadful environment they had found themselves in previously to an absolute minimum. He had an instinctive understanding that if they could still save themselves it would mean going further than they had already gone, and consequently he was getting himself ready for some more exploring.

Once again the box that had protected them was replaced by a hostile universe, and this time as soon as their position had stabilised the menacing presences rushed towards them. But this time Ambar was ready: it only took a moment to establish his second configuration in his mind and to order Yülien to jump.

Nothing happened.

Ambar tried desperately to overcome his shock and visualise the box once more, but darkness overwhelmed them before he could even envisage something as simple as a cube.

> Communication test.

> Conscious entity of nature not yet determined 1:

Protocol [preparation first contact]:

> Determination language centres

Positive detection

> Determination fundamental intelligence

High, to be re-evaluated

> Determination logical aptitudes

Very high, to be re-evaluated

> Determination other aptitudes

Non-effective dispositions for direct empathy

Partially effective dispositions for topological modelling

> Determination emotional schemes

Complex

Psychic><physical link: strong interaction

Protocol:

> Activation/stimulation central nervous system

Activation/stimulation positive

> Activation/stimulation proprioceptive functions

Activation/stimulation positive

> Neutralisation inhibitors consciousness/awareness

Neutralisation effective

Protocol:

> Generation/implantation universal basis

Implantation correct

> Progressive stimulation auditive centre

Stimulation positive

> Pseudo-conversational simulation

Simulation operational

End protocol [preparation first contact]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

> Communication test.

> Conscious entity of nature not yet determined 2:

Protocol [preparation first contact]:

> Determination language centres

Positive detection

> Determination fundamental intelligence

High, to be re-evaluated

> Determination logical aptitudes

High, to be re-evaluated

> Determination other aptitudes

Effective dispositions for direct empathy

Effective dispositions for trans-spatial topological modelling

> Determination emotional schemes

Complex

Psychic><physical link: strong interaction

Protocol:

> Activation/stimulation central nervous system

Activation/stimulation positive

> Activation/stimulation proprioceptive functions

Activation/stimulation positive

> Neutralisation inhibitors consciousness/awareness

Neutralisation effective

Protocol:

> Generation/implantation universal basis

Implantation correct

> Progressive stimulation auditive centre

Stimulation positive

> Pseudo-conversational simulation

Simulation operational

End protocol [preparation first contact]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ambar emerged from the void with the unpleasant impression that someone had dismantled his brain and put it back together in a rather unsatisfactory way. Furthermore, it was pitch black, although he was aware that at least it was not the same terrible darkness which had previously engulfed…Yülien! Where was Yülien?!

> Yülien. Quadruped conscious entity?

"Yes! Who are you? Where am I?"

> I/me communication interface. Localization biped conscious entity: transit entities isolation/checking/evaluation unit.

"Where is my friend? Why am I in the dark?"

> If 'friend' quadruped conscious entity Yülien, then companion localized isolation/checking/evaluation unit next to present unit. If light desired, answer affirmative.

"Yes! Affirmative! Thank you."

Gradually the darkness was replaced by a diffused light which revealed a completely spherical chamber with featureless matt white walls. Ambar realised that the firm but soft surface on which he seemed to be lying didn't really exist, even though he could clearly feel it against his back. The light continued to increase until it was positively blinding.

"Stop!" he protested. "That's far too bright!"

At once the light started to dim again.

"That's it," he said. "That's perfect. Thank you."

> Explain vocable 'thank you'.

Ambar began to think that he was going to have to spend the next eon or two educating a mentally retarded alien.

***

In fact the alien, far from being 'mentally retarded', was learning at a phenomenal speed, and Ambar found himself thinking that it was actually drawing the answers it needed directly from his brain, rather than relying on his verbal replies. Its understanding of syntax and vocabulary evolved so fast that they were soon able to hold a fairly normal conversation, which was considerable progress. But Ambar found talking a thirsty business.

"Excuse me," he said, "but may I have some water? I'm very thirsty."

> Your central nervous system needs glucose. Should I incorporate some in your water?

"Sorry?"

> Do you want sugared water?

"Yes, thank you very much."

A few moments previously Ambar had sat up cross-legged, and now a transparent cylinder of about half a litre appeared beside his right knee. It wasn't iced raal, but at that moment it tasted like the ambrosia of the gods.

When he had quenched his thirst he decided to reopen their interrupted dialogue. He felt that as he had so far answered every question that had been put to him it was only fair that he should be able to ask some questions of his own.

"You didn't really tell me who you are," he said.

> I am a communication interface.

"Yes, you told me that. Could you elaborate a little, please?"

> I am an autonomous conscious entity functioning at the present time in exploratory mode in order to determine the most efficient processes to establish an exchange of subjective data between yourself and the entity to whom I am reporting.

Ambar took a few seconds to try to digest this information. Although he had a firm understanding of logic he didn't feel that he had enough information to use it properly yet, and so he decided to look on the being he was speaking to simply as 'somebody' until he had more to go on.

"So who's the entity you report to?" he asked.

> I am a singular extension of the non-dual auto-conscious being.

"Er… right…. Thank you. That explains everything."

> I perceive in you some perplexity, as well as… irony I think. If you so desire I can develop my explanation.

"No, I think that will do nicely for the time being. But do you think you could tell me where we are? Are we on a proper world somewhere?"

> You are in a material space organized to maintain your functions at their optimum capacity. But to answer the question you are really asking, you are somehow inside my entity. My entity participates of a totality that you could consider as my body.

"You mean that you are a… a whole UNIVERSE?!!!"

> It is the only way for you to grasp my reality. The contact/communication unity to which you are talking is but an autonomous extension whose auto-conscious being is not different from my entity.

"And what about what's outside… I mean, outside this room. What is there? Suns, worlds, galaxies?"

> According to your way of grasping reality, yes.

"And all that is you?"

> You can perceive it like that.

"So does that make you… a god? Like what the religious people call the Powers?"

> I am sometimes considered as a god. But that does not correspond to reality. I am not almighty, which seems to be the main characteristic of the gods. According to my experience, there is no such thing. But my experience is perhaps incomplete.

"Could you please put me and Yülien together again?"

Yülien immediately appeared beside him.

Ambar! he said. What's going on? Do you have any idea?

I understand that we're more or less safe, at any rate. Are you all right?

I'm fine. He gave me something to drink. But I'm still hungry.

Can you hold on a little longer?

I suppose so.

"Can you send us back home?" Ambar asked the entity.

> No, but I can show you what to do.

"We're not going to run into those…well, I don't know what they were, but they almost ate us."

> They are what you could call guardians. They prevent non-determined/hostile/uncontrolled alien entities from intruding. It is somehow similar to the function which enables your organism to defend itself from other entities liable to impair its optimum functioning. You are now recognized as non-hostile and the 'guardians' will not come near you. Now, would you like me to show you how to go back to your original world?"

"Please may I ask some questions first?"

> The desire to know seems to be characteristic of your species. Ask as much as you like, but my answers will of course be limited by your aptitude to understand.

"That's true. Still… are there others like you?"

> Yes. But we are but a tiny minority among the multitude of manifested 'universes'.

"Then we were lucky to come across you."

> What you call "luck" does not exist. The very nature of your consciousness/mind/intellect is such that the probabilities were extremely high for your speculations to lead you to generate the coordinates corresponding to the manifestation of my non-dual auto-conscious being.

"Really? Well, if it was so obvious, how come nobody did it before I did?"

> Because you are probably the accomplishment of an evolutionary stage of your species.

"But I could never have done it without Yülien."

> True, your two species have entered a symbiotic stage. It is a rather common phenomenon.

"Once we get back home, will we be able to come back to visit you again?"

> If you cannot I will not be the cause.

"Does it mean that it depends on us?"

> Yes.

"All right. Can you show us how to go back now"

***

> End communication.

> Conscious entity of organic nature [Guide/Human]:

Protocol [watch after first contact]:

> Symbiotic species

> Determination intelligence

Superior

> Determination logical aptitudes

Superior

> Determination other aptitudes

Effective dispositions for direct empathy

Superior dispositions for trans-spatial topological modelling

> Determination emotional schemes

Complex

Psychic><physical link: strong interaction

Protocol:

> Activation of permanent benevolent watch

Activation positive

> Neutralisation intrusion-suppressor agents

Neutralisation effective

End protocol [watch after first contact]

The configuration supplied by their host sent Yülien and Ambar directly back to the Outside of their own universe, which was a situation that Yülien would normally have been able to cope with fairly easily. But this time something was different: either because of his stay with the communication unit, or because of the brief contact with the horrible 'guardians' – or even perhaps because of something the 'non-dual auto-conscious being' had done to him – he found that this time around Ambar was able to share completely in his perception of the surrounding chaos. And the result was devastating.

The first time Julien had been exposed to this sort of attack on every one of his senses by an environment which was not meant to be accessed by human consciousness he had been protected by Xarax, who had instantly jumped in to close off all his senses of perception. But Yülien was not Xarax and he couldn't access the subtle mechanisms of his friend's mind – and even if he had been able to do that he would have had no way to change anything.

The panic that overwhelmed Ambar was both immediate and complete and, fused as they were, it also engulfed the unfortunate Yülien, preventing him from being able to access the Orientation Table and leaving only one thought intact in his brutalised mind: get out of the Outside!

Although Yülien was starting to feel fairly at ease within the network of the klirks he had had no training in the more subtle Art of klirk-free navigation, and so also no ability to master it. So it is remarkable that he and his terrified companion didn't simply emerge into empty space, which after all accounts for the vast majority of most universes. Alternatively – a little less likely but still a reasonable possibility – he could have jumped into the heart of a star, because that sort of object exerts, for a careless Guide, the same sort of pull as a magnet has for an iron filing.

Both catastrophes were avoided thanks to a reflex action pitilessly implanted in him by Wenn Hyaï, who had utterly ignored the heartbreaking laments of a student who had accused him of mental cruelty, or even of indulging in the perverted practice of inflicting pain for his own amusement.

It is true that this training would normally have only been inflicted on Guides who were suitable for klirk-free travel several years further into their instruction. But Master Wenn Hyaï had in his wisdom decided that the precocity of Julien's Tsenn kenn left them no option: he had to quash any thought of compassion and inflict the training regardless, because any other course of action would have been not only wrong but also potentially dangerous.

So Yülien had had to repeat ad nauseam the exercise of jumping without thinking, without even having to visualise anything, to a point as close as possible to the First Klirk of Hyaï Ho, the Guides' world of origin.

He was still a long way short of mastering that essential safety technique, but it did at least spare them from an instant and ignominious death. Instead they jumped safe and sound to Hyaï Ho. Some ten thousand metres above the surface, admittedly, but exactly above the granite monolith on which was sealed the most famous klirk in the Known Universe.

***

Xarax came crashing down onto Julien's shoulders, making him drop the precious Garwang porcelain bowl he was lifting to his lips. The bowl shattered on the floor.

They're here! cried Xarax in Julien's head. I can sense them! They're back!

There was no need to ask who the haptir was referring to, especially since at that moment Julien was in the process of giving the Katak clan – whose precious heirloom the Garwang bowl had been – the terrible news about the disappearance of their most promising offspring since Aïn himself.

Sometimes an excess of courtesy or a too careful following of diplomatic procedure can impair efficiency. It took Julien less than three seconds to recognise that this was one of those times, after which he jumped into the Outside, instantly located the target-klirk which was still solidly attached to Ambar's neck, and emerged again as close as he thought was safe.

They were still about three thousand metres above the ground, but the two entwined partners had already reached their terminal velocity and were going away from them, even though Julien had quickly adjusted to the circumstances and had begin to accelerate downwards himself. He didn't need to be within arm's length to take them with him, but if the distance between them was too great the procedure could become extremely hazardous.

Arriving from the Outside into mid-air had caused him some initial confusion, but he quickly realised what needed to be done. And Xarax, who had recovered faster, was already rocketing towards the ground in attack configuration, flying as fast as he was able. Within seconds he had caught up with the unfortunate couple and was able to dig his claws firmly into Ambar's gluteus maximus, which had been left conveniently exposed by the flapping of his laï. Then, spreading his large wings progressively wider, he began to slow their descent just enough for Julien to reach a distance which he had to consider reasonable if he wanted to transport anything other than mangled corpses.

In fact the distance was still anything but 'reasonable', but he still managed to pick the three of them up and deposit them some four hundred metres away. The only problem was that he was so desperate to make sure he didn't fail to catch his two protegés that he spread his catchment area too widely and also picked up a few tons of green grantite that had previously formed part of the monolith. He felt sure that the Major Circle wouldn't be happy with this desecration of their monument, and he also suspected that Wenn Hyaï would disapprove of the way he had rushed in instead of using the combat stasis that would have allowed him to slow down his perceptions and so avoid botching the job, but at that moment he couldn't have cared less: despite Ambar's howls of complaint about the wounds to his tender flesh, mixed with the residue of his shock and terror from the Outside, Julien was positively revelling in unalloyed happiness.

***

Actually nobody offered him the least reproach, and in fact a little later the Major Circle of Master Guides decided unanimously to leave the Monument of the First Klirk in its present truncated state as proof of the dedication of the Protector of the Nine Worlds to the safeguarding of the Noble Species of Guides.

The Katak Clan in particular celebrated a rescue that some of them called 'miraculous' and, as proof of their gratitude, they offered honorary membership of the Clan to Xarax – not a Guide and not even a human, but a haptir of Kretzlal!

Xarax, following advice given discreetly by Wenn Hyaï, showed a sense of diplomacy uncommon in his species by offering his newly-adopted Clan a very rare Garwang bowl of the High Period, thus fortuitously replacing the one which had slipped from the hands of the Protector himself.

***

For the next several weeks the two heroes of the first exploration – albeit involuntary – of what seemed to be another universe were submitted during their mid-morning break to the questions of a few visitors who were greedy for information. The visitors were carefully selected and had to be content with quite preposterously short interviews, with those who tried to prolong the discussion running the risk of being courteously but firmly removed from the premises by a couple of gigantic Palace Guards. But these interviews didn't start until after a few days' recuperation, during which period nobody from outside Julien's circle of friends was allowed near them.

Ambar spent a few days lying on his stomach, and it was purely due to his sunny nature that he didn't once suggest to Xarax that he could have slowed their descent equally effectively by grabbing his laï instead. Although it probably helped that there was a need for a soothing balm to be applied regularly to his injuries, and that Julien was more than happy to carry out that unrewarding task himself…

But although every step was taken to ensure that Ambar's buttocks would remain free of any lasting scar, it did seem possible that he might not easily be able to forget every unpleasant moment of their odyssey. The same was true of Yülien, who had not emerged unscathed from his encounter with the loathsome guardians of the now-famous 'non-dual auto-conscious being'.

However, to Julien's surprise, Wenn Hyaï did not support his suggestion that his Tsenn kenn should be temporarily forbidden from any further practice of an Art which had so nearly proved fatal. The Master Guide instead recommended leaving the two friends together and added that Julien should consider performing as soon as possible the purely formal part of the rite which would make them an officially-recognised Nyingtchik, because in every other way the union was already a fait-accompli. Whether the joining had been a wilful act on the part of the entity they had encountered or the result of the trauma they had been through together was unimportant.

Once the brief ceremony had been performed and the resulting celebratory feast duly shared, Master Wenn Hyaï planned some joint training for them which, even though they might not enjoy it much while it was happening, was designed to give them a far better chance of meeting future hazards caused by unplanned journeys successfully.

Ex-Senior Conqueror Hoctimer had never for one moment considered surrendering to the authorities of the Empire. As resident in charge of the bridgehead that had been intended to subvert the government of the Nine Worlds he was certain he could not expect any leniency, and if he did make the mistake of turning himself in and then let slip any of the darker things he had done when he was probed, as he was sure to be, he was certain that any leaning towards leniency would be replaced by a lust for revenge.

It was true that the brat currently wearing the title of Protector of the R'hinz seemed to be pathetically weak: unlike a worthy leader of men, he seemed reluctant to order the kind of painful and exemplary executions that the situation demanded. But it was also clear that some of the members of his entourage were far more willing to do what needed to be done, and he was sure that at least one of them would be more than ready to make the leader of their enemies pay dearly for the attempted conquest of their realm.

And even if he was stupid enough to surrender and managed not to die during the subsequent torture and probing, the best sentence he could hope for would be to be returned to Dalann, where he would undoubtedly have to pay the price of his failure. The best that could be said for the other alternative, exile on Tandil, was that at least it promised a relatively quick death following a certain amount of pain from the claws of a tak or the venom of one of the other assorted nasties that seemed to thrive on that hellhole of a planet. And that would almost certainly be better than what would follow a return to Dalann.

Of course it was just about possible to imagine a better outcome: if he were to surrender to the other kid, 'Lord' Niil of the Ksantiris, it could give him an opportunity to plead his case in front of his buddy the Emperor, and that might just give him a chance of avoiding the revenge of the Emperor's councillors, who would be sure to do him in if they could manage it without the so-called Lord of the Nine Worlds finding out about it. And the kid might just be soft enough to let him live without sending him back to Dalann. But he would have to be insane to gamble what was left of his life on that sort of vain hope.

Right now it seemed unlikely that he would be caught. He'd personally ensured that the few trusted men who knew who he was would never be able to reveal anything during a probing, because as far as he knew nobody had ever yet found a way to make a dead man talk. And although they were certainly looking for him on Dvârinn and probably also on Nüngen, he thought it unlikely that they would go looking for him among the volcanoes of Zenn R'aal. He still congratulated himself every day for the foresight that had impelled him to go into hiding before things turned really nasty.

He had a communicator that enabled him to receive reports from three agents who were still active – of course they had no idea of where, or even who, he was. He was free to move about under the cover of a merchant travelling on business, although he was reluctant to use Guides. The Guides were not supposed to probe their clients, but he felt it would be stupid to take the chance.

He also had another communicator which allowed him – theoretically – to remain in contact with Dalann, but by now he had stopped responding to calls from the High Command. It was unlikely that a spy from the Nine Worlds could have infiltrated his headquarters on Dalann, but you can never be too careful, and in any case there was nothing his planet of origin could do to help him now.

It was galling: he'd worked so hard to get where he was! A series of 'untimely deaths' had thinned out his competitors, but he had still had to wait for the failure of the last attempt of his predecessor, Conqueror Enndigar, some eighteen cycles previously, before being awarded the prestigious task of bringing their project of conquest to fruition. And now his failure was complete and he could rely on nobody to keep him out of trouble except himself. Fortunately he had access to considerable wealth, and his cover as a prosperous merchant was solid enough to give him time to decide what to do next. He'd have been a lot happier if that fanatical moron Krentir hadn't made life harder for him by blowing himself to atoms on that deserted island in order to activate the marker beacon. A nuclear explosion was absolutely guaranteed to get the Emperor's bloodhounds straining at the leash. It was a good thing the stupid bastard hadn't decided to do it in Ksantir harbour!

He made his decision. He'd wait another two weeks and then leave this rented chalet with its spectacular views of the eruption of Djowo Metchen and go to Tang Loung, where he would be able to retrieve the considerable sums he had carefully siphoned off from his official funds just in case things went wrong, and then he would be able to organise himself a happy retirement.

Tandil was not of course composed exclusively of jungle, although even in places where humans could possibly have lived and worked the local flora and fauna remained so dangerous that it really wasn't practical to think of setting up settlements. Other than a couple of science stations and an official enclave which was used for maintaining courteous but somewhat distant contact with the most intelligent species, the vril birds, the only place that could offer shelter to off-world visitors was the ultra-secret base that had been used for a time by Julien and his friends.

However, there were also the two fairly small polar icecaps, as well as a few areas of desert, and for thousands of years outcast groups of varying sorts had set up bases there. They generally didn't survive for very long, but despite every effort to erase them they still popped back into existence under another form after a while, even if several years passed between appearances. Most of these groups were dedicated to the Dark Arts, and so their principles were entirely at variants with those of the rest of the Nine Worlds.

Of course the Emperor and his advisers were well aware of their existence, and from time to time Yulmir had carried out a purge of the worst and most threatening practitioners of those Arts. This was actually quite a dangerous thing to attempt, and the Protector of the Nine Worlds had on several occasions met a most unpleasant death in the process.

The main difficulty was that proficiency in the Dark Arts frequently called for a relationship with a Dre Tchenn, an entity a bit like a Neh-kyong but which had developed, among other characteristics, a predilection for terror and pain in every form. It was impossible for humans, or indeed for any other inhabitant of what might be called the ordinary, 'real' universe, to understand the motivation, or indeed anything much else, of the Dre Tchenns, but it was possible to establish some sort of contract in which their services could be paid for by the pain of creatures offered to them as a sacrifice. And if you were sufficiently hungry for power, an alliance with a Dre Tchenn could seem to offer enough profitability to justify the high fee charged for its help – especially since that fee usually involved the suffering of somebody else.

This was exactly the situation with the very secret brotherhood of the Sorcerers of Eng'Hornath. It wasn't the only one of its kind, and nor was it the most numerous, although no organisation of that sort had ever claimed more than three or four thousand adherents. By now its numbers had been reduced to around two hundred, but it had existed for more than six thousand years, during which time it had offered its support to every enemy of the Imperial order, be they overt or secret. In fact the Eng'Hornath Sorcerers were the heirs of those who, back in the mists of time, had first learned to communicate with the beings that lived in what had then been called the 'In-between world'.

Unlike the Neh-kyongs, the Dre Tchenns didn't seem to follow strict rules that governed their relationships with other species. For example, they could, if offered sufficient payment, act as guides, and without observing the scrupulous niceties of travel demanded by the virtuous Guides of Hyaï Ho. Naturally the price of that kind of service was both of a different nature and considerably higher than that charged by the regular Guides. But almost any price was worth paying if it allowed you to transport a score of ghorrs, for example. And in any case the brotherhood had no other means of travelling to and from Tandil.

The Sorcerers were, as they had always been, absolutely determined to dispose of Yulmir and everything he represented once and for all. And this time, if the information they had received about the weakness and confusion of the latest manifestation of the Emperor was true, they felt that they had an excellent chance of success.

***

Layaï wasn't supposed to leave the territory of the Yenei Area, but the airstream had picked him up and carried him far further and far faster than he had thought possible. It was most unusual for a great intercontinental airstream to drop so low. Nobody could have found enough strength to fight the strength of the current, which moved several times faster than any flying creature could achieve, and a young vril still some way short of maturity was not the fastest of flying creatures. In order to get back home he would have to descend far lower than was considered safe, probably lower than eight thousand kenks. There would be a lot of predators to look out for, many of them smaller than himself but still very dangerous if they caught you unawares.

Fortunately there was plenty of time before darkness fell, and if he took a detour beyond the crest of the Barrier he could avoid having to fly over the forest for too great a distance. It would add perhaps a third to the length of the journey, but it would be far safer to fly above the desert than to stay close to the tops of the largest trees for any length of time: there were always flying predators lurking around the treetops. Once he got back home he knew he would have to face the wrath of R'rang Naïk and would almost certainly be punished, but that was unavoidable: he would get back far too late for his absence not to have been noticed.

He reduced the lift from his wings and went into a dive, veering to the left towards the chaotic folds of the Barrier Mountains. He was still around fifteen hundred kenks above the black and red rocks when he felt himself leaving the airstream and his speed dropped back to normal. He then steered west, flying parallel to the Barrier, darkened his corneas to filter the sunlight and began to concentrate on getting the best speed possible from his wide emerald wings.

It came without warning: he didn't see it, and he almost didn't feel it either in the fraction of a second before he lost consciousness: the faint prick of the sting of the rakhan, which injected its paralysing venom into the nape of his neck, freezing his motor muscles and transforming his body into a stiff, docile glider.

***

In the near-absolute darkness of the little cell in which he was kept Layaï had no way to measure the passing of time, but a considerable period – perhaps fifty days – elapsed before they came to take him out. He had been given enough food, although he suspected that it had been laced with drugs that were designed to keep him calm and relaxed. The food was brought to him by a human, but he never stopped to wonder about that, even though humans were so vanishingly scarce on Tandil that neither he nor any of the people he knew had ever seen one.

But a little while back he had become aware that there had been a change: he was starting to feel a sort of dull anguish, brought about by an increasing awareness of his predicament. This fear grew steadily as his body flushed out the remnants of the tranquillisers, but it was as nothing compared with the outright terror that swept over him when he finally saw the light of day once more.

The seventeen sorcerers of the Invocation Circle of Eng'Hornath had had to wait for the conjunction of the three black moons, a very rare event, in order to set in motion the sequence of events that would lead to their ultimate victory. And the fact that the conjunction coincided with a total eclipse of the setting Ach'r Ratath (the true name in the tongue of the Old Gods of Nalden, Tandil's sun) made that moment unique and gave an indication of success that was as clear as the passage of the stars themselves.

The Voice of the Circle took his place on the Arrha Stone and started to murmur the first stanza of the invocation as the eclipsed star sank below the jagged line of the Aktael Barrier mountains. He was accompanied by the screeching sounds of the yabbhaï flute and the demmbal drum, and he held in his hand the anghoï hammer, the Bone-crusher, that he would shortly bring down upon the spread wings of the young vril, who was now fully awake and horribly aware of his fate. The vril knew now that the horror stories which had scared him during his clan's funeral services were not simply tales invented to scare children into obedience – indeed, he was about to discover that even those horror stories barely scratched the surface of the real nightmare.

The victim's first howl rang out with perfect precision at exactly the moment when Ach'r Ratath, now almost concealed by the Barrier, was unveiled by Hyerr'lammath, the Second Moon, as it broke from its incestuous union with its elder brother, allowing a final ray of light to shine out from behind the peak of Mount Dannath before giving way to the icy darkness of night.

Basins of naphtha, animal fat and brimstone were lit and started to give off, as well as an unwholesome illumination that emphasised just how hideous this place was, a stench that was – according to the uncivilised and superstitious adepts of the cult – supposed to delight the Old Gods.

Crouching on the vast Arrha Stone in front of the celebrant and his victim was a cloud of darkness that no light could penetrate. This was all that could ever be seen of the One who lurks at the threshold of the In-between-World and who can sometimes be heard whispering in shadows.

He was there in that place just as he was elsewhere; whenever pain was inflicted in his name, he was there.

He was there, drinking in the terror and abject madness which consumed the helpless creature who was kept from sinking into a merciful unconsciousness by the power of the seng juice.

He was there, feasting rapturously on the bitter honey of offered despair.

The Voice of the Circle, fighting not to succumb himself to the fear twisting in his entrails in the presence of the Dre Tchenn, continued his incantations to the slowly-accelerating rhythm of the demented music, which was blended with the high-pitched rattles escaping from the throat of the young martyred vril. He tried hard to control the trembling in his hand so that the zeng thallath blade should not slip and so put a premature end to the life of the trembling creature: it was essential that the victim should not die before the rite was concluded.

Thousands of presumptuous would-be sorcerers had died because they thought that invoking a Dre Tchenn automatically meant that they would then be able to control the creature and use its power. Others believed themselves protected by the deal sealed during the rite. They were wrong. If you're going to get into the business of dealing with entities like a Dre Tchenn you should find out the truth before you start: the only way to avoid being instantly obliterated by the one you are calling is to provide him at once with what he wants, which is access to that most precious thing: the inimitable flavour of a being in a state of the most abject terror.

***

There had been other victims, many of them, as the planet revolved slowly on its axis. Some had been captured long before, and some had been handed over by their kin or members of their community in exchange for favours or the promise of the blessing of the Old Gods. But none had the value of the young vril, just as none of the other guests invited to this feast of death and horror had the ominous power of the Whisperer.

The One-who-is-escorted-by-discordant-madness was also present, if 'present' was a word that could be applied to entities such as this, and in fact it was he who was to offer direct help to the worshippers of his master.

For some time Julien had been in two minds about whether or not to go back to the Sang Kang, but now he decided that he needed to go and talk to the synthetic inhabitant of the place, Yangdehar of Dahldreng: he had questions for him. He'd considered leaving Xarax behind so as not to expose him again to the emotional conflict that the visits caused him, but eventually he had decided against it, because he didn't want to hide things from his haptir, whatever he might discover. And he still thought it possible that he might run into problems there, and he didn't want to try to take them on without the solid support of his companion.

The little room hadn't changed and the Territories board was still set up and awaiting its players. Outside in the dewy garden, a few flowers had just opened to greet the morning sun. Julien found himself wondering if the garden was simply an illusion, or if it could be real – in which case he wondered who was tending it. Then he decided that he was happy not knowing and simply being able to enjoy the tranquillity of the place.

He sat on one of the low chairs, composing himself for a moment while he enjoyed the gentle caress of the perfumed breeze, and then he mentally invoked the presence of 'Yang'.

"I see that Xarax is with you once more, My Lord," commented the adviser.

"Yes, he is. I hope you don't mind."

"I could raise some objections, but I suspect that they would be useless."

"You're right. I've decided that Xarax is going to help me with my research."

"And what is the subject of that research?"

"I need to find out exactly what is going on."

"That is a very wide field…"

"Look, everyone says that I'm Yulmir, but I still have absolutely no memory of it. And the more I find out about him, the more he seems like a not very nice man. In fact I don't think I would have wanted to meet him."

"That could be a rather hasty judgement."

"Even so. And they want me to learn his job – a job he hated so much that in the end he wanted to die once and for all just to escape from it. At least, that's what you implied before."

"That's a bit of a simplification, but I suppose it's accurate enough."

"So what would happen if I decided that Yulmir was right and so chose to kill myself?"

"I doubt if your haptir would let you do that."

I would definitely prefer you not to do that, Julien, said Xarax, but I wouldn't force you to remain alive.

"Did you hear that?" asked Julien.

"Yes. But I'm afraid suicide wouldn't solve things for you."

"Why not? The Sleeping Bodies are all dead."

"But new ones are being prepared."

"But suppose I were to do it today? They can't be ready yet, surely?"

"True, but there seems to be a strong possibility that a similar phenomenon to the one that sent you to Earth would happen – in other words, you would be reborn there."

"But even if I was there wouldn't be anyone on Earth who could send me back to the Nine Worlds."

"Don't be too sure of that. And even if you managed to forbid your friends from looking for you you'd only be putting things off for a lifetime, because once your new existence on Earth came to an end there would be a Sleeping Body waiting for you."

"But I wouldn't be here!"

"That makes no difference. Spatial distance counts for nothing."

"But there has to be a way out of this trap!"

"That's what Yulmir thought. But here you are, so obviously he didn't manage to find one."

"How can you be so sure? Maybe he really is dead and he's just dumped the chore onto me. Who says I really am Yulmir? I certainly don't!"

"Oh, there's absolutely no doubt about it. Anyone who sees you as you really are knows that you are the Emperor. There is no other possibility."

"I get the impression that that suits everyone perfectly – except me, of course. And while we're at it, there's one other little detail that still bothers me."

"I'll do my best to answer it."

"You just told me that as far as the Sleeping Bodies are concerned, physical distance is unimportant."

"That's true."

"But when Yulmir went to Earth the Sleeping Bodies were not dead. Xarax told me he checked personally. He also told me, if I remember correctly, that the biometric indicators couldn't lie. So why didn't Yulmir reappear in a spare body?"

"Because Master Xarax was fooled. When he checked the Sleeping Bodies after Yulmir's disappearance they were already dead. Yulmir had found a way to make the biometric indicators lie. Actually that's not all that difficult, given that the machines were without intelligence and unprotected against interference. Why would they have been? Only the Emperor himself or his haptir could access them. So, of course, it had to be Yulmir: he stopped the anentropic stasis generators for the fraction of a second necessary to interrupt the vital processes of the Sleeping Bodies.

"Do you have any other unanswered questions?"

"Yes, but I think we'll leave it there for now. Unless…"

"Yes?"

"You don't happen to know where the leader of the Dalannis is hiding, do you?"

"No."

"Then that will do for today. Thank you."

"It is always a pleasure to talk with you, My Lord."

***

Xarax, I'm really sorry – even if I can't actually remember doing anything wrong.

There's no reason for you to feel guilty. In any case, Yulmir didn't have any choice: he had to hide what he was doing from me.

Even so, I hope that's an end to the lies.

As far as you and I are concerned I am sure we don't need to keep secrets from each other. But it might be as well not to tell our friends about it. Master Subadar, for instance, would not be happy. And I'm not going to get Dillik involved by telling him, either.

Maybe you're right, but I'm going to have to think about it: I don't like the idea of hiding things from the people I love. All these lies have to stop.

I understand how you feel, but I don't know of any case where a leader – Lord, King or Emperor – has been able to tell the truth at all times and keep his hands clean. Exercising power is a messy business, whatever sort of power we're talking about.

That's precisely why I don't want any power!

Unfortunately you don't have a choice.

But you'll still help me to find a way out of this, won't you?

I will help you as much as I can, even though this situation bothers me a lot less than it does you.

What do you mean?

I like helping you. Maybe you don't realise this, but I love you too.

Wouldn't you rather be free to live your own life and be free to do whatever you want?

I do live my own life, and I am free to do what I want. It just so happens that what I want to do is serve you. I'm very happy as I am.

What about Dillik?

Right now Dillik dreams of becoming captain of a trankenn.

Exactly. How are you going to be able to be with him and with me simultaneously? As the saying goes, you cannot serve two masters at the same time.

Dillik is not my master.

True, but then neither am I.

You shouldn't try to lie to yourself. It's even more dangerous than lying to others.

All right, then, maybe I am your master. But it's only because that's the way you want it.

Exactly. Dillik knows that, and it suits him perfectly. When I'm serving you, he feels that he is too, and he's proud of that.

What?!

You should try to understand this: it's possible to be glad to serve when you do it by choice. Ask your cook. I know that he wept for joy the last time you called to compliment him. And he's rich enough not to need the work, because his family is one of the wealthiest on Nüngen. He serves you because it was a noble way to do his duty. And now he serves you out of love.

Apparently everyone loves me. I'm obviously a lucky boy!

You can laugh, but it's a good thing that you are so easy to love. There are enough people out there trying to harm you.

It was a cool morning, which made a pleasant change from the scorching heat of the past three days. The garden was sparkling with dew and Julien decided to take a little stroll before knuckling down to the inevitable, and mostly boring, chores which took up far more of his time than he would have liked. The sun was still not far above the horizon, so its light was filtered through stands of something that resembled ornamental bamboo, casting a pleasant light on the powder-blue sand paths. As always these paths had been raked to perfection, but the gardeners were so silent and inconspicuous that so far Julien had never even seen one.

He had about an hour before duty would drag him back inside, so he decided to spend the time watching the various creatures that had made their home here. At this time of day he ought to be able to find some of the large scarab-like insects that shone with iridescent colours. Most of them were completely harmless, and by now he could recognise the small number that might be inclined to bite him, so he would be able to brush them away with the back of his hand. But he spent a while standing still, hoping that some of the harmless ones would land on his arm so that he could look at them close up. After all, this wasn't Tandil, where just about anything was likely to kill you or at best inflict nasty burns!

He also saw a few small creatures that were the size of small rabbits and as nimble as squirrels. These uttered melodious little trilling sounds and were seemingly fearless, because they would grab the hem of a passer-by's robe in the hope of being rewarded with the little treats that most visitors carried with them. They had beautiful silky blond fur that glinted with other colours, but they weren't quite tame enough to permit people to pet them, no matter how much that lovely soft fur seemed to cry out for it.

The flowers were both strange and familiar: some had shapes as extravagant as the orchids of Earth, while others emitted a strange, spicy fragrance which reminded Julien strongly that he was a long way from home.

He was crossing one of the little bridges over the stream that meandered through the trees when he first spotted the assailants. There was no need for him to think: all his friends were either away or busy with their usual morning activities, and nobody else was allowed into this garden. As soon as he saw the first shape move a few paces away from him he went into combat stasis, because now his training was paying off: he wouldn't be panicked into a blind reaction again. Here within the grounds of the Palace he had at his disposal the impressive power that Xarax had awakened within him when he had been attacked in the Ocean Rotunda. He had long since memorised the necessary mental pattern and the words that would trigger the devastating burst of fire, and this was undoubtedly the time to make use of them.

"Han Khalimai! To Ganniwey!"

The air seemed to congeal around him, but the fireball he had hoped for failed to appear, and now there were three Yrcadians rushing towards him. He could dimly hear cries and alarms being set off but it was clear that no help would get anywhere near him before it was far too late. He was as usual carrying his nagtri but he had no illusions about his fighting ability: he knew he had no chance against three… no, four perfectly trained assassins whose only speciality was providing violent death. And so he jumped…

***

And the trap snapped shut.

***

Instead of the peaceful landscape of the Orientation Table Julien emerged into another place that he recognised immediately, because he'd seen it before, the first time he had tried to create an environment for himself in the Narthex. This sinister setting was exactly the one that he had spontaneously produced in front of a horrified Master Subadar: the sacrificial altar of a circle of dark sorcerers.

But this time he was not in the Narthex and Master Subadar was not here to reassure him. Instead he was alone, without Xarax, surrounded by a circle of naked, priapic men whose skin was painted with symbols the mere sight of which was like a defilement – and, worse, he was facing a palpitating shadow that was radiating absolute malevolence.

Nearby a drum was beating frantically without any discernible rhythm, but its racket was not enough to drown out the dreadful screeches of a flute whose sound seemed to penetrate the stones and seep into the bones, freezing the marrow.

Suddenly there was silence. In the reddish light thrown off by some braziers which were burning something that smelled obnoxious, the only remaining sound was a moan, and Julien realised to his horror that it came from what he had thought was nothing more than some discarded scraps of meat a few steps away.

That thing was alive! Despite the desperate situation in which Julien found himself he couldn't stop staring at the bloody organs laid out, he could now see, as if for a dissection exercise. He tried to guess what type of creature it had been, but he couldn't find any word to describe the horror of what he was looking at.

The blood-covered stone was still sticky with the fluids that had been drawn from the victim of the past night's sacrifice. Julien stood on it unrestrained but he was not remotely surprised to discover that he was unable to jump to somewhere a long way away, as he desperately wanted to do. Whoever had brought him here clearly had the power to prevent him from using his Gift. And he suspected that the cloud of darkness in front of him was probably responsible for that.

Logically he should have been paralysed with terror, but of course he had had a number of meeting with Neh-kyongs and had twice shared an instant of their existence, and those meetings had made him immune to the effects of the weird quasi-numinous presence of that type of entity. However, that didn't stop him from being afraid. On the contrary, he was horribly aware of the fate that was awaiting him, and he was having to make a conscious effort just to keep his sphincters closed. He'd sometimes wondered how he would cope under torture, and every time he had come to the conclusion that he would have talked. Even the heavily moderated tales of what the Gestapo had done during the war were enough to convince him that he was not a potential hero. And the condition of the creature he had finally recognised as a vril – a VRIL, for God's sake! – was a clear demonstration of just how pain could pass beyond imagination. Just to add to his distress he remembered that, no matter how quickly he acted, his nagtri couldn't help him to choose a quick death instead, because the black blade was incapable of harming its master.

A brutal blow between the shoulder-blades sent him flat on his face to the ground and a powerful voice boomed at him using words that a hitherto never called-upon memory identified as one of the forbidden tongues used by practitioners of the Dark Arts.

"Prostrate yourself before the One who serves the Whisperer!"

Despite the pain Julien's mind was clear as the knowledge buried in his mind organised itself, a knowledge inherited from Yulmir and which now bubbled up, flooding into his mind like a black spring welling up at the bottom of a pond.

This was not the first time that the Emperor had been in this place. In fact he had actually died here twice, a very long time ago, drugged, incapable of coherent thought and his defence reflexes totally blocked. On both occasions they had tried to kill him as slowly and painfully as possible. On other occasions he had come here to destroy infamous councils of evil sorcerers who had made the mistake of allowing their dark cults to become known. However, he had never been faced with two of the entities they sometimes summoned. Dealing with a single Dre Tchenn was a dangerous business for those who summoned it. Having two within the same circle of invocation was absolutely suicidal.

And to go by what had just been said, these weren't just any Dre Tchenns, either! 'The Whisperer in Darkness' was an alternative title for one whose true name could not be uttered. There was a legend current on several worlds, including Earth, concerning a book that spoke of the Whisperer, a book that would drive anyone who read it insane. As for the One who served Him, this surely had to be the entity referred to in some texts as 'The Crawling Chaos'.

If those two were involved there could be no hope of escaping a dreadful end. The only sliver of comfort was the thought that those who had summoned them were sure to share his fate.

***

But the excruciating, unbearable pain he had expected failed to materialise. Although he was still aching from the blow he had been given, several seconds passed in silence and they had still not started to crush his limbs. He couldn't understand it. The part of him that was still a boy was almost pathetically relieved, while the part that had been Yulmir marvelled at it and, paradoxically, worried about it even more than he would have worried about the expected vicious torture to come.

He was dragged to his feet once more. Two acolytes had now joined the celebrant, and these held his arms. They stripped him of his laï and sandals and cut the lace that held Aïn's and Wenn Hyaï's target-klirks around his neck. The also cut the thin belt that held his nagtri, leaving him at last, as somehow seemed right, clad only in the white Marks of the Emperor. The celebrant stood in front of him, towering over him.

"This time you are not going to die, Protector of the Nine Worlds," he said, pronouncing the title with such scorn that Julien felt insulted. "You are going to live, for a very long time – as long as it takes. And the Servant of the Whisperer in Darkness is going to take good care of you."

The demmbal drum started to beat again, very slowly and quietly, and the grating squeaks of the yabbhaï flute, scarcely louder than the cry of a bat, once again offended eardrums. The sorcerer reached out and seized Julien's penis with astonishing gentleness, feeling its weight and handling it slowly, even as his own member, which was slick with the juices that had been dripping from it since the celebration began and which had been rock-hard throughout, twitched in time with the beating of the drum. The sorcerer's calloused fingers, which he had dipped in the aphrodisiac sap of the sandar tree, were warm despite the freezing desert night, and they caressed the boy's body with great expertise. And Julien, despite the fear and loathing which pervaded his spirit and despite the certainty of imminent pain, felt his body respond. He was certain that at any moment the man would seize his testicles in a crushing grip, overwhelming him with pain – and yet he could not stop his penis from stiffening, nor could he prevent the waves of intense sensation from sweeping through him. His mind cried out that he felt no desire, but his body wanted only to surrender to pleasure.

The Palace was in an uproar. They hadn't even managed to capture any of the attackers! Xarax had barely caught sight of them before they disappeared, presumably transported back to their base. Nobody knew what was going on, and they had no idea whether Julien had been captured or if he had managed to jump away to safety. They had no choice but to wait for him to return to them.

Wenn Hyaï, who had been summoned urgently, jumped into the Outside, but he was unable to find any trace of his klirk, the one that Julien always kept around his neck.

Tannder and Dennkar considered themselves responsible for Julien's security, and so for them this situation was like a dreadful case of deja-vu. But this time they didn't think the Dalannis were involved. Even if there was still a group of them hiding out on Nüngen or elsewhere in the R'hinz, it was almost impossible to believe that they had found a means to destroy klirks, even if they had worked out that klirks were anything more than a strange local form of jewellery.

As soon as they heard the news Aldegard and Tahlil decided to summon a council, to which they invited Niil, as well as Subadar, Wenn Hyaï, Tannder and Dennkar. Niil promptly suggested that they should also bring in Ambar and Yülien.

"Look," declared Aldegard, with some annoyance, "I understand that we're going to have to tell them that Julien has disappeared, but I hardly think we need to invite them to the meeting. We've got other things to worry about besides offering consolation to…"

"By your leave, My Lord," cut in Niil, in defiance of all protocol, "but we need them here, because they are the only ones who have been through the same experience."

"I don't remember them being abducted by assassins!" snapped Aldegard.

"No, but the klirk Ambar was wearing at the time disappeared, just like Julien's has this time."

The silence which followed spoke louder than words. Eventually Aldegard recovered enough to say, "I suppose I must admit that you have a point."

"Uncle," said Niil, choosing the term of respect because he was eager to dispel any trace of antagonism, "your duty as Mirror of the Emperor leaves you little time to spot the sort of trivia I can see."

Despite the seriousness of the situation Aldegard managed to laugh. "You're trying to rub the tak up the right way, I see," he commented. "Obviously Lord Tahlil's education is doing you some good. All right, we'll send for our wonder Ningtchik."

***

The debate was quite heated. As soon as they heard what had happened Ambar and Yülien wanted to set out immediately in search of their friend, and if they had decided to defy the authority of a profoundly sceptical Aldegard and the fear of Subadar, who really didn't want the most promising duo he had ever seen to risk their lives in so dangerous an enterprise, nobody would have been able to stop them. Tannder and Dennkar did believe that they were probably the best equipped of anyone to find out what had happened to Julien, but they thought it highly unlikely that the pair would be able to do anything against adversaries who could probably annihilate them without breaking sweat. But Wenn Hyaï, whose affection for his pupils was accompanied by a genuine respect for their abilities, finally talked everyone round by stating that he would accompany them in their search.

They still had to convince Tannder that, although his help would have been extremely valuable, the presence of a non-Guide on the expedition would have made things very difficult. And Tannder was far too honest to raise the objection that Ambar wasn't a Guide either.

Julien was an adolescent who was constantly troubled by the changes his body was going through and so, like the vast majority of people in his situation, he found it impossible to resist the erotic ministrations of the Eng'hornath sorcerer. But deep inside his consciousness Yulmir, Protector of the Nine Worlds, was in a position to understand what was happening, and suddenly Julien knew for sure that if he allowed the sorcerer to achieve his end he would be permanently sullied by it: even if by some impossible miracle he was able to escape death, something within him would always be in thrall to his tormentor, and the act which had the power to bring him close to the only being he had ever loved so strongly would for ever carry echoes of this appalling moment. He would never be able to share the act with Ambar again without thinking of this moment and being repelled by it.

In fact he didn't even need to pause for thought: he knew that at all costs he had to resist giving in to the mounting need and desire which were already close to triggering the first spasm of released pleasure. He also knew what he had to do to defeat it and to regain control over a reaction which he had never really had any control over in the past.

However, knowing what to do didn't make it any easier: a part of him wanted more than anything to give in to the uprising surge. Every nerve, especially those stimulated by the sandar, was screaming out to him that the delightful sensation of release was at hand, and that all he had to do was to surrender to it.

He was only a few heartbeats away from an orgasm that would have been his downfall when he finally regained enough control to shut off the nerve signals, moderate the flow of hormones and put an end to the tyranny of unsought pleasure. Despite the stimulation, his penis went flaccid between the sorcerer's fingers.

The slap to his face was delivered with such ferocity that at first he only felt it as a bump: it took a few seconds for the burning pain to blossom. Tears blurred his vision, but through them he could see the look of insane rage on the man's face, and that told him what he wanted to know, because the rage was an acknowledgement of failure. Julien knew that he would pay for it in due course, but he had at least won the first confrontation.

The second blow would have ruptured his spleen if the sorcerer hadn't remembered at the last moment that the boy was no ordinary victim and that it was essential for the success of the whole enterprise – and, indeed, for his own survival – that he be handed over to the One who would be his keeper in relatively good condition. Nevertheless, the lightning pain that shot through Julien when the blow landed was worse than anything he had experienced previously. His leg buckled under him as he struggled to breathe.

The celebrant shouted something that Julien, lost in a fog of pain, didn't even try to understand. The two acolytes dragged him to a sort of protuberance of the stone table, more or less spherical in shape, and threw him face down onto it, tying him spread-eagled to stone rings that were hewn out of the rock itself. The stone was coated with a thick brownish coat of viscous material which could only be layer on layer of ancient blood. The smell from it was sickening, and Julien vomited up his breakfast.

The pain in his stomach had receded a little and so he was able to think clearly once more, although that wasn't such a good thing because his thoughts were exclusively of the experience to come and they were far too lucid for comfort. The position in which he had been placed made it only too clear what was likely to happen next, before things became even more serious. He was also able to realise that if none of his friends had yet come to rescue him it could only be because Wenn Hyaï's klirk didn't function in this place – and that, of course, meant that nobody was likely to be able to come and save him any time soon.

He had time now for fear to seep fully into him, no longer just the fear that arose from suddenly finding himself in a deadly situation. Now it had become a fear distilled from the certainty that he was going to die alone at the hands of torturers whose only interest was in making him suffer as much as possible. He wouldn't even be able to stop the torture by answering their questions because they weren't going to ask him any. All they wanted to do to him was to hurt him.

He was going to scream, alone, in a world where Ambar wouldn't be able to hear him, and he was going to die without ever seeing Ambar again.

The Voice of the Circle of Eng'Hornath found it immensely difficult to keep his rage reined in, but at the vital moment a flash of lucidity hit him and prevented him from giving the little red-haired shit the retribution his resistance deserved. It was only just in time, too, because he had almost killed him and only pulled the blow a little at the last instant.

He had had him tied to Dr'Haïrr's Belly with the intention of raping him as violently as he could, but again he had to deny himself the pleasure of immediate revenge. Ideally he would have liked to be able to inflict on the little bastard, not pleasure, but a punishment that would rip him up internally. But he knew that if he proceeded it might not prove lethal immediately, but it might still compromise his survival. And although it would be pleasant to witness his victim's slow agony, he simply couldn't afford to jeopardise the entire enterprise for his own momentary enjoyment.

Furthermore, it would be extremely unwise to present The Whisperer with a trophy that might, even if he were to pull out just before the final moment, contain his own semen. He had a very good idea of the sort of use to which a Dre Tchenn could put such a precious fluid.

On the other hand, there was nothing to prevent him from administering a beating, provided that it could be done without inflicting any lasting damage…

***

Julien's parents had had principles, and one of those was that you won't get anything from a child by violence. He had therefore never been slapped or spanked, far less 'given a hiding'. All the same, the terrible burn of the khanil whip across his back came almost as a relief. Even though he could feel something that felt like an acid burning its way through his muscles into his bones, at least it wasn't the abomination of the vicious rape he had been expecting.

Nevertheless, his scream came like music to the sorcerer's ears. The khanil whip was actually a living creature like a cross between an electric eel and a jellyfish, contact with which caused an excruciating burning sensation which instantly paralysed the creature's prey and which efficiently discouraged most would-be predators. The outlawed group of sorcerers had always used it as an instrument of torture.

The art of using the khanil consisted mainly of knowing how to vary the target area and the direction of the strike so as to generate totally unpredictable waves of pain in the victim. But the drawback was that, like any more or less sophisticated instrument, the khanil could act as a barrier between the torturer and his victim, and the sorcerer needed something more to calm his rage: he needed direct contact. Hurting someone was good; feeling that you were hurting someone was better still. He wanted to lay his hands on the flesh, to feel the sinews stretch and break, to see at close range the sweat of anguish seeping from the skin and running over it. His desire to put his hands on that pale body to knead, twist and break it was like a sudden hunger, even more commanding than sex.

He threw the khanil back into its tank and then brought his hand down on Julien's buttock and squeezed, digging his thick, claw-like nails into the white skin while the screeching of the flute got louder, sounding like the legs of some huge spider crawling over obsidian, and the arrhythmic beat of the drum became even more insane.

He felt the muscles contract under his hand as the boy, who had been silent for a moment, gave a rattling exhalation and then, as he twisted more savagely, making blood well up under his claws, uttered a mixture of a howl and a sob of despair so perfect that the sorcerer ejaculated, his whole body tensed up, his head thrown back and his erect member spitting out long ropes of thick semen that steamed in the frigid air of the early dawn.

Although he was personally responsible for Ambar's and Yülien's training on every aspect of the Art of the Guides, Wenn Hyaï had not yet broached the tricky subject of navigating outside the universe itself. Instead he had preferred to concentrate on getting them working together in harmony and on making sure the most vital safety reflexes were properly engrained. He had hoped to be able to wait for Yülien to reach maturity before launching into the sort of exploration which was likely to become highly dangerous once the inevitable hormonal imbalances of puberty struck.

Sadly, the present emergency made that impossible. Furthermore, somehow they had to include Xarax in their mission, because Xarax simply wasn't able to listen to any argument which suggested that he should remain behind when his master was in danger.

Obviously they had no time to make a detailed search of the entire universe, and so they had decided to resort to asking for help from the 'non-dual auto-conscious being', as he had styled himself. They thought it improbable that Julien had jumped there, but they hoped that their recent acquaintance might have some information for them – or even some assistance…

***

As he had already told them, the 'non-dual auto-conscious being' was not a god and he wasn't all-powerful. He wasn't even omniscient. Nor did he have any suggestion to offer concerning Julien's possible whereabouts, and in fact he wasn't at all interested in getting involved in their search. However, he was prepared to allow his 'spatial continuum' to be explored by 'entities recognised as non-hostile'. This opened a literal world of possibilities, but it was of no help whatever at the present time.

They would have to find something else.

***

Subadar had expected them to fail, even though he had fervently hoped they would not. And he was fairly sure that, despite their devotion to him, Julien's other friends would be unable to find him either. By now he was starting to get an idea of the greater picture, and he had reached a conclusion which, while not offering any great hope, still might turn out to be close to reality.

If he was right in his conjectures he was certainly likely to be the only one who had any chance of helping the boy he had come to love far more than was reasonable. He would almost certainly lose what was left of his life and perhaps, if death was not the nothingness he hoped for, he would have to face unforeseen and unpleasant consequences. But he couldn't simply stand by and surrender Julien to a terrible fate.

He was far too honest with himself to pretend that he was about to undertake such a dangerous quest in order to preserve the Nine Worlds. If he succeeded, the survival of the Empire would be no more an a fringe benefit.

"I know what you're thinking, Subadar," said Ugo, pulling him from the tension his thoughts were causing him.

"Do you?"

"It's not hard to guess."

"So what about it?"

"Just that if you decide to do what I think you're thinking about you're going to need me with you as well as a fully operational Guide. It's too bad I can't do that for you as well."

"So where do you think I'm intending to go?"

"To Tandil, obviously. And you're right: if there is still a chance to find him at all it'll be in a place like the one you're thinking about."

"Yol, you don't need to come."

"Don't try telling me lies. You know I'm the only one who could prevent you from destroying yourself. And…"

"All right, don't say any more. I'll take you with me."

That moron Ahrr'demmghath was going to die, and he richly deserved it. How could he lose control like that in front of TWO of the Old Gods? He might just as well have drunk a glass of amthag – it was just as certain a way to die, and a great deal less unpleasant. The cretin had spent a cycle and a half intriguing his way into the post of Voice of the Circle and now he had thrown it all away by giving in to rage in the middle of the Rite.

Dem'ghahirr prepared to step into the Circle of Invocation. He knew he would have to take over the role of Celebrant shortly.

Indeed, the Voice of the Circle, his body still as taut as a bow, had stopped spurting out his seed: instead dark blood was now spurting from his erection and his eyes no longer saw the paling sky of early dawn. He crumpled to the ground, and as his head hit the stone it made a dull sound which nonetheless seemed to echo in the sudden silence.

"I am the Voice of the Circle of Eng'Hornath!" cried Dem'ghahirr, stepping forward to take his place next to where Julien lay bound across Dr'Haïrr's Belly and gesturing to the acolytes, who carried away his predecessor's lifeless body. The flute and drum resumed their demented dialogue.

The sixteen remaining members of the Circle, deep in their trance, murmured their acceptance of the change of Voice, and the new celebrant began the Enn'hghoto Dance, a complex sequence of physical and mental postures which, in conjunction with the drugs he had been absorbing for several weeks, would enable him to establish a communication link with the Dre tchenns.

Pallid Orb
non-light, achromatous colour
and you, Shadow,
crawling on the threshold of words

Let him be yours
for his torment
as long as the abhorred order of the R'hinz exists.

Let him be yours
the powerless Protector of Nine Worlds

Let him be guarded by You,
crawling Chaos,
in obedience to your Master Who whispers terror

Let him be guarded so none can find him

Let him despair and die not

I am the Voice of the Circle of Eng'Hornath
and through You I have power over him that today I give you
so he may be guarded and die not

Let him be guarded until the end of the abhorred order of the R'hinz
and let the time of Ahrr'krazmelekh come at last

I have the power and I seal the covenant
with a drop of my blood for an instant of your eternity

The horizon continued to grow lighter in the east, but it seemed as though the light of dawn could not penetrate the area around the sacrificial circle, which retained the darkness of a sealed vault, illuminated only by the smoking flames of the braziers. And at the core of that strange twilight a palpitating darkness swelled slowly in a way that was only perceptible to the heightened senses of the sorcerers. For although the Dre tchenn was present, he wasn't really 'there'. And soon the same would apply to the Emperor.

For that was the brilliant beauty of the scheme: the Emperor would remain a prisoner outside of the world while still within it, utterly submitted to the control of a major Dre tchenn. He would be absent but undead and so unable to migrate to a substitute body. He would also be unable to fulfil his role in the R'hinz. Caught like an insect in amber, in a stasis in which his body would never change. But his mind… Ahhh! His mind would remain awake and would sink – more slowly than the growth of those forever unseen huge crystals in the blind entrails of the rocks – into a dementia from which there was no return, where nothing would exist except for the unique, unbearable, unutterable, self-inflicted torment.

The One who crawls at the threshold of worlds would feed on that torment as a delicious nectar, and the sorcerers of Eng'hornath would gloat and contemplate the gradual disintegration of the thousand year institutions of the Empire as it finally collapsed into a fecund chaos, at last spinning once more the wheel of change which had been motionless for so long.

When it came to choosing a Guide to go with him Subadar didn't have many options. In fact he didn't really have any choice at all: it would have to be Wenn Hyaï, because he was the only one with a detailed knowledge of recent events. And, of course, because it would not be possible to persuade him to stay safely at home. Subadar was well aware that if things went seriously wrong, taking Wenn Hyaï with him would mean depriving the most promising Nyingtchik for many years of their instructor.

Of course, he also knew that if things went seriously wrong there were more important issues to worry about than depriving Ambar and Yülien of their teacher. Come to that, it wouldn't be easy to stop those two from sticking their heads into the hornets' nest either, because they had an annoying tendency to ignore the fact that they were both just kids.

Xarax would have to come, of course. As soon as he found out what was going on no power in the universe could hold the haptir back. However, Xarax would clearly be an asset; his ability to deal with the unexpected had already been demonstrated more than once.

On the other hand, Aldegard and Tahlil would be of no help to them, and nor would Niil, who would have to be persuaded, forcibly if necessary, to stay out of it. As for Tannder and Dennkar, they at least were wise enough to know without needing to be told that their presence would only make the Guide's job more complicated.

So now it was time to tell everyone what was going to happen…

***

"Are you out of your mind, Subadar?!"

Lord Aldegard had jumped to his feet and was now pacing about the Council Chamber.

"Did I hear you correctly?" he went on, not even trying to hide his anger. "You're intending to practise the Dark Arts?! You, Grand Master of the Upper Circle of Major Arts?! And, not content with that, you want to go to Tandil to do it??!"

"Please, My Lord, get a grip on yourself."

"I'll get a grip on myself when you start talking sense again and remember your commitments!"

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing very sensible about this situation, and as for my commitments, I certainly haven't forgotten them, and nor do I think that what I'm proposing is in any way a contradiction of them."

"You swore that you would never have anything to do with the Dark Arts!"

"I'm perfectly well aware of that. If you remember, I also swore to dedicate myself to the defence of the R'hinz and, like you, to defend the Emperor with my own life if necessary. Now I have to stand by that oath. If you don't like the methods I intend using to do that, by all means leave now before I say anything more."

Almost a minute of heavy silence passed before Lord Aldegard, Mirror of the Emperor, was able to regain his composure and return to his seat.

"Forgive me, Subadar," he said. "I should not have doubted your loyalty to the oath you swore."

"Don't worry, My Lord: we're all a bit shaken up by this, and we don't always take the time to express ourselves as carefully as we would normally. Anyway, as I was saying, it's more than likely that Wenn Hyaï's klirk has vanished, not because it's been destroyed, which would be extremely hard to achieve in the short time between the attack and Wenn Hyaï's first attempt to locate it, but because it is being hidden by an entity like a Neh-kyong or, more probably, a Dre tchenn. The secret history of the R'hinz tells us that on several occasions the Emperor had to confront groups of outcasts who were dedicated to the worship of the so-called Old Gods. And Tandil is the only place in the Nine Worlds where such communities still pop up from time to time. Of course I could be wrong, in which case it will be up to you to pursue the search in other directions, but right now I have no idea what other direction there could be."

Ambar hesitantly raised his hand.

"Please may I ask something, Master Subadar?" he said.

"This is a council meeting, and you've been invited to it. Therefore you can certainly speak."

"Well… I know that you don't want us to come with you. But I reckon me and Yülien could be pretty useful to you."

"Look, I'm sure that offer comes straight from the heart, but…"

"No! Please listen: I know we're not much, us two. We're not Grand Masters. We're not even Master Guides. But we can still do stuff that nobody else can. Ask Master Wenn Hyaï if you don't believe me. We can go where nobody else has ever gone. All right, I know that won't necessarily solve anything, but it could be useful, don't you think? And…"

"Yes?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious that what you're going to do is really dangerous, and if anything happened to you and Master Wenn Hyaï, we could act like a sort of back-up Guide – couldn't we?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so. But…"

"Please! I swear we won't be a nuisance – we'll just be there in case you need us!"

Suddenly Xarax, who was following the discussion in his usual unobtrusive way, jumped onto Ambar's shoulder. By this stage Ambar had started to sound a bit like a whining child trying to wheedle a favour from a parent, but once Xarax arrived his tone changed.

"Xarax says," he said in a much more confident voice, "that he will take full responsibility for our safety and that he will stay with us. He also says that he will be the one to decide if we need to do anything, and that he'll tell us what to do if that happens."

"Who am I to contradict Master Xarax?" said Subadar. "Very well, you have my permission. But I have to warn you and your chenn-da that you're putting your lives on the line if you come with us, and in fact it might be even more than just your lives you're risking. So think about it carefully: you have half a tchouksö to decide if you still want to come. After that I'm leaving."

Time no longer made any sense – literally: time flew in every direction. It was infinitely worse than being in the Outside. In the Outside, the duration of time played tricks on you, but eventually you got used to it. But here, something had been perverted in the nature of time itself: you couldn't tell if you were before or after, and now simply looked unreal.

Julien was in pain, and he was cold. He was sure the man had ripped his buttock open. He couldn't see very well, either, although he had briefly had the impression that day was dawning. But when would it finally happen?

He'd expected to be raped. The hatred of the man had been almost tangible, and he'd never met anything like it before.

He couldn't hear the drum any longer.

God, he was freezing!

And he could smell the sea – well, not so much the sea as the stagnant water you find on mud flats, where abandoned boats slowly rot away. The mud flats that are home to blind, pallid worms, bloated things with star-shaped mouths full of tiny sharp gnawing teeth…

There were people somewhere close by. When? People who stank of fish and who ate things. Lots of things. Lots of people, eating revolting things that they tore open with their claws. Revolting things that they tore from wailing, feeble creatures that looked like tiny babies. Puppets of bluish flesh. Without eyes. And with, instead of a nose, two open holes above a gaping, toothless mouth.

Puppets which, like a violin's top string tightened too far so that it breaks, uttered a sort of squeal and then died. Probably.

And the waters of the marsh lapped at the shore, water thick as pus, steaming gently in the cold air, generating a mist in which were hiding…

Light was dead for ever. Only twilight persisted.

There was a darkness somewhere which swelled.

Something was touching him.

TOUCHING him!!!

He was/would not be tied to the stinking rock any longer. He had been/would be/still was? standing on the half-rotted boards of a stranded barge.

And the surf, far, far away, invisible beyond the slowly drifting mist, whispered. It whispered, so quietly that you had to strain your ears to hear it, the blasphemous secrets which a necromancer had one day betrayed and confided to the pages of a book that nobody could read and remain sane.

SOMETHING was touching him.

TOUCHING him!!!

Touched his ankle. But there was nothing. Nothing but mist rising from mud. Touched him. But that contact was nothing like the revolting manipulations of a perverted sorcerer.

More than just his body, something touched HIM.

He felt something look inside him with contempt, stirring his memories and distorting them into hideous caricatures. His mother, naked, accidentally surprised as she stepped from the shower and covering herself with a little cry, suddenly changed into a ghoul, terrifying and lecherous, burning with a black desire for her child. Ugo the dog welcoming his father home and then suddenly panting and drooling, obscenely burying himself inside his master in a copulation from the depths of hell.

Something was touching him, forcing his penis to react to these nightmare visions, and to others…

Gallier – quiet, shy, gentle Gallier who sat next to him during French lessons, now bent over the master's desk, naked, abandoning all reserve as he spread his buttocks with his hands, offering his blinking Cyclops eye to anyone who wanted to take it.

Ambar, plastered with make-up like a cheap rent boy, slowly swallowing a huge penis that belonged to no-one other than Jacques Berthier, his friend's father.

Something was worming its way deep inside him, making him discover desires and tastes that were completely unknown to him, terrible and fascinating at the same time. To sink his hands into viscera and gloat over the despair of a victim far too young to understand which appetite it fed. Evil did not exist, and neither did good. Only need – a fierce, driven necessity to be. Pain was itself a pleasure.

Something was crawling along his leg. A centipede, at least thirty centimetres long, of a mottled reddish colour, sporting a cluster of vaguely luminous and obviously venomous appendages at each end. Paralysed with disgust he could only watch its progress, its hooked legs – far too many of them – lifting one after the other in nauseating undulations. He knew that if he made the least move to dislodge it the monstrosity would release its venom.

And, far away, the surf still whispered.

A drop of thy blood for an instant of my eternity?

NO!!!

If there was one thing he rejected above all others, it was sharing anything with That One, the One Who whispered in the mist.

The PAIN!

From his anus to the top of his skull he felt an icy iron rod, sharp as a needle.

And the FIRE. The fire of the stake feeding on the sulphur-soaked garment and gnawing at the blistering flesh…

And the peace, instantly, the sweet darkness. The wonderful absence of any pain.

"Julien."

His own voice, in his head, but with an accent he did not recognise.

"Julien, I am Yulmir."

I'm absolutely sure it was somewhere around here.

I don't doubt your memory for a moment, Subadar, said Wenn Hyaï, but it looks as if your infamous sacrificial altar isn't here any more.

That's all the more reason to find it. Places like that don't just disappear for no reason at all. These altars have to be set up in certain specific places, places that are stable geologically and… well, stable in other ways too.

"Master Subadar," said Ambar, "Xarax says he's going have a look around and try to pick something up."

The haptir rose into the air and started riding the thermals which were starting to form above the rocks of the desert. He scanned the ground carefully but remained vigilant to his surroundings at the same time: Tandil was unforgiving to those who underestimated its dangers. He wasn't worried about his companions, though: Subadar, Ugo and Wenn Hyaï weren't the type to let themselves be taken unawares and could be relied upon to keep a careful eye on the Nyingtchik, who certainly wouldn't last long if left to their own devices. Ambar and Yülien were undoubtedly brave beyond their years, but they didn't have any experience of an environment as hostile as this one. They could be stung to death by a mere nayak before they were able to step out of its way.

He flew in great circles above their point of arrival, each wider than the last, staying about three hundred metres above the ground. This enabled him to look out for any hostile predators while at the same time searching for any trace of their own prey. He didn't forget to keep an eye on the sky, either: he had no wish to become an incubator for the young of the rakhan or other creatures of that kind.

He modified his corneal filters, allowing him to explore the whole range accessible to his vision, which covered everything from medium ultraviolet to near infra-red. And it was in that part of the spectrum that he found an anomaly: everywhere the desert air, warmed to a greater or lesser extent by the rocks below, swirled upwards above the rocks, except in one place. One small area looked curiously inert, as if the rays of the now scorching sun had no power to heat the desert. It didn't take a genius to work out that something was hiding there, something which broadcast its presence, paradoxically, by the absence of activity in the air above it.

It took them less than ten minutes' of stealthy approach, all senses on high alert, to reach the place.

"If the altar is actually there, and I'm pretty sure it is," said Subadar, "it's in use and someone is hiding it. And I'm very much afraid that that someone is a Dre tchenn. I'd suggest that the rest of you withdraw and let Yol and me do what we need to."

Guided by Xarax, Ambar, Yülien and Wenn Hyaï moved away to take up a position on a large flat rock which not only had the advantage of a clear view over the surrounding countryside, but which was also free from the sort of crack in its surface that might harbour unpleasant specimens of the local wildlife.

While Xarax was constantly moving around so as to keep an effective watch, Wenn Hyaï stayed with the Nyingtchik, which allowed him to communicate with them while continuing to observe the two figures who were busy close to the supposed position of the altar. Yülien was the more restless of his two protégés and it wasn't long before he started asking questions.

Master Wenn Hyaï, what exactly is Master Subadar trying to do? he asked.

I think he's going to try to reveal the place where Julien is being held prisoner.

Yes, I know. But how is he going to do that?

I don't know.

He said something about a rite from the Dark Arts. Is that what he's going to do?

Perhaps.

Wenn Hyaï was extremely uneasy.

So why does he need Akou Ugo with him?

I don't know. This isn't exactly my area of expertise.

Actually the old Master Guide had a pretty shrewd idea of what was going on, but he had no wish to share his thoughts with his two disciples. He didn't even want to think about it himself. But Yülien was as stubborn as he was gifted and he rarely let a question go before he had received a satisfactory answer to it. And of course his constant connection to his chenn-da Ambar had greatly enhanced his ability to use logic.

It can't be because he might need to jump, because Akou Ugo can't do that any more.

Yülien!

What? I'm not making fun of him for it – he's the greatest Guide of all time… well, him and Akou Aïn. And the only reason he can't jump now is because he saved Yulmir. Akou Julien told me about it. And Akou Julien is Yulmir. And I love Akou Ugo as much as I love Akou Julien, and I'd never let anyone make fun of him!

I'm sure you wouldn't. And you're right, of course.

So why is he there, if it's not to do with jumping? He isn't a Master of the Major Arts like Master Subadar. I don't think he can know anything about the rites and stuff like that… maybe he's there because he's Master Subadar's chenn-da? Perhaps he doesn't want to leave him to fight… whatever it is they think is there on his own. Is that it, do you think?

Wenn Hyaï thought it was something quite different, and he was getting more and more sure every minute, but he had no intention of sharing his thoughts with an over-precocious young Guide. Nor did he want to tell the young human genius about it, either. But Ambar didn't need to have things spelled out: his logical mind was fully capable of processing the most disparate pieces of information, putting them together and reaching a solid conclusion.

The Key! he exclaimed mentally. Ugo is going to be the key – I'm almost sure!

Wenn Hyaï didn't even attempt to deny it, because this was the same unpleasant conclusion he had reached himself. Every Dark rite entailed the sacrifice of a victim, and the more powerful the entity involved, the more precious the victim had to be. But the vital thing about the whole business was that it always involved the sacrifice, precious or otherwise, being put to death, and that ought to have been absolutely anathema to everything Subadar believed in. It was one thing to kill someone in a fight; it was something else entirely to offer a sentient being as a sacrifice to some abomination or other.

It wasn't simply forbidden, but it ought to have been impossible, too. Even if he wanted to do it Subadar should not have been able to develop the state of mind which made such a thing capable of producing the correct result. It would be easier for him to breathe under water. The only way it could work would be if the sacrifice was a willing volunteer, someone who would not only welcome death, but the unspeakable pain that would inevitably precede it. Subadar would no more suggest such a thing than he would sacrifice an unwilling victim. And Ugo must have known that, which is why he had volunteered to be the sacrifice.

What do you mean? asked Yülien.

Ambar immediately regretted speaking without stopping to think first. Sadly impeccable logic is no guarantee against blunders.

***

Sabadar looked at the big black dog, its shaggy head making it look like just another animal, though he knew that behind the large brown eyes his chenn-da, his other self, was hiding.

"Yol, my friend – are you sure?"

"Yes. Anyway, a dog doesn't live very long, so I'm only giving up a few years at most. And you know as well as I do that this is the best thing I can do."

"Sometimes the moral compass of you Guides makes me mad!"

"That's not true at all – in my place you would do exactly the same thing. This offers me a unique opportunity to make amends for everything I did wrong. Surely you wouldn't want to stop me from doing that?"

"'Everything you did wrong'?! You sacrificed yourself for your Emperor! Technically you died for him!"

"That's the point – I didn't. I chose not to die. Another died in my place."

"He hadn't even been born and had no consciousness."

"We've already discussed this. Because I took his place that puppy was never born. And it's also my fault that Julien is where he is now."

"You can't take responsibility for that!"

"The boy never asked to be sent back to the R'hinz. He was happy where he was."

"But…"

"The worst thing is that he doesn't even bear me a grudge because of it."

"But… it's Yulmir!"

"Yes… well, sort of. In any case he's doing his best not to disappoint everyone."

"But I…"

"You love him. I know you do – almost as much as I do. And that's why we're here – to save him from a fate literally worse than death. So let's stop dithering and get on with it."

"I'm going to have to hurt you, you know."

"Obviously."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Subadar, please. Let's just say goodbye now. Then you can do what you have to knowing that I'll welcome any pain that will allow you to reach Julien. And…"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell him… well… just tell him that I died fighting. And tell him I died happy. Because that will be the truth."

***

Ambar, talk to me – how can he be a key?

I don't know.

Don't lie! Answer me – please?

I'm not lying. I really don't know. I'm guessing, that's all.

Well, what are you guessing, then?

Promise you'll stay calm if I tell you.

It's dangerous, isn't it?

Yes, I think so.

Master Wenn Hyaï, tell me – what's going on?

Calm down, Yülien. We might need you, and you'll be no use to anyone in that state.

Yülien took a dozen steady breaths as he tried to follow the calming exercises he had been taught.

I still want to know what's going on, he said.

There was no point in hoping he'd just give up: they knew he'd just keep pressing until he got an answer. Ambar took a deep breath.

All right, he said. I think Master Subadar will have to… I mean… I think he's going to kill him.

What?!!

I think that's precisely why Ugo came with us.

But we can't let them do that!

Can you think of a way to stop them?

Well, we can go down there now and…

Look, if you're sure that's what you want to do I'll come with you, obviously. But it won't do any good – we'll just get in the way and then they'll send us back to Nüngen before they try again. All we'd do would be to delay rescuing Julien.

But… it's wrong! It's not fair!

If Ugo thinks it's the right thing to do, do you reckon you can persuade him that you know more than he does and that he should change his mind?

But I don't want him to die!

Nobody does, and especially not Subadar. Ugo's his chenn-da, remember.

But I could never kill you – not even if you asked me to!

Nor could I. But we're not Grand Masters, are we?

If that's what being a Grand Master means, I never want to be one!

"I knew I wasn't Yulmir, but nobody would believe me!"

The cessation of pain came as a tremendous relief to him, and with it came the perception that there was someone with him – within him. It was a presence he had never felt before, but now he was aware that there was someone who existed in and alongside him, someone as real as he was real himself. Someone who, he realised, had access to his complete being – every memory, sensation, emotion, yearning, everything that made him the person he was. And yet, someone who had remained completely inaccessible.

"That's not surprising. To everyone who had any knowledge of the situation there was no alternative: you could only be Yulmir. We were so closely entwined that it was impossible for anyone to tell us apart, any more that they could tell which was wine and which was water once one has been poured into the other."

"But that's not the case any longer?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Pain. Psychological strain. Loathing. You're the one who separated us, and you did it without having any idea what you were doing."

"And now you've fixed it so that I can't feel anything?"

"Yes. I've put us into deep stasis. But we can't stay like this indefinitely."

"So how long can we stay like it?"

"Your question is meaningless. We will emerge from the stasis at exactly the moment we entered it."

"Why didn't you speak to me before?"

"I couldn't. And to answer the question you're not asking, if I didn't allow you access to my mind it was to protect you. I have lived for thousands of years. I have managed to get rid of a lot of my memories, but what remains would be quite sufficient to make you age abominably in an instant. I've already done you far too much harm as it is."

"Well, now that you're here… I mean, I suppose you've always been here, but… anyway, can we jump out of here?"

"I don't think so. I'll try once we come out of the stasis, but I'm virtually certain it will be impossible. We're stuck in a bar-do, a hiatus, and I think I know the Dre tchenn who has set it up. Bar-dos don't belong in our universe. We're both present and absent. It's actually a remarkable trap."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Well, if it was just me I think I would get an opportunity to solve a problem which has been troubling me for a very long time."

"You mean that you could finally manage to die permanently, I suppose."

"Yes, in a way."

"And am I stopping you from doing that?"

"No, what's stopping me is the little that remains of my sense of morality. I don't want to take you into annihilation with me, and nor to I want to leave you here in the clutches of a Dre tchenn."

"Thank you for that. So does that mean that you're going to try to get both of us out of here?"

"Yes."

"How are you going to do that?"

"The Dre tchenn thinks he only has one victim, and he thinks he has him totally under his control. We're not going to do anything to make him aware of his mistake because if he knew there were two of us we'd have no chance: he'd simply become two as well. To all intents and purposes he is innumerable. There's only one of his avatars out there because he thinks that's all that is necessary."

"Won't he realise something is wrong when we come out of the stasis?"

"That's when things are going to get complicated. I'll have to hide or, rather, to disappear. I'll have to leave you on your own. And that's not the worst of it, either. In theory I could help you to dampen down your sensations and so make you suffer less. But if I do that the Dre tchenn will know it straight away. It's your pain that he's after."

A long time seemed to pass while Julien tried to control the terror which seized him at the thought of returning to that inferno of agony. Finally he asked:

"How long will it last?"

"If you prefer I can kill you painlessly. The Dre tchenn can stop you killing yourself, but he can't stop me killing you while we're in stasis."

"Will that set you free as well?"

"That's not really the issue."

"You can't lie to me, can you?"

"No. You'd feel it immediately."

"Can't we just wait here? I'm sure I've got people looking for me."

"I'm sure you're right. If I know anything about Subadar, he's on his way here now. He came here once before, a long time ago, and he must realise by now that dark sorcerers are involved in what has happened to you. Unfortunately I have to remind you that no time is passing out there. We could stay her for an eternity, and yet when we emerge from the stasis not a single atom will have moved. If you're going to be rescued, time has to start moving again."

"All right. So how long?"

"I don't know."

"What will happen if you… if I ask you to make me die?"

"I can put out your… what makes you you, your awareness that you exist… I can put that out like a flame on a candle. You will feel nothing. You will just cease to be. From your point of view it will just be like a sleep without dreams."

"I'll just never wake up, you mean?"

"'Never' is a very big word but, basically, that's right."

"What about you? What will happen to you?"

"You don't have to worry about that. It's not your problem."

"I think I have a right to know, though."

"I suppose you do. Well, if you're not there I'll inherit a body in perfect condition – yours – and come out of stasis. When the Dre tchenn realises what has happened he's likely to be furious, but sooner or later Subadar will turn up. Then I'll do what I have to, and either I'll free myself or I'll die. If I die the story starts up all over again…"

"But you'll have an opportunity to free yourself. Does that mean you'll be able to do what you want – that you could stop being reborn as the Emperor?"

"Yes, but I'd have a far better chance of success if you were with me."

"How come?"

"Probably you don't realise this, but you've achieved some astonishing results, things I could never achieve myself."

"I doubt that very much."

"Well, for a start you succeeded in winning over Xarax. I was never able to do that. For your sake he has been able to resist his conditioning. If I'd been able to do that this would all have been over long ago. And then you've united a unique Nyingtchik."

"They're both geniuses. I had nothing to do with it."

"Without you Ambar would still be running about on the quays in Aleth and Yülien would be no more than a promising Guide still on his way to maturity. Don't underestimate the influence you have, or your value."

"What value?"

"Why do you think people love you? It's not just because you're nice to look at, or because you're the Emperor, I assure you. It's because they can see in you what you don't seem able to see yourself. It would be a terrible pity to lose that. But it has to be your decision."

"I'm scared. It was terrible. I couldn't take that again. I'd sooner die right now."

"I understand."

"If you… if you do manage to get away, try to explain things to Ambar. At least he'll still have Yülien, so maybe it'll be less of a… And my parents. I don't want them to know how… And… all right, look, let's give it a try."

"If you're sure?"

"You pull us out of stasis, just for a few seconds, and then take us back. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

"Maybe if we do it like that, a bit at a time, with breaks between, I can manage. Don't you think so?"

Yulmir hesitated for a moment.

"No," he said. "I don't think so. And I don't want…"

"But…"

"I don't want anyone suffering in my place any longer. Nor do I want other people to suffer the consequences of my bad decisions. And I want you to have a chance to live your own life. We're going to fight. Together. Are you with me?"

Despite the desperate situation Julien couldn't help making a feeble joke.

"Frankly," he said, "I'd sooner spend a day at the dentist's. But I suppose there isn't much of a choice…"

…And the FIRE. The fire of the stake feeding on the sulphur-soaked garment and gnawing at the blistering flesh…

The pain was there, but far away, as if detached from him. It was more of a memory, as of pain that has now stopped. Instead the calm, reassuring presence of Yulmir filled him completely.

Then, suddenly, the universe seemed to go insane. There are sights that no human mind should ever contemplate, perversions for which no language has a name and depths of iniquity that are completely unfathomable. The Dre tchenn wallowed in them, and although he couldn't kill the one who had been entrusted to him, there was nothing to stop him from destroying his sanity by sharing his poisonous knowledge with him. It didn't matter that the prisoner had already undergone a sudden change because of what had happened to him. The only thing that mattered was preserving his body and keeping it in place on the round stone, and ensuring that a spark of consciousness remained in him, since that would keep him bound to the stone for as long as the planet maintained its course, cycle after cycle, around its sun.

Rumour says that there exists a book, the reading of which was sufficient to drive the few reckless men who tried to interpret some of its verses completely insane. What the Dre tchenn showed Yulmir was the tangible reality of what that book imperfectly attempts to describe in its long-dead language.

It was not possible to seal the mind against that flood of horrors. But Yulmir and Julien were able, somehow, to withdraw into each other, like twins in the womb, and to try to share everything they had that was noblest and most completely opposed to the ever-present and corrupting pestilence that assailed them. A tiny flicker of light in a maelstrom of dark insanity, the too-ancient Emperor regaining something of the innocence he had thought forever lost, and the terrified child snuggling under the aegis of the Protector of All. They could only wait and hope that madness would not destroy them.

***

Subadar lifted the heavy stone with both hands, his eyes blurred with tears, and hesitated, unwilling to bring it down upon the loins of his chenn-da. Despite his desire to hurry to rescue Julien, and despite Yol's unshakable determination, he could not bring himself to begin the slow massacre of his lifelong friend, inflicting upon him not only an undeserved death but also the unspeakable pain which was the price that had to be paid if he was to enter the cursed circle.

"Master Subadar!"

Two metres away stood the nyingtchik, the boy and the young Guide. In spite of this clear disobedience of his orders Subadar felt a moment of admiration: for such a young Guide to achieve such a precise jump was a noteworthy achievement. Nor could he deny that he felt a kind of cowardly relief at being prevented from carrying out his intentions, even if the delay was likely to be brief.

"Master Subadar," said Ambar, "please listen! I know what you're going to do, but there is another way! Please, I beg you – listen to us!"

Subadar slowly lowered the stone to the ground.

"Very well," he said, "I'm listening."

For a moment the boy stood speechless, because he had expected Subadar to have pushed him away angrily. The calmness in the man's voice left him wrong-footed. But he quickly recovered.

"I'm sure we can take you where you want to go," he said.

"No Guide can do that… all right, explain, but be quick: every kechik counts."

"Then let us take you to the Outside, because time doesn't exist there."

***

The sorcerers of the Circle of Eng'Hornath had literally no time to realise what was hitting them. Practically all of them died in the same instant, hit by the completely illegal but extremely efficient projectiles from the hand weapons whose use was strictly forbidden in the Nine Worlds.

It only took five seconds to cut the bonds which tied an apparently unconscious Julien to a bloody stone, and a barely measurable moment later the whole operation ended with a superbly-executed jump back to Nüngen.

The backlash of the aborted invocation caused a crater to form in the desert large enough to have been made by a decent-sized meteorite, destroying in the process a few particularly venomous specimens of the local population of myriapoda.

Xarax! I'm happy to see you again. I hope you're not planning to kill me?

Yulmir! It's you at last! What have you done with Julien?

Don't worry, I didn't eat him. He's still here, though right now he's hiding. I see we're in the Palace, and I think this must be Ambar lying here beside me. It's a very long time indeed since I last shared a bed with a boy of that age! I think we should probably let him go on sleeping. How long have I been here?

About two days.

Then I must have sent us deeper than I thought. How did you rescue us?

You'll have to ask Ambar. He was the one who got you out. Subadar says that without his help there would have been no chance of reaching you.

"Julien! You are awake!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Ambar, but you're talking to Yulmir."

Ambar, who had already sat up with the obvious intention of hugging his friend and probably sharing a long reunion kiss, froze with an expression bordering on horror.

"Yul… Yulmir? The Emperor? Julien, it's you – you are Yulmir!"

"You're right, my boy. Until now, Julien was me. But not any longer."

"So… where is Julien, then?"

"He's in here somewhere, but he's not ready to come out yet. Now, I think I've spent long enough in bed, so I'm going to get up and, if you don't mind, I'm going to ask Subadar to come and share breakfast with us. Do you know what time it is?"

"It must be around the end of the morning, but…"

"I know. You've got a lot of questions and a lot to tell me, too, but I'm very hungry. And I could do with a good bath, so everything else will have to wait. Would you like to come and share the bath with me?"

"Er… well, yes, of course."

"While we're doing that Xarax can go and make sure everyone knows I'm awake, and he can get us a meal served here. Ah, here comes… it must be Yülien, your chenn-da?"

He turned to face the Guide and uttered a series of discordant yelps. Ambar, looking amazed, exclaimed, "You can speak Guide?"

"I'm no good at it, I know, but after a few thousand years I managed to pick it up a bit. Still, we'd better stick to Tünnkeh since you're here. I just asked if he would like a bath too. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh! No, not at all… Your Lordship."

"Don't bother with all that. I hereby decree that you are excused from following protocol. After all, Xarax says that it was you and this young Guide that rescued me from hell."

"It wasn't just us. There were…"

"Later. You can give me the details later on."

Only when they were soaking in the perfumed water of the pool did Ambar ask the question which chiefly worried him.

"Julien," he asked. "What's happened to him?"

Yulmir looked him for some moments. He could see the anguish on the boy's face, as well as a growing fear that perhaps Yulmir was trying to hide an unpleasant truth from him.

"Look," he said, "I'm not going to treat you like a little kid and lie to you. Julien suffered terribly. I protected him as much as I could but in the end the only thing I could do was to more or less completely suppress his consciousness. He's still there, deep inside me, but I haven't yet found a way to bring him back. I can only assure you that he is in no pain – he's simply unconscious, the way he would be if he was in a deep sleep. We just have to wait for him to wake up."

"But… I mean, he will wake up – won't he?"

"I honestly hope so as much as you do, and I'll do everything I can to help him. I'm hoping that Subadar and his colleagues will be able to suggest a few things we could do to speed the process. Don't cry – Julien isn't dead, I swear."

***

It had been hard to keep everyone who had played a part in the rescue of the Emperor away, but in the end the breakfast was a strictly private one, with only Subadar and Ugo invited to share it with Yulmir, Ambar and Yülien.

"Xarax tells me, My Lord," said Subadar, "that you're truly back with us. I'm glad to hear that. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Subadar. But it does give us a problem – several problems, in fact, quite apart from the distress felt by Ambar and Yülien who, if I understand it correctly, were the main reason I was rescued."

"That's true, My Lord. If they hadn't been there the whole operation would have ended in disaster."

"Perhaps you could give me the details?"

"Maybe Ambar could tell you how it happened from his point of view. After all, he was the one who stopped me committing…"

"No," interrupted Ambar. "You were going to do what you and your chenn-da thought was the best way to break into the sorcerers' circle…"

He turned to Yulmir. "You see, Ugo, who is actually Yol, the Saviour of the Emperor, had asked Master Subadar to sacrifice him in order to pay his way into the circle. And Master Subadar had agreed because… Well, because he too was going to do something… something that went beyond just brave: he was going to perform a rite of the Dark Arts, because he was sure it was the only way to rescue you. I've thought about it a lot over the past couple of days and I don't know exactly what it would have cost him to break his pledge like that, but I reckon he knew. But he still didn't hesitate."

"Well… just stick to the point," mumbled Subadar.

"All right… so, anyway, when we saw he was starting to make big gestures… I should say that me and Yülien were watching from a big rock not far away… anyway, when we saw him starting his ritual we thought we might as well go and look at things from the Outside. I mean, if the Dre tchenn had hidden the circle it was obviously through some adjustment to hyperspatial topology. That's logical, isn't it?"

"If you say so," said Yulmir.

"So we went to have a look. Nobody noticed, not even Xarax, because if you jump into the Outside and then jump back to the same place, it takes no time at all even if you stay in the Outside a while – Wak Yannan's Theorem explains how that works."

"I did once know a Guide called Wak Yannan, but I had no idea that he had authored a mathematical treatise."

"Well, I suppose it has to be him… but to get back to the story, me and Yülien jumped into the Outside and from there we could see the singularity, but we could also see that it was impossible to penetrate it. So we went to the In-between – that's what we decided to call the place beyond the Outside until the Council of Guides comes up with a proper name for it. And there… well, I won't ramble on with the details, but the main thing is that we saw that with the added dimensions getting inside would be a piece of cake, because seen from there it wasn't a singularity any more, just a little knot in hyperspace, really easy to deal with… well, not hard, anyway. So we came back and called Xarax over. We told him what we were doing so he wouldn't worry, and then we told Master Wenn Hyaï, and then we jumped over to Master Subadar and showed him what we'd found. He said he couldn't follow our reasoning very well but said that if we were sure he was ready to give it a try."

"If you don't mind, My Lord," said Subadar, "I'll take it from here. You're a Master Guide yourself, so I don't need to explain how quickly you can get something done with a few carefully organised jumps. Within a few minutes we had assembled an assault team here at the Palace. We restricted it to the people close to Julien, all of whom have been trained to use the special hand weapons: Tannder, Dennkar, Niil of the Ksantiris, Karik shel Tannder and myself, although I went along just in case I could be useful – I'm no expert with those weapons. Wenn Hyaï used his Gift to help the nyingtchik transport such a large group, although we had to rely exclusively on our young pair to get us safely to the destination. Getting everything ready took less than half a tchouksö, but we knew that time was of the essence."

"You have no idea just how true that was, my friend," commented Yulmir.

"When we arrived in the circle those who carried weapons used them immediately while I rushed to try to cut Julien free, and then Niil, who had run out of enemies to kill, finished the job with his nagtri, because my own blade wasn't getting very far. And then we came back here. The whole operation only lasted an instant."

"Is that it? My dear Subadar, I love the way you can tell a story while constantly downplaying your own part in it. Anyway, I can fill in the gaps for you in due course, and I also want to meet the rest of your team. But first we need to have a few words in private. I'm afraid Aldegard will have to wait a little longer."

***

"My friend," said Yulmir once they were alone, "I am absolutely determined to put an end to the 'Protector of the Nine Worlds' way of doing things. I have no intention of going on with being the Almighty Director of Everything for a few thousand years more. And I hope you're going to help me."

"I'd guessed something was wrong before you disappeared, My Lord," said Subadar. "But I had no idea that you wanted…"

"To retire? Yes, I did. In fact I started wanting that long before you were born. Xarax's predecessors killed me several times simply for thinking about it."

"What?!"

"Don't worry, Xarax isn't going to continue that particular tradition. One day I'll tell you how I got as close as I did to realising my goal. But now I owe it to Julien to finish the thing properly – and while we're on that subject I want you to try to think up a way to get him back, because at the moment he's buried even deeper inside me than I was inside him.

"But right now I need to take up the reins of the Empire again, even if I hope it's going to be the last time I have to do that. I have to try to persuade people that the Nine Worlds is going to have to get along in the future without Yulmir. I'm going to need your support and your clever thinking. Are you with me?"

"Of course, My Lord if that's what you want."

"Then to start with I'd like you to stop calling me 'My Lord' when we're in private. Just 'Yulmir' will do."

"Ah, now you remind me of someone else. He hates protocol, too."

"If you're referring to Julien I find myself liking him more and more."

"But surely you know him better than I do?"

"Not at all. The only information I have about him is what I could glean from his memory between my… let's call it 'reawakening' – and when I had to render him unconscious."

"Then all through those years…"

"All through those years I was unconscious, as if I was asleep. There was nothing else I could have done: I had no right to take over a child's body and so deny him any chance of a normal growth and development, or of a normal existence. I know a lot of people have called me a tyrant, but there are some crimes I won't stoop to."

Subadar's sudden pallor and Ugo's simultaneous groan stopped Yulmir short.

"What is it?" he asked.

"That's exactly what I did!" exclaimed Ugo. "I should have died. I wasn't able to transport my body any longer. And so I stole the life of a young dog, and there's no way to atone for something like that!"

"Yol," said Yulmir, "you only did it because you thought you were saving me. You didn't think about yourself, not even for one instant. I know you well, and so I know that you were ready to accept the consequences of your action because you hoped for an opportunity to send me back to the R'hinz. Our situations weren't so very different, but if I had done the same thing with Julien it would have been simply to preserve my own existence, not for the sort of higher motive you had. Besides, you didn't kill that young animal. In all probability he's still somewhere inside you now, just as Julien is inside me."

Yol's eyes seemed to light up and he pricked his ears in an almost comical fashion.

"If that's true," he said, "then somehow I'll find him and make up for the wrong I did him."

"There you are, then, Subadar," said Yulmir. "Now there's another reason for you to find a solution to our problem."

"Yes, Aldegard, you heard right: I have no intention of going on and on, migrating from one body to another in order to maintain the Sacred Tradition for the rest of time. You might think that's scandalous, but that's the way it is. And I'm inviting you, you and the other Mirrors, to help me prepare for the future. You can either waste your time by trying to persuade me to change my mind about a decision I took long before you were born, or by fighting me – although I can't see what good that would do you – or you can do what I would expect you to do, knowing you as I do, and use your best endeavours to help me to do what is best for the R'hinz you once swore to serve."

"Your Lordship, nobody here would dream of rebelling against you. I once told Julien that my life belonged to him, and obviously that oath applies to you too. It's just that I need some time to assimilate the idea of a R'hinz without a Protector. And perhaps I can remind you, My Lord, of what happened during your last long absence eighteen hundred cycles ago: it was complete and utter chaos."

"But the same history will have told you that I only left on that occasion because I was asked to do so most persistently – in fact someone even tried to poison me. Of course, that's how things were done back then. The Wars of the Three Empires and of the Hegemony of the Guides were ridiculous events which I could not possibly be held responsible for. What I'm talking about now is nothing like that: instead it's a complete change to the system – one that will be peaceful and properly explained – of the way the worlds interact with each other, with each people and each species becoming responsible for their own destiny. I know it isn't going to be easy, but I am convinced that it has to be done.

"As for you, Honourable Dennkar and Honourable Tannder, I hope you'll be willing to continue to offer me the same service that you offered Julien."

Both Master Warriors nodded their agreement.

"Dillik will of course maintain his position with Xarax and as the Emperor's Pupil. The Ambar-Yülien Nyingtchik is invited to stay with me in the Palace, and I will continue to fulfil my responsibilities as Yülien's akou nyipa. Lord Niil of the Ksantiris, I hope that you'll be prepared to transfer at least a part of your friendship for Julien to me and do me the favour of visiting as often as your duties as First Lord will allow."

Niil nodded too, as much to hide his confusion as to mark his agreement.

"As for you, Lord Tahlil," continued the Emperor, "I can only congratulate you for your performance as Mirror and as mentor to Lord Niil. I hope that you too will be able to support me through the difficult changes I'm proposing."

"Of course I will support you, Your Lordship. However, I do have a question, and it's one that I imagine that all the other friends of Julien in this room would also like answered."

"If you want to know if I'm doing everything I can to restore Julien to consciousness and give him his rightful place among us, then I can assure you that it is my first priority, and if anyone has any suggestions as to how I can achieve that I'd be only too willing to listen to them."

Nobody spoke, and so he went on: "I'm well aware that the changes I intend to implement will meet with fierce opposition from every guild, circle and company in the Nine Worlds. The same goes for the nobility, since their legitimacy comes from me. They will accuse me of failing in my mission, of betraying the empire and of wanting to destroy civilisation itself. They will also say that the only reason I'm doing it is to free myself from a burden that I chose to take up in the first place, and to be honest that's a perfectly fair comment. But nobody should be sentenced to immortality, and I've wanted to die throughout my most recent incarnations. And I mean real death, not just a transfer between bodies. I admit that there have been periods when I couldn't have cared less about what happened to the Nine Worlds just as long as I was able to cease existing. It's true that I hadn't quite taken that final step, but I was working towards it: I'd been trying to bring about conditions under which I could, so to speak, make a clean break. I hadn't quite got there when events brought us to where we are today, but I can assure you that now that I am finally in a position to be able to achieve my goal I have every intention of doing so."

This statement drew nothing but an expectant silence, and so Yulmir waited a few seconds more and then went on, "What I intend to do, with your help, is not simply designed to free me. The R'hinz too must break free from the stagnation in which it is unwittingly bound. In fact, the fanatics who take up arms from time to time in order to 'break the yoke of an omnipotent autocrat' are actually not all the dangerous lunatics people take them for. Some of them are people who have recognised that the whole world is caught in a deadly trap designed by people who thought they were doing the right thing. I was one of those people who thought he was doing the right thing, and I think I've paid the cost of that error many times over. Now I need your help to put things right. I want you all to help me send the Nine Worlds on a new journey along unexplored paths. Those paths may well lead into danger, but they will also lead to unexpected wonders."

He pointed to Ambar and Yülien, who were listening in amazement.

"This nyingtchik," he said, "has already taken the first steps along that path and between them this child of the Guides and this child of Men can show us the way. They have already broken the old rules and gone beyond the limit of what we thought defined the Known Universe. They have allowed us access to a new future, as if they had thrown open the shutters in a sick-room and allowed the light to flood in and help to heal the patient. And now, my friends, we all have to start working too."

***

"What's going on, Ambar?" asked Subadar. "Why did you ask to speak to me in private? You're acting like someone plotting something underhand."

"Don't be angry, Master Subadar, please. Me and Yülien, we need to talk to you."

"I'm listening."

"Well… I mean… look, we heard what the Emperor said, and…"

"Ambar, if you and your chenn-da have something to say, please say it instead of shilly-shallying around."

"Well, we was just wondering if… Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"Ah – yes, clearly we do need to talk. What makes you think the Emperor is lying?"

"It's just that he said his first priority was to bring back Julien. And then right after that he started talking about the changes he wants to make to the way the R'hinz is run, only that sort of change is going to take ages, and so… well, where is he going to put Julien while he's working on it? Are they going to have to share the body? Will Yulmir sort of pull back a bit to give Julien some control over his life? I mean, how's it supposed to work?"

"I think you're entitled to ask that question," said Subadar. "I imagine you've already got some idea of what the answer might be."

"Well, kind of. I don't know quite what he's going to do, but we reckon that Julien would sort of get in his way, and so we don't think he'll be all that keen to bring Julien back. And he said that Julien is unconscious, like he was asleep. Maybe he's right, but what if he's wrong?"

"Yes, I can see that those are serious concerns. What makes you think I'll be able to set your mind at rest?"

"We reckon that you're the person who knows him best – apart from Xarax, of course."

"It's certainly true that I was his disciple, but that doesn't mean that Yulmir was in the habit of confiding in me or telling me his secrets. However, I know – or at least, I think I know – that he's honest. That said, it's true that you can't wield power without lying sometimes, or at least without not telling the whole truth. If we were talking about any First Lord, or even a Mirror, I'd advise taking what they say with a pinch of salt. But with Yulmir I have to say that I am inclined to trust him. In any case, I don't see what your alternative might be."

"Nor do I, but I wanted to ask your opinion before talking to him."

"You want to talk to Yulmir?"

"Yes, we do."

"Might I ask why, if it's not prying?"

"Well, we might have an idea about how to get Julien back."

"That's great news! You should tell him straight away!"

"Yes, that's what we thought first of all. But then we thought about it for a bit and… see, I don't know about you, but when we see the Emperor we sort of think it's Julien even though we know it isn't, and it's like a thief has stolen his body… So telling him that we've thought of a way to get Julien back might be a bit like telling him we want him to go away and give the body back to its proper owner. Like we were saying 'All right, maybe you are the Emperor, but we'd rather it was our friend looking out from behind your eyes.' And what are we going to do if he says he needs time to change the R'hinz? Am I supposed to just stand there and say 'Of course, Your Lordship, take as long as you want'?"

Ambar hadn't intended to cry, but the big sobs that followed this statement went a long way towards helping Subadar understand Ambar's tragedy. He liked Julien a lot himself, but it was clear that the kid who was standing there trying to get himself under control while his companion whimpered against his leg was going through hell.

"Very well," he said. "This is what we're going to do: you're going to pull yourself together and go and wash your face, and then we'll go together to talk to Yulmir."

***

"So you want to take me to visit your famous 'non-dual auto-conscious being'?" asked Yulmir. "But I thought you said he wasn't able to help you last time? If he refuses to get involved in the affairs of our world, what makes you think this time might be different?"

"I just think this is different," said Ambar. "I think that he'll do something if he possibly can. After all, it wouldn't be doing something in our world, we'd just be asking him for a small personal favour."

"All right, but – as you said to Master Subadar – if it does work it's likely to make my job a whole lot harder. You have to admit that it would be easier to let things get properly under way before we complicate things further."

Ambar said nothing, because he was trying to keep his face expressionless.

"But," Yulmir went on, "I've suffered enough because of 'reasons of state' that I can understand why we should perhaps ignore them this time. I said that getting Julien back was my first priority, so we'll do what you propose. I'm sure that if they knew about it my Mirrors would find lots of perfectly good reasons why we shouldn't do that, and so we're not going to tell them. We'll go on our own, just the three of us. Xarax says he's willing to stay here, although I suspect that if anything goes wrong even Dillik won't be able to feed him, and if we don't come back dear Aldegard will have the unpleasant duty of telling the world all about it…"

***

> Entity Nyingtchik Yülien-Ambar. Entity Yülmir-Julien. What you ask is assuredly possible. However the probabilities of incompatibility between the imbricated elements Yulmir and Julien remain dangerously high and threaten to compromise an acceptable level of efficiency within a delay of twenty-three axial rotations of the planet designated "Nüngen", plus or minus four temporal divisions designated as tchoutsö.

"Does that mean that we can't make Julien come back?" asked Ambar. "That the Emperor and him can't live in the same body?"

> No. It only implies that their coexistence in the same organism is quickly bound to fail.

"Does it mean that Julien – or Yulmir – would die, then?"

> No, his self-consciousness would be reabsorbed into a basic-potential state which is not equivalent to what you call sleep. It could rather be compared to the minimum level of energy of a complex system.

"So there's nothing we can do?"

> Yes, but the consequences would be as I stated them.

"We can't make Julien come back without things turning out badly?"

> Indeed. However, it is possible to consider another way to bring back the entity Julien to auto-consciousness."

***

"Ambar! I knew you'd come for me! Where are we – and what about the sorcerers?"

"We're guests of the non-dual auto-conscious being."

"Who? Ah, yes, I remember – the conscious universe, I think you called it. But where's Yulmir? He was here – you know, in my body, I mean. But he isn't here now."

"Don't worry, he's just next door. Yülien is with him."

"It was really horrible, Ambar. If he hadn't been there… you mean he has a body now??"

"That's right. Apparently you and him can't live in the same body, at least not if you're both awake. And I have to say I like it better like it is now."

"Can we go and see him?"

"If you like. You'll get a bit of a shock, though."

"Why? Is he as ugly as all that?"

"Oh, no, not at all. He's actually rather… well, you'll see."

The wall of the spherical room they were in seemed to dissolve on one side to connect to another space, rather like two bubbles merging into one on the surface of a liquid. Yülien and Yulmir were there. Julien had been partly expecting what he saw, but it still came as a bit of shock to find himself looking at himself, not as a mirror image but in the flesh. The Julien he was looking at, the one who wasn't himself, was smiling. He looked exactly like himself, and somehow Julien found the other boy's nudity a bit disturbing. It was the Emperor who broke the silence.

"Welcome back, Julien," he said. "Yes… I'm sorry, but this was the only model available in this universe unless I wanted to look like Ambar instead, and while Ambar is certainly very… decorative, I'm not sure that I want to have to start puberty from scratch all over again. At least you're well into it… In any case, the people who matter, politically speaking, are used to an Emperor who looks like you."

"I want to thank you," said Julien.

"You want to thank me? What for? I should be saying thank you to you for hosting me for so many years."

"I want to thank you for shielding me from the Dre tchenn. And for bringing me back, of course."

"That was just me being selfish. I'm used to your company now. And I really want to know what I look like from the back. Could you turn round, please?"

Julien couldn't help laughing as he turned round.

"Not bad!" commented Yulmir. "But I really look like a girl with that mane of hair. It's obviously time for me to come back before you have an irreversibly dreadful influence over our young people."

"My parents are going to love you," said Julien.

But the flippancy of the remark couldn't block out the magnitude of the situation and Julien was soon overwhelmed by his emotions. Images suddenly came back to him, appalling and obscene, together with the feeling that something within himself had been irredeemably defiled. A voice was heard in the neutral space of the bubble.

> Separate entity Julien. If the references to past experiences risk hindering the optimum functioning of your continuum of consciousness, they can still be suppressed without damage.

"Do you mean that you can erase my memories?" asked Julien.

> That formulation does not exactly conform to reality, but it is a sufficient approximation for a superficial understanding.

"You mean, I won't remember what the Dre tchenn did to me?"

> That is true.

The mere thought of being cleansed of that heap of filth filled him with a joy similar to the relief he had felt when Yulmir had put a stop to the torture inflicted by the Dre tchenn. He certainly had no wish that he should ever again have to face those scenes, so horrible and unbearable and yet so dreadfully lifelike.

"Then I…" he began.

"Wait!" cut in his double. "I really wouldn't do that, Julien. Our host only wants to help you, I'm sure, but I should warn you that you'd do better not to willingly amputate an essential part of your life, rather than curing the problem."

"But I don't want to remember any of it – it was disgusting!"

"I understand that, but to suppress it could be even more harmful. If you like I will help you to do whatever it takes to come to terms with it. Trust me – I'm a lot older than you and I know what I'm talking about here."

> These references can be conditioned to be accessed only through a particular voluntary mental action. A kind of… The closest example in your system of thought would be the use of a kind of coded key to access a particular compartment in your data storage, your… memory.

It was Yulmir who answered:

"That sounds perfect, Julien. I advise you to accept."

Once they were back in the calm atmosphere of the Palace Julien hoped that he would be able to return to a normal existence. Yulmir decreed that he would take up residence himself in another section of the Palace not far away, leaving Julien the use of the apartments in which he and his friends had been living. Those friends were now reunited with him and happy to celebrate his return.

"So you're not the Emperor any more?" asked Dillik, incredulously.

"No, I'm not."

"But you've still got the Marks!"

"I don't think I'll get to keep them for very long. Actually I won't mind that at all, because I don't want people mistaking me for someone else all the time. I'm not a Guide any more, either, because the Gift is Yulmir's and I'm not Yulmir any longer."

"Well, I don't care," said Dillik. "You're still my friend. If you want to be, of course. And I'm sure Xarax feels the same way, even if he does have to work with the Emperor too."

The haptir wasn't with them – no doubt he was bringing his relationship with his master up to date.

"I'm sure you're right," agreed Julien.

"So what are you going to do now, then?"

"Give him a chance!" interrupted Niil. "He's only been back for two tchoutsö."

"It's all right," said Julien. "It's nice to be able to talk about something other than the affairs of the Empire for a change. I think I'll start with a little holiday. I hope Yulmir won't mind lending us the house by Lake Gyamtso. Niil, do you think Tahlil will mind if you leave your trankenn for a bit?"

"He'd better not unless he wants to have to deal with an abdication."

"What about you, Karik? Will Tannder give you some leave for a bit of rest and recreation?"

"He didn't wait for me to ask – he just said I have to stay with you for as long as you like."

"And you, Ugo? Do you want to come with us?"

"Of course, I'd be delighted. So when do you intend telling your parents what has happened?"

"I don't know. I don't think it'll make a lot of difference to them anyway."

"Don't you think they'll be happy to find out that you're no longer the target of plots and assassins?"

"Of course, but they might also decide that now they have to hold themselves responsible for my upbringing and education, and I'm not sure I'm all that keen about that. I'd much sooner have a clear idea of what I want to do with my life before I explain things to them. All right, then, if everyone agrees and we can get Yulmir's permission we can leave tomorrow morning."

***

"Don't you miss being able to go wherever you want without having to ask anyone?" asked Ambar.

"Not really. I don't miss the Gift and I certainly don't miss the power. The only thing I could miss now would be you."

"Me?!"

"Yes, you. You're an important person now, a recognised mathematical genius and an explorer of unknown universes. Maybe you won't want to hang about with a mere nobody any more."

"You're teasing, aren't you?"

"Well, yes. But I meant what I said about the Gift – I really don't miss that. In any case I'm pretty sure that the little so-and-so who is lying at the bottom of the bed and pretending to be asleep will take me wherever I like, whenever I like."

Yülien rolled close enough to be able to put a paw on Julien's ankle.

You're my akou nyipa, he said. I don't care what anyone says, and I don't care that you're not the Emperor any longer either. His Lordship, I'm sure he's really nice, but I don't know him. With you it's different. You're just you, see, and… well, I like you. And you're right: I'll always take you wherever you want, whenever you want. And so will every Guide in the Katak Clan, because you're still part of our Clan: it's your family as well as mine.

Thank you, Yülien. Do you want to come and sleep between us?

Well, er… I wouldn't want to disturb you, or anything. But if that's what you want…"

I said to sleep. To sleep, and perhaps to dream. Nothing more.

I've no idea what you might be talking about!

***

"Julien?"

"Mmmmnn?"

"I need a pee. Will you come with me? I'm scared of the dark!"

"Dillik!"

End of Volume Two