The Burning Man kots-2, page 23
part #2 of Kingdom of the Serpent Series
‘That and more.’
‘We need that information. Everything depends on it.’
Ogma smiled and Mallory thought instantly of his father. ‘You are confusing knowledge, or wisdom, with the journey to achieve that wisdom. Both are separate, both equally important. For the journey is transformational, and is necessary to impart the power to use the wisdom once it is achieved. One without the other is worthless.’
‘So find it yourself — that’s what you’re saying.’
‘The key to your search is here and within your ability to locate.’
‘But people could be dying while we waste time looking! All I’m asking is to cut a few corners-’
Sophie restrained Mallory with a hand on his arm. ‘Everything valuable has to be earned. That’s the lesson of the Craft. We can do this.’
‘All right. But you’ll give us some help if we ask the right questions?’
‘Of course.’ Ogma gestured expansively around his library. ‘Open yourselves to Existence. It will help you.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Mallory muttered. ‘No such thing as coincidence. I know the drill.’
While Jerzy sat next to the blazing fire, the others drifted off amongst the stacks in search of inspiration. Superficially it appeared a hopeless task — there were more volumes than they could examine in several lifetimes — but their instincts told them otherwise. What they had witnessed during the ritual in Math’s tower still flickered across their deep unconscious with two words rising repeatedly — MAT and ANM.
Some of the books were in unknown languages that gradually became comprehensible the more Mallory scanned them. Others left him with inexplicable emotions, euphoria or dread, and he was forced to close them quickly.
Occasionally he would glimpse figures flitting amongst the stacks, ghosts of the past or future, some like wisps of smoke in a shaft of light, others unnervingly substantial, their feet dragging on the flags.
One, a chilling figure with a body constructed from twisted blackthorn and a face that appeared to be made from crushed and folded paper, paused then turned slowly to stare at him. Mallory sensed a threatening aura emanating from the creature. The paper shifted gradually into an expression that appeared to say, ‘Perhaps we’ll meet again, soon.’
Mallory hurried on.
After a while his attention was caught by a full-length mirror trimmed with ebony on a silver stand. It caught the torchlight in an unsettling way. A legend was inscribed in gold on the top: We are all books, our experiences writ large for everyone to read.
Don’t look in it, a voice in Mallory’s head warned. He looked.
A sensation of falling came a second after he saw the reflection of a Mallory he did not recognise. Memories swam before his eyes. The cocky young man who thought the world couldn’t touch him. Nights in the club, the music vibrating through his bones. The rushing joy that only came before you realised troubles might wait just over the horizon. And then the hard men who had taught him a hard lesson. The realisation that some choices are impossible, but you have to make them anyway, and the price is etched on your soul. He saw the blood on his hands and relived the feeling that nothing would ever be right again. He’d come to terms with what the sickening criminal thugs had forced him to do — worse, what he’d chosen to do — but he knew he would always be trying to make amends for it.
Death was always the catalyst, the philosopher’s stone whose alchemical touch transformed the base to the sublime, sadder, more frightened but wiser. That terrible night had given him new eyes. He recalled the next day, walking down the street and being able to tell at a glance those who had had their first experience of death, and those who were still innocent; you always remember the first time.
And then Sophie had come along and shown him that there was still life after death, a new life, more vibrant than the one before. Sophie who had saved him.
Blue flames flickered in the depths of the glass and Hal appeared briefly, superimposed over Mallory’s own reflection. A sad smile appeared on the flaming face and it mouthed the words, ‘Hold on to moments of joy — they slip through your fingers like sand.’
3
Caitlin’s three constant companions bickered incessantly deep inside her head. The old crone Brigid cackled and mocked, much to the irritation of the neurotic Briony, while Amy pleaded and whimpered for them to stop. Caitlin had learned to fade them out so that she had some respite to hear her own thoughts, but every now and then they would break back through. No peace, ever.
‘You can’t have him. He belongs to someone else,’ Briony was saying in her snide tones.
‘I don’t want him. That doesn’t mean I can’t like him,’ Caitlin said, then looked around in case any of the others were near enough to hear her talking to herself.
‘She’s already forgotten Grant.’ Brigid cackled. ‘Out of sight, deep in the ground, out of mind.’
‘I haven’t!’ Tears sprang to Caitlin’s eyes. Was there some truth in what Brigid said? Was she forgetting her husband? It couldn’t be — the grief was still sharp.
‘And what about Thackeray? Isn’t he your boyfriend?’ Amy’s innocent voice made her questions even more poignant.
‘I don’t know where he is. Leave me alone!’ Caitlin clutched at her head. Silence, that was all she wanted, and there were times when she thought she would only find that in death. Never alone, she felt so alone.
She caught sight of Mallory across the aisle and three stacks down. He didn’t see her. A tingle ran down her back and into her groin, followed by a pang of guilt. The feelings were mysterious in origin, and she did her best to suppress them, but they were growing stronger. As long as she could keep them locked away there wouldn’t be a problem.
4
Sophie watched Caitlin watching Mallory and instantly saw every thought inside her head. It felt like a betrayal. Her feelings were already a stew of guilt and doubt and confusion; now she could add mistrust to the mix.
Was Caitlin attempting to steal Mallory away behind her back? Or was she just going to be barefaced about it? And if she couldn’t trust these two, who could she trust? It only confirmed her feelings that they were wrong about Niamh. She’d only ever showed Sophie kindness, and love, and what had happened between them was wrong, a betrayal of her relationship with Mallory, but it had only been once, an accident arising out of closeness, and there had been a lot of good in it, and it wouldn’t happen again, so that was all right.
Anger bubbled up in her. She hated losing control, and that made her angry at Caitlin even more. Why couldn’t she control her stupid crushes? Didn’t she realise how much was at stake?
Unable to look at Caitlin any more, she turned and let out a cry when she found Ogma standing behind her. His gaze delved into the deepest part of her. She shifted uneasily, but could not escape its focus.
‘You remind me of the other Sister of Dragons,’ he said. ‘The other mistress of Craft.’
‘Ruth?’
‘Both of you so fragile behind the face you show the world, both searching, inside and out.’
‘I’ve found what I’m looking for. And now I’m going to make sure I hang on to it.’
Ogma grew puzzled. A silver pin at his shoulder grew and changed shape. The Caraprix crawled down his body, unable to settle on a new form.
‘Here!’ Distracted by Mallory’s cry, Sophie found him examining a large, leather-bound tome. Caitlin was close at his side, scrutinising the pages. Sophie flinched.
‘Serendipity.’ Mallory grinned. ‘I looked round and saw Caitlin looking at me. This book just caught my eye behind her head.’
‘Let me look,’ Sophie said sharply.
Inscribed at the top of facing pages were the words MAT and ANM. Beneath were two large circles surrounded by markings that resembled astrological symbols, drawings of the sun and the moon and writing in a language that none of them recognised.
‘Definitely looks like a calendar of some kind,’ Mallory said.
‘What is this?’ Sophie said to Ogma, who was watching them with a hint of a smile.
‘Your kind know it as the Coligny Calendar. It was a gift, from me to the tribes, to a group known as the Culture. Ancient knowledge that would help them on the long road to ascension.’
Caitlin closed her eyes to focus on Math’s images in her head. ‘I can see it. The sun and the moon turning … all these different symbols. Why did Math leave us with a vision of a calendar?’
‘What do these words mean?’ Mallory pointed to MAT and ANM.
Ogma indicated MAT. ‘In the tongue of one tribe, Maith, in another, Mad, meaning “good”.’ He circled ANM with his index finger. ‘An Maith, or Anfad — “not good”.’
Mallory pondered on this as he studied the drawings. ‘The year is marked into two halves. This one’s black-’
‘Winter?’ Sophie suggested.
‘And this one’s light. Summer. But what’s this word between the two halves? Atenvix?’
‘Renewal.’ Ogma pronounced the word with gravity.
‘I don’t get it. What was Math thinking?’ Sophie asked.
As they debated the significance of the calendar, a loud grating rang through the halls of the library. It was the sound of a long-closed door opening.
Ogma looked around sharply, hearing other noises beyond their range. His placid face grew grave. ‘You must leave this place,’ he said. ‘Great danger has arrived.’
Mallory drew Llyrwyn. The surge of blue flames took their breath away.
‘This library is the greatest source of knowledge in all Existence,’ Ogma said. ‘Its power is a threat to the Great Authority. It remained untouched for as long as it maintained its neutrality, for the Devourer of All Things does not act as long as the constant state stays in balance.’
‘But you’ve helped us. And now you need to be taken out,’ Mallory said.
‘You didn’t have to help us,’ Sophie said. ‘Why did you risk it if you knew this was going to happen?’
‘We all have a part to play. Tiny actions may have large repercussions. Everything — every apparently insignificant thread — makes up a vital part of the great tapestry.’
‘Come with us,’ Mallory urged.
Ogma shook his head. ‘I must do what I can to protect my library.’ He nodded to them with a troubling finality and then moved quickly away.
Mallory put the book into his backpack. ‘I don’t think he’ll mind us taking this under the circumstances. Anybody remember the way out of here? This place is a maze.’
‘I can help. Just give me a moment.’ Sophie leaned her head against the stacks, eyes closed.
Distant, but drawing closer, came the measured, heavy tramp of feet. The sound was accompanied by a faint whispering that dampened their spirits, and a gradual change in the atmosphere like the building charge before an electrical storm.
Sophie jerked as if in the throes of an orgasm. At her feet, tiny azure flames crackled briefly before a single thin line of blue moved out across the floor, indicating the way to the entrance.
‘One slight problem,’ Mallory said: the light disappeared into the shadows in the direction of the approaching threat.
Mallory led the way through room after room with the noise of the intruders growing ever louder. Whatever was coming disrupted the peculiar atmosphere of the library, and the time-lost spectres jumped and broke up as if there was interference on a signal. Those that were more solid somehow sensed what was coming; in one aisle, a naked, green woman sat sobbing, tearing at her hair, her eyes wide with fear.
Signalling for the others to move off the main aisle, they hid at the far end of a stack as a deafening metallic dragging entered the chamber. With it came a sound that was not a sound, like an enormous heart beating or the steady rhythm of a war drum.
The torches cast a huge shadow down the central aisle. Sophie’s own heart began to thunder, and she thought she was going to be sick. Whatever it was carried its own noxious psychic atmosphere that assailed her emotions.
Finally she saw it. The intruder rose up above the stacks, nearly eight feet tall. Rusty iron plates hung down its front and back from chains, and its body reminded Sophie of an abattoir worker, muscular, arms smeared with blood. The chains that held the iron plates were fastened to its flesh. It wore a helmet of smaller rusty iron plates, roughly bolted together, and behind it the creature dragged a bloodstained sword as big as itself.
Mallory gripped Llyrwyn with both hands, but Sophie urged him not to attack. They both knew he wouldn’t stand a chance.
Slipping around the rear of the stacks, they passed the Iron Slaughterman. Beyond the huge figure, the library swarmed with other things just as terrifying: some had the heads of rats or wolves and stopped periodically to sniff the air until Sophie was filled with dread that they would be found; others leaked purple mist, weapons rammed into their decomposing bodies.
The companions ducked behind stacks or scurried quickly into the shadows, diverting into rooms away from the blue line to avoid being discovered. Eventually they huddled in a corner of a large chamber, unable to move forward or back.
‘There’s only four of me,’ Caitlin whimpered in her little-girl’s voice. ‘I’m missing a part. I need to be whole.’
‘Stop whining,’ Sophie hissed, and then hated herself for it.
The grating sound of the Iron Slaughterman’s sword drew near again, this time approaching along the rear of the stacks. Mallory moved them towards the central aisle, but there was also movement there.
In the brightly lit central area of the chamber near two rows of reading desks, the sound of another door opening heralded the air peeling back to reveal a rectangle of darkness like deepest space. From the reaches of the void, a white cloud roiled towards the door, revealing a figure at its heart. Emerging into the library, it hovered several feet above the flags, black robes sparkling with starlight. In one hand it held a large golden key and in the other an ironwood stick. Waves of power rolled off it, worse than the Iron Slaughterman’s aura, and it took a long moment for Sophie’s seesawing mind to settle on features it could accept.
Finally she saw bone-white skin framed by black hair, a sharp nose and slanted eyes. After a few seconds, it flipped to negative — black skin, white hair — and then back again, continuously.
‘Janus,’ Mallory whispered.
Divom Deus, the god’s God. Sophie recalled Church’s account of how he had been tortured by the dual-faced god of doorways and new beginnings in ancient Rome.
The creatures prowling the library emerged from the stacks and gathered before the god. ‘Destroy everything.’ Janus’s voice rolled out like a tolling bell.
Sophie, Mallory and Caitlin were so mesmerised by the scene that they failed to realise that the Iron Slaughterman had rounded the stacks behind them. They were only saved by Brigid shrieking through Caitlin, ‘Ware! Run! Run!’
Sophie and Caitlin were thrown to one side by Mallory as the great sword cleaved in an arc, smashing a stack and tearing through the priceless volumes. Where the tattered books fell, light radiated from them, and some jumped and shook like living things.
Mallory attacked furiously, but Llyrwyn clanged with little effect against the Slaughterman’s breast-plate. Mallory only escaped the edge of its sword by a hair’s breadth.
Sophie cursed her inability to marshal her Craft under pressure. There was movement all around her. Something with snapping jaws gnashed an inch from her face. It took her a second to realise she had only survived because Caitlin had dragged her clear.
Confusion erupted as the creatures swarmed. But from nowhere came a pure sound, like the ringing of crystal, and sudden flashing light that brought all the things to a halt. Along the central aisle surged Ogma, the light coming off him. His face was too terrible to examine, and the creatures fell away from his path as he rushed towards Janus.
A soundless explosion washed through the chamber as the two gods met. Half-blinded, Sophie grabbed Caitlin and Mallory and hauled them past the dazzled creatures. She kept her attention fixed on the blue line barely visible on the flags, driving the other two before her until they reached the entrance hall.
Caitlin was crying as they tumbled out into the night, where their horses stamped and snorted fearfully. Flecks of snow blew in the chill air. Jerzy emerged from behind a bush where he had been hiding.
‘I sensed danger. I couldn’t find you. I ran …’ He hugged Mallory pathetically. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m a coward.’
‘Why did Ogma do that?’ Caitlin said through her tears. ‘He didn’t know us, didn’t have any connection with us or what we wanted.’
Mallory comforted her with an arm around her shoulders, a gesture Sophie did not miss. ‘I’m guessing he thought we were worth the sacrifice.’
They clambered quickly onto their horses and set off for the Court of the Soaring Spirit. But as they thundered down the hillside, Sophie’s thoughts were not turned to the mysteries of the calendar or the threat that lay ahead, but to Mallory and Caitlin and issues of trust and betrayal.
5
Cairo was crushed beneath layers of oven-heat that baked the dusty streets and made even the slightest movement an effort. The languid drift of the Nile divided the city along clear architectural lines. To the west were the public gardens, wide boulevards and open spaces that allowed the great, gleaming skyscrapers and modern Government buildings to breathe easily. To the east, the winding lanes and crowded tenements jostled for space against the hundreds of age-old mosques, seething amidst a cacophony of voices, music and traffic noise, stewing in the smells of spices and cooking meat and discarded rubbish. Beneath the surface, ancient fault-lines divided it on a deeper level, between the mythological and the real, where ancient histories and barely forgotten beliefs whispered threateningly down the ages.
Church was clearly aware of those conflicts as he attempted, without much luck, to shelter from the stifling heat on the edge of the great souk, Khan el-Khalili, under the awning at a pavement table of the El-Fishawi cafe, which also went by the name of the Cafe of Mirrors. An elegant echo of more peaceful days, quietly resting down a side street off Sikkit al-Badistan, it was an oasis of reflection within the teeming market, where artists and writers talked quietly over coffee, scribbled on pads or tapped on laptops, lost to their thoughts. After the constant motion of the latest four-day leg of their journey, Church welcomed the opportunity to sit still in one place for a while.
