Part 17 (1/2)

He was whole.

The river was back.

He was whole.

DarkGla.s.s Mountain was gone. Every sense of it had vanished. It was gone.

And the One . . . Isaiah could not feel him at all.

He, too, was gone.

Isaiah gave himself one moment of sheer happiness, then he rose to his feet. It must have been Maximilian or Ishbel, or both. Nothing else could have managed the destruction of the One or of DarkGla.s.s Mountain.

Isaiah chuckled. ”I had not thought either of you capable of managing it,” he said softly, ”but I am more than glad to be proved wrong.”

He couldn't decide what to do next. Talk to Hereward? To Lamiah? To the d.a.m.ned juit birds and find out why they were here and what they knew? Try to communicate with Axis, or Maximilian, or Ishbel?

Out of all those possibilities, Hereward was coming a distant last, but as he turned to retrace his steps Isaiah saw her tent and decided he might as well speak with her while he was here.

Besides, she would be pleased to learn he had his power back.

Smiling happily (and drawing strange looks from the soldiers for that smile), Isaiah walked over to Hereward's tent.

”Hereward?” Isaiah lifted the flap and looked inside.

Hereward was sitting on her camp bed and looked at him irritably when he came in.

”I do not need you,” she said.

”Nonetheless,” Isaiah said. He came over and sat down beside her, then carefully lifted away the linen she had pressed against her neck.

”Be careful!” she snapped.

”I will be careful,” Isaiah said. The wound had started to coagulate -- it had not been as bad or as deep as the original had been, although frightening enough -- and was only seeping a pinkish fluid now.

Isaiah wondered why it had reopened. What did it signify? Was it just another effect of the destruction of the pyramid and the One, and the rebirth of the River Lhyl?

Or was there some darker mystery behind it?

His fingers probed at Hereward's neck and she hissed at him, making Isaiah look at her sharply.

”Don't touch it, Isaiah,” she said. ”There is nothing you can do to --”

Isaiah's fingers ran over the soft scab, just lightly, and suddenly it was healed, completely sealed over.

Hereward twisted her face about to stare at him. She lifted her own fingers to her neck, and her eyes widened. ”What did you do? How .?”

”I have my power back, Hereward. I am whole.”

Hereward stared at him uncomprehendingly. ”Whole?”

Isaiah laughed, softly at first, then louder in sheer joy. ”The river G.o.d is back, Hereward. What say you?”

”That I preferred the man,” she said, and her tone was so dismissive that Isaiah's laughter died, and he rose and left the tent.

Isaiah walked to the edge of the encampment, irritated at Hereward. Once again he thought how good it would be to leave her behind.

Or to hand her over to her father Ezekiel at Elcho Falling.

”She has never been anything but trouble,” Isaiah muttered to himself.

He reached the edge of the camp, walked about ten paces toward the juit birds, then sat down, bowing his head as he did so.

Isaiah may have had his powers as river G.o.d restored, but the juit birds were so magical as to be barely of this world. They deserved his respect.

The birds turned to regard him with their bright black eyes, then one walked forward and, a pace away from Isaiah, fluffed out its feathers and sank to the ground.

You have returned to us, Mighty One, said the bird. We thought to have lost you forever.

I thought to have lost myself, Isaiah said. Tell me, what brings you here?

A great transference of power. Something came down from this land to the gla.s.s obscenity -- Isaiah had to restrain a smile at the bird's description of the pyramid. -- and in return, here we are. There was a balance required.

Isaiah nodded, understanding. It was the Lord of Elcho Falling who came to the pyramid?

We do not know who it was.

It must have been Maximilian, likely with Ishbel, Isaiah thought, and then did smile, thinking that they were working very hard to avoid him!

What can you tell me, bright-feathered one?

That the ma.s.s of grey wraiths approach, Isaiah. They are, perhaps, but three hours away. Are you ready?

Eleanon and Bingaleal sat on a mountain top several hours' flight from Elcho Falling.

They had flown there this very morning in the s.p.a.ce of just three breaths. For a long time they sat in silence, revelling in the growth of their potential, in their union with Infinity which had brought them so much power -- ever-increasing -- and at the sight of Elcho Falling in the far distance which they could just pick out in the darkness.

As they cast their gaze about, both Lealfast men could see as far as Escator to the west, to Elcho Falling in the east and to the foothills of the FarReach Mountains in the south.

They did not cast their eyes northward. They never wanted to see the frozen wastes again. It had been a prison for too long.

”Interesting times,” Bingaleal said eventually, and his brother sighed and stretched his arms.

Frost crackled and fell from his skin, which gleamed a soft ivory in the morning light.

”DarkGla.s.s Mountain is no more,” Bingaleal said.