One of the peculiar group walked forward, his thoughts calm, welcoming, reassuring. A tall man with a handsome face-a known face, though it was darker than it had been before, and the hair was brown instead of light ginger as it ought to be. Such trivia was irrelevant, for this was a face that could not possibly be here, not in the real world.
Edeard’s third hand withered away. “No,” he whispered. “This cannot be. You are a dream.”
The man smiled. There were tears in his eyes. “As are you.”
“Inigo?”
“Edeard!”
“My brother.” They embraced, Edeard hugging the man as if his life depended on it. Inigo was the only thing that made sense in the world right now; he was the anchor. “Hold me,” Edeard begged. “Do not let me go. The world is falling apart.”
“It’s not, I promise. I am here to get you through this.”
Edeard’s thoughts were awhirl, panicked, dazed. “The life you lived,” he choked out.
“Nothing compared to yours,” Inigo assured him.
“But … those worlds you showed me, the wonders that dwell there. It’s all real?”
“Yes. It’s all real. That is the universe outside the Void. The place where the ships that brought Rah and the Lady came from.”
“Oh, dear Lady.”
“I know this is a shock. I’m sorry for that. There is no way I could have warned you.”
Edeard nodded slowly and moved back to gaze incredulously at the one person he’d believed was forever beyond reach. “I thought you were someone the Lady had sent to comfort me as I slept. You showed me what kind of life could be built if only we tried. And I have tried so hard -” His voice broke. He was close to weeping.
“You did more than that, Waterwalker, so much more,” a young woman said. She had dark red hair and a pretty freckled face, and she looked at him so worshipfully, he was astounded. “You succeeded.”
Edeard glanced shamefacedly at Inigo. “You know what I have done, what I am fleeing from.”
“We all know your life. That is why we are here.”
“You can help me? Is that why you have come?”
“You don’t need our help,” Inigo said. “Your triumph was magnificent. Whole planets marvel at your achievements here in Makkathran.”
“I don’t understand. I’ve screwed this up just as Owain and Buate and their ilk always claimed I would. I became what they were, Honious take me.”
“No, you didn’t,” the woman said earnestly. “Edeard, listen to me. After the unity attempt failed, your next effort to bring peace and fulfillment to Querencia worked. You never reset the Void again; you never needed to. You and Kristabel and your friends all accepted guidance to the Heart in old age. It was beautiful to behold.”
“You speak as if this has already happened.” Edeard gave the woman a curious look as some very uncomfortable thoughts began to gather in his mind.
“Edeard.” Inigo put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “We’ve only just arrived in the Void. In here time flows much quicker than it does outside. Which is why only a few hundred years have gone by out there compared to the millennia here. You are our past. I brought you out of the Void’s memory.”
“Are you saying I have already lived my life? All of my life?”
“Yes.”
“But …” His farsight swept out again, desperate to find anyone else. “Where is everybody? If I succeeded the way you claim, what happened to the people I tried to help? Their grandchildren should still be here. Did they desert the city?”
Inigo appeared embarrassed. “You created a society where it was possible for everyone to achieve fulfillment. Eventually, all the humans here accepted guidance. The last one left for the Heart several thousand years ago.”
“Gone?” He couldn’t believe it. “All of them gone? There were millions of us living on Querencia.”
“I know.”
“Why did you bring me back?” Edeard asked bitterly.
“We need your help.”
“Ha! Then Honious knows you picked the wrong man; Finitan is more worthy than me, or even Dinlay. And even if you had no choice, you should have brought back this future Edeard you spoke of, the one who is triumphant.”
“I chose you very carefully. You are exactly the Edeard I need.”
“Why?”
“Determination,” Inigo said simply. “This is the you who resolved never to let anything beat him no matter what. You, the you of this day, are the best Waterwalker there ever was. This is the moment your triumph was built upon.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Edeard said weakly.
“I’m truly sorry this was how we had to meet. But we really do need your help.”
“How? How in the Lady’s name can I possibly help people who have the power to travel between universes?” He was watching Inigo gathering himself to reply, when the really strange one with the battered face and tormented thoughts stepped forward.
“I am Aaron, and I have come here to ask you to take us to the Heart.”
Edeard almost laughed at him, but the man was in so much suffering and so fired up with desperation, he was clearly speaking the truth. “Why?”
“Because that has to be what controls the Void. I must speak with it, or Inigo must, or even you. Whichever of us it will listen to.”
“What would you say to it?”
“You’re killing us. Switch off.”
Inigo’s arm went around Edeard’s shoulder again. “This is going to take a while to explain,” he said gently.
The bright sun was well on its way to the western horizon, coating the edges of Eyrie’s towers in a familiar cerise haze. And yet not familiar , Edeard thought sadly. This Makkathran he found himself in was a sorrowful one indeed. The buildings were exactly as they should be-oh, but the rest of the districts and canals. It didn’t suffer decay-the fabulous city would never fall to that-but it had become shabby . Without its citizens, it was a poor specter of itself in its glory days. And there was so little left of the people who lived here, nothing more than blemished trinkets and stubborn dust. That they should have vanished with so little to show for their achievements was infinitely depressing. As was knowing he was forever separate from them all now. Though he supposed he could reset the Void once more, somehow he didn’t have the appetite to plunge back in to what had been. Besides, according to Corrie-Lyn, he had already won his life’s battle. And if he understood what his mind-brother Inigo was saying, he was responsible for unleashing devastation upon the true universe outside.
“More ships are coming?” he asked.
“Yes,” Inigo admitted. “My fault. I was besotted with your life.”
They were sitting on the steps outside the Lady’s central church, each of the visitors doing what he or she could to help him comprehend Inigo’s story of what was happening in the galaxy outside and what the Void actually was. It had taken hours.
“You showed people my life,” Edeard said, not quite accusing, but …
“I did. You never told anyone of mine.”
“They would have thought me mad, even Kristabel. Flying carriages. People who live forever. Hundreds of inhabited worlds. Machine servants instead of genistars. Cities where Makkathran would be naught but a small district. A civilization where justice was available to all. Aliens. More stars in the sky than it is possible to count. No, such marvels of my fevered imagination were best kept inside my skull. Except it wasn’t my imagination; it was all you.”
“I hope I was of some help, some comfort.”
“You were.” Edeard finally gathered the courage he’d so far lacked and asked the question: “This future I lived, the one where I finally achieved guidance to the Heart … was Burlal part of it?”
Читать дальше