Margaret Weis - The Hand of Chaos

The Nexus was protected from the other worlds—the worlds of Sartan and mensch—by Death’s Gate. So long as Death’s Gate remained closed, no one could leave or enter who had not mastered the powerful magic required to travel it. Xar had mastered the secret, but only after eons of long and difficult study of Sartan writings. He had mastered it and passed his wisdom on to Haplo, who had ventured forth into the universe.

“But suppose,” Xar said to himself beneath his breath, his eyes darting side to side, attempting to pierce the darkness that had always before been restful, was now ominous, “suppose Death’s Gate were opened! I sensed a change when I came out of the Labyrinth—as if a breath of air stirred suddenly within a house long closed up and sealed shut. I wonder...”

“No need to wonder, Xar, Lord of Patryns,” came a voice from out of the darkness. “Your mind is quick, your logic infallible. You are correct in your assumption. Death’s Gate has been opened. And by your enemies.” Xar halted. He could not see the speaker, hidden in shadows, but he could see eyes, flickering with a strange red light, as if they reflected a distant fire. His body warned him that the speaker was powerful and might prove dangerous, but Xar heard no note of threat or menace in the sibilant voice. The speaker’s words were respectful, even admiring, and so was his tone. Yet Xar remained on his guard. He had not grown old in the Labyrinth by falling victim to seductive voices. And this speaker had already committed a grave error. He had somehow penetrated into the lord’s head, descried his thoughts. Xar had been talking beneath his breath. No one, standing at that distance from him, could have overheard. “You have the advantage of me, sir,” said Xar calmly.

“Come closer, that these aged eyes of mine, which are easily confused in the shadows, can see you.”

His eyesight was sharp, sharper than it had been in his youth, for now he knew what to look for. His hearing was excellent. The speaker didn’t need to know that, however. Let him think he faced a frail old man.

The speaker was not fooled. “Your aged eyes see clearer than most, I’ll wager, Lord. But even they can be blinded by affection, misplaced trust.” The speaker walked out of the forest, onto the path. He came to stand directly in front of the Lord of the Nexus, spread his hands to indicate he earned no weapon. Torchlight flared, a burning brand materialized in the speaker’s hands. He stood in its light, smiling with quiet confidence. Xar stared at the man, blinked. Doubt crept into his mind, increased his anger. “You look like a Patryn. One of my people,” he said, studying the man.

“Yet I don’t know you. What trick is this?” His voice hardened. “You had best speak quickly. The breath won’t be in your body long.”

“Truly, Lord, your reputation has not been exaggerated. No wonder Haplo admires you, even as he betrays you. I am not a Patryn, as you have surmised. I appear in this guise in your world in order to maintain secrecy. I can appear in my true form, if such is your pleasure, my lord Xar, but my true form is somewhat daunting. I deemed it best for you to decide if you wanted to reveal my presence to your people.”

“And what is your true form, then?” Xar demanded, ignoring, for the moment, the accusation regarding Haplo.

“Among the mensch, we are known as ‘dragon,’ my lord.” Xar’s eyes narrowed. “I have dealt with your species before and I see no reason why I should let you live any longer than I let them. Particularly as you stand in my homeland.”

The false Patryn smiled, shook his head. “Those whom you refer to by that appellation are not true dragons, merely distant cousins. [9] The serpent is, of course, lying to Xar. Since this evil has no true form of its own, it borrows any form that suits its needs. Much as the ape is said to be a distant cousin of the human. We are far more intelligent, far more powerful in magic.”

“All the more reason you should die...”

“All the more reason we should live, especially since we live only to serve you, Lord of the Patryns, Lord of the Nexus, and, shortly, Lord of the Four Worlds.”

“You would serve me, eh? You say ‘we’? How many of you are there?”

“Our numbers are enormous. They’ve never been counted.”

“Who created you?”

“You did, Patryn, long ago,” said the serpent, softly hissing.

“I see. And where have you been all this time?”

“I will tell you our story, Lord,” answered the serpent coolly, ignoring the sarcastic tone. “The Sartan feared us, feared our power, just as they feared you Patryns. The Sartan cast your people into prison, but—since we are of a different species—they determined to exterminate us. The Sartan lulled us into a false sense of security by pretending to make peace with our kind. When the Sundering came, we were caught completely off guard, defenseless. We barely escaped with our lives. To our grief, we were powerless to save your people, who had always been our friends and allies. We fled to one of the newly created worlds and hid there to nurse our wounds and regain our strength.

“It was our intent to seek out the Labyrinth and attempt to free your people. Together, we could rally the mensch, who were left dazed and helpless by their terrible ordeal, and we could defeat the Sartan. Unfortunately, the world in which we chose to live—Chelestra—was also the choice of the Sartan Council. The mighty Samah himself established his city, Surunan, populated it with thousands of enslaved mensch.

“He soon discovered us and our plans to overthrow his tyrannical rule. Samah vowed that we would never leave Chelestra alive. He closed and sealed Death’s Gate, dooming himself and the rest of the Sartan on other worlds to isolation—only for a short time, or so he thought. He meant to make quick work of us. But we proved stronger than he’d anticipated. We fought back, and, though many of our kind gave up their lives, we forced him to free the mensch and at length drove him to seek the safety of the Sartan stasis chamber.

“Before the Sartan abandoned their world, they had their revenge on us. Samah cut adrift the seasun that warms the water of Chelestra. We could not escape; the bitter chill of the ice surrounding this world of water overtook us Our body temperatures dropped, our blood grew cold and sluggish. It was all we could do to manage to return to our seamoon and take refuge inside its caverns. Ice locked us in, sent us into an enforced hibernation that lasted centuries. [10] Again, the serpent is relating its own version of the truth, which is considerably different from the story told by the Sartan, found in Serpent Mage , vol. 4 of The Death Gate Cycle . It is interesting to note, as does Haplo, in his somewhat bitter commentary on this section of Xar’s journal, that the serpents are adept at telling people exactly what they want to hear.

“At length, the seasun returned and brought with it warmth and renewed life for us. With it came a Sartan, one who is known as Serpent Mage, a powerful wizard who has been traveling Death’s Gate. He awoke the Sartan and freed them from their long sleep. But by now, you, Lord, and some of your people had also attained your freedom. We sensed it, far away as we were. We felt your hope shine on us and it was warmer than the sun. And then Haplo came to us and we bowed to him and pledged him our help to defeat the Sartan. Defeat Samah, the ancient enemy.”

The serpent’s voice dropped low. “We admired Haplo, trusted him. Victory over Samah was within our grasp. We intended to bring the Sartan leader to you, Lord, as proof of our devotion to your cause. Alas, Haplo betrayed us, betrayed you. Samah fled, as did the Serpent Mage—the Sartan responsible for poisoning Haplo’s mind. The two Sartan escaped, but not before Samah had been driven by his fear of us and his fear of you, great Xar, to open Death’s Gate!