Wessen laughed hollowly. "This isn't going to work, either."

  Blays planted the butt of the spear beside him. "Should I try your eyes? Or, I don't know, the roof of your mouth? I can't believe I'm saying this."

  "It isn't where you are striking me that won't work. It's that you are striking me. Even with your spear, you could cut at me for a thousand years and hurt me less than one bout of the chains does. Don't you see? It is hopeless. This is my fate forever."

  17

  "I don't understand," Dante said. "You don't think you can be killed? At all?"

  "Once, I'm sure such a weapon would have ended me," Wessen said. "But the process they used to turn me into this changed me. Eons of punishment have as well. I survive an apocalypse multiple times a month. Any weakness in my body was burned out of me tens of thousands of years ago."

  "But if you knew this, why did you have us even bother trying?"

  "I didn't know it. I feared it. Still, I let my hope overwhelm me."

  "But everything can be killed. Entities and gods—even entire worlds. Nothing is beyond the cycle of the nether. There must be some way to kill you."

  "There must. What I am telling you is that you don't possess it."

  Dante stood up so that he could pace around as he thought, but there wasn't room for any such thing in the onas. "We might not have that power. But Carvahal must. We know where he is right now. If you can open us another portal, we can go speak to him and bring him here."

  Wessen laughed, almost groaning. "No god would ever come to Pholos. Besides, if he'd had any interest in such a thing, he'd be here with you already."

  "You don't know that for sure. Once he learns we can't do this on our own, he might change his mind."

  "He won't. The others would cast him out for it. More likely they'd kill him outright."

  "But this can't be where it ends. There must be some other way. Maybe we could lure Nolost here. Surely he's strong enough to kill you."

  Wessen shrugged his non-chained shoulder. "Likely so."

  "No," Gladdic said. "Nothing will cause him to abandon his work on Rale until it is completed."

  "He would if he thought his work was about to be thwarted. Like when he came for the Emerald Titan."

  "His mind may be beyond any understanding, but he is not irrational. If we were to lure him here, he would surely discern our true intentions, and thwart us again, rather than blindly striking out at Wessen."

  "Shit odds are still a lot better than the ones we've got right now."

  "It would be our most desperate play yet. And that is truly saying something." Gladdic gazed at him steadily. Even coldly. "I wonder if the Eiden Rane would have had the power to end this god's life."

  "Ah yes. If only we'd kept the White Lich alive so we could somehow befriend him and convince him to solve a problem that never would have existed if only we'd never killed him but somehow convinced him not to kill all of us too."

  "I mean no such thing. What I am saying is that we may be able to wield his power to achieve what we cannot."

  "We can't exactly resurrect him. Even if you think you know how to do that, what are we going to do? Force him to do our bidding at spear-point?"

  Gladdic took a moment, gazing off into the distance. "It is all but impossible to make oneself a lich from out of nothing. But it is much more attainable if you possess the essence of a former lich."

  Dante stared at him, then groped for the pocket he kept it in, though he could already feel it hanging against him. "The lichstone? What about it?"

  "It should be possible to access its contents—and for one of us to become a lich himself."

  This made Dante do some sputtering. "You knew what this thing was the entire time? Why didn't you tell me?!"

  "I wished for all knowledge of the lich to die with the lich. You saw the threat they can pose to our very existence."

  "Yeah, and this whole time I've been afraid it might become the Eiden Rane again."

  "There was almost no possibility it could have caused us harm, and if it began to, we would likely have been able to stop it with little trouble. Meanwhile, there was no need to tell you of its potential, when that might some day tempt you to try to make use of it."

  "I've already experienced what it's like to be one of those things," Dante said evenly, "and I don't think I'd be tempted to do it again except in the gravest possible circumstances. Even then, I'd use it in the service of preventing calamity, not causing it."

  "That may well be your intention. But were you to ever take on the mantle of the lich yourself, you will surely find your intentions twisted into much darker places."

  "Yet taking on the 'mantle of the lich' appears to be exactly what you're suggesting we do now."

  "I would not have dared to at any other time. But it is the only road I see any last hope within." The old man met Dante's eye. "And it is why I must take on the mantle myself. Once we finish Olastar, if I should start to turn toward the darkness, you can destroy me as well."

  Dante's brows drew together. "How do you know all of this, anyway?"

  "When in the course of my studies I learned of the lich, he both fascinated and repulsed me. While the immense danger of such a being was obvious, I wondered if I could harness such a power for myself without losing myself to it. My quest for knowledge brought me to a wild hermit named Galan Lanya who lived deep in the swamps of Tanar Atain. He refused to tell me everything I wished to know, but what he did tell me was enough to convince me that I must restrict my research to matters no darker than the Andrac."

  "Whatever we do next is going to be the last effort we can take. Do you seriously believe we can do this?"

  "It is possible, yes. But we must return to Tanar Atain."

  "Can we get back in time to get back here before Nolost finishes his work?"

  "That would have been impossible until a few minutes ago. Now, however, Wessen can fashion us a doorway directly where we need to go."

  Dante rubbed his hand down his face. "I don't like it. We can't just run off on a wild goose chase when we're standing right in front of our objective."

  "What other choice is left to us?"

  "We should at least speak to Carvahal first."

  "I told you he won't help you," Wessen said.

  "How would you know what he'll do? You haven't seen him in tens of thousands of years." Dante grimaced. "Ah, sorry. But—"

  The god shrugged the one shoulder. "Don't apologize. It's true. It's your world. Do what you think you must."

  "Can you open more portals as easily as the one you made to send us home?"

  "I'm not without limit. I wouldn't want to open more than two or three per day. Even that might be enough to destabilize Pholos and trigger a cleansing—which could also cleanse it of my new portals."

  "Meaning we could be trapped on the other side." Dante squeezed his temples. He could feel time dribbling away from them like blood from a wound. "Open one to Carvahal. Whether we return with him or without, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

  He conjured up an image of the precise place in Yent they'd left from. Wessen stared hard into it, then closed his eyes and whispered to himself, frowning all the while. Whatever might be troubling him, he nonetheless was able to repeat the ritual he'd used to create the first portal, and a second one soon hung in the air a hundred feet from the original.

  "Oh," Blays called behind them as Kelen headed them toward it. "Anything you want us to pass along to him?"

  Wessen raised an eyebrow. Then shook his head.

  Kelen stopped the onas beside the yawning portal. Dante stood, positioned himself, and leaped. After all the practice he and Blays had gotten, he soared into the portal just as he meant to.

  He crossed into a tunnel where things acted normal again. Meaning he immediately fell to the ground, and hard. He crawled out of the way as Blays entered behind him and fell right where he'd been lying a second earlier. He didn't say anything of it to Blays and was rewarded for it when Gladdic fell on Blays a moment later.

  The four of them crossed to the portal's exit. As he stepped through it, it occurred to Dante there was a chance Carvahal wouldn't even be there: they'd been gone for days, after all, and he surely had celestial business to attend to.

  But not only had Wessen opened the portal not a hundred feet from the spot Dante had shown him, but both Carvahal and Maralda were standing right in front of it, watching them as they stepped forth into the jungle.

  "Lyle's balls," Blays said, clapping his hand to his nose. "I never realized how much smell there is here."

  After their almost odor-free journey through Olastar, the scent of sun on leaves and the dampness of the earth was nearly enough to make Dante fall over. He sneezed several times in a row.

  Carvahal looked them up and down in a blink, light flickering in his eyes. "You've failed?"

  "We made it to the very core of Olastar." Dante measured his next words. "And there we found Wessen."

  "Yes, I imagine he's the one who made that nice portal for you. Why haven't you killed him then?"

  "We couldn't. Even the Spear of Stars could only scratch him. We need you to come back with us, through that portal, and bring his misery to an end."

  "No," Carvahal said.

  "But if you don't help us, we'll all die!"

  "And that's quite unfortunate. But if that's the sad truth of things, I suggest you get as many of your people off Rale as you can before it comes to its now-inevitable conclusion."

  Dante could feel himself flushing. "But why not? This could all be over a minute from now."

  "Nine different reasons, starting with the fact I'd be killed for it."

  "We could take credit for it. We'd never mention that you were involved at all."

  "Yes, I'm sure your clever propaganda will allay their suspicions when you have no way of getting it to the Realm. They already know I've been abetting your little games. I'm the one who fought Taim with you, remember?"

  "But they don't even know we're doing any of this, do they? We can just—"

  Carvahal didn't step forward, but his presence suddenly loomed over Dante like the cliffs that had dropped a landslide on them on their way to find Kelen. "You need to appreciate how much I have already risked for you. Including those many things I have done to protect you from your enemies that you know nothing about. I might be infinite, but my patience is not."

  His presence and voice made Dante want to run right back through the portal, and it was a while before he could get himself to speak.

  "Let me know if you change your mind," he said thickly. "Until then, there might be one last thing we can try." He reached into his pocket and withdrew the heavy white lichstone. "Remember this?"

  "Yes. I also remember telling you I don't know how to put it to use."

  "As it turns out, Gladdic does."

  Carvahal swiveled his head to regard Gladdic. "How interesting that you didn't see fit to speak up about that!"

  "You were correct about the danger of it absorbing the one who tries to make use of it instead," Gladdic said. "I saw no use for the lichstone at the time, and wished that it could eventually be disposed of. But if Rale is about to be destroyed anyway, it no longer matters if we accidentally cause the Eiden Rane to be reborn. There would even be a cruel humor in reincarnating him just in time for him to witness the fact that all his machinations eventually led to him being annihilated alongside us."

  "Well, should that happen, I suppose I'll have to do the laughing for you."

  "But do you think it could work?" Dante said.

  "It sounds like you should be asking your well-informed friend, not me."

  "I mean if one of us takes on the power of the lich, would that be enough to kill Wessen?"

  Carvahal folded his arms and rocked on his heels. "By itself, maybe not. Alongside the Spear of Stars, maybe so."

  "That's the best you can do?"

  "I never fought the lich. I can only guess what he was capable of. Or what you'll be capable of if you're able to take on his aspect. Then there's the matter of what Wessen has become after all this time. That's an awful lot of unknowns, isn't it?"

  "A lot more than I'd like," Dante muttered.

  "Well, I'm not hearing any alternatives. Aside from the request you made of me, and I think I've made my stance on that matter quite clear. So it sounds like you ought to try."

  "That's what I was afraid of. We'd better go get to it, then."

  "One more question first. How long do you expect all of this to take?"

  Gladdic tipped his head to the side. "If all goes fair, it could be as little as a day."

  "And if all goes foul?"

  "The swamps of Tanar Atain are a tangled maze. If one finds oneself lost in them, there is no limit to how long it can take to get back out."

  "See that it takes no more than nine days."

  "Why, ah, that specific?" Blays said.

  Carvahal gave them each a look. "Because in a little less than ten days, Rale will cease to exist."

  "You're sure of that?" Dante said. "How do you know?"

  "How do you think?"

  "Divine revelation?"

  "With a man of such unparalleled genius leading you, I am sure your mission will be a smashing success."

  Dante looked to Maralda, who hadn't said a word since greeting them. "I don't suppose you'd help us kill Wessen?"

  She shook her head sadly. "It would be a death sentence for me as well. I have already gotten myself far more involved in the affairs of men and gods than I ever again wanted to."

  "I understand," Dante said, though understanding did little to dampen the flame of anger at their refusal to do something that would be so simple for them. "I'm getting tired of saying goodbye. The next time we see you, I dearly hope it's to tell you that it's over."

  "Good luck," Carvahal said. Maralda waved.

  The four of them headed back to the portal. Jogging down the starry tunnel on the other side, the reality of it kicked Dante in the side of the head. Ten days. He supposed it was nice to know precisely how long they had left instead of the possibility of being blindsided by extinction at any moment, but it was intensely morbid to know exactly when it would all come to a stop. It was so short, too. Just ten days. Every hour that went by was one of just 240 they had left to spend. On the other hand, they had close to 15,000 minutes left at their disposal, and that at least felt like enough to do something with.

  They spent the first of those minutes crossing to the other side of the portal.

  Entering the doorway there was a bit of a risk—if the onas had moved, or somehow been destroyed in their brief absence, they might be totally doomed—but when Dante gave a light leap through the portal, he emerged to find himself skimming directly toward the vessel. He grabbed hold of it and pulled himself aboard, then helped catch the others as they followed.

  Across from them, Wessen hung from his chains, sweat beaded on his brow. He'd been racked again.

  "Well?" he said without looking up.

  "Carvahal won't help us," Dante said.

  "I told you he wouldn't."

  "Does it make you happy to be right?"

  "I haven't known what happy is for a longer length of time than you can hold in your head."

  "Well, as productive as this conversation is," Blays said, "that means we need a portal to Tanar Atain. When you've recovered, of course, sir."

  "Oh," Kelen said.

  He was staring down at something in the distance that didn't make any sense to Dante's eyes. It looked as though a pen the size of a tree had been used to scribble across the open air.

  "That's it, isn't it?" Dante said. "The debris. That's bigger than anything we saw on the way here."

  "More will follow," Kelen said. "Hacking at the chains, opening new portals—we've accelerated the next cycle."

  "Then it's a good thing we won't be here for the next few days."

  "You don't understand. When the cleansing comes, it's not in the form of a lightning bolt, some sudden surge that's finished before you know what's happening. It goes on for hours. Sometimes it can even last for days."

  "Meaning that even if we succeed in Tanar Atain…"

  "We might find Pholos suffering a cleanse, and inaccessible to us until the storm ebbs."

  "How will we know that it's happening from outside?"

  "We won't." Kelen looked him in the eye. "We'd have to send someone in to check."

  Dante had been keeping one eye on Wessen to make sure he wasn't about to cross over into dull-eyed madness, but when at last the god raised his head, his eyes were clear and bright.

  "Show me where you would go," he said.

  "That would require Gladdic to tell me where we're going," Dante said.

  "You are familiar with it," Gladdic said. "We are going to the Riya Lase."

  "That place?" Blays said. "It always creeped me the hell out."

  Dante began to draw the location in the air between them and the god. "Why the Riya Lase?"

  "To take on the power of the lich, we must locate the source where he first obtained it, and expose the stone to the light there," Gladdic said. "But…we face a problem."

  "Don't tell me the problem is you don't know where the source is."

  "I do not know where the source is."

  Dante jerked his head away from his work. "Gladdic, how in the hell do you expect us to find it when—"

  Gladdic waved his hand. "The Riya Lase is a place of great and ancient power. And the White Lich was imprisoned there for many years. I believe we will find something there that can direct us toward the source of his creation."

  "And if we don't?"

  "Then there are other places we might try instead."

  "Places that will probably take us days to get to and—"

  "Then we will return here and request that Wessen build us another portal!" The old man's face had gone red, his eyes flashing with an anger Dante had rarely seen since they had stopped trying to kill each other and allied against the Eiden Rane instead. "What is the point of such doubt and fear at a time like right now? You are right. There is no certainly we will find what we seek at the Riya Lase. Or anywhere else in those foul swamps before our short time expires. In my own heart, I do not believe that we will. Even if it is still possible to uncover a mystery so old, its knowledge so eroded by time, it feels as though that can only be the work of months, if not years. Not a few days."

 

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