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Of course, as I had betrayed Alexiun, so Vann betrayed me. I had hoped it would not come to pass, but I cannot say I was surprised. I did not fight him, though. By the time I knew I had been betrayed, it was too late for that.

"I have finished speaking to the consuls," he told me. "They have opened the portals to you. The citadel will take you where you wish to be. You will have your audience. All you have to do is step through."

I nodded, and looked into his eyes, and saw both truth and deception at once, and knew not which to believe.

"You will come with me?"

"I cannot."

"You have already received your reward?"

"Yes. And the Emperor's face is not for the likes of me to see."

Had I known more of the Bone Empire, I would have understood that warning. I would have entered the portal, and thought to be outside, and run, as far from the citadel as I could be. But I knew nothing of the rituals of the Emperor's mask. There would be treachery of some sort, I thought, and I would be ready for it. My spells racked, my swords sharp and in my hand.

I stepped through...

...into darkness.

No light. Nothing to see by at all. Not even the faintest gleam. No sound. The air lay still and warm around me, devoid of life and movement, stifling and close, as if I had emerged into a place no larger than a coffin. Yet, when I reached out with my hands, I felt no surface.

I fell to my knees, staggering and disorientated, and felt at the floor. Hard and smooth, and a little warm to the touch.

"Hello!" I cried, and the air seemed to suck the sound away. I heard no echo.

A spell, then, to see by. But, to my horror, there was no magic. The spell did not even sputter and die. It simply failed to exist.

"No one will hear you," came a whisper.

"Who is that? Who are you?"

No reply.

"Answer!"

The still air mocked my voice.

"I am Skyrie Velutiun! I seek an audience with the Emperor of Bone."

This drew a low laugh, which seemed to come from all directions at once, from all sides, from above, even from the floor.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Bone Emperor. Why do you seek an audience?"

"I seek the Well of Shadow."

Silence.

"Do you hear! I seek the Well of Shadow!"

"I remember."

I rose to my feet, and stood, unsteady, unsure of quite how to stand straight in such abject darkness.

"Why is there no light?"

"There is no light because this is a temple of death, and light has no place in it."

Another peal of laughter floated about me, a high-pitched cackling. "Pay no attention to this one, Skyrie Velutiun. Talk to me. I can answer all of your questions."

"And who are you?"

"I am the Bone Emperor."

"You cannot both be the Emperor."

"Oh, but we can."

"We are echoes," said the first voice. "We are memories. Consigned here for all eternity."

"There is no Bone Emperor, Skyrie," said a third voice.

"There is!" said a fourth.

"It is I!" said another, and suddenly the air was awash with voices, crying "I am! It is me! I am the Bone Emperor!" I fell to my knees and clutched my ears against the madness of the voices around me. And then, gradually, I became aware of a presence, all around me, a vast, all-powerful thing, pushing the voices away, shooing them into oblivion.

"You are the Emperor?" I whispered, in wonder.

"We are all the Emperor. I am the last and future."

"I don't understand."

"You are beyond the world of flesh and earth. We are spirits. We... They are the spirits of the Emperor's who once ruled. Consigned here for eternity. As punishment for their crimes."

"Their crimes? What crimes? But you are the Emperor now, yes?"

"There is no Emperor. I am the Emperor that will be."

Confusion danced in circles through my head. "I do not understand you."

"It matters not. You have been sent here to die. Forever. To here, where your spirit cannot escape to be reborn in new flesh. Where you will not be reborn to seek revenge on those who have done this to you."

I sat down on the black ground. "What of Alexiun and Lostra?"

"Other fates. I cannot remember. It matters not."

"It matter to me. I did not sacrifice the Alexiun to die here. Once I am outside, I will save him from death."

"I know. But you will have to wait a while."

"I am not inclined to."

The voice almost seemed to shrug. "It is irrelevant. Our magic doesn't work here. The Emerald Sorcerer's power would escape from here, but you had no pictures. So we waited, for days and weeks, until they threw the next fool in here to die, and as they did, we jumped back through the portal. They weren't ready for us. They thought we'd be dead, and they were right, we should have been so. But we are cursed, remember."

The voice spoke almost as though it was I and I were it, and we were one. "Is this how I will escape? How do you know?"

"I remember."

"Who are you?"

I could the amusement in its tones. "I am you, Skyrie. A part of you, that you will leave here when you next return, and make yourself their Emperor."

I did not want to believe that voice. Yet it is true. It is a part of me. I remember this conversation twice. And, though I fought and bucked and twisted to escape, the world I found myself in steadfastly refused to yield to my sorcery. And so it came to pass as my future self had shown it. Weeks had gone by, my body racked with pain from hunger and thirst, yet living on. Two men in pristine white robes - imperial couriers, I later learned - with a token guard, dragging a man already half dead. They had taken nothing from me before casting me into this place. Weak as I was, I slew the guards and one of the white-robed men, returned with the other, through the portal and into the Infinite Citadel, then through another and at last to the outside. And then I slew him too. I was free, at last.

The content of this page is © copyright Stephen Deas 2001 and is used here with permission.
It may not be reproduced in any form whatsoever without the permission of the author.