The Paladin's Odyssey (The Windows of Heaven) (19 page)

A’Nu-Ahki clasped his son by the shoulder and laughed. “Don’t you understand what’s been happening?”

“Not really.”

“Avarnon-Set put our regiment out as wurm bait because Uzaaz’El want
s
us silenced. He couldn’t move against us
openly
because E’Yahavah shield
s
us and because it would have aroused Seti. The Archonate may hate us, but they
can’t easily avoid accusations
even
from
their own supporters of violating Iyared’s Oath. Not that the clans
care about
us
;
they just want to be
sure that any a
rchonic oaths made to them will still
also
have
mean
ing
.
Thus,
Avarnon-Set tried to engineer an accident of war.”

“An accident of war
; i
s that what all this is called?”

A’Nu-Ahki nodded
, as if he had not noticed the bitterness in his son’s
tone
. “Old Dog-face is afraid because I know the truth about how vulnerable the Watchers really are. He’s even more terrified of their subjugation to the Basilisk
,
which the Watchers still try to deny even to themselves. Moreover, they fear the power that E’Yahavah has given us over them. Ultimately they can’t touch us and they know it!”

U’Sumi tried to keep the rawness from his voice. “They touched us hard
enough to kill ‘Peti and Pahpo!
”

His father hung his head for a moment
,
but only for a moment. “Yes, that’s true. I did not mean to imply that they can’t hurt us deeply, only that they can’t defeat us ultimately.”

“What makes you so sure—if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“Be bold, Son. A
lways feel free to a
sk. It’s just that the little fibers of a large
r
tapestry are now be
ginning to
connect into a pattern. These Aztlan titans have rebelled against Uzaaz’El because the Watchers who spawned them are trying to overthrow Uzaaz’El’s sway in the West. Meanwhile, Samyaza is taking shape again in the East
,
gathering his forces for war. But he will be humbled by
the outworking of
his own delusion
…
”

U’Sumi
glared at his father
. What did Samyaza have to do with anything? Perhaps the old man’s hea
d wound had been worse
than
first
thought
; causing him
to rambl
e
,
and
mix old experiences from the Century War with the
ir
current
situation
.

“Pahp, it’s the titan Psydonu that has us captive. If he’s
that
afraid of us, it only makes sense that he’ll keep us under his control. More likely he’ll kill us to be rid of the threat, as Uzaaz’El tried.”

“Yes
,
Psydonu, quite so
; b
ut why does Psydonu care about us?”

U’Sumi had no answer to that.

A week later, the ship’s lookout sighted a tall spire on the western horizon. A tower on a promontory of land jutted out from the northernmost coast of the Aztlan subcontinent.

U’Sumi asked the Captain if that was their destination.

“Aye, lad
. T
hat be Thulae
—
the
Tower at the Top of the World. It’s supposed to sit on the polar axis, but I can tell you secretly that it doesn’t.”

“How do you know? We’ve been traveling mostly north.”

The Captain smiled. “The lodestone compass, it points away from the tower at a near twenty-four degree angle.
‘
Lodestone North
’
is about a week’s ocean voyage out thata-way.” He nodded toward the starboard bow. “Axial North is even beyond that by another couple days. There’s no land there. Don’t tell anyone I told you, though.”

U’Sumi promised, though he wondered why it should be a big deal.

The ironclad came to haven at late-night twilight, in the shadows of a bunkered harbor beneath the rocky pinnacle. The tower rose, a black silhouette against the magenta skies, dark lord over a land stained by blood and fire. Both harbor and spire actually sat on an island, connected to the end of the peninsula by a single bridge over a narrow channel. It all looked like one landmass, until U’Sumi saw the western light flickering up from beneath the bridge pylons.

Once the sailors secured the moorings,
the Captain disembarked
U’Sumi and his father onto a stone wharf
, where a
guard squad of towering
Cyclopes
met and escorted them to a dark chamber beneath the cliffs. The one-eyed ape-men seemed
to fear
nothing, least of all two chained prisoners. They certainly did not hesitate to shove them around along the way.

A

colossal throne rotated slowly on its circular stone dais, giving its occupant a complete panorama of his audience hall. The surrounding fountains showered joyous cascades of fresh spring water over enraptured pilgrims, all kneeling in deep trance-like worship
.

The throne’s occupant gazed over his adoring throng
, his mind freely wandering
.
Their spirit is powerful and funneled through me. The old
titans
fade. Technology alone was not the answer. I need
only
the Thickest Root
for
my tree
to
grow
to
shadow
the world
—
and
to
take
nourish
ment from
it
…

His amplified minstrels chanted at their set half-hour interval, “It is not the throne that rotates, but the world that revolves around the throne!”

The worshipers responded, “Forever and ever our hearts revolve around you,
O
self-created Psydonu, you who are your own father!”

The Titan waved and smiled as his pilgrims drifted lazily past. Women fainted or squealed like amorous
young
piglets in their spiritual ecstasy. Men presented swords ceremonially laced in their own blood. Psydonu returned their salutes and took another sip of his tonic.
How easy to bring them happiness!
A
rush of wholesome
satisfaction
welled up like the crystal fountains
from his deepest heart
.
Hope is m
y gift to the multitudes!

Psydonu leaned back and closed his eyes, while the lulling effect of the powerful opiate washed over his consciousness. He floated in a quiet pool of meditation
,
a butterfly on a flower adrift in a garden pond.

Such quietude had become an intense effort, enhanced by the tonic. The dreams troubled him again,
more,
because of how soon the son of Q’Enukki would arrive.
There could be no problem
—
would be no problem. Women don’t squeal like little piglets at the sight of just any
one
!

Treacherous darkness swirled the dissolving elements of corporeal reality into its roaring black vortex. Psydonu found himself again at the maelstrom’s periphery, sinking. The panic
grew
worse each time.

A Terrible One sat on a nearby bank, watching the Titan struggle.

“He’s coming,”
the Terrible One said with a terrible smile.
“The one who knows the truth about you is coming.”

The swirling darkness grew, pulling Psydonu into its engulfing pit.

“I
’m waiting
for you
at the other end.”
The Terrible One caressed a great padlock and chain.

Psydonu howled, as the sickening hot void sucked him in
…

The minstrels sang in deranged harmony,
“It is not the throne that rotates, but the world that revolves around the throne!”

Psydonu opened his eyes
; aware that somehow,
the T
hief had stolen more time from him
.
Another attack of the Basilisk!

Curious worshipers
clustered
at
the
flower
petal ramps
outside of
the rotating dais. Psydonu
composed himself
, smiled,
and
waved again.

“A vision, my flock!” he declared in his most theatrical seer’s voice.

Women clasped hands over their hearts, and squealed like excited piglets again.
For a split second, Psydonu actually saw jewel-studded snouts on their faces instead of noses. He stifled a
belly—
laugh.

The Titan
stood
, hands stretched
to
his
inquir
ing knot of
devotee
s. “I saw the spinning void at the center of the Earth! In it were the souls of those who doubt my word! Yet I swam through, unscathed, to the Golden Shore!”

The minstrels sang, “He swam unscathed to the golden shore!”

The star-gazers will spend years charting an interpretation for that one.
The Giant chuckled to himself.
Unfortunately, I don’t
have s
uch time.

He flipped his muscled arms to his followers in a grandiose farewell gesture. “I return now to the deeps of Underworld, to prepare a place of torment for the infidel hordes that fall by my Agents of Judgment!”

The minstrels echoed, “He returns to
Underworld
, a place of torment to prepare! Beware! Beware!”

Psydonu sat on his throne and touched a lever on the sculpted chair arm. The flower petal ramps folded to enclose his seat in a protective bud, as the dais lowered into the floor.
He heard t
he rumble of shooting flames from inside
his
sinking pod, along with ecstatic cheers from his fading worshipers.

When the throne
bud
finished its descent, one of the ramp petals opened to release its passenger.
Flickering reds filled the
capsule as Psydonu dismount
ed
. Once outside, he smiled with a tremendous sense of well-being.
All around
him in the hot darkness
,
like old friends
,
the tormented faces of Underworld’s damned
greeted him with plaintive groans and wails
.