A few dozen yards beyond the tents stood a large round hut, silvery and hard, in which the trainers kept the tools and armor the marchers would use on their journey. Few provisions had been made for comfort or privacy, though fresh produce was delivered daily from the meadows.
“Enjoy it while you can,” Pahtun remarked. “Out there, no more eating or drinking. You certainly can’t live off the land. Your armor will nourish you.”
Twelve wakes and twelve sleeps passed mostly in vigorous exercise—for stamina and strength—and walking around the dust-drifted channel floor, barely better than sulking in their tents or fidgeting and scrapping.
Pahtun seemed older than the other four. Khren thought Tall Ones could look as old as they wished; didn’t they all live forever? Nico doubted that. Since none of the breeds felt brave enough to ask, Tiadba assumed that Pahtun was the oldest because he moved with deliberation, spoke clearly, and used breed terms all could understand, as if he had dealt with their kind many times before. Despite the late and forcible recruiting, only three voiced any inclination to leave. One came from Grayne’s group: Perf, a gangling, clumsy breed in middle youth who was miserable away from his niche and let everyone know it.
During one sleep, Herza and Frinna tried to sneak off but were retrieved. They did not try again. After that, Perf didn’t even try.
CHAPTER 58
The Broken Tower
A warm shadow drifted over Jebrassy as he lay in the small room, so very like his sponsors’ niche in the Tiers. He felt as if he were being weighed and measured—in ways he could not understand, but deep and fundamental.
The exam was painless but he did not like it. “What’s happening?” he asked. No answer. Instead, the measurement seemed to change focus, moving up and out, and found him. His thinking self.
“What are you doing?”
The warm shadow expressed satisfaction. Then a voice sounded, so pleasant and familiar he was sure he’d heard it before—but couldn’t remember who it might be.
“Do you know what’s happened to you?”
“I’ve been brought to the Broken Tower.”
“Do you know why?”
“We’re too stupid and weak to be told such things.”
The voice became more immediate. “On the contrary, you’ve done well. You’re probably the strongest creatures in the Kalpa. Certainly the most important, now that my work is almost done.”
“You’re the Librarian?”
“Part of him—a part that has managed to keep some level of sanity over this half of eternity. Do you know about Eidolons?”
“No.”
“Well, no matter. The Librarian has become a Great Eidolon, which means he can no longer understand what it means to be small and insignificant. So he sets apart a few of his many selves, called ‘epitomes,’
and they fulfill that function. You’re talking to one now.”
“You’re not cold, like those blue things.”
“I am closer to the core of the Librarian. What you tell and show me, the Librarian knows immediately.”
“I’d like to see you.”
“Soon. But understand, anything you see will be an illusion, so even if you couldsee me, you wouldn’t strike out, despite your clenched fists. Like hitting a shadow, it would bring you no satisfaction.”
Jebrassy tried to relax his hands. “What’s going to happen?”
“In time, you will be set free to perform your duty. But for now we need to understand what you have become. You ring like a bell, young breed—a bell that no one in this time has tolled. Your vibrations are important. But for the moment, only half of you is in my presence in any way I can measure. The other half has to become manifest—events have to catch up. Until then, we will get acquainted, and I will teach you some useful things.”
“Where is Tiadba? Is she here, or somewhere else?”
“It interests me that you already know the answer to those questions. She is not here in the tower. She was not taken back to the Tiers. Where do you think she is?”
Jebrassy hated being played with, but he didknow. “She’s in the flood channel, with the others. The marchers. I need to go to her.”
“You would do her little good. As I said, events have to catch up. You must reach your full potential, young breed—and then you will be ready to join your friends.”
CHAPTER 59
The Flood Channel
Pahtun gathered the nine breeds on the channel floor, beneath the looming double arch, and stood before them, solemnly gazing at each in turn. The trainer was at least a third again as tall as Khren, their largest.
“You are chosen because your blood urges you outward,” he began, his voice deep and sad. “But whatever your enthusiasm, you will need help in your travels and a tempering to your urges. You are inexperienced, no doubt brave, but for now—foolish.”
Perf squirmed on the sand, as if afraid everyone would look at him.
“Out there, no warden will carry you gently home if you get hurt. Out there, more than pain—worse than death. That is what the Chaos promises. Beyond the border of the real lies the greatest challenge ever faced by human beings—and in that grouping, I include even the Great Eidolons on high, damn their arrogance.”
Pahtun looked around as if this might shock them, but these breeds knew nothing of Eidolons, great or small.
He waved his long-fingered hand, and Tiadba noticed that on the tip of his sixth finger—he had six fingers and an odd thumb, mounted in the center of his palm—there was a pink flower. Patient observation, as Pahtun spoke and waved this hand some more, rewarded her with the realization that this flower was in fact a cluster of six smaller fingers—perhaps used in delicate tasks. (Though Nico later suggested they helped the Tall Ones clean their ears.)
“No one can know what you will see and experience. While there are features that are relatively fixed and can be described, even partly explained, most of what is out there is great changewith no reasonor law.Accept it. The danger is constant. Your training will never suffice. But it will have to do, for between the will of those who will things,” he pointed over his head and back a bit, high above the three isles, “and your own blood instinct, planted in you and nurtured—bravery without sense,” he took a deep breath, “you aregoing. You aretraveling. You willmarch. You have no choice. Wehave no choice.”
Tiadba spoke aloud an odd word: “Amen.” The others responded likewise, then looked at each other, dismayed.
“So, let me introduce you to the tools that might keep body and soul together out in the Chaos.” Pahtun sounded a humming, whistling note, and they stood.
The escorts guided the breeds into the silvery dome-shed.
Glistening and strange, suits hung from the walls of the shed like the casings of farm pedes, though more colorful. Of a size and shape to fit each marcher, they were shades of orange, red, blue, green, and yellow—which seemed strange if one wished to hide from things that hunted.
“These are the best that the Shapers of the Kalpa have ever been able to manufacture. Here, the generators of the city protect us—and in the Chaos, your armor will protect you, up to a point. Within these shells, the suits sustain the laws and principles that allow life, and they carry personalities as well—as one would expect from the Shapers who made them.”
“What are Shapers?” Nico asked.
“Like me,” Pahtun said, “only different. I’ve never seen one.” He did not elaborate. The trainer introduced the breeds to their suits and suggested they try them on. Tiadba knew immediately which was hers. She stroked its outer shell—smooth, orange, and cool. The armor vibrated beneath her fingers and made a small, accepting noise.