The Chosen

They climbed the Rainbow Stair into the sky. The Labyrinth's roof stretched below as a vast scrubby plain merging its edge into the emeralds of the Yden. Beyond was the blinding blue of the Skymere. Humid air rose carrying hints of perfume that mixed with the wafting sweating of the bearers. The sun's heat was terrible. Carnelian was glad of the cowl of his robe.

The stair darned its way back and forth across the fissure. They kept to the red and amber bands so that if on one flight they were walking close to the fissure's carved wall, on the next they would be at the stair's edge where Carnelian would be able to see down the great fall to the ground. Parties of ammonites and Sinistrals passed them, returning to earth.

When the floor of the fissure looked the size of a shield, doorways began appearing among the carved men. The rock became riddled with windows, with stairs as steep as ladders. Hanging banners proclaimed the presence of Masters whose retainers were huddled up the steps. Tattooed faces turned to watch them pass as Jaspar's party picked its way through them.

They came to a long landing. On one side the Pillar's rock rose carved with avatars and balconies, all pierced with doors and windows. On the other a narrow pool ran alongside the rainbow paving. Here Jaspar had his chair put down and Carnelian, observing him climbing out, took the chance himself of stretching his legs.

The pool ruffled with sunlight. Its furthest edge was a bone of rock beyond which was the vast fall. Carnelian saw that Jaspar's people were hoisting chests up a stair to one of the apartments cut into the cliff. Two of them were feeding an Imago dragonfly banner over a balcony.

Carnelian went up to Jaspar. 'Are you planning to stay here?'

This is as good a halfway house as any to spend the night.'

The night?'

Jaspar's mask regarded Carnelian with contempt. He sighed. 'It is customary to spread one's journey up the stair over two days.'

'Why?'

'Because, my Lord, otherwise one can be afflicted by the sky sickness.' 'My Lord?'

Jaspar looked up and his mask mirrored the sheer cliff of the Pillar they still had to climb. 'Up there one breathes the sky. Even the Chosen must accustom themselves gradually to such purity.'

Carnelian gazed. The mountain was lodged like a thorn in the infinite depths of the heavens. 'One recovers from this sky sickness?'

'In time.'

'A day or two?'

Jaspar's hands made a gesture of exasperation. 'Sometimes three.'

'I am young, my Lord, I will take the hazard. I intend to see my father today.'

'It is unlikely they will let you see him.'

'Nevertheless, I will go, my Lord.'

Jaspar stood motionless, looking up the next flight of the stair. He shook his head. 'I will not come with you, my Lord.'

'I will gladly go alone.'

Jaspar gave a snort. 'Even the lowest Lord of the Lesser Chosen would not appear at the Skygate without an escort.'

'I was hoping my Lord would see fit to lend me some of his people.'

'You did, did you?'

'Currently, I am one of the Lords Imago. As such, I would not wish to bring such shame upon your House.'

Jaspar's mask regarded him.

'If I have to, I will go alone.'

'Oh, very well! If you will insist on this ludicrous course of action I will not stop you.' Jaspar clapped his hands and one of his guardsmen came instantly to throw himself before his Master. Jaspar arranged an escort, then turned to Carnelian. 'You will need a household.'

'For one day I can do without one.'

'One day, my Lord?'

'A household is being sent up from my coomb.'

'Indeed, my Lord, and you expect it to be up there with you so soon?' He made a fist. They will not.'

'But Jaspar, how can I use your people?'

'Aaagh, the delicate sensitivity shows itself again like the horns of a snail. My dear, I will give you blinded slaves who will suffer no punishment whatsoever should you appear before them unmasked. Does that assuage your scruples?'

Carnelian nodded.

'Well, let us give thanks that at least we have managed that.'

Carnelian sighed his relief as the Sinistrals carried him away from Jaspar. Behind him came dragonfly-faced guardsmen leading two blind slaves. Once they were out of sight of the pool, Carnelian settled into the gentle rhythm of his chair. They had to pass other halfway houses with their encampments of retainers. When at last they had left these behind, Carnelian was isolated in the rushing wind, watching the graven gods slip by or gazing out over vertiginous views of the crater.

The air grew progressively cooler until Carnelian was forced to pull his robe tightly round him for warmth. The crater had become a remote floor. Several times when the stair doubled back at a northern landing, he glimpsed the disc of the Plain of Thrones. However high they climbed, there always remained a vast mass of the Pillar looming above.

In a keening gale, they came to the Rainbow Stair's last step. Towering up behind it, the Skygate was an immense oblong of bronze studded with turtleshell sky glyphs. Carnelian's Sinistral bearers put him down and backed away to allow his Imago guardsmen to flank him as he climbed out of the chair.

Carnelian felt a surge of euphoria. Strangely, even the thought that his father's death might soon be confirmed did not darken his mood. More Sinistrals appeared wrapped in flapping cloaks of green and black. Collared with tarnished silver, eyes averted, their half-black faces looked out from horned casques.

Carnelian was about to shout to them over the wind when they opened a path in their midst leading to the gate. Bending to keep his cowl from blowing off, he walked along it trailing Jaspar's men. He struck the gate and waited. Glancing up he saw one of the sky glyphs hanging over him as large as a chariot. The Skygate gasped open and a thick perfumed exhalation streamed past him. He walked through. The ground shook as the gate closed behind him, cutting the wind off like a tongue with a knife.

A cavernous hall ran off to what seemed to be the edge of a forest. Quilted with a tang of lilies, the air was pulsing. Carnelian thought he was hearing his own blood, but when he pushed his hand to his chest he found his heart was beating faster. Concentrating, he thought perhaps it might be a drum playing somewhere in the faraway forest.

'Seraph Imago, you were not expected till the morrow.'

The voice made Carnelian start. He turned to see the silver face of an ammonite beside him. He could not think what to say.

'Which of the Seraphs Imago are you?'

For answer Carnelian removed Khrusos' ring and handed it to the ammonite, who examined it, then returned it.

'Will he that is to be Imago be joining you, Seraph?' Carnelian shook his head.

'Fortunately, chambers have been made ready to receive you, Seraph. If the Seraph would deign to follow.'

Carnelian reached out to stop the man turning away. 'I must see the Ruling Lord Suth.'

The ammonite's silver mask regarded him as if he were mad. ‘Seraph, even if you were Imago, it would take days to arrange an audience with the Regent.'

The Regent? He is well, then?'

The ammonite shrugged. ‘Seraph, I do not understand.'

The man hunched his shoulders, beginning to fall into the prostration.

'I assure you that he will want to see me.'

The ammonite made vague gestures with his hands but would not look up at him. 'Seraph, perhaps I should go and fetch one of my Masters?'

'No,' Carnelian said, feeling a stab of fear. The Wise must not be involved. Carnelian thought furiously. 'If I had something that I wished to give the Regent, could you make sure that he received it?'