He stood in the cave at the entrance to Deep Achenar, looking at a dead magician’s books, certain that within them were secrets that could change his life, while nearby lay the corpse of a dead demon. Weasel and the Barbarian stood close, and he felt certain that they would murder him if he did not acquiesce to their plan.
Here for the first time he got some sense of response from the Serpent Man. He felt an odd flicker of emotion that seemed a combination of hunger, lust and interest. Perhaps it was only his mind’s feeble effort to interpret the alien emotion.
His memories reeled on, covering his first encounter with Asea, and the battle with Uran Ultar in the caverns beneath the unholy mountain. Once more he sensed that odd hunger/interest along with fear/anger/horror. He was not exactly sure why but he had a feeling that the inhuman observer was familiar with the Spider God and both feared and hated it.
Once again he tried to resist the probing. He had slightly more of a sense of how it worked now, and he wrestled with the intruder within his mind, trying to hide some of his most shameful memories, to direct its interest elsewhere. He sensed a cold amusement at this, and he realised for the first time that the creature was actually aware of him as a sentient being like itself. An odd symbol began to take shape in his mind, containing within it the idea of greetings and something else he was not sure he understood.
Slowly, images swirled and began to take form in his psyche.
The Nerghul smashed against another wall and tried to regain its balance. The moving walkways seemed determined to carry it away from its prey, although this entire area stank of it. Filled with inhuman determination it pulled itself to its feet once more and moved against the flow. It was only a matter of time before it found what it was looking for.
The symbols in Rik’s mind changed, flickered, became images that he felt he could almost understand although there was something about them that was very alien, then they wavered into incomprehensibility again before coming back into clear, sharp focus.
As if in a waking dream, pictures appeared before his mind’s eye. He was within a scene, seen through eyes set differently from his own, assaulted by a welter of taste-scents that he could not understand at all, and which served only to confuse him. Then, as if the Serpent Man understood his difficulties, the taste-scents were toned down and finally vanished, and a greater emphasis was placed on sight and sound. He began to understand.
He saw the arrival of the Serpent Men on Gaeia. The Towers had not been built by sorcery. They had arrived intact, dropping from the sky surrounded by coruscating haloes of incandescent air, settling down in pre-chosen locations across the continents. Once they made landfall, the doors in their sides opened, and the Serpent Men emerged to stride the soil of their new world. They were from some far place among the stars, refugees fleeing a cosmic struggle in which they had been on the losing side. They set to work building a home for themselves in a new world.
He saw this Tower as it had been in ancient days, standing atop its cliff. There was no sign of Morven, only concentric rings of raised earth walls and enormous barrows in which larger Serpent Men lived. Workers built corrals and herded beasts. A priestly caste of beings, who looked like the ones in this crypt, offered up sacrifices to strange extra-dimensional entities. Roads stretched off to the distance, to other Towers. Great green needles of a similar substance to the Tower, flashed across the horizons, carrying the Serpent Men about their business.
He saw the first encounter of humans with the Serpent Men, and their recruitment as servants and slaves and pupils. He saw his ancestors worship the Serpents as gods. He felt a surge of resentment. The Serpent Men in their own way were as bad as the Terrarchs. They used his people as slaves, as things little better than cattle.
A sense of contradiction, of amusement, of bafflement, of frustration flowed over the link he shared with the Serpent Priest. Rik could almost smell them. His view zoomed in on other scenes, of Serpent Men trying to teach humans, showing them diagrams, how to make implements. It became clear to him that the Serpent Man was trying to say there was more than a master/slave relationship, that the Serpent Men had been trying to help the humans, to teach them.
Once the creature sensed with certainty that he had understood this, Rik’s point of view became general again. It flickered back and forth across the surface of the world, revealed as a vast sphere, showing other civilisations, other nations.
He saw that the Serpent Men were not alone in their new world. Other alien races swam in its seas, burrowed beneath its surface, rode through the air in weird living machines. There was a sense of enormous activity, of the meeting of many civilisations, of trade and rivalry and growing tension and hatred. He saw that the Serpent Men were not alone in trying to recruit humans to help them.
He saw the buried cities of the Spider Folk, where many castes of strange arachnid beings scuttled through the dark. He saw humans with living weapons grafted to their flesh, and not just weapons. Men were hooked into massive things like monstrous scorpions, living machines that augmented their strength and allowed them to lift huge burdens in the modified pincers.
Enormous squid like creatures swam through the ocean, the motherships of the Quan, disgorging their smaller children into the seas to harvest fish and the resources of the deep, building huge pearl-domes beneath the waves, monuments to their sinister gods. He saw the largest mothership of all, a kraken-like creature vast as an island, its outline visible in the depths of the ocean, as if he were viewing it from one of those flying ships he had witnessed earlier.
He became aware that he was seeing an actual memory of the being with whom he was linked, and he sensed approval as it noticed his understanding. Slowly a sense of wonder grew within him. He was seeing the world as it had been aeons before the Terrarchs came, through the eyes of one who had actually been there.
He saw tensions mount between the races as they fought for resources and for slaves. He saw skirmishes lead to battles and battles lead to wars. He saw great engines of sorcery unleashed and mighty weapons deployed. He saw the Towers of the Serpent Men besieged by the spawn of Uran Ultar. Great armies did battle. Moth-like flyers assaulted the flying needles of the Serpent Men. Monstrous acid spewing beasts attacked the fortresses. Great mushroom clouds rose over massive explosions that turned fertile land to deserts of glass, and churned the boiling seas. Death rained down from the skies. Clouds of poison gas depopulated cities.
The Elder Races fell into barbarism. The thinking caste of the Ultari Spider Folk succumbed to madness and disease. The Ocean Queens of the Quan went insane or devolved back to being barely sentient. The Serpent Men retreated within their Towers, their sorcerer priests taking to their sarcophagi, determined to sleep until the world was healed. He saw this Tower being sealed, and then attacked with those awesome ancient weapons. He felt the damage to the Tower as agony within his body. He knew that the systems meant to protect the sleeping Serpent Priests had been damaged, perhaps irrevocably.
Blankness. Static. A sense of emptiness, of sleep filled with strange slow dreams. Suddenly the Tower was brought back to life when Ilmarec entered it and found this vault. He awakened this last surviving Serpent Priest, promised it aid; Ilmarec would help it rejoin its brethren and return to the stars. When he discovered the Serpent Priest’s true weakness, Ilmarec used spells to enslave it.
He felt the Serpent Man’s fury as he was bound by sorcery to Ilmarec’s will after an epic battle of mind and souls. The Serpent Man was awake now, but bound within its coffin, still linked to the Tower in strange ways, but unable to affect it. It could not move now from its crypt but it gave Ilmarec its talisman of command, taught him its secrets.