“That is an ill sight,” Antomine said, considering their destination through the observation window as the Endeavor approached the city.
The towers of Ukaresh shone in the distance, the east’s dark mirror to Beacon. No central light marked the city, nor was there a wall like those that surrounded human settlements to keep out the dark. The subdued, tenebrous radiance that marked every street and building blended with the colors and shapes of the east, so that Ukaresh seemed to simply grow from the landscape rather than being placed in defiance of it. The borders of the city were blurry and ambiguous, overgrowing the tangled trees and mushrooms and being overgrown in turn.
“The purpose of civilization is to create something distinct from the savagery of nature. Mingling it with untamed lands results in madness — or is the result of it.” Antomine scowled at the pale, shimmering colors of the city, illuminating a jumble of different styles crammed together. Squat, rounded myceliplank huts lay adjacent to dwellings made of slanted stone walls, both of which rose over what seemed to be tangled pits of black wire that glowed from within. Some things were clearly human, others clearly not, and many rode the line of ambiguity. Even as they watched, one particular lumpen building raised itself up on stilts like some enormous creature, ambling around the perimeter until it set itself down atop a mound of completely dissimilar style.
“I would advise being somewhat more polite to those who actually live there,” Jonathan said dryly. “The people of the east hold we of the west in no better regard, and there will be worries enough without starting an altercation.”
“He’s right though,” Eleanor said, staring at the city. “It’s a strange sight.”
“No stranger than any other city we’ve seen,” Jonathan remarked. “Less than some, even. This one at least has people we can converse with, and goods we can purchase. You may find it better to spend some of your gold here rather than wait to return to Beacon.”
“Maybe,” Eleanor said, eyeing the panoply of buildings doubtfully. “I’m not sure how much I trust it.”
“A wise attitude,” Jonathan acknowledged. “Ukaresh is a place that recognizes few laws save that of power. It pays to be cautious.”
Antomine’s face twisted in something that was almost a sneer, but he didn’t cast any more aspersions on their destination. The Endeavor had little company, as Ukaresh lacked the air traffic of the cities of men. The weather of the east was too hazardous for such ventures without the sorts of protections Jonathan had ensured. Flying over, there were no obvious spots to tether, at least until Jonathan directed Montgomery to a particular building, one that he had used on his previous travels.
“I’ll negotiate the payment for our berth,” Jonathan told Montgomery, hefting the case that he’d retrieved from one of the crates in his cabin. The inhabitants of Ukaresh had odd tastes and appetites, some objectionable and some not, and so he’d obtained a few sundries in Beacon. Assuming the proprietor of the lodging had not changed, the insect collection he’d brought along would be more than adequate recompense for the Endeavor’s place and safety. “You can tie off on those,” he added, pointing out the jutting crossbeams of some dark wood that hung out over some kind of rooftop pavilion.
“Aye,” Montgomery said, and began passing orders. “I don’t think I’ll be giving leave on this one,” he added, staring out one of the replaced windows of the bridge at all the variety of not-quite-human forms on the streets below. There hadn’t been enough stock to fully replace everything on the bridge, so the edges were patchworks of salvaged panes held in place with hastily-machined frames. “Everything about this city makes me uneasy.”
“Probably for the best,” Jonathan agreed, before descending to the cargo deck in preparation for tethering. Eleanor and Antomine were there as well, the latter with only one guard. It seemed that the damaged Lux Guard was beyond the inquisitor’s abilities to repair after all.
“Are you certain you wish to leave the ship?” Jonathan asked Antomine, not actually interested in the answer but hoping to prompt a recusal on Antomine’s part. The inquisitor’s presence might create issues with those that called Ukaresh home. “This is not a place that is friendly to those of your persuasion.”
“I am an inquisitor, the hand of the Illuminated King in such distant lands,” Antomine said, touching the medallion hanging around his neck. “He would certainly want to know the disposition of a place such as this.”
“Very well,” Jonathan said, having no wish to argue with that sort of motivation. He saw no reason to provide any special warnings beyond that; they could see as well as he that this was an alien place with alien people. Raw and savage, to the sensibilities of someone raised in Beacon.
The airmen hurried back inside after tying off the lines, more disturbed by the strangeness of Ukaresh’s atmosphere than they were by the dead places the Endeavor had visited before. Jonathan hooked his feet into the descent line and let himself be lowered to the pavilion, with Antomine and the Lux Guard after. As Eleanor’s maids were on their way down, a small oval door in the wall of the uppermost story opened, the proprietor stepping out to meet them.
Jonathan referred to him as a man for lack of a better term, because while his general shape was human, the details were profoundly different. Rippling cords of muscle moved under skin that looked black and slick as a beetle’s carapace, and his head had multiple gleaming, lidless eyes and a pair of mandibles that covered his mouth. Eleanor made a muffled noise of disgust and Antomine bristled with disapproval, but didn’t actually say anything as the man approach.
“Mister Jonathan!” The words came out heavily accented but understandable as the man flung his arms wide in welcome. “You have returned! I did not think I would see your face here again.”
“I did find a reason to come east again, Mister Crispin.” Jonathan found the man’s effusive friendliness rather off-putting, and to prevent any untoward contact he presented the case with the insect collection instead. “I do not expect us to stay overly long, but I assume this will suffice for payment.”
“Oh, my!” Crispen grabbed the case with a sudden jerk, lifting it up to shining black eyes. He lifted the lid and took a deep breath, mandibles trembling. “What a delectable selection. Yes, yes, this will do, Mister Jonathan. Feel free to keep your ship here as long as you like.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t his ship, but Jonathan didn’t bother to correct Crispin, instead waving up at the bridge lights on the Endeavor. He turned to his companions, finding most of them exhibiting – or suppressing – various degrees of disgust at the lubricious noises Crispin was making over the collection of dead insects, and beckoned for them to follow. “Keep your weapons close and ready. Ones such as we will not fit in here.”
“Are they all…” Eleanor started in an undertone, and jerked her head at Crispin’s receding back.
“No,” Jonathan said shortly. “Many are far stranger.”
The inside of Crispin’s inn was lit with a murky light that seemed to flow like currents between a series of spheres embedded in the ceiling and walls, revealing a clientele that looked more bestial than human. Long scaled things halfway between snake and centipede, puffing on hookahs of varicolored smoke; some looming shadow that seemed to be composed more of eyes than anything else; tiny winged creatures with iridescent feathers tittering and laughing as they lounged in the flowing light, bobbing upon it as if it were water.
Jonathan ignored it all, for he had no desire to become entangled with the strange types that populated Ukaresh. They were all of them predators, and any encounters would be fraught and tense. The tapping of his cane on the floor took on a harsh and ominous cast, the inevitability of a ticking clock and a warning to any that might be eyeing their group that humans were far from helpless. He led the way past outsized and contorted furniture and down a ramp that served in place of stairs, where the plaster wall of the building was decorated by an indecipherable mural wrought in clashing colors in disturbing form.
“I can feel the eyes on us,” Eleanor muttered, eyes narrowed and back straight as she refused to show any weakness.
“It is the nature of things here. You can only relax when you are guaranteed safety by someone sufficiently powerful. Though, that is true everywhere, and only naked here.” Jonathan stopped at the bottom of the stairs, taking a moment to decipher the arcane layout, a dusky jumble of furniture and people – and some things that might be either – before leading his party to the door.
Outside of Crispin’s inn the lighting was scarcely better, cast as it was from a haphazard assemblage of devices and flames. Illumination in all shades of the spectrum revealed a crowded street of forms both monstrous and miniscule going about their own strange business. Jonathan attempted to decipher the street signs, and Antomine stepped up beside him, squinting out from beneath his broad-brimmed hat.
“What, precisely, are we looking for? I mislike taking any help or succor from a place like this.”
“You may not like it, but some things are only available here.” He kept it vague deliberately, as either Antomine or Eleanor may have balked if he revealed things too early. “There are certain materials and writings that could not possibly be smuggled into Beacon.”
“Indeed, I would not pass much of what we’ve seen thus far,” Antomine said grimly. “This place is a congregation of all that we protect humanity from. I would be remiss if I did not question—”
Antomine’s voice continued, but was stripped of meaning, leaving only empty noise. The symbology on walls and posts blurred and faded. Language itself fled from everyone nearby as words themselves failed.
A tremor went through the street, buildings trembling as from the footsteps of some great titan, each one louder and closer. Jonathan came to an abrupt halt, taking a deep breath as the landscape shook. Eleanor tried to ask something but her lips moved without meaning, and there was nothing but noise that drowned under the force of the approaching presence. Other inhabitants fled, darting down other streets and into buildings, but Jonathan did not, for he was familiar with the phenomenon and knew it was there for them.
The ground tore itself apart, a great long crack reaching from the shrouded distance and growing toward them with each heavy footstep. The walls of the buildings nearby shuddered, windows shattering and fractures appearing in stone, wood, and steel alike. The chasm came to a halt just in front of them, and for a fraction of a moment there was silence. Then, She stood in front of them.
Eyes blazed golden; commanding, mesmerizing, amused. Dark hair flowed and billowed, a cloak of gem-studded sky. Skin gleamed marble, flawless and imperishable, with forms and features that would consume a man’s dreams until his dying day. Jewels adorned that perfect figure, each one of a size and clarity as to be a royal treasure, serving to accent rather than cover the hard muscle and soft curves; nakedness as an armor for a figure that seemed far greater than it was. As if a giant stood before them in the body of a woman. Lips the color of fresh blood parted to reveal pristine white teeth, each one slightly pointed.
“My Jonathan,” she said, voice a throaty purr, laden with promises both carnal and lethal. She spoke a tongue not of man or beast, but of the primordial fires as they birthed creation. “You bring something to my city that should not be. Even for Ukaresh, some things are too old and extraordinary to be allowed.” Her eyes shifted, looking at Antomine with the faintest curl of a lip in a sneer. “Others are simply unwelcome.”
“My lady,” Jonathan said carefully. For all that men could – and had – fought to the death simply to be in her presence, this was not a reunion he had been eagerly awaiting. “We are merely passing through to further east. I don’t bring any business that should upset your city.”
“Ah, but you have already upset it,” she said, ground trembling as she stepped forward and showing she was a head taller than Jonathan, looking down as she extended a hand with razor-sharp nails toward Jonathan’s cheek, then jerked her hand away just before she touched. “Such a terrible light,” she said, almost dreamily, then turned her regard to Eleanor. The woman was a head taller than Eleanor, too — she was always a head taller than anyone, no matter who they were. “Perhaps I can forgive you for bringing such an interesting morsel with you.”
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Eleanor swallowed visibly under the full and terrible attention of the woman, whose every motion made the city shudder around them. For just an instant there was a sense of something great and dark and abyssal reflected beneath Eleanor, and then quailing away from the earth-shaking titan above. The woman used one finger to tilt Eleanor’s head up, inspecting her like a butcher looking at a cut of meat.
“Introduce us,” she said, not as a request.
“Eleanor McAvey; Inquisitor Antomine,” Jonathan said shortly, leaving aside the Lux Guard and the maids, whom he knew were beneath the woman’s notice. “Eleanor, Antomine, this is the unquestioned ruler of Ukaresh, She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, the immortal Ukari.”
“Immortal?” Antomine asked skeptically, finding his voice at last.
“Yes, little candle-man,” Ukari purred, letting Eleanor go and walking three steps away them. On the first step, the walls of the buildings to either side slid apart, rearranging themselves about the group. On the second step, the chasm in the street ripped itself from the ground and set itself in the ceiling as the main beam of a great hall. On the third, a throne of gold and ivory twisted itself into being, and suddenly they were standing in a bright and opulent petitioner’s hall, with monstrous subjects standing or squatting or hovering as they waited for an audience with She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed.
A negligent wave was enough to scatter the assorted subjects, those who knew the moods of She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed unwilling to risk any displeasure. Ukari reclined on her throne, illuminated by her own light and nothing else, regarding the group of humans. The Lux-Guard stood unmoving at Antomine’s back, while Sara and Marie had fallen deep into their maid personas, standing demure and silent behind Eleanor in hopes of escaping the attention of such a monster.
“I can hardly see what drives you,” Ukari said one forefinger tapping the arm of her throne. “Dare you speak it?”
“There is no mystery,” Jonathan said, having no reason to conceal it even if he had dared to. “I have found sunlight.” In Beacon none had found it believable, let along compelling, but She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed stared at him for a long time before inclining her head to show a slight bit of respect.
“If that is what drives you,” she said, her voice carrying a dozen warnings without quite speaking any of them. “But why the little candle-man? If his candle-master sent him to find my secrets then they have both very sorely miscalculated.” For a moment it was if the throne room were haunted by some voracious lamia, coiled about them with teeth bared wide to expose its devouring hunger.
“The Illuminated King has no interest in adopting that which dwells in the dark,” Antomine said, equally brave and foolhardy. He peered out at She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed from beneath the broad brim of his inquisitor’s hat, eyes burning white. “There is obviously power in what you have, but none of it is a power we would want.”
“Of course not.” Ukari laughed darkly, and the bright lights in their wall sconces guttered and dimmed. “He prefers to cower behind walls, clinging to illusions and desperate to deny the reality of the dark all around him.”
“There is no illusion in the truth of humanity,” Antomine said, his hand rising to touch the inquisitor’s symbol hanging around his neck. “Humans don’t bend to the dark; we bend it to suit us. Walls put borders on the darkness, and allow us to walk free and without worry.”
“An imagined safety, one that does humanity no favors,” Ukari replied, confident, amused, utterly unmoved by Antomine’s temerity. She seemed to welcome the inquisitor’s disagreement; a lucky thing, for had he incited her displeasure instead, he would have not continued existing. “Without the fight, humans are weak and decadent, beliefs and morals based on some fantasy of a world as it should be.”
“Oh, there is a fight, but it is not the human way to seek out and master the darkness on its own terms, to become its king — or Queen,” he added, inclining his head briefly to Ukari. “We master ourselves to conquer the dark, forcing it to our terms. Our fight is one of spirit over sword, to become a light against the dark. Becoming the monster in the darkness is an abandonment of all that makes us what we are.”
“A pretty little story,” Ukari said with a rich, throaty chuckle. “Yet you still have come out here for — what, sunlight? Do you think it is any less part of what you call the darkness, simply because of its name? No doubt your candle-master wishes to find a greater light to make his own, trying to find what I already have — the secrets of eternity.”
“I am only here to find out what the truth of it is, regardless of what that may be.” Antomine spoke stiffly, though Jonathan very much doubted he would dare to lie. For himself, Jonathan tended more toward Ukari’s view on things, finding himself dismissive of those who lived within Beacon’s walls — but he would also admit he was hardly an exemplar of humankind.
“Perhaps you even believe that, but in the end even your candle-master needs to embrace what you find out here to survive.” Ukari waved a hand dismissively, then sharpened her eyes and her tone. “But as for you, I do not welcome deluded deceivers who hold no regard for the gifts of me and mine. Well, Jonathan? What should I do with this little candle-man?”
Jonathan found it quite tempting to ask Ukari simply to remove him. The crew could hardly hold Jonathan responsible for the actions of a capricious queen, and Eleanor was not likely to worry overmuch about Antomine’s fate. Yet the inquisitor had been mostly a help, and might still have some role to play with his peculiar talents. If it were necessary, Jonathan was entirely confident of his ability to remove Antomine himself.
“I believe he will still be useful in the future,” Jonathan told her, tapping his forefinger on the handle of his cane and ignoring Antomine’s look. “If it please you, I would like him returned to the ship. I’m certain he has no further interest in Ukaresh.” Antomine snorted, but quietly, and added no actual words. Ukari made a negligent gesture and Antomine vanished, along with his Lux Guard.
“Now, your other friend is far more interesting,” said She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, leaning forward ever so slightly to look at Eleanor, whose eyes went wide. Jonathan had some idea of what she was feeling, the sensation of a bare-fanged predator panting on one’s neck. He even had some sympathy, but not much — this was simply the nature of the east. “I do adore a woman who is not afraid to let shadowed secrets into her heart.”
“Thank you? Your Highness?” Eleanor sounded uncertain, as well she should be. Ukari’s attention was a precarious thing.
“So why have you decided to accompany this dangerous man so far from your home?”
“Freedom,” Eleanor replied promptly, stiffening her spine. “When I go back I want to be able to spit in their faces, throw away my debts, and go my own way on my own terms.”
“Oh, I like you,” Ukari said, smile widening to show teeth. Jonathan took a moment to think; he had intended to guide Eleanor in a certain way regardless, but with She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed in a pleasant mood, he could perhaps shortcut several steps.
“My lady, I had intended to show Eleanor to the Black Garden,” Jonathan said, breaking into Ukari’s scrutiny. She turned the smile his way, along with the full force of all the bloody glee behind it.
“So formal for a lover,” she scolded him. “You used to call me other things.”
“Ukari,” he said, conceding at least that much, though he would not have dared to use her name if she hadn’t invited it. “I would hesitate to ask a favor, but if there is any way I could negotiate access—”
“I am curious myself how she would take it,” Ukari said, while Eleanor seemed to be struggling with her previous statement, glancing between Jonathan and Ukari in disbelief.
“If that can be done quickly, we can be out of your city in short order,” Jonathan said, offering her a bow. “And stir up as little trouble as possible.”
“I welcome the trouble.” Ukari laughed, and extended a hand toward Eleanor, who found herself far closer to the throne of bone and gold than she had been a moment before. “Well, morsel? Do you dare to see what the Garden has to show you?”
“I—” Eleanor licked her lips, entranced by the deadly magnetism of She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed. “What is the Black Garden?”
“A place that only women can go,” Ukari said, which was not something Jonathan would have chosen as a selling point, but he would never have the insight into people that the ruler of Ukaresh did. Something about that, whether it was words or intonation or something unspoken that passed between the two of them seemed to sell Eleanor on the idea, and she reached out to take Ukari’s hand.
The two of them vanished in an odd blurring of vision, as if seen through an increasingly distorted lens. The throne room seemed to relax, sagging back into place after the strain of bearing the presence of She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed. Only Jonathan and Eleanor’s maids were left in the great opulent room, amongst the treasures and tapestries that had been unnoticeable in Ukari’s presence.
“Sir?” Marie spoke, and Jonathan turned to regard the pair. “Where exactly are we?”
“The center of the city,” he said, and pointed his cane to the far door, a massive arch framed with shimmering gems the size of carriages dangling on heavy iron chains. “I will accompany you back to the ship,” he told them, as Eleanor would be cross with him if something happened to them. Considering his plans for her, she would already be in a rather poor mood, and he didn’t want to compound that. “And we should make haste, before the usual audience returns.”
Neither Sarah nor Marie needed any further urging to hurry toward the exit, both of them readying their pistols and Jonathan walking briskly by their side. His cane tapped a warning note against the fire-veined dark marble of the floor, announcing to any who might bar their way the temerity of such an idea. His sharp eyes picked out some types lurking in the shadows just outside the doors, the sort of parasitic creatures that always gravitated toward the halls of power.
A tall, oily being with multiple segments oozed over toward them, what passed for a face stretched into a parody of a friendly smile. Both Sarah and Marie leveled their weapons, and Jonathan gave the thing a glare. Really, it should have known better than to approach anyone who had survived a private audience with Ukari, but such leeches could only survive by ingratiating themselves with real power.
“Feel free to shoot anyone who bothers you,” Jonathan said aloud, and the smile faltered as the thing took in the pair of softly glowing zint pistols pointed its way. Then it snarled and slunk off, and Jonathan continued through the gleaming, treasure-filled entrance hall until they emerged into the sudden noise and motion of central Ukaresh.
Beings on two legs and four, or even six or eight, scurried about their enigmatic business. Ramps and walks crossed between buildings above and open tunnels below, connecting architectures both striking and profane, while lights of a dozen different types cast shadows in a variety of shades across the stone of the street. The air of the city was heavy with foreign and unnamable perfumes and exhalations of alien life. It was clean, however; Ukari would not stand for anything else.
It took Jonathan a moment to gain his bearings, forcibly transported as they were and with Ukaresh being in the habit of changing its landmarks. The marble and glass of the palace was always at the center, but it required a certain twisted logic to reason out the direction and route back toward where the Endeavor waited. There were personal conveyances here and there; a spider-legged cart or a glass bubble on wheel, but none that Jonathan would trust with either himself or the maids.
Instead he moved briskly along the street, a cautious eye out for the inevitable trouble. Ukaresh was not completely lawless, and yet it could not be characterized as orderly. Outbreaks of violence were not uncommon, but anything that threatened to spiral into more than a personal spat was quashed with murderous enthusiasm. Most of those who inhabited Ukaresh were dangerous enough that few actually tried, despite the uncooperative nature of many of the strange creatures that crawled or walked or flew its streets.
A trio of ordinary humans, however, were clearly out of place. The smarter individuals would realize what that implied, but there were always those just dim enough to see Jonathan and his companions as easy targets. Even as a younger and wilder man visiting Ukaresh, he’d been beset more than once, which had certainly sharpened his senses and skill with a blade. Older, wiser, and more driven, he didn’t fear any of the inhabitants that might cross their path.
That assurance meant that none dared to accost them for a good distance. Sarah and Marie were more obviously out of place, noticeably strained if not actually frightened, weapons ready and eyes darting over to each new passerby or mechanical conveyance. It was a form of weakness that invited trouble, and soon enough a small group of airborne creatures plunged out of the sky with a laugh and a scream, aiming themselves at the pair of maids. Four claw-tipped limbs undulated and clutched with frantic hunger, each of the creatures babbling something in a language foreign to the human mouth from a bulbous, leering face.
To their credit, neither woman panicked, nor did they hesitate in taking aim with their pistols and shooting at the things. Bright zint bolts flashed upward, most missing and tearing sizzling holes in or through walls and walks. The ones that did hit elicited ear-shattering squeals of pain, turning plunging dives into uncontrolled falls. Jonathan’s sword whipped through the air and spitted two more, the remaining few from the group shrieking as they scattered and fled.
“Unless you want to take any trophies, we might as well continue,” Jonathan said. The very brief fracas had attracted some attention, from some fuzzy spider-thing draped in silks dangling above to a rodent-faced centipede peering out of a nearby tunnel entrance, and it was best to move on and leave the city to its business. He wiped the still-pristine blade of his sword-cane with his handkerchief and sheathed it once again, beckoning the maids to follow.
The return path to the Endeavor was a brief tour through a kaleidoscopic geography, through geometries unreasonable to human sensibilities and taking circumlocutions that crossed through spaces that should have been forbidden by ordinary laws of shape and volume. The very first time he had been to Ukaresh, in a now distant youth, he had been bedazzled and bewildered by the riotous variety, so unlike the orderly streets of Beacon. Now he found its labyrinthine turnings and garish colors to be merely tedious, and better understood why Ukari showed so little interest in most of it.
When they reached Crispin’s building, the street was only slightly damaged and the walls were mostly intact; such was not always the case when She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed moved upon the world. This time, the surroundings were in good enough repair that there was no need to consider moving the Endeavor. A fortunate occurrence, as there were few places in Ukaresh that would be even marginally safe for a human airship. Jonathan doubted that was coincidence; Ukari did nothing by accident.
Jonathan accompanied the pair back to the descent line, and saw them up before returning to the chaotic streets of Ukaresh. He had no wish to answer the questions Antomine would surely have, and no need to wait for Eleanor with bated breath. She would succeed – or not – on her own merits, and she was the only one Jonathan trusted could navigate Ukaresh on her own.
He had purchases to make on behalf of the ship, to replenish what supplies he could — and preparations that did not need other witnesses. The Arch of Khokorron demanded a price he could no longer pay himself, and so he needed a substitute. The only option he knew of required a sacrifice.