And Eternity (4 page)

“Something complicated may be afoot,” Jolie said seriously. “May I take longer leave of you for a special mission?”

“As you wish. Is there anything I should know, in case your return is delayed?”

Jolie considered. She could not afford to say too much, but it was only right to let Gaea know where she would be. “I think we have to visit Nox.”

Gaea gazed at her. Then, without comment, she turned a page elsewhere, leaving Jolie alone with the sleeping ghost.

Jolie went to the bedroom. Orlene looked much improved; the restoration had proceeded nicely as she slept. It had, of course, been enhanced by the Tree; all the things of Nature were strongest here. Soon the woman would be ready for the journey, as ready as it was possible for anyone to be.

Jolie took a chair and allowed herself to fade out. She would wake when Orlene did. Then there would be more explaining, and a challenge of uncertain nature. Already the mystery of it disturbed her; nothing like this had happened since she had joined Gaea.

Could this be an aspect of the great contest between God and Satan for dominance of the mortal realm? She loved Parry, but knew that in his guise as Satan he fully intended to take power if he could do so. Yet even that did not seem to make sense, for Nox had never before participated in this eternal struggle. No, it seemed to be some incidental ploy, of interest only to the Incarnation of Night, and secret from all but herself. With luck, it would prove to be a harmless diversion, something Nox was doing merely for amusement. Who could comprehend what might amuse such a creature?

Jolie had little confidence in such luck. She slept without truly relaxing. Her ghostly state made sleep unnecessary, physically, but she certainly could use something of the sort emotionally!

“And so we shall have to brave the Void to locate Nox,” Jolie concluded. “That seems to be the only way to reach your baby.”

“Then I shall go there!” Orlene exclaimed, brightening. She was now as lovely as she had been at the height of her mortality, though her grief and worry detracted somewhat from it. “I thank you, Jolie, for your support and research: you have given me genuine hope.”

“We shall go there,” Jolie corrected her. “I would not send you alone to such a treacherous region.”

“You have already done too much, my friend. You must return to your interrupted task.”

“My observations are ongoing and not immediately pressing; this is more urgent.”

“For me, yes, but it is not your concern. I would not-”

“Orlene, it is my concern,” Jolie said firmly. “I was watching over you, and I neglected that, and you died.”

“I took my own life!”

“Because your baby sickened and died, because his genetic pattern had been changed, because your ghost husband sought a favor from Gaea without reckoning its consequence. I am Gaea’s companion; had I been watching, I could have warned her, and Gaw-Two would have been spared. That is my guilt.” That was only part of it; she had let this happen to Gaea’s mortal daughter! How could she ever make up for that? She dreaded the inevitable time when she would have to tell Gaea.

Orlene gazed at her and did not speak.

They left the Tree together. Gaea was off on another mission; they did not see her.

There was an access to the Void at the edge of Purgatory, the one used by Clotho when she went to fetch more thread. They followed the road, and then the path, through a dense forest. The trees become so large and close that they shaded the path, making it seem to be dusk. Their gnarled trunks seemed to assume grotesque faces, the sinister recesses staring out at the trespassers. Even Jolie, who had become familiar with Purgatory and other aspects of the Afterlife, found herself becoming apprehensive. How was it affecting Orlene?

The great trees encroached further, their roots clutching at the path like twisted talons. A trunk blocked the path ahead: they had to squeeze around it, only to encounter another in the way. Soon they were lost in the maze of dark columns, unable to see far in any direction or to discern a coherent path. Jolie was not at all sure she could find her way out naturally: fortunately she could always revert to her home drop of blood, heedless of the route between. If that became necessary, she would clasp Orlene by the hand and bring her along.

The trees became gradually different. It wasn’t just a matter of species, but of realm; their trunks were assuming surfaces and colors not seen in nature, such as tinted glass or bluish steel. Their foliage became geometrical, each leaf fashioned as if by compass and straightedge into circle, oval, hexagon or square. Light came through, reflecting from mirror surfaces and refracting through transparencies. This was now a fairyland forest, with bright rays splaying out from many nexuses, splendid in an unsettling way.

The path became clear again-but it diverged. One fork progressed into a region of disintegrating trees, some even floating upside down, their colors inverted, too, with green roots and brown leaves. The other fork wound toward some kind of mountain. Perhaps both paths went there, for both were devious, but would they rejoin?

The two women looked at each other. “I’m afraid my expertise was left at the edge of the forest,” Jolie said. “I have never been into this region before. I have no idea how to proceed.”

“I see that one path is better used than the other,” Orlene said. “Would that be significant?”

Jolie hadn’t noticed. The new ghost was recovering her mental acuity! “Clotho, the youngest Aspect of Fate, comes here monthly to renew her supply of Thread, as I understand it. She must use one path, and that one has become worn.”

“Does Clotho go to see Nox?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then maybe the other one is ours.”

Jolie shrugged. She had no better logic.

They took the path less traveled. It made its way toward the mountain, which rose up monstrously as they approached. The peak was lost in cloud, and the base seemed to delve down below the ground, as if it were no natural configuration, but an alien object set within the scene.

“There is something strange about this landscape,” Orlene remarked.

Jolie laughed. “You are just noticing? This is the fringe of the Void, where the laws of reality start breaking down!”

“Apart from that,” Orlene said. “So far we have seen odd trees, but now, I don’t know.”

Jolie had to agree. The oddness was shifting from quantitative to qualitative, as it were; the trees were obvious, but now there was something subtle. “It seems to relate to the mountain.”

When they reached the base of the mountain they had another clue: it was indeed set into the terrain. There was a gap a handsbreadth wide between the land and the slope of the mountain, and this was maintained below. The gap extended as far and deep as they could see. It was as though the mountain were a jewel set in the land and had contracted slightly, leaving a space. If nothing were done, in time the jewel would fall out of its setting and be lost. Meanwhile it remained, and it seemed it was theirs to climb. The path went up to the edge and on up the slope, neatly ignoring the gap.

“Nox is there?” Orlene inquired, glancing up.

Jolie considered. “When Gaea is busy, or wishes to make a point, she makes it difficult for others to approach her residence,” she said. “Even other Incarnations lack power to approach her in her domain, unless she accedes. Nox is by all accounts the most seclusive of Incarnations, so perhaps this is her challenge that keeps away intruders. If so, then it means we are on the right path.”

Orlene grimaced. Even in that expression she looked better than she had been when grieving for her baby. The challenge was taking her mind from her personal problem, and that was good. “Then we had better get moving.”

They stepped over the gap and stood on the mountain. The oddness abruptly magnified; this was definitely an unearthly structure! There was a vibrance about it, an animation not as of life but as of an awakening machine with sophisticated circuits. Suddenly Jolie was uncertain of the security of her ghostly state; whatever was here seemed competent to capture her spiritual aspect as readily as it might have her physical aspect.

Orlene, too, hesitated. “Something about this,” she said. “I feel a power I don’t trust.”

“The power of an Incarnation, perhaps,” Jolie agreed. “Sometimes Gaea manifests physically in the mortal realm, and when a mortal becomes aware of her, he is awed by her mere presence. This feels somewhat like that. An Incarnation is to ordinary folk what a mountain is to a molehill. They have powers we hardly dare dream of. If this mountain is of Nox, she is aware of us, and we are in her power.”

“She wants us to desist?”

“I think if she wanted that, she would have removed the mountain entirely, or made the path impenetrable. No, I suspect this is merely her warning: we are in her territory now, and must obey her rules. She will let us proceed if she chooses.”

Orlene gazed up the slope. “You say she is the Incarnation of Night, yet this is light.”

“I confess I don’t understand this aspect, but surely we shall be in darkness before we reach her.”

“Let’s hope it is only physical.”

Then Orlene noticed something in the path. It looked like a stick, jammed in so as to stand vertically. But it wasn’t natural; the upper end was shaped into a handle.

Jolie reached down to take it, but her hand passed through it. “An illusion!” she said, hardly amused. In a sense, everything here was illusory, including themselves, but so far it had all been in a common framework, interacting as if physical. She didn’t want the confusion of layered illusions.

“You mean it isn’t real?” Orlene inquired, reaching for it herself. This sort of thing evidently remained a novelty to her.

“It’s real, just not on the same plane, the same level of being,” Jolie explained. “There are an infinite number of planes of being, and the Incarnations can craft them to their needs. We, as ghosts, are on one plane, and seem solid here, but not on Earth. It depends. This must be Nox’s doing.”

Orlene’s hand touched the stick. “But it’s real!” she exclaimed. Her fingers closed about the handle and she drew it out of the ground. “A wand!”

“A magic wand!” Jolie agreed, trying to touch it and failing again. “One only you can wield!”

“But what can I do with it? I know nothing about this!”

“It must have been left for you. This may be Nox’s invitation for you to proceed. The wand may be the key to progress when some barrier appears.”

“You mean I wave it and magic happens?” Orlene waved it experimentally. Nothing happened.

“You may have to invoke it,” Jolie offered, “But it’s best not to play with unknown magic. Keep it with you, and invoke it only at need.”

Orlene nodded. “I have magic, but it doesn’t focus on inanimate things. I can’t tell whether this wand is good or evil or neutral, but I suppose I would be foolish to set it aside until I discover its purpose.”

“I think so,” Jolie said. “Nox evidently has something in mind for you.” She was reassured by this evidence, but not completely; if Nox was watching them and wanted them to proceed, why the mystery?

They moved on up the path. In this region they seemed solid and alive, for this was at the fringe of Purgatory, but they did not get hungry or tire in the way a mortal might. They made good progress, following the path in what they hoped was a spiraling ascent. It might have been more direct to go straight up the side, but there were loose rocks and steep faces and prickly briars that seemed worth avoiding. They were both dressed in light blouses and skirts and comfortable slippers, having no way to anticipate what they might encounter in their approach to Nox. So far, this was good enough. Jolie had expected to conjure whatever outfits they required, for the magic she had learned in life remained with her in death, and indeed had grown with experience. But when she had tried to conjure sturdier walking shoes, it hadn’t taken; it seemed that Nox banned magic other than her own here.

Orlene paused, listening. “What is that sound?”

Jolie concentrated. There was a faint humming or buzzing in the distance, getting louder. “Bees?”

“Do bees swarm in the Afterlife?”

“I never heard of it. Bees and most other creatures seem to have their own Afterlife, which only rarely intersects ours. This could be one of those intersections, though.”

“If we remain perfectly still, they should pass without molesting us. Norton was a man of the wilderness; he educated me on the beauties of nature.”

Norton was her lover, in life, the one who had sired her baby. He had arrived just as Jolie guided Orlene away from her dead body. Jolie kept silent, so as not to encourage saddening memories.

The noise increased, developing a rattle. That didn’t sound like bees!

Then the source came into view: a cloud of things that jumped and fluttered and descended. There seemed to be thousands of them.

“Locusts!” Orlene exclaimed. “I thought those were abolished decades ago!”

“The rules are different here,” Jolie reminded her. “I think we’d better hide.”

“But locusts eat only plants!””

“Among the mortals.” Jolie headed for the bushes beside the path.

Orlene hesitated, then followed her example just as the vanguard of the swarm arrived.

The insects landed and began to chomp. The foliage of the bushes disappeared. In a moment the locusts were dropping onto Jolie and chomping at her clothing.

She couldn’t help herself; she was revolted by the contact. “Away!” she cried, brushing frantically at them. “Off! Off!” She hated to touch them, but hated worse to let them touch her. She heard Orlene exclaiming similarly in the next bush.

Then the locusts began to bite flesh. Jolie screamed, and Orlene echoed her. Both leaped out of their bushes, flailing at the horrible creatures. The locusts clung, continuing to bite; their feet hooked in, making it as easy to crush them as to remove them. More descended, cloaking the women with their loathsome bodies. “The wand!” Jolie cried. “Try it now!”

“I invoke you!” Orlene screamed, waving the wand violently.

A cloud of darkness formed around the tip of the wand. It spread rapidly, enclosing Orlene and the locusts, then Jolie. It became night around them, complete with stars.