Water Sleeps (36 page)

D espite the numbers and the animals and my own pessimism, nothing went wrong.

Goblin and I made repeated rounds of the circle and the tailback running north
up the protected road. We found everyone in a mood to be cooperative. I suppose
that had something to do with the shadows clinging to the surface of our
invisible protection and oozing around like evil leeches. Nothing focuses the
attention like the proximity of a bad death.

“There are other ways in and out of this circle besides the one we came in and
the one we’re going to use tomorrow,” I told Goblin. “How come we can’t see
them?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s magic. Maybe you ought to ask One-Eye.”

“Why him?”

“You’ve been around long enough that you should’ve discovered the truth. He
knows everything. Just ask. He’ll tell you.” Evidently he was less worried about
his friend. He was back to picking on One-Eye.

“You know, you’re right. I haven’t had much chance to talk to him but I did
notice that he’s going all-out to be a pain. Why don’t we go wake him up, tell
him he’s in charge, and get ourselves some shut-eye?” Which is what we did, with
slight modifications, after we made sure there was a watch rotation for every
potential entry into the circle, whether it could be seen or not. With help from
Gota and Uncle Doj, One-Eye was still capable of contributing a little something
to his own protection. Not that he was willing to admit that.

I believe Goblin went off and whispered something to Tobo, too, after we went
our respective ways.

I had just gotten comfortable on my nice rock bed when Sahra invited herself
over for a chat. I really was tired and uncharitable. When I sensed her
presence, I just wanted her to go away. And she did not stay long.

She said, “Murgen wanted to talk to you but I told him you were exhausted and
needed to rest. He wanted me to warn you that your dreams may be particularly
vivid and probably confusing. He said just don’t go anywhere and don’t panic. I
have to go tell Goblin and One-Eye and Uncle and some others and have them
spread the word to everyone else. Rest easy.” She patted my hand, letting me
know we were still friends. I grunted and closed my eyes.

Murgen was right. Night on the glittering plain was another adventure entirely.

The landmarks were similar but seemed to be ghosts of their daytime selves. And
the sky was not to be trusted.

The plain itself was still all shades of grey but now with some sort of implied
illumination that left all the angles and edges clearly defined. Once when I
glanced upward I saw a full moon and the sky crowded with stars, then only
moments later, the overcast was back and there was nothing to be seen at all.

The characters inscribed on the standing stones all seemed busy, which was not
something Murgen had noted during his own visit. I watched for a moment,

recognizing individual characters but no words. Nevertheless, I had an epiphany
I would have to pass on to Master Santaraksita in the morning. The inscriptions
on the pillars did begin at the upper right and read downward. For the first
column. The second column read from the bottom upward. Then the third read back
down. And so on.

I became more interested in the things moving amongst the pillars, though. There
were some big shadows out there, things with a presence potent enough to terrify
and scatter the little shadows radiating hunger as they crawled over the surface
of our protection. The big ones would not come closer. They had about them an
air of infinite, wicked patience that left me convinced they would be out there
waiting if it took a thousand years for one of us to screw up and open a gap in
our protection.

In dream, all roads leading into the circle were equally well-defined. Each was
a glimmering ruler stroke running off to glowing domes in the distance. Of all
those roads and domes, though, only those on our north-south trace seemed to be
fully alive. Either the road knew what we wanted to do or it knew what it wanted
us to do.

In an instant I was amazed, bewildered, terrified, exultant, having realized
that in order to see what I was seeing, I would have to be at least a dozen feet
above my normal height of eye. Which meant that I had to go outside my skin, the
way Murgen did, and while I had wished for the ability a thousand times and the
view was engrossing, the risks were none I cared to face when the opportunity
was real. I sped a prayer heavenward. God needs to be reminded. I was totally,

ecstatically, happy being Sleepy, without one shred of mystical talent. Really.

If it was necessary that somebody in my gang do this sort of thing, Goblin or
One-Eye or Uncle Doj or almost anyone else could have the magic, sparing only
Tobo, despite him being the prophesied future of the Company. Tobo was still a
little too short on self-discipline to be handed any more capabilities.

The presence of the small shadows was kind of like that of a flock of pigeons.

They were not silent on that ghost-world level but they did not try to
communicate unless with one another. It took me only moments to shut them out.

The skies above were more troublesome. Each time I lifted my gaze I saw that
some dramatic change had occurred. Sometimes there was an impenetrable overcast,

sometimes a wild starfield and a full moon. Once there were fewer stars and an
extra moon. Once a distinct constellation hung right over the road south. It
conformed exactly to Murgen’s description of a constellation called the Noose.

Hitherto I had always suspected the Noose to have been a fabrication on Mother
Gota’s part.

Then, just beyond the golden pickax, I spied a strapping trio of the uglies
Murgen had reported meeting in that very spot his first night on the glittering
plain. Were they yakshas? Rakshasas? I tried to shoehorn them into Gunni or even
Kina’s mythology but just could not make them fit. There would be plenty of
room, though, I did not doubt. The Gunni are more flexible in matters of
doctrine than are we Vehdna. We are taught that intolerance is our gift of
faith. Gunni flexibility is just one more reason they will all suffer the
eternal fires. The idolaters.

God is Great. God is Merciful. In Forgiveness He is Like the Earth. But He can
become a tad mean-spirited with unbelievers.

I tried desperately to recall Murgen’s report of his encounter with these dream
creatures. Nothing came forward despite the fact that I had been the one who had
written it all down. I could not for certain recall if his night visitors had
been identical to these. These were humanoid and human-size but definitely
lacking human features. Possibly they wore masks in the guise of beasts. Judging
from their frenetic gestures, they wanted me to follow them somewhere. I seemed
to recall something similar having happened during Murgen’s episode. He had
refused. So did I, although I did drift toward them and did attempt to engage
them in conversation.

I did not, of course, have a knack for generating sound without a body or tools.

And they did not speak any language I knew, so the whole business was an
exercise in futility.

They became extremely frustrated. They seemed to think that I was playing games.

They finally stamped away, obviously possessed by a big anger.

“Murgen, I don’t know where you are. But you’re going to have to spend some time
clueing me in here.”

The ugly people were gone. No skin off my nose. Now maybe I could get some
sleep. Some real sleep, without all these too-real dreams and awful, improbable
skies.

It started to rain, which told me which sky was the true sky and paramount above
the me that lay twitching fitfully as the cold drops began to make themselves
felt. There was no way to get in out of it. There was no way to erect tents or
other shelters on the plain. In fact, the matter of weather had not arisen
during our planning sessions. I do not know why, though it seems that there is
always something big that you overlook, something to which every planner on the
team turns a blind eye. Then, when the breakdown or failure comes, you cannot
figure out how you overlooked the obvious.

Somehow we must have concluded that there was no weather on the plain. Maybe
because Murgen’s Annals did not recall any. But somebody should have noticed
that the Captured made this journey at a different time of year. Somebody should
have realized that that was sure to have some impact. Somebody probably named
me.

It had been cool already when the rain began to fall. It grew chillier fast.

Crabbily, I got up and helped cover stuff to protect it, helped get out means
for recovering some of the water, then confiscated a piece of tenting and
another blanket, rolled up and went back to sleep, ignoring the rain. It was
only a persistent drizzle and when you are exhausted, nothing but sleep matters
much.

I found Murgen waiting when I got home to dreamland.

“You seem surprised. I told you I’d see you on the plain.”

“You did. But I don’t need it to be right now. Right now I need to sleep.”

“You are. You’ll wake up as refreshed as if you hadn’t dreamed at all.”

“I don’t want to be drifting around loose from my body, either.”

“Then don’t.”

“I can control it?”

“You can. Just decide not to do it. It’s pretty basic. Most people manage it
instinctively. Ask around tomorrow. See how many of these people even recall
being loose from their flesh.”

“It’s something everybody does?”

“Up here. It’s something everybody can do. If they want. Most don’t want it so
emphatically that they don’t even recognize that the opportunity is there. Which
doesn’t matter. It’s not why I’m here.”

“It matters a bunch to me. That stuff is scary. I’m just a simple low-class city
brat—”

“Cancel the old whine-and-toe shuffle, Sleepy. You’re wasting time. I probably
know as much about you as you know about yourself. There’re things you need to
know.”

“I’m listening.”

“Till now you’ve dealt with the plain well enough by letting the Annals guide
you. Stick with the rules you’ve already made and you won’t have any trouble.

Don’t dawdle. You didn’t bring enough water—even if you slaughter your animals
as you go, the way you planned. There’s ice here that you can melt but if you
waste time getting here, you’ll end up having to kill more animals than you
want. And take good care of them while they’re still alive. Don’t let them get
so thirsty they start charging around looking for water and go busting through
your protection. That’ll heal itself but it does take time. The shadows won’t
give you time.”

“Then we’re safe from the break that killed Sindawe and some of the others?”

“Yes. You’ll find Bucket tomorrow. I warn you now so you’ll have time to prepare
yourself.”

I was prepared already. I had been prepared for a long time. Actually seeing
Bucket dead would be difficult but I would get past it. “Tell me what I should
do now that I’m here.”

“You’re doing it. Just don’t do it slowly.”

“Should I split the group? Send a strike force forward?”

“That wouldn’t be wise. You wouldn’t be able to manage whichever group you
weren’t with. And that’ll be the one where somebody screws up and gets us all
killed.”

“You, too?”

“There’s nobody else who can get me out if you fail. There isn’t even anyone
else out there who knows that we’re alive.”

“The Daughter of Night and Narayan Singh know. Probably.” They had overheard
enough to figure it out, certainly.

“Which means Soulcatcher does too, now. But you know, I don’t really see those
people developing an interest in raising the dead. Not to mention that now the
Shadowgate can only be opened from this side. This is the last cast of the dice,

Sleepy. And it’s for everything.”

I did not remind Murgen that Narayan Singh and his ward had a very strong
interest in resurrecting someone who was practically his grave-mate. He was
right about the Shadowgate, assuming there were no more Keys outside. “How did I
know you were going to say something like that?”

He gave me the smile that probably won Sahra’s heart.

I told him, “You should go see Sahra.”

“I already have. That’s why I was so late getting around to you.”

“What can I say? Oh. I saw those creatures . . . the . . . ” I did not know what
they were called, so I tried to describe them.

“The Washane, the Washene and the Washone, collectively referred to as the Nef.

They’re dreamwalkers, too.”

“Too?”

“I’m a dreamwalker. You can see me but only with your mind’s eye. In some way
that you remember me. The Nef are out here all the time. They may be trapped, or
they may no longer have bodies to go back to. I’ve never been able to tell. They
want to communicate so badly because they want something badly but don’t seem
capable of learning how. They’re from one of the other worlds. If they no longer
have bodies they may even be skinwalkers, so be very careful around them.”

“The . . . duh . . . what are you blathering about?”

“Oh. We haven’t talked about any of that yet, have we?”

“Any of what?”

“I really thought you’d figure most of it out by reading between the lines. The
Companies had to come from somewhere and it would be hard to scratch out a
living on a tabletop of bare stone. So they must have come from somewhere else.

Somewhere very else, since the plain isn’t so big you can’t walk around it and
discover that there’s nowhere for armies to come from. The land just gets colder
and more inhospitable.”

“I’m real thick, boss. You should’ve drawn me some pictures.”

“I wasn’t keen on having anyone outside know. I didn’t want anybody getting
scared to come get me.”

“You’re my brother.”

He ignored me. “I haven’t slept here, so I have a lot of time on my hands. I’ve
used some of it exploring. There are sixteen Shadowgates, Sleepy. And fifteen of
them open onto places that aren’t our world. Or did at one time. Most of them
are dead now and in my state, I can’t see what used to be on the other side
without actually going out there. And I don’t have the eggs to do that, because
I like my own world just fine and I don’t want to take a chance of getting
trapped any farther away from it than I already am.

“Only four of the gates are still alive. And the one to our world is so badly
hurt that it probably won’t last many generations more.”

I was lost. Completely. I was prepared for none of this. And yet he was right
when he hinted that there were bells I should have heard ringing. “What does all
that have to do with Kina? It isn’t in her legend anywhere. In fact, what does
it even have to do with us? It’s not in our legend anywhere.”

“Yes it is, Sleepy. The truth is just so old that time has totally distorted it.

Examine Gunni mythology. There’s a lot there about other planes, other realms of
reality, different heavens and whatnot. Those stories go way back before the
coming of the Free Companies, a thousand years or more. Near as I’ve been able
to find out, when the first Free Company came off the plain, almost six hundred
years ago, that event marked the first time our Shadowgate had been used in at
least eight centuries. That’s a lot of time for truth to mutate.”

“Whoa. Whoa. You’re starting to imply things I can’t quite get my mind around.”

“You’d better open it up and spread it out wide, Sleepy, because there’s a whole
lot more. And I doubt I’ve discovered even a tenth of it.”

I have a dark, cynical, untrusting side that at times even doubts the motives of
my closest friends. “Why is it that none of this ever got mentioned until now?

This isn’t fresh news to you, is it?”

“No. It isn’t. But I told you, I want out of here. Badly. I chose not to pass on
any information that might handicap you.”

“Handicap me? What the heck are you talking about?”

“Kina and the Captured aren’t the only things sleeping up here. There’re also a
lot of truths that would shake the foundations of our world. Truths I have no
trouble imagining wholesale slaughters and holy wars arising to suppress. Truths
I have no trouble seeing getting my family and the Company obliterated, they’re
so threatening.”

“I’m trying to open my mind but I’m having trouble. I feel like I’m about to
plunge into an abyss.”

“Just hang on. I’ve been out here forever and I still have trouble with it. I
think the way to start is, I should outline the history of the plain.”

“Yes. Why don’t you do that? That might be interesting.”

“You still have that edge on your tongue, don’t you? Maybe Swan is right and
what you really need is a good . . . all right. All right. Listen closely. The
plain was created so far back in antiquity that nobody on any of the worlds has
any idea who built it, how, or why, though you have to believe that it was meant
to be a pathway between the worlds.”

“Why the shadows and standing stones and—”

“I can’t tell you anything if I’m not the one doing the talking.”

“Sorry.”

“In the beginning there was the plain. Just the plain, with its network of roads
that have to be walked a certain way to get to other worlds. For example, every
traveler has to enter the great circle at the center of the plain before he can
leave the plain again. Back then there were no shadows, no Shadowgates, no
standing stones, no great fortress inside the great circle, no caverns beneath
the stone, no sleeping gods, no Captured, no Books of the Dead. There was
nothing but the plain. The crossroads of worlds. Or possibly of time. One rogue
school of thought insists the gates all open into the same world but at times
which are separated by tens of thousands of years.

“At some time still in unimaginable antiquity, human nature asserted itself and
would-be conquerers began to charge back and forth across the plain. During a
period of exhaustion the wise men of a dozen worlds combined to make the first
modifications to the plain. They built a fortress in the great circle and
garrisoned it with a race of created immortal guardians whose task it would be
to prevent armies from passing from world to world.

“Then we pass to the edge of proto-history, the age now recalled poorly as it is
distorted in Gunni myth.

“Those driven to conquer will try to do so, whatever the obstacles. Kina
apparently started out as your run-of-the-mill, dark-lord type that arises every
few centuries, as Lady’s first husband was, only she was another in a line and
association of many such, some of whom are now recalled as gods because of the
impact they had on their times. The whole cabal decided to beef Kina up until
she could overcome the ‘demons’ on the plain. In the process she did become
what, for want of a better descriptive, we would have to call a god. And she
behaved every bit as badly as her associates should have expected, with results
more or less like those recalled in the mythology. Once Kina was asleep, her
associates opened the maze of caverns under the plain and buried her way down
deep somewhere. Then they created Shivetya, the Steadfast Guardian, to keep
watch. Or they conscripted a surviving demon of the same name and strengthened
him and bound him to do the job, if you prefer a less common version of the
story. Then, apparently too exhausted to recover their greatness, they faded
away. So Kina came out on top even if she ended up imprisoned.”

“Why didn’t they just kill her? That’s something I’ve never understood about
these squabbles amongst the gods. There’s only one version of the Kina myth
where her enemies do anything but just tuck her in. And in that one, even after
she’s all chopped up and scattered around, they leave the pieces alive and
trying to get back together.”

“My guess would be she had some kind of deadman spell that entwined the fates of
the other gods with her own. Those people wouldn’t have trusted one another for
a second. All of them would have had some protective mechanism like Longshadow
used when he tied his fate into the well-being of the Shadowgate.”

“But the Shadowgate doesn’t depend on his health anymore. Not as long as he
stays inside.”

“I was just posing an example, Sleepy. Let’s stick to the history of the plain.

What followed Kina’s downfall isn’t documented at all, but more conquerers came
and went and further efforts were made to dissuade them while keeping the plain
open for commerce. The gates and Keys were created. One world gathered its
sorcerers and had them steal the souls of millions of prisoners of war, creating
the shadows and endowing them with a bitter hatred of everything living. They
meant to close down the plain entirely. Which naturally led some other race to
create the shields that protect the circles and roads. Nobody knows for sure how
or when the standing stones began to appear but they’re the most recent addition
to the plain, probably put out by the precursors of the multiple-worlds’

religious movement that produced the Free Companies. I understand that the
stones aren’t quarried, they’re created things. They’re immune to the shadows
and indifferent to the protective shields but they’re attuned to the various
Keys carried away during the Free Companies’ age.”

“It’s too much to grasp. It’ll take a long time to digest. Kina is real,

though?”

“Absolutely. Buried right down here under me somewhere. I’ve never been tempted
to go look for her. I wouldn’t want to accidentally cut her loose. I don’t know
how I could manage that but I definitely don’t want to find out the hard way.”

“What about Rhaydreynak and the Books of the Dead? Where do they fit?”

Rhaydreynak’s war on the cult of Kina antedated the appearance of the Free
Companies by several centuries supposedly, yet there were scary similarities
suggesting shared origins.

“The rise of the Free Companies is actually one of the least well known despite
its being closest in time. There were many Companies over several hundred years.

They came from several different worlds and went off into several more,

representing almost as many different sects of Kina worshippers. Most seem to
have been sent out to explore, not conquer or to serve as mercenaries or even to
bring on the Year of the Skulls. What their true mission seems to have been was
to determine which world should be awarded the honor of being sacrificed in
order to bring on the Year of the Skulls.”

“Then a bunch of worlds decided to gang up on ours?”

“Kina spanned many worlds. Her deviltry was almost universal, apparently.”

“And we lost the toss and got to bury her in ours?”

“You’re not in our world anymore, Sleepy. This’s the in-between. Where you are
depends on what gate you walk out. And these days you have only one choice. Its
Shadowgate lies straight ahead, on the far side of the plain. It’s as if the
plain itself is closing down the alternate ways.”