Eden's Jester (23 page)

“It means that Aeson is using the promise of whatever is in that pyramid to draw Law into an alliance. I’m sure both of them plan on betraying the other, but Aeson doesn’t care. His real goal is to keep Law out of the way until it’s too late to stop his real plan, his primary goal. He’s going to free the demons from the Abyss. He plans to unleash them upon the humans.”

“How on earth could he do that?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But when I was in his stronghold, I saw something that looked like a giant birdbath. There was a picture of it in my cave, next to the Patron on the battlefield. Aeson used it to send me into the Abyss. Maybe it gives him the ability to open a door both ways.”

Els’ eyes widened. “That’s why all the bodies. He was feeding those poor people to the monsters to give them a taste for human souls. What a fiend!”

“Yeah, I hate that guy,” I said.

“What are we going to do? We have to do something. Tell Melanthios. He’ll listen.”

“Ha! He won’t believe it. And even if he did, I would bet that Aeson has planned for Melanthios’s betrayal. He’s already used their alliance to get an edge on him. No. We have to use chess pieces that Aeson won’t have a contingency for.”

“Like what? Our assets are . . . well, we don’t have any.”

I thought it over. Life was squeezing me again. I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had been dropped into this crap on purpose. The events of the last few weeks were definitely contrived. But here I was, fighting Law, Chaos, demons, and the Abyss. And while I wasn’t out in front, I was riding the wave. The odds of that were largely against it being random. Someone was pulling my strings to put me right here, right now. Why me? It’s not like I don’t ask that question daily. But this time my situation had specifics that were unique. Imprisoned demons, bad Engineers, the power to create life, with the human world stuck right in the middle, walking in ignorance of its peril and without any means to resist the horror down the road.
 

“We need help. Big help,” I said. “Who do we know besides Melanthios that is powerful in Law and can help. Any Lord of Law, if we could convince them of Aeson’s real intent, would act. I’m sure of it.”

“Melia,” Els said.

“That art chick? You’ve got to be kidding.” I remembered Melia from Aeson’s Gathering. She was of the Discipline of Art, as if there was such a thing. Give me a break. But she was one of the few to question Aeson at the Gathering.
 

“She’s a very senior Engineer of Law, and no friend of Melanthios,” Els said. “And she’s worked quite a bit with Diomedes, whom, I noticed, your plan didn’t mention anything about freeing. Tell me you haven’t forgotten about him, Elson.”

“I haven’t. I just don’t know what to do about him. I’ll keep thinking about it. Something’ll come up. It always does.”

I decided to change the subject before Els decided to claw my eyes out or something.
 

“So, where are the headquarters of this ‘Discipline of Art’?” I asked, as we got up to go.

“In Paris. There’s a small artist’s colony near the Basilica. It’s a beautiful place and they have great coffee, so you should feel right at home.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

We sat at a sidewalk table in front of a nice little café situated on the edge of the artist colony Els had mentioned. While I was completely under-impressed with the idea of meeting some practitioners of the so-called Discipline of Art, the view was stunning. To my left, the landscape dropped away quickly for several hundred feet. As I looked out over the drop-off, the city of Paris stretched out into the distance, the sheet of white buildings broken only by the protrusion of the Eiffel Tower. To my right stood the ancient Basilica: an enormous cathedral complex of white stone and lofty spires stretching into the blue sky.
 

It was very early morning, my favorite time, which I usually spend in a gravel pit.
 

I could get used to mornings in Paris.

We didn’t wait long before Melia, and two others I didn’t recognize, joined us.
 

Melia looked like a farm girl. Her cinnamon skin and chocolate colored hair had a slightly rough edge, like she’d spent the morning picking grapes in some vineyard.

She smiled and introduced the others to me. Gustav and Rolf. They looked French, despite their names. Gustav had a pretentious goatee trimmed far too neatly, and Rolf looked unshaven--real GQ guys. My sense of prognostication told me I wouldn’t be making many friends here.

Gustav and Rolf were preoccupied with studying me.

I stared back.

“Aello, you’ve changed,” Melia said. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine, Melia. Given recent events. And please, call me Els.”

Melia studied Els for a moment, then smiled.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it. Would anyone like a cup of coffee?” Melia asked. I raised my hand. “It is quite good here. Elson, I understand you are somewhat of an expert on the subject.”

“It’s one of the few things I drink, actually. But I’ve never had it here.”

“Ah,” she said, pleased. “Then you’ll enjoy ours. It is among the best in the world.”

She ordered five, which came in the smallest cups I’d ever seen. I was dismayed, since it was very likely that I’d need to drink about eight of these to satisfy my need for caffeine. But it did taste wonderful. I could cope.

Melia turned to Els. “Aello . . . Els, we were worried about you. We heard about Elson’s conflict with Melanthios and feared the worst.”

Good news traveled fast.
 

“And what did you hear about the conflict?” I asked, curious about how it was playing in the Engineer press.

It was Gustav who answered. “We heard that you fought with Melanthios and prevailed. That you removed his glamour upon you and demanded Aello’s safe release. And we heard that you escaped from the Abyss, having been sent there by Aeson. Is this the truth?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I prevailed against Melanthios. I simply caught him by surprise and whacked his pin head a little,” I said, motioning for another cup of coffee. It was the good stuff.

“It’s all true, Gustav.” Els said. “And what’s more, he rescued me from the Abyss.”
 

She recounted a heavily edited version of recent events. The three artsy Engineers seemed impressed, to say the least. Too bad most of what happened was either improv or accident. When Els finished her tale, we sat in silence as they digested what they’d heard.

“Els. I’m sorry you suffered so. Senior forces of Law collaborating with people such as Aeson is quite troubling. Harming one of our own is shameful,” Melia said. “I wonder what would cause such an alliance.”

“Common sense,” I said.

“Excuse me?” Gustav said.

“I said, ‘common sense’.”

“Yes, I heard you, but I don’t understand.”

Els jumped in. “Gustav, talking to Elson is like drinking cold, stale coffee. There’s little to be said for it.”

It didn’t seem to satisfy him. He became a bit edgy.
 

“We are at war, Elson. The forces of Chaos are a blight upon this world. You know that. How can you say it is common sense for Law to cavort with such wickedness?”

“First of all, Gustav, don’t tell me what I know. Last I checked you hadn’t been inside my head. The place is full, I’d have known if you were in there. Second, I thought you Law types wanted progress through collaboration. But I guess that’s just more propaganda. And third, the problem with this whole deal isn’t Law and Chaos working together, it’s Aeson. He is a very bad egg, Gustav, and not because he works within the realm of Chaos. He’s bad because he’s crossing the line. Nothing is off limits for him. If you’d read the memo, you’d know that.”

“Memo?” Gustav looked around, confused.

“Never mind, Gustav,” Melia said. Then to me, “And why are you ‘in it,’ Elson?”

Now that was a legitimate question, so I calmed down a bit and stowed the sarcasm. It was a straight question and I could give a straight answer.

“Because I’ve been given a job to do, Melia, and I’m doing the best I can. But since I don’t fit into the traditional machines, I have to feel my way--make it up as I go along.”

“Then what is this job you’ve been given?” She asked.

“No idea,” I lied. Things were getting clearer for me. But I still had questions that needed answering. Now was not the time for speculation, given the company.

“You have no idea what your purpose is? What is your Discipline?” Rolf spoke for the first time. He exuded a bit of pity mixed with a smidgen of disgust.

“Don’t have one. I’m what you call a free radical. I go about screwing with everyone, because it seems like the right thing to do.” Everyone but Els looked at me as if I had developed an advanced case of leprosy. “Hey, it’s all I’ve got.”

“Melia,” Gustav said, “we can’t work with him. I think he may be insane.”

“I’m working with him,” Els said. “He’s certainly not lawful, and, at times, he seems very chaotic. But his actions do make a certain kind of crazy sense. He’s saved me from the Abyss, defeated ancient demons that tried to consume me, resisted Aeson and Melanthios, and Diomedes has entrusted a great responsibility to him. And I’m certain that his unusual abilities will be the key to a meaningful resolution to this situation.”

Melia studied me for a moment. “Elson, will you swear allegiance to the Lords of Law?”

“Hell no.” I said without hesitation, but resisted the urge to jump up onto the table and urinate in her coffee. This wasn’t Cleveland, after all. I didn’t think they did that here.

“You oppose Law, then?” She asked.

“Law isn’t the answer, sister. But it’s not the problem, either. I’m pretty sure of that,” I said. “Listen, Melia and company. I didn’t come here looking for partners. I came because Aeson is about to do something very, very bad. So bad, we need to inform a lawful Preceptor so he can call in the troops and save the day. Can you help us or not?”

“You don’t know who I am, do you, Elson?” Melia asked.

Sigh. Here we go again. “Sure I do. You’re the cute artsy-fartsy chick I saw at Aeson’s Gathering. What else is there to know?”

She actually smiled at that. I expected more of the usual ‘you’re an offensive jerk, Elson’ routine.
 

Instead, she said, “I am the Leader of the Discipline of Art, and France is my domain.”
 

Ah. So that explained why she wasn’t schmoozing it up with Melanthios. The tension between France and North America was largely an extension of the tension between the leader of this domain and Melanthios. After meeting Melia, it was easy to see why the tension existed. Melanthios was a rigid militaristic authoritarian. Melia appeared to be more the organic leadership type.
 

“Well, my apologies then,” I said. “Any antagonist of Melanthios is an antagonist of mine . . . wait, that didn’t come out right.”
 

She laughed. It was a musical sound. “I know what you mean, Elson. So, while you need no partners, how can we help you unravel this most unholy alliance between Melanthios and Aeson?”

“We need to see your Preceptor. Tell him what’s going on. Ask for help. Can you get us an audience?”

Melia thought it over for a moment, then said, “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

Of course not. When was it ever that easy? “Why not?” I asked.

“Because the Preceptors are never separated from one another. Anything you tell one will be heard by all.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“The Designers made it clear that
we
should be working together. Even Chaos does not deny it openly. So the Preceptors have vowed eons ago never to work alone. They don’t leave one another’s presence. A meeting with one is a meeting with all.”

“Hold it,” I said, “Aeson’s clearly getting Preceptor approval at least, unless he’s completely lost his mind, and he’s probably getting assistance, too. That means the Preceptors already know about this whole thing.”

“Not necessarily,” Melia said. “They have found ways to subvert one another. History is full of such events, despite the apparent cooperation. I don’t know how, but it happens. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to leverage that fact to our advantage.”

“We don’t need to,” Els said. “All we have to do is make Aeson’s plan public knowledge among the Preceptors. None of them can openly support it. It’ll work either way.”

“So, Melia, can you get us a trip to the big show?” I asked.
 

She looked distant, like she hadn’t heard a word I’d said. I could sense she was communicating with someone. I could almost hear the words. No one else appeared to notice. I stole a glimpse into the ethereal plane to make sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. No one there. But I could sense something stretching from Melia out into the darkness. It was probably something similar to a glamour.
 

In seconds, she snapped out of it. “No need, Elson. You’ve been summoned to the mountain, alone,” she said.

“By whom?” Els asked.

“The Preceptors have commanded that Elson appear in their presence. This is rare. But good news, no?”