Eden's Jester (24 page)

“No,” I said.

“Why? I thought that’s what we wanted, at least a minute ago,” Els said.

“Because a minute ago it was our idea. Now it’s someone else’s. That’s bad mojo,” I said.

“I don’t see why,” Gustav said. “It is an honor to be summoned. Few get such a call. Why is it a problem?”

“Because, Gustav, in all the time I’ve been around, no one has ever summoned me just to say thanks. It’s clearly some kind of trap. If I go, I’ll be stepping into it like never before.”

“So you’re not going?” Els accused.
 

“Are you kidding? Of course I am. I’ve wanted to give these bozos a piece of my mind for a thousand years. Now is my big chance.”

“Elson, don’t,” Els said.

I stood up. “This is it, sister. Destiny calls. Or some fat guy on a throne in an ivory tower, anyway. Who am I to refuse such a call?”
 

What does one wear to meet with the most powerful beings known? I straightened my tee-shirt and looked it over. Yosemite Sam had acquired a coffee stain on his coat.
 

It was perfect.

Melia and I were left alone at the café while Els and the others left to figure out how best to get the word out concerning Aeson’s plan.
 

“So how do I get there?” I asked.

“I’ll take you,” Melia answered.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be associated with me, Melia. You seem nice enough--for a lawyer, anyway. No reason for you to get me all over you.”

She ordered another cup of coffee. She was clearly tense. What made the master of France nervous?

“I’m not a lawyer, Elson. I’m an artist. And a leader.” She dropped a rough chunk of brownish sugar into her coffee and stirred it around. “If you’re right, things are going to get ugly. I don’t like ugly, and I don’t believe in the no-pain-no-gain mantra of Chaos. But that’s not what really worries me.”

“Oh? And what worries you, Melia?”
 

“You do.”

Like I didn’t see that coming. “Yeah. I worry me too. So what?”

“As an artist, I see things differently than most. Things don’t have to be neat to make sense to me. I can perceive and appreciate beauty that might appear to be without structure. Form doesn’t always mean symmetry, and sometimes the function that it follows is in itself strange and beautiful. People such as Melanthios can only see symmetrical, utilitarian forms. They assume the functions those forms follow must be the same way: linear and sterile. It is not so.”

“There’s nothing linear and sterile about me,” I said. “There’s barely anything sanitary about me.”

“Indeed. I sense that your form follows your function. It is your function that worries me. What could it be?”

“I’ve been wondering that for some time, myself. Believe me, Melia, if I knew, I’d tell you. Right now, I’m all about stopping Aeson. There’s no reason for me to keep it hidden from you.”

She studied me. “I believe you. So, what do you know?”

I told her about my awakening, leaving out the cave and its contents. There was something comforting about her. Something non-threatening. Perhaps my long exposure to Melanthios made her cuddly by comparison.

“And what were your instructions, those two words that you speak of?”

I told her.

“That is all?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Ah. I understand your confusion. The answer lies in the identity of your creator.”

“It would seem,” I said.

“Then I will help you. Misguided or not, I believe you are trying to be faithful to that one. And that one must be a great one, to create such an Engineer, or any Engineer for that matter.”

I didn’t say anything. Her quiet confidence honored and shamed me at the same time.

She finished her coffee. I let mine lie.
 

“It is time. I’ll take you as far as the foot of the mountain. From there, you’ll have to enter alone.”

“Sounds peachy,” I said.

CHAPTER TWENTY

When Melia said we were going to the mountain I thought it was a metaphor. As it turns out the Preceptors actually do hang out on a mountain—Mount Megiddo in the Middle East, to be precise. I suppose it made sense. The area had been referred to as the Navel of the World for centuries. It was generally equidistant from all the major civilizations in the east and the west. But I was disappointed. I had expected an office building with a big board room.
 

I looked at Melia. She shrugged.

At the foot of the mountain, there was a path. It was dirt, perhaps four feet wide. Shrubs and wild olive trees threatened to overgrow and obscure the trail, as it zigzagged up the steep climb. The hiss of wind that blew hot dust in my face was the only sound in the barren place. I looked up the path, but lost sight of it as it wound its way through crag and crevice, under branch and bush. My eyes were led to the top of the mountain. Its peak was shrouded in dark clouds. There was rain, but none of it was making it down to the base. Great. Not that I needed any further foreshadowing of what awaited me at the top. All that was missing was a swirling vortex spouting lighting.

 
“The Preceptors await you at the top,” Melia said. “We part here. Farewell, Elson.”

“That’s it? I just go up? I don’t have to answer three questions to get in or anything?”

She smiled. “Not to get in. But you may have to answer some difficult questions to leave.”
 

“That’s just fine,” I said. “Okay. I guess I’ll be on my way. See you soon.” I started up the path.

“Elson.”

I stopped and turned.

“It is important that you gain the support of the Preceptors in dealing with Aeson.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m going up there.”

“Is it? Are you sure there are no other reasons?”

The wind picked up at the base of the mountain. The place smelled like ash. I couldn’t see any source that would make it smell that way, but it did. The mountain reminded me of a forest after a fire. Soot. But no such blackness was evident to the eye.

“I need to get a look at them, Melia. I need to see their faces and know for certain whether they really care.”

“You’re going to judge them,” she said.

I shrugged. “They need to help. If they don’t, their actions will judge them. I won’t need to. But I’ll give them a kick in the balls, just for good measure.”

“They’ve been running things for eons, Elson. I fear such a purpose is foolishness. You have to put aside your grievances and gain their support. It is the only way.”

“Melia, I’m going to reveal Aeson’s plan. If that doesn’t convince them, nothing I could say would. I understand what you’re saying. None of it makes a difference, that’s all. So don’t sweat it. I won’t.”

It was true. I was walking into a situation I couldn’t control any more than I could control myself, so why try?

She shook her head. “I wish you well, and good-bye.” I guess she didn’t think I’d be coming back.

Melia left me there with only the wind to keep me company. I turned toward the path and stopped. The little voice in my head, the one that usually rejoiced at such moments, was urging caution. It didn’t do that often, which made me consider my options. But the more I thought it over, the more I realized that I had none. If Aeson were able to free those demons it would be a mess that the world hasn’t seen since the last time they were free. Images from my cave, of the battle between the Patron and the Host of Heaven, came to mind. Every detail was etched there. Something about it nagged at me. Something was amiss but I couldn’t see what. Well, keeping the Preceptors waiting probably wouldn’t help my case.

The path was ill kept. Thorny bushes encroached at every turn, obscuring the terrain and making it impossible to know how far it was to the top. Rocks the size of softballs tumbled down the path as I kicked them loose. The wind in the branches drowned out the sound of my steps crunching along the path.
 

Only thorns and thistles grew in this place. Not a single flowering or fruit-bearing plant was in sight. There were no animals or insects.
 

Even the bushes were twisted and gnarled. You’d think that the most powerful beings on the planet could afford a groundskeeper.
 

The dirt was dry. My feet quickly became covered with a gritty dust. As the grade steepened, I had to lean forward more and more. Soon I was forced to crawl on my hands and knees up the dirty, hard path. Eventually I ascended into the clouds and the dirt turned to mud. Visibility was further hampered by mist and rain mixed with swirling dust.
 

This place sucked.

The path opened into a clearing right below the peak. I strained to look up from my hands and knees and saw huge feet. In front of me stood two statues of men with noble bearing. One held a sword with the point between his feet. The other held a scepter across his chest. Their heads were hidden by the mist. The red rock of the peak had been carved to form a great arch, which these two guarded from either side. Within the arch was a monstrous door, perhaps one hundred feet tall. It was slightly ajar. The wind had piled a formidable mound of dirt against the door, indicating that it had not moved—either to open further or close--for a long time. The ground was hardened and flat near the small opening.
 

Before I could get to my feet, a figure slipped between the doors and approached me with a smile. It was Aeson.

Man, did I hate this guy.

“Hello, Elson. It is so good to see you. Come to see the Preceptors have you?”

“So it would seem.” I said as I got to my feet. There’d be no groveling at this boob’s feet.

“Ah, very good. They are waiting. Apparently, they desire the company of us both. A splendid day for it too, don’t you think?”

Seeing Aeson turn up unexpectedly was becoming commonplace. Him being happy to see me was just wrong.
 

I looked around the mountaintop. The only thing here was the arch, which I guessed led down into a chamber within the mountain.
 

“Who are they?” I asked, gesturing toward the statues.

“They? They are the Designers. They guard this place, the center of all that happens on this world.”

“Really? Why the sword?” I asked.

“Excuse me?”

“The sword. Why would creatures like the Designers need a sword?”

“Elson, your strange, deranged mind is always preoccupied with trivialities. It is a symbol of their might and duty.”

“Huh. Seems like beings as powerful as the Designers would be the kind that would think ahead. You know, plan around the need for the sword.”

Aeson shook his head. “Really, Elson. I would expect even you to be impressed with the gravity of this place. Your mind wanders like that of a child. You have come to see the Preceptors. Why worry about mere decoration?”

I wished I could see the faces of these Designers. But the mist obscured them completely.
 

I turned to Aeson.

“Aeson, you know why I’m here. I’m going to squeal on you. I’m going to sing like a bird, then they’ll stick you like a pig. You sure you want to be around for that?”

“Believe me, my dear Elson, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Obviously he had planned for this just as Diomedes had warned. My mind raced to trace the possible outcomes of the next few moves. He could be bluffing, but I doubted it. It was likely that some of the Preceptors already knew what he was up to. We had assumed that others did not. We had assumed that some would see the raw, primal danger of his plan.

The images from my cave flashed in front of me. The story of the battle to enslave the demons kept coming to the forefront. Then it hit me. That war wasn’t the Schism. All the Hosts of Heaven, all the Engineers, were on the same side. It wasn’t Law verses Chaos, it was everybody against the Patron.

“The demons, your buddies in the Abyss--the Preceptors created them, didn’t they?” I said.

His expression didn’t change. He seemed as happy as ever.

“True. They are a versatile tool for both Law and Chaos.” Aeson smiled that oily smile that I hated so much. He was enjoying this.

“Chaos I can understand. But how could Law ever use such beasts?”

He laughed. “Law always appreciated their special talents far more than Chaos, my friend. Those demons, as you call them, help them maintain control. They make wonderful enforcers and have many special talents. Believe me, you have no idea.”

Yeah. That didn’t surprise me, now that I thought about it. Any de facto association of good and evil with Law and Chaos went right out the window.

“And you found a way to free them. You must be the hero up here on high.”

“My status has not suffered, I admit. Since the ability to recreate the Apolloi--that’s what they’re officially called--was taken from the Preceptors, the creatures were believed a lost asset. Now . . .” He shrugged.

“So, why do they want to see me? I don’t have anything to say that they don’t already know.”