The cavern erupted into cheering and shrieking howls. I pulled Jane to me and held her close as the floor beneath us shook and overhead the stalactites trembled.
“I will lead you,” cried Metatron. “I will lead you in this last holy war, and I will have as navigator the mightiest of our Enemy’s warriors—”
His voice shook as he raised his hands and turned. And that was when I saw him, borne forth by two energumens as though he were a man in flames, his face and body destroyed and encased in scarlet metal. Only his eyes remained to betray who and what he had been: the Ascendant’s greatest hero, the Aviator Imperator Margalis Tast’annin.
“ No! ” His voice rang out, louder even than Metatron’s. My own voice echoed his disbelief. On the platform the six men who were Luther Burdock looked around uneasily. “ Let us go! ”
Metatron only smiled at the Aviator’s fury, and looked past him to where two other figures stood at the edge of the platform. One struggled within her energumen captor’s grip—another Aviator, her face bruised and bleeding but her eyes aflame with hatred. But the other figure stood quite calmly, between two energumens who kept back from her as though afraid. When I saw her, I gasped, because her form was identical to that of Metatron, only encased in shining silver and blue and gold instead of violet and black. And as though she had heard me, she turned, seeming to search through the crowd until her eyes caught mine. Eyes as green and lambent as Metatron’s own; but where his held malice and cunning, hers were mild, seemingly unperturbed by all the chaos around her. Foolishly, I started to speak, as though she might hear me. Indeed, from the way she tilted her head, it seemed she did. But then Metatron’s voice cut through the air, and she turned away again.
“Take him to the elÿon Izanagi and install him as its adjutant.” Metatron pointed at the energumen who held Tast’annin. “Since he was careless enough to kill its navigator, he shall act as mine, and guide us to the stars.”
Tast’annin howled again, but his voice was lost amid the clamor. He fought to turn his head, looking desperately through the crowd; and then his gaze pierced mine. Jane gasped and try to pull me back, but I did not move, only stared at him.
It seemed that the roaring around me grew still. In all that vast space there was only myself and that crimson figure. Of his human visage nothing but a tormented metal mask remained. His eyes were so pale, it seemed all color had fled from them at sight of things more terrible than I could imagine. But what was most frightening was the expression in those eyes. I had seen them to hold only rage and lust to power. But now they gazed upon me pleadingly and with a desperation so awful, I nearly wept. It seemed I heard his voice again, as I had heard it in the Engulfed Cathedral, telling me, “ Even I must serve something …”
It was as though he heard my thoughts. The silence was riven by a great roar as he threw his head back and shouted, “ I will not serve you, Metatron! I will not serve! ”
Metatron laughed. “You have no choice, Tast’annin. None of us have any choice. We all serve a greater master now—”
He pointed at the sky. A few bats still skimmed across the entrance to the cave, flecks of black skating across the moon’s weary face. On the platform the pale blue-robed figures of Luther Burdock looked up, as did everyone around me. It seemed that the moon grew paler; that it faded until it was little more than a blurred cloud floating in endless darkness. For a moment it was as though we stared into some terrible colorless dawn. And then I saw what it was that drove the moon from her rightful place.
At the edge of the sky a radiance appeared, a brilliance that was not white but tinged with blue and red and violet and yellow, like a shattered rainbow hurled into the night. It grew brighter, and brighter still, until I shaded my eyes with my hands and gasped, my voice lost amid a thousand others.
“Behold Icarus!” cried Metatron. “My son in his glory, the burning boy! He comes, he comes. Within weeks he will be here, and the mutilated Earth at last will be freed from its suffering!”
Within the blinding light that filled the sky a point of black appeared, a small ragged core of darkness like an eye or mouth. It did not move or grow larger; only seemed to pulse slightly, like a heart beating within the void of heaven.
“This is crazy !” Jane yelled. Fear and anger tore at her face; anger won, and she pounded her thigh with her fist. “I thought the Aviator was mad, but this—” She grabbed me and began to pull me through the crowd. No one stopped us now; no one noticed us at all. “Come on, Wendy, this is—”
I yanked back from her. “We can’t go,” I said numbly. My eyes remained fixed on the deathly radiance above us. “Don’t you see what that is? Metatron is right—it’s some kind of falling star—where can we go?”
And in answer I felt huge hands close around my arms, and saw Jane fall back into the grip of another energumen.
“You’re to come with us,” it said. I did not fight, and after a moment I saw Jane grow limp as well. She shot me a last desperate glance as they led us from the shouting throng, up the steps to where Metatron stood surrounded by his cloned aides. I tried to shake off my captor’s hands, and looked to see Tast’annin and his two companions being led out through the cave’s entrance. Then the energumen pulled me, until I faced Metatron upon the dais. He looked at me and smiled, his eyes throwing off shafts of jade and emerald where they caught the reflection of Icarus’s brilliance. His voice was mocking as he greeted me.
“ Come with me, ladies and gentlemen who are in any wise weary of London: come with me: and those that tire at all of the world we know: for we have new worlds here.”
Another wave of shouts and snarling cheers rose from the cavern. Metatron stretched out his glowing hand to touch my chin.
“You are very fortunate, Wendy Wanders, to see the new world that awaits us.”
For a long moment he held my gaze, then pushed me away. “Bring them to the Izanagi with Imperator Tast’annin,” he commanded the energumens, and stalked from the platform.
Behind me in the darkness Luther Burdock’s corpse lay cold and still. Above it the empty-eyed forms of his cloned brethren stared impassively into the sky. I turned to where the corpse of the creature who had called herself his daughter was sprawled upon the floor. As I stared, it seemed to move slightly. Then it did move, and with pity and horror I watched as it struggled to turn its head. At my side, Jane’s brown eyes grew wide with rage and compassion.
“It’s not dead yet!—” She looked around for help. “They can’t just leave it, it’s not—”
But then our guards tugged gently at us. Jane’s hand groped for mine as we were led away. A warm wind poured through the cave’s opening, and a rosy light that came from the elÿon fleet.
All about us the air echoed with cries of wonder and terror, as the geneslaves and people of Cassandra gazed into the sky. I walked slowly before my captors, as though I were being taken to see a marvelous surprise and wanted to delay the pleasure. I could see my own shadow in the brilliance cast off by Icarus, faint as though drawn in water. I continued slowly until someone pulled Jane’s hand from mine. Then I was borne by arms larger and stronger than my own, up the rocky slope to the billowing crimson cloud that had swallowed the Aviator Tast’annin. I did not look back, though I heard Jane calling for me, her voice faint as a swallow’s thrown into the throat of a storm: not then, nor when the energumen carried me into the waiting elÿon.