Even through the ice storm and the dimming light from the rapidly-setting sun, Lex could see it. Ice and frost had turned the tower’s tip white; icy fingers reaching halfway down its length before relinquishing their hold back to the black marble. Lex hardly noticed the buildings and streets as he strode towards the tower. The sun had almost set and they could not be late. There might be a penalty or something if they were.
When he at last reached the towering turret, Schmidt wheezing along behind him, Lex was a little concerned that her Ladyship was not there to meet him. The Black Tower stood upon a huge, perfect circle of ice, with a black marble path leading straight to the door set at its base. Instinctively feeling that this was what he must do, Lex made his way across the black path, slipping and sliding where the marble had frozen over. Schmidt did not follow him, perhaps uncertain of his legs on such a treacherous surface, but stood watching at the edge of the ice circle. As Mahara’s dead sun disappeared over the edge of the horizon, Lex lifted the golden knocker and slammed it hard into the black marble door. The echoes rang back to them across the surface of the ice before they were plucked from the ground by the Gods and taken to the top room of Mahara’s Black Tower.
Lex stared round in wonder, still buzzing with the exciting alien sensation of having been transported in such a way. In contrast to the tower’s exterior, the interior was made entirely of white marble. The Goddess of Luck looked most appropriate there in her white dress; her mass of blond hair piled up on top of her head, threaded with pearls.
The top of the tower was an unusual shape, being formed of three circles placed in a triangle so that the outer walls were curved and there was a triangular space in the centre, about ten feet across, beneath which there was no floor and you could see all the way down to the centre of the ice circle over two hundred feet below. The strangely curved walls around them reached above their heads to form a perfect point, confirming Lex’s impression that they were at the very top of the tower. And suspended directly above them was a large crystal ball, rather like a smaller version of the ones Lex had seen in the gaming stadiums.
‘Well done, Lex. I thought you weren’t going to make it in time for a minute there.’
‘By the skin of my teeth, as usual, my Lady,’ Lex said, bowing graciously.
‘ L–Lex? ’ came a voice from behind them. ‘Is that you?’ Lex froze at the sound of the familiar voice. He, Schmidt and the Goddess of Luck were standing in one of the three white circles. Others stood in the remaining two, although Lex had not yet had time to take them all in. But he knew that voice instantly, even though it had been more than a year since he’d heard it, for it was an exact copy of his own. Slowly, he turned round to face his twin brother.
‘Hello, Lucius.’
Not a flicker of surprise or displeasure crossed Lex’s face although, at that moment, he felt both in equal measure. Lucius Trent stared at him across the length of the circular chamber and said nothing. He looked pale and a little sickly. Lex had always been the healthier of the two. Lucius’s brownish-blond hair was longer than Lex’s, reaching down almost to his chin and curling slightly at the ends. Even though Lex had only been with his brother for all of thirty seconds, he could already feel his lip curling in that old expression of contempt. He stifled the impulse quickly. He was disciplined now — he did not let his emotions show on his face any more… It was just that Lucius was so wet. In every sense of the word. So much so that Lex had often found it insulting that they shared the same genetic makeup.
It would have been nice to say that Lex and Lucius had got on once. That the things that happened later were what drove the two of them apart. It would have been nice to say it, but it would have been untrue. Lex and Lucius may have been identical twins, but they were at opposite ends of the personality scale. And that was why they did not get on — and nor had they ever.
‘What are you doing here?’ Lucius asked, looking miserable.
‘Getting ready to play the Game,’ Lex replied with an easy shrug. ‘Or should I say, getting ready to win it? What are you doing here?’
‘I was-’
‘Shut up, Trents. I’m going to announce the Game, now.’
Lex looked at the speaker, who was standing beside Lucius, and his mouth fell open in shock, for it was Jezra — the God of Wit and Daring! Lex had, of course, seen him in paintings and statues, and he had glimpsed him from afar once in the Gods’ box at one of the stadiums, but he’d never seen him up close in real life before. His straight blond hair was shoulder length and he had a rather hawkish nose and very intelligent blue eyes set beneath fair eyebrows. He was wearing his customary pale blue high-necked jacket and stood with a kind of gangly grace. Although he was not good looking — for his nose was too long and his eyes too sharp — he was clever. He was conniving and scheming and shrewd and devious. He was, in fact, everything that Lex had ever tried to be. And to see him standing beside his useless brother put a bad taste in Lex’s mouth beyond all description.
At Jezra’s words, everyone quickly dropped to one knee. Lex distinctly heard Schmidt’s knee click painfully as he knelt down stiffly. The Gods, in the main, were happy to leave people to themselves much of the time. But when they did appear — at the Games, at ceremonies or on special days of celebration — they did expect to be treated as deities and were not above throwing the odd lightning bolt to emphasise the importance of respect if need be.
‘As the current Gaming champion, it is my right to commence this Game and pick the first round.’
As Jezra spoke, his image appeared inside the huge crystal ball suspended above them and Lex knew that it was being broadcast to all the other crystal balls in the stadiums in all the major cities throughout the Globe, including the Wither City. The stadiums tended to be informed of an imminent Game announcement at very short notice — sometimes half an hour or less.
The last time there had been one, Lex had been on his way to work when excited people had started running to the stadiums, pushing and shoving in their eagerness to get there and not miss the start. Lex had longed to go with them and, indeed, had been sorely tempted for some moments to ditch work. But then he had realised that a lot of the younger clerks would be doing just that. If Lex dutifully turned up to the office on a day when many of the staff were skiving off, it could only make him look good. So he had dragged his feet to the dry old law firm, pasted the usual enthusiastic smile on his face and tried to look like he was enjoying sitting at the reception desk when everyone knew full well that there would be no clients that day. He had sat there and thought longingly of the hustle and bustle of the stadiums, the buttery smell of freshly roasted popcorn, the shouts of bookies and the replies of gamblers…
He had no worries about getting a front-row seat this time, he thought with a surge of triumph. There was to be no mere observing with the other spectators, this time he was to be an actual player himself! As Jezra went on, Lex had to resist the urge to stuff his fist into his mouth so that he wouldn’t shriek with glee.
‘I, Jezra, God of Wit and Daring, and the current Gaming champion, hereby commence this Game between we three deities: the Judge, God of Emptiness, shall be using as his player the prophet known as Alistari.’
Lex glanced at the opposite circle and saw the black-robed prophet standing beside the feared, nameless God known only as the Judge. A tall, imposing figure — he was dressed in grey, golden-edged robes and he wore a golden mask shaped with a human’s features. Of all the Gods, the Judge was the only one who refused to show his true face in the Lands Above. No one knew whether he took the mask off in the Lands Beneath, but one thing they did know was that even the other Gods seemed to be a little afraid of him. It was said that his face must be so hideous, so grotesque, so monstrous, that he didn’t want humans to see it. But in some ways that expressionless golden mask was even more terrifying. The gold lips did not move when the Judge spoke, and there was only the thinnest slit for the eyes to look out of. You couldn’t see them. Not unless you really stared, in which case you might have caught a faint glimpse of… something… behind that mask… But no one wanted to look the Judge in the face too closely for fear of what they might see.