“Where is Sepulthrove?” Hornkast demanded.
“With the Pontifex,” said Dilifon. “He was summoned to the throne-room an hour ago. The Pontifex has begun to speak once more, so we have been told.”
“Strange that I was not notified,” said Hornkast.
“We knew that you were receiving a message from the Coronal,” Shinaam said. “We thought it best you not be disturbed.”
“This is the day, is it not?” Narrameer asked, leaning tensely forward, running her fingers again and again through her thick, lustrous black hair.
Hornkast nodded. “This is the day.”
“One can hardly believe it,” said Dilifon. “The farce has gone on so long it seemed it might never end!”
“It ends today,” said Hornkast. “Here is the decree. Quite elegantly phrased, in truth.”
Shinaam, with a thin rasping laugh, said, “I would like to know what sort of phrases one uses in condemning a reigning Pontifex to death. It is a document that will be much studied by future generations, I think.”
“The decree condemns no one to death,” said Hornkast. “It issues no instructions. It is merely a proclamation of the Coronal Lord Valentine’s grief upon the death of his father and the father of us all, the great Pontifex Tyeveras.”
“Ah, he is shrewder than I thought!” Dilifon said. “His hands remain clean!”
“They always do,” said Narrameer. “Tell me, Hornkast: who is the new Coronal to be?”
“Hissune son of Elsinome has been chosen.”
“The young prince out of the Labyrinth?”
“The same.”
“Amazing. And there is to be a new Lady, then?”
“Elsinome,” said Hornkast.
“This is a revolution!” cried Shinaam. “Valentine has overturned Castle Mount with a single push! Who can believe it? Who can believe it? Lord Hissune! Can it be? How do the princes of the Mount accept it?”
“I think they had little choice,” Hornkast replied. “But let us not concern ourselves with the princes of the Mount. We have our own tasks to carry out, on this our final day of power,”
“And thanks be to the Divine that it is,” said Dilifon.
The Ghayrog glared at him. “You speak for yourself alone!”
“Perhaps I do. But I speak also for the Pontifex Tyeveras.”
“Who seems to be speaking for himself this day, eh?” said Hornkast. He peered at the document in his hand. “There are several curious problems that I must call to your attention. For example, my staff has so far been unable to locate any description of the proper procedure for proclaiming the death of a Pontifex and the ascension of a new one, it having been so long since such an event has occurred.”
“Very likely no one now alive has any experience of such things,” said Dilifon. “Except the Pontifex Tyeveras himself.”
“I doubt that he will aid us in this matter,” Hornkast said. “We are searching the archives now for details of the proclamation of the death of Ossier and the ascension of Tyeveras, but if we can find nothing we will have to invent our own ceremony.”
Narrameer, eyes closed, said in a low, faraway voice, “You forget. There is one person who was present on the day of the ascension of Tyeveras.”
Hornkast looked at her in amazement. Ancient she was, that everyone knew; but no one knew how ancient, except that she had been the imperial dream-speaker as far back as anyone recalled. But if she had indeed survived out of the reign of Tyeveras as Coronal, she was older even than he imagined; and he felt a shiver go down his back, he who had thought he was himself far beyond the age when anything could cause surprise.
“You remember it, then?” he asked.
“I see it through the mists. It is announced first in the Court of Columns. Then in the Court of Globes, and then in the Place of Masks; and after that, it is declared in the Hall of Winds and the Court of Pyramids. After which, it is announced one final time at the Mouth of Blades. And when the new Pontifex arrives at the Labyrinth, he must enter at the Mouth of Blades and journey down through the levels on foot. That I remember: Tyeveras striding with immense vigor through huge crowds that called his name, and he walked so fast that no one could keep pace with him, and he would not halt until he had traversed the whole Labyrinth to its lowest level. Will the Pontifex Valentine display such energy, I wonder?”
“That is the second curious matter,” said Hornkast. “The Pontifex Valentine has no immediate plans for taking up residence in the Labyrinth.”
“What?” Dilifon blurted.
“He is now at the Isle, with the former Lady and the new Coronal and the new Lady. The Pontifex informs me that it is his intention to go next to Zimroel, in order to bring the rebellious provinces under his control. He expects this process to be a lengthy one, and he urges me to postpone any celebration of his ascension.”
“For how long?” Shinaam asked.
“Indefinitely,” said Hornkast. “Who knows how long this crisis will last? And while it does he will remain in the upper world.”
“In that case,” said Narrameer, “we may expect the crisis to last as long as Valentine lives.”
Hornkast glanced toward her and smiled. “You understand him well. He detests the Labyrinth, and I think will find every pretext to avoid dwelling in it.”
Dilifon shook his head slowly. “But how can that be? The Pontifex must dwell in the Labyrinth! It is the tradition! Never in ten thousand years has a Pontifex lived in the upper world!”
“Never has Valentine been Pontifex, either,” Hornkast said. “I think there will be many changes forthcoming in his reign, if the world survives this war the Shapeshifters wage against it. But I tell you it matters little to me whether he lives in the Labyrinth or in Suvrael or on Castle Mount. My time is over; as is yours, good Dilifon, and yours, Shinaam, and perhaps even yours, my lady Narrameer. Such transformations as may come hold little interest for me.”
“He must dwell here!” said Dilifon again. “How can the new Coronal assert his power, if the Pontifex is also apparent to the citizens of the upper world?”
“Perhaps that is Valentine’s plan,” Shinaam suggested. “He makes himself Pontifex, because he can no longer avoid it, but by remaining above he continues to play the active role of a Coronal, reducing this Lord Hissune of his to a subordinate position. By the Lady, I never thought him so crafty!”
“Nor I,” said Dilifon.
Hornkast said, shrugging, “We have no idea what his intent may be, except that so long as the war continues, he will not come to this place. And his court will follow him about: for we are all relieved of our posts, in the moment when the succession occurs.” He looked slowly about the room. “And I remind you that we have been speaking of Valentine as Pontifex, when in fact the succession has not yet occurred. That is our final responsibility.”
“Ours?” said Shinaam.
“Would you shirk it?” Hornkast asked. “Then go: go, take to your bed, old man, and we will do our work without you. For we must move on to the throne-room now, and discharge our duty. Dilifon? Narrameer?”
“I will accompany you,” Shinaam said dourly.
Hornkast led the way: a slow procession, a parade of antiquities. Several times it was necessary to wait while Dilifon, leaning on the arms of two burly aides, paused for breath. But at last they stood outside the great door of the imperial chamber; and once more Hornkast slipped his hand into the recognition glove and touched the door-opening device, a task that he knew he would never perform again.
Sepulthrove stood beside the intricate life-support globe that housed the Pontifex.
“It is very strange,” the physician said. “After this long silence, he speaks again. Listen: he stirs now.”