of human form.
Or so it seemed until it spread its wings.
Egdod saw at once that the tempest he had laid over the Knot in ancient times had served its purpose and was no longer of use to him, and so with a wave of his hand he stilled it. In the calm air that followed he spread his wings and took flight, but glided only a short distance to the top of the stone anvil, where Sophia lay dying. He took her dissolving form up into his arms as a mother takes up a baby, and gathered her into his chest.
“Once again our time together is all too brief,” said Sophia to Egdod, though she had lost the power of forming words and could only speak through the connection of their auras.
“The sweeter for that,” Egdod returned. “Know that your sacrifice was not in vain. The Quest is complete.”
“Edda will need rest,” she said, her aura growing very faint.
“She has come to a good place for resting,” said Egdod, “as have you.”
Then the thread of her life was severed.
The sun had now erupted through the broken wall of clouds. It was not the only source of light. El had stood astonished for some while at the sight of the lock opened, the Fastness unbound, and Egdod free in the Land. Now he forsook the form of an ordinary soul walking. He rose into the air and made himself as large as Egdod, that the two of them might converse as beings of equal stature. He grew as well in brilliance, shining with a golden light as that of the sun. Egdod for his part seemed content with the form he had taken at the time of the Fall, which was as dark as the Firmament into which he and the other members of the Pantheon had been projected. For some while neither he nor El spoke. Both were marshaling their forces. Behind El, opposing sides of the Chasm had gone into movement, thickening and bending toward each other. When those two sides touched they would form an arch a hundred times broader than the old bridge. Waiting on its opposite side were Spring upon her mount, and her escort of bears; and behind them marching in a long file down the Shifting Path were legions of Dug she had summoned to arms.
Seeing this El laughed in Egdod’s face. “Shall you and I trifle further about the bridge? You can build it up and I can throw it down for the next thousand years.”
Egdod responded, “I am taking no action in the matter. The changes you see are the work of another who has an interest in such things.” And he looked back toward the Fastness. Atop its highest tower a hooded figure stood, extending his arms and sending forth his power. Besides Pluto, others could be seen now too: Love below on the steps, tending to Edda, who lay spent next to the open lock. Freewander darting high and Thingor limping along the battlements, directing the work of other souls who seemed to be emerging in force from the depths of it, and War marshaling formations of armed and armored souls pouring forth out of chaos from the Firmament, moving in synchrony with wild musics emanating from Pan and an orchestra of music-making souls that Pan had drawn up along a high parapet.
“It is of no account whether your hand or Pluto’s shapes the bridge,” El said. “Even when I walked over the Stormland in the guise of an ordinary soul, alone and unarmed, I swept away Dug like so many insects, and the worst assaults of the Lightning Bears were mere diversions to me. The Chasmian that Spring made to greet me at your front door was a greater foe, I will admit; but it lies broken at the bottom of yonder gorge, and when it climbs out I shall break it again. Only Sophia had power against me; and I can see that she is no more.”
Egdod held out his right hand. Cupped in it was a tiny knot of aura. “That is saying too much,” he answered.
“We may also trifle over words,” said El, “but to put it plainly, your plan has failed.”
“My plan,” said Egdod, “is still unfolding. Pent up for so long in the Fastness, I have learned patience. It is a faculty you have lost, ruling the Land from your high Palace where all things come quickly, and you confuse delay with failure.”
Their sparring