flying horses and galloping limbs. Few perceive the truth of it.
Pellaz called to her: Keep the image strong. Hold it steady. It is Astral’s guidance instrument.
It was difficult to do that. Mima was having enough trouble trying to keep hold of her identity, so that she did not disintegrate into a billion motes of consciousness and scatter. Think, she told herself. Remember Lileem the harling. Remember her laughter. She couldn’t keep one image in her head, but she relived many moments. In some ways, it was easier to offer Astral the feeling of her love for Lileem and into this, she poured her entire intention. This was the true beacon. In the midst of its pearly cloud, she thought, we have never been chesna, and we never will be, but we are sisters in skin and we share a history. I am coming for you, Lee. I will bring you back.
Then she saw it: a beautiful azure blue light in the maddening chaos of the otherlanes. It hung up ahead like a star. It was the light of Lileem’s spirit. It was a lantern in a window in a tall dark tower. It was the great gout of radiance over a stormy sea that guided ships to dock. It was the candle of hope lit every evening high in a fortress, to show a rescuer where the princess was imprisoned. And Astral flew towards it.
Ever since she and Terez had tried, and failed, to get back home, Lileem had devoted herself to studying in the underground library. She had no means of writing anything down, so she had to memorise the symbols she saw. Terez spent his time exploring the great building above, seeking evidence of who might have built it and why. Occasionally, he went off into the landscape, searching for other buildings. He discovered that the purple sun revealed things in the chambers of the great pyramid. He’d occasionally seen what might have been furniture – strange objects. It was difficult to tell. Once, he’d found a room with painted walls. Images of birds surrounded him. When he and Lileem met up, usually by accident if she’d decided to come up from below for a while, he’d tell her what he’d discovered. But they met infrequently. Sometimes, Lileem didn’t see him for what felt like years. They no longer existed in time, and when Lileem looked down at herself, she thought she might be becoming insubstantial, like a ghost. She and Terez had died, and this world they were in, it might be hell, because it was so lonely and so desolate, but Lileem could not see hell in a place where there was so much knowledge. She knew that Terez was unhappy, and maybe she could be too, if she thought about it, but mostly she was driven purpose. Everything that had gone before, her old life, no longer mattered.
She could only examine the stone books on the lower shelves of the library, because she could find no means to access the upper shelves, which towered at least a hundred feet over her head. But even so, she had enough to occupy her for an eternity. When she finally came across a book that she could read, she felt she had been rewarded for her industry and application. It slid out from the stack and she experienced a chill – the first physical sensation for an aeon. She saw the name of Aruhani, carved in stone.
Lileem pressed a hand against the word. The sight of it kindled memories of her old life. The book was covered in words, symbols and pictures. The name might be coincidence, because in this place she would come across anything that had ever been thought of eventually, but below the word she saw an image of the dehar, almost exactly how Flick had described him. There was a symbol too and she realised it was a summoning glyph.
The words and markings were so tiny, and so many were crammed onto the stone, it was difficult to interpret them. First, she looked for other familiar words and was not surprised to find Miyacala and Lunil, but was pleased to discover Agave, who she’d invented as a child, and in adult life had considered not to be a bona fide dehar. But there were so many others: thousands. Mima felt excitement. She thought of Flick. She wanted him to know about this.
But he never will, she thought. That is why this is hell. I