Into a Dark Realm (32 page)

“The Dasati?”

“Yes,” said Macros. “This world had its own Chaos Wars, or something much like them, but in that struggle one god emerged victorious over all the rest. That god is now simply known as His Darkness; but he is the Dasati God of Evil. Look around you, Pug. This is what Midkemia might become in a thousand years if the Nameless One ever gains supremacy in Midkemia.”

“Incredible,” said Pug.

“The Dasati were not always as you see them, I believe. I will say that even at their best they would be unwelcome guests in Midkemia, for many reasons, not the least of which would be their ability to simply wilt grass by standing on it for too long a period of time.

“Moreover, they are aggressive to the point of making mountain trolls look mild-mannered.” Macros chuckled. “Some of the things I do remember from my previous life…” He sighed. “When I was reborn, I was allowed to keep some memories, enough so that I had a frame of reference for the work I need to do.

“I am the Gardener. I am tending a very delicate, very vulnerable flower.”

“The White?”

“Yes, the White. Nothing ever dies, Pug. It just changes. Nothing is destroyed. It is just changed to another state, from matter to energy, energy to mind, mind to spirit.

“It’s vital you know that, because when this is over, you’re going to feel a great sense of personal loss, I fear.”

Pug said only, “So I have been warned.”

Macros stood and began to pace. “Long ago, when this world’s Dark God rose to permanence, the other gods were hunted down and imprisoned. These people, the Dasati, were warped and changed and perverted until all memory of good as we know it was lost.

“That is what the White does, it nurtures little pockets of good where it can. We have obvious members, like the Attenders who are despised for their tiny impulse to care for others, and some not so
obvious members, including highly placed Deathknights and a few prelates among the Deathpriests.”

“Macros, I came here because there is a threat to Midkemia. What is it?”

“There is no rational reason in two universes for the Dasati to wish to invade the first level of reality, Pug. You know that.”

“Nakor is of the opinion that evil is by nature insane, even if it acts with purpose.”

“In our realm—” Macros stopped. “In your realm, that is most certainly true. Here?” He shrugged, a very human gesture. “I have only been a Dasati for thirty years, Pug, as best I can judge—the time difference is difficult.”

“You’ve been gone closer to fifty,” said Pug.

Macros looked tired. “I came to consciousness as a young Dasati boy, ready to do battle to claim his father’s honors. For nearly a year I watched from within another’s mind, and then gradually we blended, and his nature was subsumed into mine.

“I know relatively little of what the gods of Midkemia are capable of here. Which is why you are here, as their agents. But somehow an evil trick was played—”

“Ban-ath,” said Pug. “Kalkin.”

“The Trickster?” Macros nodded. “Yes, this sort of thing is what we might expect. I am Dasati, yet I am human. I have the mind of Macros the Black—who was, I might say with some lack of modesty, one of the most powerful beings in Midkemia; yet here I found myself barely more than a boy, and most of my powers were gone.”

“But not all of them?”

“No. I’ve regained some of them, and retrained myself. It took all my abilities to hide that fact, or I would have become a Deathpriest, or a corpse.

“I’ve recruited others like myself; like Martuch, my first student and my best. Even though he is nearly ten years older than me, he looks to me for guidance. And he is the first Dasati who ever displayed what I would call compassion.”

“The story of Lady Narueen and Valko.”

“Yes,” said Macros. “He is the one who with the help of an Ipiliac wizard readied us for this journey. When he contacted me, I had many questions, and some will have to wait, but first and foremost I must know: did you find the Talnoy?”

“Yes, we found them all.”

“Good, for here is the important part of what is coming.

“The Dark God is seeking to find his way into the first plane of reality, to extend his domain. The first rift into Kelewan was an accident, and the Deathpriests are not the researchers that you or the Tsurani are, but they persevered, using the experience of each rift formed to refine and improve their search for a way into the first circle. The Deathpriests sent…scouts, little homunculi, with wards to provide energy to stabilize their rifts. They were all closed, but one. Someone on the other side helped them, if you can imagine anyone mad enough to do such a thing.”

“Leso Varen,” said Pug with a sinking feeling. “He’s mad enough.”

“Tell me of him later. Now the Dasati have a foothold on Kelewan. The massed might of the Assembly may hold them at bay for a while, Pug, but eventually the Dasati will sweep into the first circle of reality and overrun that world; then they will find Midkemia, and from there, who knows how many other worlds?

“The balance between the first and second plane of reality is already tipping—Delecordia shouldn’t exist at all, but it does. If the Dark God of the Dasati reaches Midkemia, the balance will be destroyed. The first and second planes of reality will collapse into…something else, and billions will die.”

“I’m not sure I fully understand, Macros. The Dasati are already there. The Dark God’s agents have reached Kelewan. So if this dire event was to happen, it would have happened already.”

“You don’t understand, Pug. The Dark God isn’t a spiritual abstraction who can manifest his or her persona for a short period of time, like those you’ve encountered on Midkemia.

“The Dark God is a monstrous being living in a vast hall at the heart of this world. He is an eater of souls and the devourer of hundreds of sacrifices every day. He is real, corporeal, and he lives to destroy.” He looked at Pug. “I have agents in high places, but not enough. I believe the Dasati are mustering for an invasion. There is much going on in this city and across the Twelve Worlds that tells me a massive mobilization is about to commence.”

Pug nodded slowly.

Macros sat down next to him. “The Talnoy. What do you know of them?”

“Tomas remembers Ashen-Shugar facing them, when the Valheru tried to raid into the second realm. We were told by Kalkin that they contain the spirit of a Dasati who had been murdered in order to provide life energy to make it a killing machine.”

“Partially true,” said Macros. “What should be obvious, but perhaps isn’t, is that all Dasati magic is a form of necromancy. All their energy comes from killing. If you remember what Murmandamus did during the Great Uprising, that was but a hint of what the Dasati achieve every day.

“Thousands of children are killed in purges every year, and that energy is seized by Deathpriests when they can, and those souls are imprisoned.” Macros paused. “But the Talnoy are not what you think. There are ‘Talnoy’ in the service of the TeKarana and his princes, the Karanas, but they are there to keep the battle societies in check. They are really handpicked soldiers in false armor, and they only appear on specific days for special events.”

“But the ones on Midkemia?”

“Those were hidden there. They are the real Talnoy.”

“Who hid them?”

“That is a mystery. If I knew in the past, I do not seem to know now. Perhaps that memory will return. Or perhaps we will find out in the future, but for the moment this is what you must know about those creatures: the Talnoy are not machines powered by the spirits or souls of slain Dasati. They are slaves, confined in bondage that has
lasted millennia; for the spirits that inhabit them are not Dasati, but rather are the ten thousand lost Dasati gods.”

Pug was rendered almost speechless. “Gods?”

“Like the Midkemian gods, they do not die easily. And even when they are dead, they seem intent on not staying that way.

“There are many hours ahead in which we can speculate, but for now this is what I believe: the Dark One wishes to get to Midkemia for the sole purpose of destroying them, and he will think nothing of obliterating the entire planet to do so.”

Pug whispered, “And we must stop him.”

Macros nodded. “Yes.”