We’re almost at Moss Harbor when I get a chatburl from Manan. You can always tell who’s calling by the shape of the burl. Cillian’s whorl, for example, feels like a rock caught in the root ball. Manan’s is so delicate, like ripples in the flow of sap.
My thoughts haven’t been with them, Manan and Thomas, my closest buds, and so this contact makes me feel a little guilty. I keep thinking about Lord and Defender, my ancient companions. It’s funny how few others feel the strength of those ties: Ailann and Cillian, Manasseh and Stephen. Everyone else just seems to have forgotten. But I remember, even though Darius tactfully interrupted the story of Goliath’s origin to spare me. Maybe my loyalty to them is why it took me a long time to get close to anyone.
When are they going to emanate? I’ve studied the correspondence charts, and I think I’ve figured out their names: Alexander, meaning “defender of men,” and Dominic, meaning “lordly.” Pretty obvious, really. I was hoping they’d be in this group.
You’d better see this, says Manan. He shows me an image, one so absurd that it takes a moment to sink in. It’s the Swan Boat – and it’s stuck halfway up the side of Mt. Ouroboros.
My own chatburl is blunt, like a fist: What the hell?
It’s a good thing that all the Canopus emanations were in New Merenis at the time, says Manan. Although it would have been useful to know how it got there.
I think we have a bigger problem: getting it back into the sea.
Solomon jumps into the conversation. Canopus went through a wormhole. Normally, it stays within the Domha’vei, or occasionally, it goes with Tara to the colonies. If the Swan Boat is the physical manifestation of Canopus in the pleroma, like, for example, the Yggdrasil Tower is the physical manifestation of Yggdrasil…
I get where he’s going with this, and it doesn’t make me happy. The Swan Boat normally stays harbored in New Merenis; sometimes it travels on its own in the nearby coastal area, or between New Merenis and Ashvattha Isle. Maybe it’s affected by the physical location of the penjing, which, in turn, is affected by whatever is going on outside. I wish I had coherent information from the emanation, but Tielo is a lost cause. Keeping Tara safe in here is a futile gesture if we’re not safe out there.
I have to place my trust in the Mover’s infallible n’aashet n’aaverti. Previously infallible. Because now we’ve got holes in the pleroma. Now we’ve got untested branches – we’ve got new members of the collective, which are literally an expansion of the mind of our god. Who knows how that could affect our reasoning?
No wonder I’m nervous.
There’s no problem finding the caves – we just follow the signs. It seems like they’re the big attraction in Moss Harbor.
« The achievement is to get through the caves without killing anything, » says Templeton.
« Then it’s probably a tough one, » I reply, placing my hand on Yves’ shoulder. « It’s always more difficult when your enemy is out to kill, and you have to reign yourself in. But it’s an important discipline. Of all emanations, only Cillian and Suibhne are allowed to kill other sentients. »
« Isn’t Patrick? » asks Roan.
« We don’t discuss that. »
Pallav is standing at the foot of the cave. « I doubt there are any enemies in here, » he says. « A lot of plants, fish, microbes…the place is teeming with life. »
He’s right. I don’t smell anything hostile at all. « Then it’s easy. I don’t get it. »
« It’s pitch dark, » says Tara.
« That’s true. I suppose you’ll need to be careful not to fall. »
« That’s not what I meant. If it’s pitch dark, you could easily step on something and kill it. A bug. Don’t you get it? These achievements haven’t been dangerous at all – they’re more like riddles. »
I inhale deeply. « I can’t smell anything. On the outside this would be so easy for me, but in here – the Mover won’t allow it. »
« I can sense where the living things are, » says Pallav. « I think my gift allows me to do it. »
Believable, says Solomon. As we just demonstrated, nul-energy interacts with bioenergy. Pallav is probably the emanation sensitized to that interaction.
« Someone could put his hand on my back and follow exactly in my footsteps. I’ll make sure we don’t accidentally kill anything. So who’s going? »
« I’m afraid not, » says Sundar. « I’d sully my robes. »
« Talk about precious. »
« It’s about maintaining the honor of my order, » Sundar replies. « To treat the robes casually implies disrespect. »
« I’m not going either, » says Simon. « It looks creepy. »
« I’ll go, » says Yves. « I feel an affinity for shadowy places. Unless Templeton wants to – he has seniority. »
Templeton frowns. « A part of me really wants to do it, to finally join the collective. But a larger part of me says that I don’t feel drawn to this, and Yves is the more suitable choice. »
Pallav and Yves disappear into the cave. I’d better see what’s going on. I find the place in Pallav’s branch where he is recording his experiences.
As they proceed into the interior of the caverns, the walls start to glow with a faint phosphorescent light. I look more closely – the stalactites are made of pos-matter. That confirms a breech into the nul-universe.
Racing up the walls are rainbow-colored trilobites which shoot electricity between their antennae. Their movements form geometric patterns of surprising beauty. Pallav comes to a halt, marveling at the light of life, while Yves stares into the shadows.
Keep moving! I urge.
They emerge into the central cavern, where moss hangs from the ceiling and covers the rocks. In the center is a pool glowing with tiny sparks. That’s it. That’s the source of the leak.
Yves crouches near the water. « Those flashes of energy…that’s what you’re talking about? We were like that? »
Pallav nods. Then something else catches my eye. It’s a large ovoid gemstone, and it isn’t made from any material familiar to me. It radiates an odd, opalescent light, which might mean that it’s a new element from the nul-universe. Pallav, can you get that rock without disturbing anything? I’m sure that Ethan would want to have a look at it.
The exit isn’t far from the pool. A few moments later, when they emerge, the announcement is made:
“The Honorable Yves Devereux, Shadow Minister of Skarsia. 70th to emanate, 48 in the color scale, resonates to 223. 1.788 meters tall, cock size 16.91 cm when erect, apparent age 24. Occupation unknown. Totem is Taxus baccata, the European yew, fixed star is Lesath, the sting, also called the peeper. Esoteric symbol is the Etruscan letter 
. Dessert is black sesame gelato with nau’gsh vinegar sorbet. Function is visionary initiation, proto-conscious tendency is obscurity, designated Yew. Blazon is chocumber, a yew branch, proper.”
The shock of the realization hits Yves so hard that he falls backward into the water. « Shadow minister, » says Tara, reaching a hand to steady him. « Think of Roan’s prediction and the nature of the achievement. Ash really has a predilection for symbolic correspondences. »
My wife knows me better than I know myself, which is a little disconcerting.
Pallav hands me the stone he collected. It reminds me of obsidian, but the black is flecked with shining emerald, crystals that flicker with the dark light of nul-energy. It’s heavy, smooth, and surprisingly warm from the energy within it. It’s quite beautiful, and if Ethan doesn’t need it for study, Quennel will probably use it for jewelry. I slip it into my pocket and turn to the most important matter of business: sealing off the pool and the sparks inside of it.
Templeton points at the cave entrance. A team of Magellanic penguins is erecting a traffic barrier. One posts a sign which reads, “Attraction under repair. Danger. No trespassing.” Done and dusted, then.
That’s interesting, says Dermot. It would seem to indicate that the pleroma is capable of self-healing, but that emanations are needed for diagnosis.
But we still haven’t found the renegade spark. Maybe it sensed us coming and moved out of the caves. Or maybe it went back into the water, where it belongs.
It’s not in the caves, says Manan. It’s very close to your location, though.
Couldn’t have been the easier of the two options, could it?
We search for maybe a few hours – without timekeepers, there’s no way to know for certain. Finally, Templeton says, « This is futile. Can’t anyone who is recognized sense it? »
« You’d think so, but our ability to sense things that come from our native universe leaves a lot to be desired, » I admit.
« Yes, but your mating instincts are infallible, » says Tara. « Look, I think this is a false alarm. If Ash wanted this rogue spark to be incorporated into the pleroma, there’s no way you wouldn’t find it. »
She has a point.
Right now, our biggest priority is the other holes, says Ailann. If that spark isn’t useful to us, and it isn’t causing any detectable harm, we can sort it out later.
That sort of thinking makes me nervous. Who knows what kind of harm it could cause? But I agree that sealing the other holes is more important.
Templeton studies the map. « Why is there much more detail on it now? »
« The map fills out when recognized emanations visit a new region. It will also record information from the train maps – once you’re on a line, you can see all its destinations. That’s why we didn’t know about Moss Harbor when we started. We caught a different train from the Rainbow Bridges. »
« Well, look at this, » says Templeton. « There’s a line running from here to Celadon, and one of the stops is the Lodehole Mines. »
That’s another quest achievement. Geez, does this guy have them all memorized?
On the train to the Lodehole Mines, Tara takes the opportunity to get more acquainted with Pallav. I wish she’d have done Templeton instead. He really needs to chill out. He’s looking out the window, observing everything, a million calculations going on behind those sharp eyes. In contrast is the quietly self-possessed Sundar, who does not allow anything to disturb his composure. In that regard, he reminds me of Manan, except that Manan is an ascetic. For Sundar, sensuality seems to be a kind of spiritual discipline.
Meanwhile, Roan and Yves are lost in the chatburls, Chand and Simon are huddled together, and if I were Patrick, I’d be working the train car to get those sweet little buds into my soil.
But I’m not Patrick. Manan and Thomas are enough. I’m going to keep to my own, and so I sit with eyes closed, trying to strategize. I was completely wrong about the nature of the achievement at Moss Harbor. Defeat the Lodehole Mine boss? Maybe there’s a labor dispute? For a moment, I envision a penguin picket line.
Ignoramus, chatburls Driscoll. Ugh, I hate when he burls – it tastes like vinegar. Haven’t you ever played a hologame? The “boss” is a terrifying monster many times stronger than the ordinary adversaries. And since this whole quest is structured like a hologame, I think we can assume…
I get it. You can shut up now.
There’s a noise so loud the entire train rattles. « What was that? » asks Templeton, jumping to his feet.
The train is pulling into the station, which is not far from the mine entrance. The mine entrance is blocked by an apparition half the size of the mountain behind it.
It’s a dragon.
A fucking dragon.
« I thought you said this wasn’t going to be dangerous? » asks Templeton.
« I’ve changed my mind. Tara, take those unrecognized emanations back to New Merenis. Pallav, Roan and Yves, let’s see what you guys are made of. »
« Belay that order, » says Tara. « We’re all getting off here. »
« I can’t allow that. »
« It’s obviously the quest achievement, » says Tara. « You’re just being over-protective again. You know the pleroma would never allow it to hurt me. »
I’m not cool with this. Not cool at all.
We get off the train and move towards the entrance of the mine. The miners – Magellanic penguins – are clustered in the main building. « How long has that dragon been here? » I ask.
« A few days, » says the foreman – um, forebird? « It won’t allow us back into the mine, so we’ve had to shut down production. It makes lots of noise and chases us off with blasts of fire, but it hasn’t actually hurt anyone. »
« What exactly do you mine? » asks Templeton.
« These. » The penguin indicates a bin full of pos-matter crystals.
Pos-matter crystals!
« It would be great if those were real, and not a figment of Ash’s imagination, » says Tara.
« Those are real, » says Pallav. « Cyrus is telling me that the mine is another place where the pleroma is in direct contact with the nul-universe. »
« Then that sucker’s really got to go, » says Tara. « Ready-made crystals like this! We could string them along a wormhole to Circinus! »
I decide that now is not the time to mention we would have no way of getting the crystals out into Universe Prime. As our alchemy won’t affect them, the mothman couldn’t reconstitute them when he folded into an emanation.
« Right, » says Templeton. « Let’s draw lots to see who fights the dragon. »
« Not me, » says Simon. « I’m a lover, not a fighter. »
Pallav taps his fingers restlessly on the table. « Hasn’t anyone noticed? Roan, Yves, haven’t you noticed? »
« Noticed what? » asks Templeton.
I look again. I notice. « New game plan, » I announce. « That’s not one of Davy’s puppets. That creature came from outside of the pleroma. »
Roan digs into his divination bag. He pulls out a pair of leaf-shaped tiles. “CuShna, the guardian, and Kamethlece, friend or beloved.”
« It’s one of the rogue sparks, » says Templeton.
« He’s right, » says Roan. « Look at the color of its scales – greengrain. »
As if in reply, the creature snorts and bellows flame.
« I don’t understand, » says Tara. « How could the spark possibly take form inside of Ash’s mind? That’s never happened before. The only thing remotely like these rogue sparks was when Vassali got loose, and he was helpless and disoriented. »
That’s a good question. A very, very good question. Anybody got an answer for that?
The pleroma is produced by the dreaming trees, says Jamey. Perhaps it’s the opposite of when the trees rejected the telepathic attackers by turning the pleroma against them – if the trees accept these sparks, they might be able to manifest here.
« But we haven’t accepted them, » I protest. « More importantly, Tara hasn’t accepted them. »
« That might be why he doesn’t have a human form, » says Tara. « But if the trees like him, I would tend to respect their judgment. »
« Right then, » says Chand, skipping out the door and down the hill towards the mine entrance.
« What are you fucking doing? » I yell after him.
« Negotiating, » he calls. « If the pleroma accepts him, then a violent solution is counter-indicated. »
The creature notices Chand. « I guard the Lodehole Mine, » it roars.
« It can talk? » says Tara. She turns to the forebird. « Why didn’t you mention that? »
« You didn’t ask. »
« You seem to be doing quite a good job of that, » says Chand to the dragon. « Nevertheless… »
« No one shall pass, » the dragon insists.
« Look, my friend… » The dragon replies with a burst of fire, which Chand barely dodges. « Whoa, that was hot, and not in the good way. »
« I guard this place. I alone guard this place! »
« But it is your lucky day! We happen to have a job opening for a mine guardian. Wouldn’t you like to put your skills to use for the good of society? »
The dragon flaps its wings agitatedly. It is clearly confused. « What is society? »
Chand is taken aback. « Um, a structured community, you know, other people… »
« What good is it? »
« I suppose it provides a balance between individual needs and the desire for companionship. »
« Why? »
« Look, why do you want to guard the mine? » asks Chand.
« I found it. It’s mine. »
« Do you like it? Is it a source of fulfilment? »
The dragon tilts its head, regarding Chand as if he is an idiot. I have to say that I see its point. I glance at Pallav and Yves to let them know that we should be ready to move in at any moment should the situation turn nasty. I wonder if it’s too late to call Vassali for backup. It seems down his alley.
« It’s mine, » repeats the dragon.
« Do you need those crystals for something? »
« Crystals? »
« Yes, the ones in the mine that you’re keeping us from reaching, » says Chand, moving towards the entrance.
« No! » the dragon roars, shooting a jet of flame perilously close to Chand’s feet. « Nothing enters the mine. »
« I know, I know, the mine is yours. »
« No, » says the dragon, sweeping its gigantic wings through the air in a possessive fashion. « The mine is not mine. This place is mine. Nothing leaves it. »
« Wait a minute, » says Chand. « This place? You’re talking about the pleroma. But there are already people living here. Are they yours, too? »
The dragon nods.
« I hate to tell you this, but the pleroma already belongs to Tara. »
« What is Tara? »
Chand points wordlessly at the main building. Tara waves from the window.
The dragon takes a step forward. « That’s mine, too. Especially that. »
« You’ve got it backwards, my friend. You’re hers. If you stay here, you belong to her. »
« I’m not leaving. » The dragon’s eyes narrow. « I am the guardian. »
« Absolutely! But we have to take you to New Merenis to make your position official. »
The dragon looks up the hill at Tara again. « Nobody can leave while I’m gone. »
« What happens in the pleroma stays in the pleroma, » says Chand.
“Chand del Shambhah’d, Most Wise Seneschal to Her Eminence. 68th to emanate, 98 in the color scale, resonates to 521. 1.748 meters tall, cock size 16.34 cm when erect, apparent age 26. Social Engineer and Dragon-whisperer. Totem is Pterocarpus santalinus, the red sandalwood or rakta chandan, fixed star is Al Na’ir, the bright. Esoteric symbol is the Minchiate trump La Luna, the moon. Dessert is mooncakes with nau’gsh custard and lotus paste filling. Function is analytic initiation, proto-conscious tendency is reflection, designated Inspiration. Blazon is vanilla, on a pale sable, the man in the moon, vanilla.”
Everybody starts clapping. « Chand, the dragon-whisperer! » shouts Simon.
« Davy had better make a man out of him, » Tara murmurs. « A dragon is a little too kinky, even for me. »