“What? Oh, yes, I had that bound last year. But how can you have heard of it? I only had five copies of the work produced and I’m fairly certain I’m the only one to have actually read the thing. Sad, really, seeing as I’m the author. But, like I said, my studies do tend to be confined to the more obscure subjects.”
“Hang on, you’re the… Of course, why didn’t it strike me earlier? You’re Keldren Dremos Enthrold!”
“You have heard of me?”
“Heard of you? Your name is legendary amongst practitioners of sorcery, your works the most prized! I must say that I’m a massive, massive fan. I adore Sea Water: Divination, Transformation and Communication. I practically based my entire study of elemental magic on it!” Kelos saw the blank look on Keldren’s face. “Oh… of course. Sorry, you probably haven’t written that one yet. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Anyway, Dwarven Stone Magic is equally as brilliant.”
Keldren grinned, the delight transforming his face into the features of one more youthful. “I say! I didn’t think anyone cared. It’s marvellous, just simply marvellous, to meet one such as yourself who appreciates my studies. It’s nice to know that I make a difference. My works persevere, even if the elven empire doesn’t.”
“That’s a somewhat pessimistic view to take, don’t you think?”
“It’s true though, isn’t it?” When Kelos didn’t answer, Keldren nodded. “Which bring us to Kerberos. Tell me, what do you know of that most unusual entity?”
Kelos told him of everything he and his companions had been through: how Silus had developed a unique ability to commune with the god; how Kerberos had used its powers to save Twilight from an invasion of the Chadassa, and how they had discovered a more sinister side to the god when they had met Illiun and his band of interstellar refugees. He also told Keldren of the Final Faith, and how it used military fear to enforce belief in Kerberos as a god.
“I have certainly observed the roots of the Final Faith in the humans of our time,” Keldren said. “And I can understand why some may consider Kerberos a god. But the central tenet of the Final Faith is incorrect. Kerberos is not the one true god. Kerberos is just one of what was once a pantheon of beings” — Keldren moved over to one of the bookcases — “and, if I am correct in my supposition, there were twelve such entities.” He reached up and tugged at the spine of a huge book, which shifted a few inches before becoming jammed. “Would you mind…?”
“What? Oh, yes, of course.”
Kelos helped the academic wrestle the mighty tome out of its niche. When they finally freed it, it took the two of them to lug it over to a bookstand. The boards of the cover had become warped, no doubt due to the damp atmosphere, and when Keldren threw open the book, a shower of dead silverfish drifted to the floor.
“Now, where were we? Rather interesting volume, this, you know. Found it in the remains of an ancient ship. Anyway… Ah yes, one of the twelve, but we only know the names of five of the pantheon. Kerberos you know. There are — or rather were — also Chazra-Ney, Rehastt, Faranoon, and Hel’ss. Of these, only Kerberos and Hel’ss remain.”
“What happened to the others? Were they consumed, just as Kerberos consumed the god of Illiun’s homeworld?”
“You’ve hit the nail on the head, my friend. You see, the beings of the pantheon are constantly at war. Academics have speculated, of course, but the origins of this antagonism are simply unknowable. What we do know, however, is that during the course of this conflict several of these beings have consumed each other. In doing so, they grow in power.
“These beings — gods, if you like — thrive on the life energies of the planets they shape. For instance, Kerberos feeds on the energy of the departing souls of this world. So, your Final Faith has something when they say our souls fly to the clouds of Kerberos when we die. Without us, Kerberos’s power would diminish and it would eventually perish, burning out like a dying star. And the conflict is far from over. The two remaining entities covet each other’s creations and the lives that enrich them, and it will only be a matter of time before Hel’ss shows its hand and launches an attack on Kerberos. When that happens, it could mean the end of everything.” Keldren noticed Kelos blanch. “Oh, there’s no need to be alarmed. Hel’ss won’t enter the orbit of our world for a good long while yet.”
“How long do we have?”
Keldren opened a drawer and took out a long vellum scroll, which he rolled out onto a table. Kelos saw star charts and calendars inked on the soft leather.
“Hel’ss will enter Twilight’s orbit on… well, see for yourself,” Keldren said, pointing to a date on the scroll.
“That’s… why, that’s next year. I mean… I mean it will be next year, in our time, as it were. There must be something we can do! It… we have to get back. Warn everybody.”
But even as he said the words, Kelos realised that there was genuinely nothing he could do. He just didn’t have the power to take them all home. Just as the god of Illiun’s world had been consumed by Kerberos, Kerberos would be consumed by Hel’ss. Their world would end.
“Take comfort in the fact that you are safe here,” Keldren said, laying a hand on Kelos’s shoulder. “You shall die long before the final battle between Hel’ss and Kerberos. Anyway, that is entirely by the bye, since you and your companions will not be allowed to leave the city.”
There was something Kelos didn’t like about Keldren’s tone, and he turned to see that the academic’s expression had darkened.
“You can’t keep us here, surely?”
“Oh, but we can. You are humans; you were created by the elves to serve. And, besides, as unusually evolved examples of your race you must be studied.”
“This is outrageous! We’re not subjects in some scientific experiment.”
“All I can promise is that I will supervise your treatment myself, Kelos, along with those companions of yours… Emuel and Silus, was it? As magic users, they too must be studied.”
“And what will happen to the rest?”
“They will go to the camps. They will be treated well.”
Having already seen the humans in the city, Kelos doubted this very much.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The last thing Katya could recall was eating the meal of thin, peppery gruel the servant brought them, some hours after Kelos had been taken away.
When she opened her eyes, it was obvious they were no longer in the palace dormitory. The ceiling here was much lower and the room considerably smaller. By the light of the weak fire that guttered in the centre of the room, she could just make out the mounds of bodies scattered across the earth floor. Several of them were groaning as they came to. A hand reached from the darkness and gripped her arm; she turned to see Dunsany struggling out of sleep.
“Gods, my head!”
“It was the food,” Katya said. “The bastards drugged us. Where are Silus and Zac? Zac! Silus!”
When there was no response Katya ran to the door, but however hard she tugged on it, it wouldn’t open.
“Where is my son?” she shouted at the iron-banded planks. “What have you done with my child?”
“They separate the adults from the children,” a voice said, the speaker hunched by the fire, wrapped in a dirty cloak. “You won’t see him again.”
“But… this is monstrous. We’re not slaves!”
“You’re human, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then it’s no more than you deserve. It’s what we are. The elves made us. The elves own us.”
The cloaked figure drew back its hood. The pale face that looked up at her reminded Katya of the workers they had seen outside the palace. The man’s expression was blank, almost imbecilic, and his large round eyes seemed to absorb the firelight.
“You know,” Dunsany said. “One day you will be far more than slaves. The human race will rule this land. The
