Erelah led the way as if she’d been walking through the inside of trees all her life. The tall blonde girl shed a faint glow that the others had no trouble seeing in the deep gloom of the World Tree’s mysterious paths. Tully walked behind her, and it seemed to Carla that the girl’s silver glow trailed around him too, like a—
“Hey! Tully, get that trumpet thing out of the way. There’s a good lad. You’re blocking all the light.”
Jack’s voice broke Carla’s thoughts into tiny glittering pieces and she refused to bend down and pick them up. Tully swung Shaphar, the bronze trumpet, from his shoulder.
“That better?”
“Savage, thanks.”
Carla held the spear, Askr, and the light it gave out was enough for her to pick out the patterns in the wood that hemmed them in on all sides. All her senses seemed to be enhanced, and she could pierce the darkness of the side tunnels, her keen hearing picking up the unsettling sounds that slopped out of them. She hurried past these dark openings, following the starlight of the Messenger Erelah.
“I hope she knows how to find her way out of here,” Jack muttered to himself and anybody else who’d listen.
“We all find what we are looking for, as long as we look hard enough.” Erelah’s voice drifted over Carla’s head, as soft and light as the glow that surrounded her.
“Why is it that whatever weird situation I’m in, I always seem to be sharing it with some young woman who’s a fount of wisdom?”
Carla decided Jack was being gently—rather than savagely—sarcastic. “You must attract them, Jack. I think you even married one, didn’t you?”
There was a short pause before he answered—short and poignantly. “I did.”
Carla turned her head to smile at her parents walking hand in hand just behind her. She couldn’t remember ever having seen that before. Traveling certainly changes people. She hoped Erelah was right and that Jack really would find what he was looking for. She had found her mother—had trawled through the wreckage of the Himalayas until she’d found the last spark of life—and she had rescued her father from the demon that had almost dragged his body into the bottomless pit. Finding Jack’s wife Molly somewhere in this labyrinth of tunnels and webs of parallel worlds shouldn’t be much more difficult.
“We’re there.”
Tully’s voice broke into her thoughts. Her grip tightened on the spear, and her other hand reached for Tully’s, her fingers meshing with his. Erelah had stopped. Her right hand was placed on the smooth wood face before her, lighting it with an unearthly glow.
“This is the place,” she said, excitement raising the pitch of her voice.
The others formed a group behind her, watching the movement of her hand, waiting for the disintegration of the wood and the opening of a tunnel. They waited. Nothing happened. Erelah turned, a slight frown between her brows.
“I don’t understand. I was sent to bring you here, and something is stopping us getting in.”
“Security cameras,” Jack said, getting fidgety, “don’t like the look of us.”
Erelah’s frown didn’t fade. “I think you’re right,” she said, without a hint of humor. She turned, and Carla saw that her eyes were full of hurt. “Why won’t they let me in?” she murmured. “This is my home.”
“Let me try,” Tully said, raising Shaphar to his lips.
Crystal drops of music fell from the trumpet’s brass bell, and Carla felt the hairs rise at the back of her neck. The notes rippled down to the soles of her feet, meeting the vibrations that shivered through the tree. There was no gentle motion of atoms swirling into a tunnel but a loud crack, as the tree burst open and blinding light flooded the interior.
Tully lowered the trumpet, but the music continued, repeated and echoed from the world beyond the tree. Her face transformed with joy, Erelah held out a hand to Tully and led him into Paradisio. Carla’s feet dragged. Her fingers felt the absence of Tully’s hand and, for an instant, the bright light flickered and dimmed. The others pressed around her to reach the outside and she let herself be carried along in the excited movement. But the nagging feeling of something like jealousy spoiled the joy and she entered Paradisio with a frown between her brows.
“Halt!”
The voice was loud and imperious, and Carla had a sinking feeling of déjà vu or déjà entendu. Brilliant light shone through the Sentinel’s golden hair, even his skin appeared to glow. And there was a lot of skin to glow, Carla considered—a combat vest over a naked, well-muscled torso and arms to match. If she’d been in the mood, Carla would have found him luscious, but she wasn’t. And the outstretched hand that motioned them to stop, even if it wasn’t holding an assault rifle, brought back unpleasant memories.
“You,” the Sentinel pointed at Erelah, and a silver spear tattoo on his biceps twitched, “have the look of a Messenger. And your companion”—he peered curiously at Tully—“has a familiar air about him too. But who are…these others, and why have you brought them here?”
Carla moved forward to stand next to Tully. She refused to be separated from him again. Nor did she much like Erelah stepping straight out of a wormhole and into the expedition leader’s shoes. “She didn’t bring us,” Carla said firmly. “It was a joint decision.”
“We’re looking for what can only be found here,” Garance added. “We are the last of Earth and what wisdom and knowledge could be saved, we have brought with us. We were told that in Paradisio wisdom would be welcomed.”
The slight reproach did not go unnoticed.
“Nothing you may have salvaged from Earth will be of the slightest use to the Grigori,” the Sentinel replied arrogantly. “But it may have some curiosity value.”
“Does that mean we’re in or not?” Jack’s voice rang with false joviality to Carla’s ears, and she tensed, gripping Askr tighter, ready to intervene if necessary. It wasn’t. Tully spoke, lightening the tension.
“These are our companions. That’s all you need to know. Now take us to your leader or whatever, and make it quick. This trumpet is bloody heavy.”
Carla stifled a laugh. She caught Tully’s eye, saw the old Tully in his expression and gave him a discreet wink. The Sentinel stiffened as Tully stepped forward, close enough to punch him in the gut, Carla thought. There was no need. The golden-haired guardian gave a curt nod.
“I have no intention of leaving you here to wander unattended like sheep in a meadow.”
“Pleased to hear it,” Tully said. “I’m looking forward to putting my feet up for a bit.”
“Yeah, and less of the sheep, too,” Jack added.
Erelah looked bemused, but said nothing.
“My instructions were to meet the Messenger and Israfel. The rest of you…I will take to the gates of Paradisio, then we shall see. Keep close to my aura,” the Sentinel ordered and the glow that hung about him grew to a bright light.
“Should we hold hands?” Jack asked sarcastically. The Sentinel ignored him, checked they were grouped tightly enough, then strode forward.
There was no sensation of movement, no opening of a tunnel in space, no sound. One second they were standing in the bright light by the bole of the World Tree and the next, it was as though they were among the clouds, rolling, gentle billows. Carla stamped her feet to feel the ground beneath them. Mist. It swirled about them, filling hollows and rising skyward to blur the definitions even more. Earth, sky and, for all she knew, lakes and rivers, were bathed in insubstantial streams of shifting colors.
The Sentinel had moved on, and Erelah fell into step with him, drawn to his brilliance that complemented her own. Tully nudged Carla.
“Friendly bunch, aren’t they?” he said.
Carla twisted her mouth in a not-smile. “They take security surprisingly seriously for superior beings. I wonder what they’re afraid of?”
“Maybe this lot.” Tully glanced about him. Carla followed his gaze and for the first time was able to make out shapes in the dazzle. Perhaps her eyes were getting used to the intensity, but she could see hues of green and blue in the light. What looked like low buildings of a shimmering iridescence appeared, set among fields, and farther away, where the green of the fields and the pearl of the buildings met the blue of the sky, a high wall rose that cast no shadow. She looked closer and saw that figures stood among the buildings, darker shapes against the mother-of-pearl, and she noticed a humming that was more like voices than machinery.
“They don’t feel menacing.” She nodded at the watching figures. “Why should the Grigori be frightened of them?”
“Can’t you hear the song?”
Carla shook her head. “I hear voices, murmuring.”
Tully frowned. “Not those. From beyond the wall. Dead souls. They can’t get in.”
“Dead souls?”
Tully listened again then shook his head. His smile returned. “I dunno. All of these worlds are weird. We’ll get used to it. Come on. I can see pearly gates up ahead. We must be nearly there.”
Carla smiled and slipped her hand into his. She wasn’t going to let him go again.
The bank of changing colors ahead had solidified into a towering wall. Carla could see no end to its shimmering smoothness. It rose imperceptibly from blue ground mist and melted into the wispy clouds that trailed across the blue of the sky. Erelah broke off her conversation with the Sentinel and turned back, a faraway smile on her lips. The Sentinel hurried ahead to a small door in the smooth fabric of the wall. Carla noticed that his hair was the same golden blond as Erelah’s and that the Messenger’s dreamy, sky-blue eyes were fixed on Tully.
“This is the second wall,” she said in a breathless voice, and paused as if waiting to hear gasps of incredulity. “Hanael will have to negotiate to have you all let in.” She looked pointedly at Lucio, Garance and Jack.
Lucio made a pantomime of knotting his stained and tattered tie, and Garance ran her fingers through her hair, picking out bits of grass stems from her last bed next to the Poll Ifrinn. Jack stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets, obviously fighting back the urge to punch somebody.
“Do we look like terrorists or something?” he asked.
Erelah looked slightly uncomfortable. “Hanael says that there is a new protocol and the doors are rarely opened now.”
“But why?” Jack insisted. “I don’t see a besieging army with rockets and tanks. What’s the problem?”
Carla caught Erelah’s eye and knew that, like Tully, she heard the murmurings from beyond the first wall, and she had felt the silent reproach of the shadowy figures they had passed on the way. She also noticed the conflicting emotions that flitted across Erelah’s face as she struggled to understand the coldness of this place that she was so certain was her real home.
Erelah raised her hands in a shrug of helplessness. “This is Paradisio, Jack. We have to respect the way they do things.”
Carla glanced at Tully, but he was listening to Erelah, watching the movement of her lips. Perhaps he heard words the rest of them didn’t. Perhaps he heard a song in the banalities. Unease crept over Carla as she stood beneath the unreal walls of an unreal place. She was as tall as Tully and Erelah, tall as the Sentinel Hanael too, and she knew that she shone as brightly. But she was tied to an Earth they were forgetting. She had brought with her feelings that she feared had little weight in this new world of shifting lights and half-seen images. Tully nodded, and she knew he was accepting that ‘the way they do things’ might sometimes be distasteful. Her unease grew.
Hanael returned through the door, if it even was a door and not an old-fashioned illusion, since it hadn’t appear to have opened to let him pass.
“Well? Can we come in, or are we going to be shot as spies?”
Garance chuckled. “I don’t think it will come to that, Jack. We come bearing gifts, after all.”
“You pulling my leg or what? I bet our talents don’t even work here. I bet I couldn’t make a tunnel through that door, even if I did know what was on the other side.”
“I have a considerable amount of knowledge stored in here”—Garance tapped her right temple—“that must be noted down and preserved.”
“And I, as her husband, will make sure she eats and sleeps while she is about this great work,” Lucio said with a smile.
“Very worthy, I’m sure,” Jack said. “So what will I do? Make the tea? Mow the lawn? Walk the dog?”
Hanael ignored Jack and addressed Tully. “This is where you part company with…these people. You are welcome in Paradisio, Israfel, as is the companion you have found.” He smiled in a way that made Carla want to slap him. “The rest cannot enter, but they will find Between the Walls a pleasant enough place, if they wish to stay there.”
Carla was horrified. She shot Tully a quick glance, wondering when he was going to intervene. Tully didn’t seem to be paying any attention to what Hanael was saying. His face was glowing. He was staring at the wall that was more like an optical illusion than solid stone.
“I can see it,” he whispered. “I can see Paradisio.”
“They won’t let your dad in.” Carla nudged him.
Tully turned to her, his eyes full of stars. “It’s fantastic!”
“They won’t let your dad in,” she repeated angrily. “Or my mum and dad either. Are you going to tell him or shall I?”
“Tell who what?” Tully appeared genuinely confused, then turned toward his father. “You’ll be okay. Won’t you, Dad? We’ll just have a look around and be right back.” He stared at Carla. “What’s the matter?”
Carla didn’t answer. She planted her spear in the ground and jabbed a finger at Hanael. “Either we all go in, or we all stay out. So? What’s it to be?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Erelah fussed. “There’s no need to start a war.”
“There’s no need to let ourselves be bullied either.” Carla thrust out her chin. “You go in if you want. The rest of us will have a little discussion first, about whether this place is all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Hang on,” Jack said. “If Paradisio is on the other side of that wall, what’s this?” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand to encompass the misty landscape, the half-seen buildings and shadowy figures. “It doesn’t look real.”
Hanael gave a dismissive shrug. “It’s as real as those who inhabit it. Soon, perhaps, it will no longer be…necessary.”
Carla felt cold. This was not what she had been expecting. She reached out tentatively to the sky above, thinking to walk among the stars, perhaps find the dreams of the elusive inhabitants of this place that was somewhere between real and unreal. Her thoughts raced higher, through the misty light, high enough to be beyond the pull of the world below, but there were no stars above. She met a smooth, glittering wall, opaque, but full as an opal of glinting colors. There were no paths to walk, no stars to guide, no dreams to hear. The air was silent.
She dropped back to the ground, into the mists that veiled buildings and hills and she reached for Tully’s hand. He was drifting. She wanted to feel him physically close, to draw him back from wherever it was she sensed him floating toward. He sighed, as if he was waking from a beautiful dream that had nothing to do with the strange unreality of the misty country.
“Okay. All for one, and one for all.” He lifted the bronze trumpet to his lips again and Carla held her breath. He took a deep breath and blew. The sound billowed and expanded, loud and incredibly sweet—like birdsong and thunder at the same time. The melody rose higher and higher and, like veils of mist falling away one by one, a wide door appeared in the wall. The music faded.
“I think that settles the argument,” Tully said, then strode into the second circle of Paradisio.