Chapter 9

The mocking laughter of the Skeksis still rang in Jen's ears as he walked away.

He knew this shouldn't hurt as much as it did. Hadn't he told Aughra and the urSkeks that he knew skekSo wouldn't listen to a Gelfling? Trying to talk to him had been as fruitless as he'd said, and he'd never had the right to hope otherwise.

But even so, he had hoped, and it did hurt.

GraGoh stayed by his side as they made their way down the hall. "I know how you feel," he said, his voice low. "They wouldn't listen to me either."

"I don't understand. How can he not care about his own people? They served him for a thousand trine. Doesn't that mean anything to him?" Jen looked back. "And the others! Why do they still follow him? Don't they care?"

The dead urSkek looked at him gently. "You truly do have a good heart, Jen. And that can make it hard to understand those who do not. SoSu was a great leader once, but his dark shard cares for nothing except himself. When you were part of his court, the only way to survive was to follow his example."

Jen hesitated. He'd been quick to trust the urSkek at the beginning, despite knowing he'd once been a Skeksis too, but those words turned his thoughts back to the mysterious, stricken-from-history skekGra. "Were you part of it?"

"Yes, and I was as vile as any of them. They used to call me the Conqueror. I spread skekSo's empire across all the known world. But when my shards came before him with their vision from Thra, he still turned on me, and so did the others. Even the ones I'd considered my friends."

"Is that why he called you Heretic?" And why he tried to erase your name?

"Yes. Not that the Mystics were much better," GraGoh went on. "My shards tried to convince urSu too. He wasn't as, shall we say, pointed in his refusal, but he still wouldn't listen."

Jen tried (and failed) to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Why are you telling me all this? Are you saying I should give up? That SoSu's halves will never listen to anyone?"

GraGoh's scattered corona flared in a burst of light motes. "What? No, not at all! I wouldn't have tried to reach the other side if I thought there was no hope! But I promised you no more secrets. I only want you to understand what you're facing."

"Well, you've made it clear." He looked up at the urSkek. "I'm grateful for you guiding me here, GraGoh. I'll remember everything you've said. But I think I need to do this on my own."

You didn't succeed in convincing them before, he thought. Whatever the answer is, you don't have it. I'll have to find my own way.

GraGoh drew back, his corona dimmed almost to nothing. "... I understand."

The urRu were still as Jen had last seen them, gathered in meditation around the distortion where the Crystal should be. As he approached, urSu slowly looked up.

"My dark half did not listen." It wasn't a question, but a soft statement of fact.

"No." Jen stood before the ghostly Mystic. "But I had to try, Master. You and he are the only ones with the knowledge that can save us." He remembered urSu's earlier words, and how GraGoh had described what it felt like for an urSkek's mind to be divided. "Even if all you have now are dreams, that's still something. Please, tell me. Maybe it will be enough."

UrSu met his eyes. For the first time, through the heavy gray sorrow, Jen saw a hint of the kindness he remembered so well.

"I do want to help you, Jen. But I fear my answers are not the ones you need. I remember only that the Star-Shadow is a thing of death. The one who became two knew this. His designs would only have brought more death, but he would not see this." He lowered his eyes. "He was a fool, and he led others into folly."

In that moment, Jen understood.

When he was young, he'd often perceived that the Mystics seemed to carry some immense, unspoken guilt. After he'd learned the truth of their connection to the Skeksis, it had all made sense; they regretted not only unleashing their darker halves, but their own lack of action to stop them, and urSu had regretted most of all. Jen had been content thinking that was the whole tale.

But SoSu's guilt had begun long before the moment of division. It was his actions on the urSkeks' homeworld that had sent the Twice-Nine into exile. He blamed himself for inspiring the others to defy their people's way of life, and for failing to bring all those who had followed him safely home again.

And this broken half of his soul still carried that remorse, but could not (or would not?) right the wrongs he had done.

"But if you do know what the Star-Shadow is, then we can find another way!" Jen insisted. "Didn't you tell me that one can often gain more wisdom by taking the less direct path, even if it takes longer?"

A faint smile appeared on urSu's wrinkled face. "When you asked why we seemed to speak in riddles so much. Yes, I remember."

"So remember more!" Jen drew closer. "You saved me when I was a baby. You raised me. You sent me to heal the Crystal. Why, if it was all for nothing?"

"... One small act can change much. I could not save all the Gelfling, but I hoped, by saving you, I might still alter the course of fate. But you saved me too, Jen."

"What do you mean?"

The old Mystic's eyes were still sad, but his smile was not gone. "You brought me happiness I never thought I could feel again. Watching you grow, and teaching you, gave my own life purpose for the first time in centuries. And at the end …"

Jen tilted his head. "Master?"

UrSu's smile faded, but his voice was steady. "You deserve to know the truth of my death. When the Great Conjunction drew close, I knew my dark half would seek all the harder to prevent the prophecy. He had been weakened, but might yet have survived to be renewed by the Conjunction. I could not let that happen. I had already let him destroy so much, I could not let him ruin Thra's final chance to be healed. So I turned my energies inward. By embracing my own death, I could remove at least one danger from your path."

For a moment, Jen could only stare as the weight of those words sank in. He had never known what the nameless sickness was that had come upon his Master in those final days, or why urIm hadn't been able to do more than give some comfort to ease his pain.

Oh Master, why didn't you tell me?

UrSu smiled again. "And I was afraid, at the end. I did not know what might await me on the other side. But when you were with me, Jen, I remembered why I had made this choice. In that moment, you gave me the courage I needed."

Although he had to know he wouldn't be able to touch him, urSu reached out to Jen anyway. And Jen, with no hesitation, reached back. His hand passed through urSu's, but he held it there, even so.

"Master … I never knew."

"You did not need to. Your mind was where it should have been, on the quest ahead of you. And that is still where it should be." He curled his much-larger fingers around Jen's hand, the way he used to when the Gelfling was little. "You should go back to the world of the living."

Jen drew his hand back sharply. They were said with more kindness, but they were still the same words skekSo had said. "What?"

"Your place is there, saving what can be saved. You shouldn't trouble yourself with my fate." UrSu glanced around at the other urRu, who had not stirred from their meditation. "Our part in the song is done, and we accept that we will remain here."

"... No!" Jen stepped back. "Master, you know that I've always trusted your wisdom. You taught me so much, and I'll always remember your lessons."

He looked at the sad, silent urTih, so changed from the curious, creative Alchemist who had taught him fire-lighting and the properties of stone and metal. He watched the two young-looking ones (urYa and urHom, he remembered, those must be their names), who hadn't lived long enough for their counterparts to harm Thra, yet had accepted that they too deserved penance.

"But you're wrong about this. You don't deserve to stay here forever, any more than the Gelfling do. And if I can find a way to get them out, then … then I'll find a way to free you as well. All of you. I promise it."

Jen turned from his Master, and walked out of the Crystal Chamber.

He managed to reach the archway before tears came.

In the Castle as Jen knew it, a wide bridge of living wood and vines connected the entrance hall to the land outside. The Podlings had spent many seasons lovingly helping it to grow over the restored moat, and it had flowered into a thing of strength and beauty.

There was no such bridge here. There wasn't even the narrow, twisted one the Skeksis had left in place for the Garthim, after they stopped venturing outside the Castle themselves. In this realm, the entrance hall simply ended, the outer gate opening into nothing. When Jen looked out over the edge, he could only see more gray-violet fog.

For a moment, he wondered what might happen if he were to step out into that emptiness. Would he walk on air? Would he fall? If he did, would that bring him harm, if nothing else in this realm did?

Jen pushed those thoughts away quickly. He still had a quest ahead of him, and no matter how hopeless it might seem, he could not turn from it. He could not allow such thoughts.

He let himself cry for a little longer. UrSu had told him once that there was no shame in weeping, for it allowed the spirit to let strong feelings flow free, instead of holding them inside where they might bring harm. As the tears subsided, though, he didn't feel any better.

It hurt to tell urSu he was wrong. But what good were the urRu doing by punishing themselves now? Why were they still refusing to help when their world was in danger?

Jen couldn't understand it. And if he couldn't understand, how was he supposed to reach them?

He sat down on the edge of the open gateway, and gazed out into the fog.

He didn't know how long he stayed there. With the realm in eternal twilight, and separated from the rhythms of his living body, Jen had no way to measure time. What must it be like for the souls who had been trapped in this place for so many trine, he wondered? Did they have any sense of how long they'd been here? Even the creatures he'd seen on his underground journey had been able to feel themselves living and growing in the darkness - the dead did not even have that.

He couldn't leave them to this fate. But he was still no closer to finding an answer.

The sound of slow, measured footsteps approached behind him. Jen turned his head.

GraGoh was there, drifting toward him through the shadows, and beside him was an urRu Jen hadn't seen before. His spiral-marked skin was a warm sandy color, and he wore part of his mane tied up in a long, high tail.

"I hope you don't mind," GraGoh said, "but there was another who wished to see you."

The urRu smiled, and bowed his head politely. "I am urVa. It's an honor to meet the one who healed the Crystal."

"I wish I felt worthy of honor," Jen replied quietly. "Healing the Crystal won't mean anything if I can't stop the Star-Shadow. I thought I could get urSu to help me, but I was wrong." He looked out at the void again. "Maybe Aughra should have been the one to come here."

GraGoh's corona was faint, but warm. "Mother Aughra has many gifts, but patience for those who won't listen has never been one. I'm glad she chose to send you instead. And I don't believe she or my brothers would have done it if they didn't have faith in you."

Jen did not look back. "Or else they felt they had no choice."

"There is always another choice." The new urRu - urVa - walked closer, until he stood by Jen's side. "It may not be easy to accept, or easy to follow, but there is always another path to be found. Even now, youcould leave this realm, yet you choose to stay."

Jen remembered that when Aughra first explained the ritual, he'd asked her how he was supposed to return. Her answer had been maddeningly vague: "You'll know when the time comes."

He still hadn't figured that out. He didn't even know if she'd been speaking from experience, or hinting at something she'd glimpsed with her prophet's sight.

But as he listened to urVa now, he felt new strength take root inside him.

It wasn't the time to return. He knew that in his heart. There must still be a way for his quest to succeed, even if he couldn't see it yet.

He looked at urVa closely now. The Mystic's face was deeply lined and wrinkled, but his eyes were open, with none of the heavy sorrow that weighed down the others. And he was here now, seeking Jen out, instead of holding himself in motionless penance.

Like GraGoh, something about him was different.

"UrVa … I remember the other Mystics spoke of you. You were known as the Archer. You used your arrows to guide those out in the wilds."

The Mystic smiled. "I did, but I left my arrows behind in death. Now I am only urVa."

Jen thought of skekSa and urSan, who could not be Mariner or Swimmer anymore, and seemed trapped in despair over their loss. "And that doesn't make you sad?"

"A little," he admitted. "It is not easy to let go of the bonds that held you in life. But sometimes it can also be liberating. In death, you need only be yourself."

"I wish the other Mystics saw it that way," Jen said in quiet anger. "All they can think about is the bad things they did in life. They're so determined to punish themselves, they can't see where they're truly needed!"

GraGoh drifted closer. "It vexes me too, but try not to judge them too harshly." He gestured at the empty hall around them. "This realm isn't a place of punishment. There's nothing here except what you bring in your own heart. But if you died with your heart full of guilt … well, there's not much here to distract you from that, is there? It becomes all you can think about."

"Especially for my kind," urVa added. "It is in our nature to wait, and to ponder, rather than to act. I am not surprised the others succumbed as they have."

"So why haven't you?" Jen faced him, shifting where he sat. "Why aren't you in there with urSu and the others?"

UrVa looked thoughtful. "Not all the Mystics followed urSu's ways in life, and not all do so in death. He believes Thra placed us here with our dark halves so we might keep them imprisoned. But I have pursued my own meditations. After all this time ... I cannot help wondering if Thra has another reason for bringing us all together."

GraGoh's corona darkened. "Oh! So now you think my shards were right. Too bad you couldn't have supported me when we were alive!" The urSkek managed to calm himself down, but his corona stayed hazy with doubt. "Very well. I suppose a late vindication is better than none. But unity cannot happen unless both halves are willing. Even if you might listen, what makes you think the rest will ever change their minds?"

"Because there is something new now."

Jen perked his ears. "And what's that?"

UrVa turned to the Gelfling. "You."

"... But I don't know how to bring SoSu's halves together! I couldn't even get urSu to tell me about the Star-Shadow!"

"Even so, you are the answer, Jen. You only have to see it in yourself." UrVa gave him another gentle smile. "Think on it. When I was alive, I practiced with my bow when I needed to focus my thoughts. Is there something that might help you?"

"... Yes. I play my firca." He started to reach for it, and then remembered. "But I left it back in the living world." He could still picture it, resting on a crystal shelf where he'd taken it off the night before.

UrVa tilted his head. "Are you so sure?"

"Yes. I meant to go back for it after we talked to Aughra this morning, but I never got the chance."

"None of us have had the chance to go back for anything," replied the Mystic. "Yet our things are here with us now. My bow and arrows have been left behind, but I have my coat that urUtt made for me. The dead Gelfling have the clothes they wore in life. My dark half has his blades, and urSu's dark half has his scepter. If your firca is such a part of you, why should it not be with you now?"

Jen closed his eyes, trying to understand. He remembered his first thought, that this realm was like a dream. If that was true, was it possible he could shape the dream, even a little?

He remembered something urSol had told him once, when the Mystic was first teaching him to play. "This firca is well-made, but any tool is only as fine as the crafter who wields it. An instrument is silent without a musician to play it, but a musician may hold countless songs in his heart, even when he carries no instrument. The music comes from you, Jen. Always remember that."

Jen reached again, and this time, he felt the wood of the firca under his fingers.

He opened his eyes, still not quite believing, and brought the mouthpiece to his lips. Dream or not, it felt real. When he blew a note, it rang out clear and bright in the desolate hall.

At the sight of the humble firca, GraGoh's corona flickered, as if something had intrigued him. "Where did you get that?"

"I don't know," the Gelfling replied simply. "Maybe urSol gave it to me, or maybe I had it before the Mystics ever found me. But I've had it as long as I can remember."

And as he thought of urSol, he knew exactly what he wanted to play.

The song started out low, a single soft melody, as if calling out from somewhere impossibly far away. UrSol had taught it to him late in his lessons, and he remembered that the Chanter had seemed unsure about doing so.

"This is a song of my own composing," he had said. "I heard another Gelfling play it once, a long time ago. I … did not appreciate it then. But I would like to hear you play it, Jen. And I would like you to help me change it."

It had seemed strange the first time Jen heard it. The key was different from all other music of Thra - otherworldly, in the same way the Mystics' chanting often seemed. But even in its strangeness, it had been beautiful, and yet full of such sadness and longing as the Gelfling could barely imagine.

He played that lonely, longing melody now. And whether it was because of the deathly stillness of the air, because he played from his soul instead of by mortal breath, or because of some other, nameless power, the song began to carry across the realm.

The dead Gelfling heard it, and stopped in their wanderings through the Castle to listen. In the spectral throne room, the Skeksis heard it. In the dark and empty Crystal Chamber, the urRu heard it, and looked up from their meditation.

Every corner of that empty place took notice as the music spread through it, until even the stones and the eternal fog seemed to listen.

But the song of sorrow was only the first part.

Jen began to play a harmony on the double flute. Notes of new joy, closer to the familiar song of Thra, joined with the notes of alien yearning. It was this part that he had helped urSol compose, and the two melodies strengthened each other, just as his music had strengthened Kira's voice that day by the Silver Sea.

The two melodies blended into one, sorrow and joy and nostalgia and hope, all the stronger and more beautiful for the differing of the notes. And in every dead soul that listened, memories stirred to life.

The Gelfling remembered Thra - all of the life and light that flourished beyond this gloomy realm. They thought of their own lives there, all that they had lost, and the final chance to become one with Thra that had been stolen from them. For the first time, all of them dared to hope they might not have to stay here forever, that the promise of new life might still be kept.

Tolyn remembered a time when he had cherished the camaraderie of his fellow guards more than his loyalty to the Skeksis, and he began to let go of the dark guilt that had filled his heart since the moment of his death. Mira remembered the love she had shared with Rian - all the moments of happiness they'd known in the brief time they'd been together. He hadn't been able to save her from death, but he'd turned his love for her into something powerful enough to change their world. And if he'd also found someone new to love in the course of things … well, then she was glad for him.

UrVa remembered when he and skekMal had been young, in the early trine after the division. In those days before the Hunt had consumed his dark half's mind, the two of them had been friends who explored the wilds of Thra together. And he remembered even further back, to when the two had been one, and had explored far more distant worlds in search of new life.

Beneath the Teeth of Skreesh, skekSa and urSan remembered when they had studied distant oceans as one, seeking knowledge and adventure over the crest of each new wave. For the first time in trine, they looked up from the trickle of ghostly sewage. Their eyes met, and without words, they began to make their way into the Castle.

Out on the barren ravine floor, and in the Crystal Chamber, skekYi and urYa and skekHak and urHom remembered a time when they had not been lost, savage creatures trapped in this dark place, but had dwelled in sunlight and led lives of sapience and purpose. The two Skeksis finally stopped their centuries of aimless wandering, and turned their path to the Castle, following the music.

SkekLi and urLii remembered when their crafting of songs and tales had been a heartfelt passion, instead of a weapon to wound or a veil to conceal knowledge. When they had been respected, and had true friends, and not had to fear a wrong word would cost everything.

SkekLach and urSen remembered when gathering the material treasures of the world had been a joy, instead of a tiresome chore or an attachment to be avoided. They remembered finding beauty in the things they cataloged (and in themselves), and happiness in sharing them with those who had true need.

SkekVar and urMa remembered a time when they had sought to prevent war instead of welcoming it, and had protected those in need and brought them guidance. Peace without the strength to preserve it meant little, but they had been able to achieve both once, and been honored for it.

SkekTek and urTih remembered the long-ago joy they had felt in seeking out knowledge from every corner of existence. Once, they had been able to turn their discoveries into true betterment for their world, without stealing life from the innocent or stagnating in the same old experiments. Their days had not been clouded by anger and pain, and they had embraced life with an open mind and heart.

And skekSo and urSu remembered when they had not been Emperor, Master, or even Councilor, but had been a teacher, inspiring devotion through wisdom instead of fear. When his disciples had been his friends, ready to follow him across the void and beyond. When he had loved each of them, had wanted to inspire the best in them, and most of all, had wanted to keep them safe - even if it meant defying the most ancient laws of their kind.

But skekSo had spent a thousand trine denying those memories, and he still resisted now.

"Argh!" He rubbed his temple, as if feeling a headache coming, and banged his scepter on the stone floor. "I will not tolerate that infernal noise in my castle!" He turned to skekVar. "General! Go find the Gelfling and silence him."

It took skekVar a moment to hear him, and when he did, he hesitated. But centuries of loyalty were stronger than a song, no matter how beautiful it might be.

"As you command, Sire."

The bulky Skeksis bowed, drew his sword, and headed for the entrance hall. As he neared the inner gate, however, he found his path blocked.

SkekMal stood beside the gate, just out of sight of those outside. He wore an expression skekVar could not remember ever seeing on the feral Skeksis before, and it took him a moment to realize what it was.

Peace.

SkekVar hesitated again, but steeled himself. "Hunter, get out of my way."

SkekMal's lip curled. "What for? I like where I am. Pass on through me, if you have to."

SkekVar gripped his sword tighter. His relationship with skekMal, one of the few of their kind who could outmatch him in a fight, had often been tense, and being spoken to this way rankled. "I said get out of my way!The Emperor wants the intruding Gelfling dealt with."

"And just how do you think you're gonna do that?" skekMal scoffed. "If you haven't noticed, idiot, we're dead."

A group of Gelfling had come near them, drawn by Jen's song. SkekMal drew one of his curved knives and slashed it through the neck of the nearest Gelfling.

She did not so much as blink as the blade passed through her harmlessly. The other Gelfling paid the Skeksis no heed either, except for one older male who gave him a brief, disdainful glance.

"See? The Gelfling aren't afraid of us anymore. We're not their Lords here. I'm not a Hunter, you're not a General, and he's," he gestured back toward the throne room, "no Emperor."

"You speak treason," skekVar growled.

"I speak truth. You just don't want to hear it. Never was good at thinking for yourself, and you're still scared to do it now."

The taller Skeksis growled again. "You dare question-"

"Oh, shut up! Can't you see none of it matters anymore? All of it, it's over. No more Empire. No more Hunt. Nothing but this cursed place and a bunch of wretched ghosts for the rest of forever. That Gelfling might be the last living thing we ever see."

"... He's Rian's, isn't he?"

SkekMal chuckled. "You sensed it too. Figures his whelp would give our kind just as much trouble as he did."

"So why not go after him? We can take him together."

"You really are stupid," skekMal snarled. "I can't hunt something I can't touch. And what good would taking his strength do? One Gelfling won't make me alive again. Not even the one who healed the Crystal."

He looked out through the gate, to the place where Jen sat with urVa beside him.

"Right now, I'd rather have that song more than any trophy. So shut your beak. I want to listen."

To Be Continued…