Our story thus far: Lord Marshal Riddick, for reasons we have not explored but likely were nihilistic and perhaps a tiny bit oppositional defiant, ordered the entire Necromonger fleet into the Threshold of the Underverse. Subsequently, our Riddick woke, naked, in a young lady's parlour. In another universe. Susan, the young lady in question, was not pleased, as Riddick's presence signaled that her grandfather, the anthropomorphic embodiment of Death, had gone on walk abouts, leaving the family business – represented by The Pale Horse and The Scythe – to her.
Mounting the Pale Horse, Binky, she brought Riddick, clothed, to Death's realm in an effort to investigate. Riddick discovers he likes Binky, who, he learns has the ability to go anywhere. As Susan is researching her Riddick troubles in Death's Dark Study, Lobsang, Susan's boyfriend and the son of the anthropomorphic embodiment of Time (like she's gonna date a frat boy) arrived with grave news that Riddick's attempt to give the Necromongers what they want may be shredding the multiverse. He also lets slip that the Underverse is a real place where Necromongers go when they die. Realizing that Jack might in fact be subject to rescue, Riddick decides to ride forth and save her. After mysteriously agreeing on "nine minutes," Susan slays Riddick with Death's own scythe. Our tale then took us to the Underverse, where we learn Jack was in fact reborn in the Underverse after dying saving Riddick's life, and has sadly fallen into the hands of people who are not overly solicitous of her welfare. We returned to Death's study. Time has rolled back nine minutes. Riddick is not dead – yet – and instead is given dinner and a comfy bed. . .
Chapter 6: Which Begins with Breakfast, Engages in Some Tedious But Necessary Exposition with Yet Another Appropriated Character, and Ends with the Implication of Dragons.
Riddick woke refreshed and surprisingly hungry. He tracked down the little kitchen. Albert was still there, still torturing sausages.
"Hello sleeping beauty," the old man said, still smirking. Riddick wondered briefly if smirking was simply his default state.
"Hey, old man."
"Breakfast?"
"Sure." Albert found a plate – black – and loaded some of the "sausages" onto it. Which is to say, congealed and cooked down blood. Mysteriously, these ones had oats mixed in. As a concession, perhaps, to the hour, Albert served them with a tomato and some bread that had hardly been fried at all. Riddick ate the food slowly. He'd had worst.
"Susan won't eat my cooking," Albert sniffed.
Riddick smiled, involuntarily, feeling a moment of sympathy for the queer girl. "Where is she?"
Albert rolled his eyes. "Had class to teach."
"Huh?"
It was like Albert had a bitterness pimple that had just burst, spurting the pus of righteous indignation everywhere. Riddick eased away. "Do you have any idea what sort of power that girl's got? She can go any place, any time. She can snap her fingers and people freeze. She has a voice that makes people believe what she tells them. She should be some sort of – some sort of witch queen somewhere. Instead, she's a school teacher." The last two words dripped venom.
"Teacher?"
"In her real life, she's a school teacher. It's nuts. Girl's part immortal. She could rule the world. You know what she's doing these day? She's teaching critical thinking skills to a bunch of Ankh-Morpork children." The stink of irritation spewed off of the old man like the stink of sausages.
"Ankh-Morpork?"
Albert sniffed, clearly finding pleasure in Riddick's inferior knowledge of local geography. "That's right, you're not from around here. It's a big city. The big city. Where she found you. Where we got our toilet. They've got the best dwarves down there. Even figured out how to install a toilet in Death's own house. Smart buggers."
I am not asking about that. "So, what, she's not living up to her potential?"
Albert seemed to miss the irony in the words. "It's all about power. She has it. And she's too sanctimonious to use it."
Riddick watched him carefully. "She said she killed a boy to make the sun rise."
"Yeah. She'll save the world if she has to. Or she'll use it to help her kids get a good educational experience." Albert huffed like an elephant passing gas, then, not surprisingly, seemed to deflate slightly. "Her mum lived here for hundreds of years as a 16 year old girl. Think it did something to her."
These people are very strange. "Why's Susan a duchess?"
Albert snorted and reinflated. "Oh, her father used power a time or two. He was Death's apprentice. Got sent to take a princess. Got star struck, or fell in love, or stubbed his toe or something. Wouldn't take her. That created two universes; one where the princess died like she was supposed to; one where she didn't. The Master was very cross. But he's a softy. Pulled some strings. Got the two time lines knit together and they all lived happily every after. Well, until the carriage accident."
"I don't get it. Her father married a princess?"
"Nope. Her father married Death's adopted daughter. Princess made them royalty."
Riddick spoke slowly, trying to make all the pieces fit. "So her folks stopped some girl from being killed, but Death didn't stop them from dying?"
A wicked smile twisted Albert's twisted face. "Yeah. Funny old thing, Death. He always loved them. He could have done something. But he didn't. They died young and pretty, and he took them himself through the dark door."
"The Threshold."
"Yeah. It's been called that."
"Why'd they stop visiting?"
"Didn't want Susan growing up all supernatural like."
Riddick took one last bite, shoved the plate away. "What's your role in all this, old man?"
Albert's twisted smile grew conspiratorial. "I challenged Death. He thinks I lost."
"Huh?"
"Hundreds of years ago, and I'm still here, ain't I? I'm a wizard. There are demons in the dark dimensions slavering for me on the other side. I'm in no hurry to meet up with them. Hopin' some might eat each other before I have to pass through the threshold."
And the things I'm not asking about just keep piling up. "Okay." Riddick stood, put his plate in the sink. "Thanks. I'm gonna poke around. Any thing I should know? Any 'one door' I'm not supposed to go through or anything?"
"Not falling for that one, kid. Go anywhere you want. Well, Susan might get annoyed if you poked around her bedroom too hard. But other than that, just don't fall off, and you'll be fine."
"Fall off?"
"It's a long way down, son."
Riddick gave him a long blank look, headed towards the door. "Hey," Albert called after him.
"What?"
Albert pulled himself up stiffly. "Take some lunch. I could use the quiet." He started bustling about in a picnicky way. Riddick noted something that looked suspiciously like animal bladders seemed to be part of the plan, and vowed to be very careful.
"Thanks," he said with as much warmth as he could muster. Riddick collected the sack and headed out the door. Found the stables and was disappointed to find that Binky wasn't there. My best friend in all the world. Riddick snorted at himself.
He walked around the stables. There was a fenced field full of grass a green so dark he thought it was black at first. Why fence a field that has a flying horse in it? He entered the field cautiously. Nice place for a run. Get the kinks out. He started jogging along the fence lightly, and then faster and faster. Felt good.
The field was an enormous oval. Seemed absolutely normal. Even had to avoid certain organic obstructions. After circling the whole field once, he set out across the middle, heading for the point most distant from the house, about four clicks away.
Arrived slightly winded. Eyed the land beyond the fence. There was the suggestion of a forest. Not actual trees; just the suggestion of trees . . . as he stared at any particular tree, it seemed to become more solid. But the others seemed to fade. Like there was only so much reality to go around.
"Don't fall off." Old guy didn't say anything about getting lost in the woods. Riddick vaulted the fence lightly and headed towards the forest. He stopped at the very first tree to do a set of pull-ups on a handy branch. Both arms, one arm, other arm, both arms. Did it until he was exhausted. Stopped, took a drink from one of the pouches Albert had given him, dourly certain it was indeed made from an animal bladder.
Took his first step into the tulgy wood. How do I know it's tulgy? he wondered. Words he didn't know he knew were filtering up. Is this a dream? Am I going to wake up back in the Necropolis? Or – and he was surprised at how wistful the thought made him – back in Cremetoria, with Jack?
Why didn't I ever fuck her?
The woods darkened immediately. It was a strange dark. As if he couldn't see so well because there was less there to see, not that there was less light to see it by. He walked carefully, extending all his senses. There was a strange delay on the sounds, as if sound waves had to think it through before they bounced back.
After what felt like an eternity, it seemed to get lighter ahead. He pushed on. Found himself in front of an enormous castle. A man, all in black, was looking down at him from a parapet. The man frowned at him. Suddenly, he was on the parapet with the man.
"Hello, friend, you have wandered here in a dream," the pale man said. "But fear not, I will send you back to the waking world no worse for wear."
Riddick started to tell the poncy bastard he had misunderstood what was going on – but changed his mind. Going back anywhere sounded just fine. "Okay."
The man smiled at him. There was a pause. The back of Riddick's brain prickled, like it had when the Quasi Deads had started probing. Riddick started to round on the strange man, irritated enough to see if this man could fly like Binky, but the feeling was gone before he got his muscles working. As if he knew, the man stepped back. "No," he said, wonderingly. "You did not come here in a dream. At least, not your own dream."
Riddick's irritation drained away, replaced by a feeling of resignation. He sighed, turned and rested his elbows on the stone ledge. "Yeah, I kinda figured that. You know a girl who think she's death?"
The man lit up. "My sister! You wandered here from her kingdom?"
"Guess so."
"Do you know why?"
"Just passin' through."
"Really." The man paused, awkwardly. "Do you know who I am?" There was a slightly plaintive note in his voice.
Riddick looked him up and down, thoughtfully. "Nope."
"I am the Lord of Dreams. Death's brother."
"Good for you."
"Not really. I was born to the role."
"Destiny sucks some time."
The man's lips twitched.
There was an awkward silence. Finally, the man broke it, speaking a little less formally. "Look. You're here. That means I'm supposed to give you some sort of cryptic guidance you'll worry about, but will come in helpful at the right time."
"Huh."
"Don't let her die."
"Everyone dies."
"Don't let her die before her due time."
Due time. The temperature dropped, claws extended, like a raven onto a corpse's eyeballs. Riddick was dimly aware his fists were clinching hard enough to hurt. "Don't let who die?"
The man seemed to be reading a far off book someone had spilled syrup on. "The maiden."
"Yeah. Okay. Last maiden I knew was six years old and about a trillion klicks away." He suffered a sudden pang. He liked Ziza. He'd sent her away before ordering the Necromonger fleet into the Underverse, but if what Susan was darkly hinting was right, she'd been sucked in. Poor kid.
The man made a strange gesture. In the air, images swirled. Jack's face, morphing into Kyra, a spear in her hand and a smile on her lips.
She faded away.
"That one's already dead," Riddick said flatly. And I'm pretty sure she was no maiden. He felt a stab of fury at the tears prickling at his eyes. I failed. Only person I ever loved, and I got her killed. She's dead.
"And you're in dream Death's kingdom," the man said, softly.
"Susan," he snorted.
The man started. "Susan? You mean the Discworld's Death's granddaughter? You know her?"
Riddick's irritation was back. Weren't you listenin'? How many girl death's are out there? "Yeah. Stayin' at her place."
The man frowned, clearly unsettled. "Maybe. She doesn't wear the face of the maiden for you. But sometimes, substitution is the best we can do." He reached out and touched Riddick gently, over his heart. "There are things I could tell you. But I wouldn't dream of interfering with my – with that sister's – kingdom."
Riddick blinked. And then he was back in Binky's paddock, laying on the soft dark grass, ravenously hungry. Binky was there, nuzzling him lightly.
"Huh." Awkwardly, he petted the horse, yet another strange dream fading away. He fished around in his knapsack. Mercifully, there were no sausages. Albert had given him three apples. He let Binky have all of them, while he ate the cheese and bread. They ate in companionable silence. Finally, Binky nuzzled him again, this time insistently.
"What?"
Binky blinked at him.
"You wanna give me a ride back?"
Binky bumped him on the chest, the same place the strange man had touched him in his dream. "Right." Binky's back was bare, and he had no reins. "What the hell." Riddick mounted, bareback, gripping with his knees. Binky took off at a trot, breaking into a gallop after he seemed confident Riddick wasn't going to fall off.
This is fun, Riddick realized, surprised. He wasn't surprised when Binky easily launched himself over the fence. Binky trotted up to Susan, who was waiting impatiently.
"There you are," she said. Clearly, she'd taken the scythe at her hip to what ever had flustered her last time, because she was back to her background state of being annoyed with him. "Come on. You've given us dragons."
The word "asshole" was unspoken, but clearly implied.