The fish was not as empty as Zogrusz had believed. Traveling the glowing golden filament, he glimpsed strange things sequestered down branching paths or perched on distant floating platforms, including what looked like a house made of coral balancing on crustacean-like legs, its door a great shell; the gleaming black statue of some four-legged animal, upon which blood-red flowers were blooming; and a jade head with eyes that followed them as they passed, its lips set in a disapproving frown.

“It’s like a collection,” Rhas murmured.

“Wander the universe for an eon or two and you probably pick up a few things,” Anecoya replied, rubbing at the fading wound on her shoulder as she stared at a massive corvid sitting on the limb of a silver tree. The bird cocked its head, regarding them as they passed with eyes of glittering obsidian. Zogrusz wondered if it felt any kinship with the bird-goddess.

“I think we have arrived,” Zogrusz said when he noticed that the filament they were following terminated at a platform that was far larger than any he had yet seen. Most of this great space was empty, but something large and jagged was thrusting up from the platform’s center. It almost resembled one of the stalagmites that had formed in his cavern after many ages of water dripping down from above, but as they neared, Zogrusz realized that this haphazard pile of the same opalescent substance as the platforms and pathways was in truth a great chair. Ensconced in this throne was a tiny, wizened being that looked like a human male who had lived several centuries too long. He was dressed in faded red robes patterned with silvery geometric designs, and a sphere of shimmering gold hovered beside him.

“Aha!” the man cried, clapping his desiccated hands together sharply. “My unexpected but by no means unwelcome guests! I am known in many places as the Wanderer, but I invite you to use the name first given to me – Ixiathycolapsus k’Veringian. Or Ixia, if that’s easier to remember.”

Rhas settled on his haunches a hundred paces from the Wanderer, Anecoya and Zogrusz taking up positions flanking the world-mind.

“Greetings, Ixiathycolapsas k’Verin -”

“Ixiathycolapsus,” interrupted the ancient creature.

Rhas’s tail swished in annoyance. “Excuse me?”

“Ixiathycolapsus not Ixiathycolapsas. On my home world – which is now a cinder orbiting a dead star, bless its memory – using the wrong vowel there could be construed as a declaration of war. Or a desire to mate . . . which come to think of it might be why my species went extinct.”

Rhas blinked his golden eyes very slowly, as if struggling to process these bizarre ramblings. “Ixia, then.”

“Very acceptable,” the Wanderer said with a grin that nearly cracked his face.

“Greetings, Ixia,” the moon-colored cat tried again after a moment spent collecting himself. “I am Rhas, the avatar of a planetary world-mind. And my companions are Zogrusz and Anecoya.”

The old man shifted, leaning forward in interest at the introductions. Zogrusz noticed with a trickle of unease that his flesh seemed to be connected to the throne on which he sat, several ropes of the pearlescent material passing into his body.

“Yes, the Phoenix and the Eldritch Horror. It has been quite a long time since either of your races have entered my home. Welcome, welcome.” He frowned, squinting at them. “And both of you are orphans, it seems. More and more interesting.”

“Orphans?” Zogrusz repeated, sharing a confused look with Anecoya. “What do you mean by that?”

The old man sank back, spidery fingers curling around the armrests of his throne. “Ah, you already wish to trade information? Right into negotiations, then. But I doubt this knowledge is truly why you have come. Well . . . perhaps I can give you this small insight as a gesture of good faith, especially after you helped me with my little pest infestation.”

“You mean the insects?” Rhas interjected in surprise.

Ixia sighed deeply. “Yes. I don’t know where I picked up the damn things. Killing the queen first was smart, I have to say. They lost quite a bit of coordination when the Horror here – Zogrusz, is it? – when he blasted it with his mind.” Ixia chuckled as if amused by the memory, shaking his head. “What was I saying? Oh yes, orphans. Quite rare to encounter cosmic orphans, and two at the same time is unprecedented, even for me.”

“What are you talking about?” Anecoya fairly growled in annoyance, but if the Wanderer noticed her tone it did not bother him.

“I suppose as orphans you simply wouldn’t know,” he continued as the golden orb came to drift above his age-spotted head. “Very well, let me start at the foundations. You see, my dear, there are two ways that a cosmic entity emerges. The first is that an otherwise mortal being makes themselves . . . more than what they once were. It may surprise you to hear this, but I was born merely a man on a backwater world at the fringes of creation. My journey from the floor of that swamp-hut to the belly of dear Galuga here is a fascinating tale, let me assure you, but we shall save that for another time. Now, the other sort of cosmic beings, of course, are simply born or . . . how should I say it . . . spring into existence. You both belong to such species. And most entities like this do not waste their time raising their own progeny. No, since most cosmic beings have significant telepathic powers, they are simply imprinted with the knowledge they need to understand what they truly are when still very young. But occasionally before such a process occurs a juvenile cosmic being wanders away from their nursery, or perhaps their parents fall victim to something out there that feeds on celestial creatures. I call these unfortunates orphans. The imprinting does eventually take place . . . but now it happens when this orphan encounters its first sentient creature, and their still-gestating personality is shaped by this experience. Both of you, I can confidently say, were imprinted by a mortal. A human, to be precise, on one of the many worlds where that species has arisen.”

Zogrusz thought back to the first time he had entered another mind. She had been nursing her babe beside the campfire as he watched from the darkened jungle . . . had his nature been irrevocably altered at that moment? Was this why he had always felt such an affinity for humans, and also the reason why, when he had finally met another Eldritch Horror, that the creature had seemed so . . . alien? He felt light-headed, overwhelmed by what this ancient traveler had just claimed. One of the abiding mysteries of his existence may have finally been solved.

“You called me a Phoenix,” Anecoya said, apparently not as dizzied by these revelations as Zogrusz. “What is that?”

Ixia raised a knobby finger, wagging it at her. “If you desire more answers we shall have to negotiate a trade. I didn’t acquire all that I have by simply giving away secrets that are coveted by others.” He blinked watery eyes. “Or is that why you have traveled so far? To learn about your kind?”

“No, no,” Rhas said hurriedly to forestall Anecoya, as she appeared ready to demand just such answers. “We have a far more pressing problem.”

The old man raised a bristly white eyebrow and steepled his fingers. “I am listening.”

“The world we reside on – my world – is in danger. We have learned that an Eldritch Horror Reaper is coming to harvest its life.”

“Of course,” the Wanderer mused, gesturing at Zogrusz. “No doubt this Sower here has seeded it with just the sort of dread that Horrors crave.”

“I didn’t realize what would happen,” Zogrusz muttered defensively.

Ixia nodded. “I suppose you would not, being an orphan. And now, having been shaped by the humans you first imprinted with, you do not wish to witness the destruction of this world. Or at least not be the one responsible for it.” A series of high-pitched chimes sounded from the golden sphere hovering over the Wanderer. He glanced up and then chuckled. “Yes, yes. This does remind me of the Helias Conundrum. But say no more, as I would rather not scare our dear guests away.”

Zogrusz shared a glance with his companions. Rhas gave a confused cat-shrug, while Anecoya looked ready to stomp over to the throne and start shaking the old man until his few remaining teeth rattled out of his head.

“I will provide what assistance I can in this matter,” the Wanderer continued, leaning forward again, his smile now almost predatory. “But in return, I will need you to perform a task for me. You see, my ward has gone missing, and I want him back.”