“You look like something the cat coughed up.”

Rhas grumbled in annoyance from his perch on Zogrusz’s shoulder, then commented about how that was rich coming from someone who literally lived in the belly of a space fish. Zogrusz had to admit that the old man wasn’t wrong, though – they were dust-smeared, hollow-eyed, and laced with bloody evidence of their fight with the undead snakes.

The golden sphere hovering over Ixia’s shoulder pulsed briefly, and the grinning old man chortled. “Indeed, indeed. Such a pity we couldn’t witness what happened down there. It looks like it was very interesting.” He shifted his attention to Qala, who was loitering next to Anecoya with her tiny hand wrapped around the goddess’s finger. The old man spread his arms wide, the glistening threads plunging into his ancient body rustling with the sudden movement. “My girl, I’m so happy to see you.” Ixia wiggled his fingers, as if trying to entice her to come over and embrace him.

Somewhat reluctantly – at least from Zogrusz’s perspective – Qala released her grip on Anecoya’s finger and went to Ixia, clambering up into his lap.

“Quite the adventure you’ve had!” he said, tousling her golden hair. “But you found what you were looking for, I see.” The Wanderer’s gaze was fixed on the chunk of black crystal the girl had rescued from the underground city, and she drew it close to her chest like she feared he might try and take it from her. “Is it everything you hoped it would be?”

“Suppose so,” the girl mumbled.

“You sent her down there for that?” Anecoya said in exasperation. “She’s just a child!”

Ixia gave her arm an affectionate squeeze. “To be honest, I tried to talk her out of going. But once I told her of Residues she just had to discover what had been left behind.”

“You were right,” the girl murmured, squirming on Ixia as she attempted to get more comfortable. “When you said the Heart is haunted.”

“Haunted?” Zogrusz asked in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I told her,” Ixia replied, reaching out to stroke a gleaming facet. “This here is what remains of the world mind that was once the sum total of all the consciousnesses on that moon. When its people perished, it did as well, leaving this shard of concentrated essence behind.”

“I wanted to see if anything was still inside,” Qala explained. “And there was.”

“S’skesspa,” Rhas murmured.

The little girl nodded. “I brought him back to life, gave shape to the world he remembered. But he wasn’t . . . right.”

“Death rarely improves one’s sanity,” Ixia murmured. “I’ve learned that before.”

“How could you do that? Bring him back?” Rhas sounded shaken, like he couldn’t imagine resurrecting a dead world.

“Qala is a telepath,” Ixia answered. “And one unlike any other I have encountered in all my time in this universe. Her powers are unparalleled.”

The girl’s face reddened, as if she was embarrassed by the praise.

“I doubt very many other beings – if any – could reconstruct a world-mind from the ashes contained within this rock. But my darling ward did . . . which I have to admit opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities.”

“You’re just happy because it means I’m getting stronger,” Qala said. “And that means your project should succeed.”

“Let us not get too confident,” Ixia admonished her. “You did lose control of the ghost.”

“Only a part,” Qala said, somewhat defensively. “The rest was still in here. If he hadn’t realized Zogrusz was an Eldritch Horror, I think I could have made all of him return to the Heart.”

“So what happened down there?” Zogrusz asked, confused by the back and forth between the Wanderer and his ward. “You’re saying the city and the snake-men weren’t real?”

“They were real,” Ixia said. “Thousands of years ago. What you experienced down there was a memory given form and substance.”

“Whose memory?” Zogrusz said, unable to hide his exasperation at this exchange. “Speak clearly!”

“The dead world-mind,” Ixia replied.

“S’skesspa,” Rhas said, and Qala nodded enthusiastically.

“Yup. He wasn’t so bad before you guys arrived. I mean, he wasn’t sane, but returning to life after thousands of years has to be pretty difficult to deal with.” She held up the black crystal, letting it drink the harsh light spilling from the fish’s innards. “We could try to summon him again, but I’m not sure if that’s possible anymore. We left a big part of him raging down there in the ruin of his world . . . though I’m pretty certain he’ll dissipate quickly and return to the Heart. Until that happens, I think what remains in the Heart won’t be able to manifest.”

Ixia took the dark rock from Qala, staring into its shadowy depths. “When a cataclysmic event utterly wipes out an intelligent species, its world mind perishes as well, though their passing is different than their constituent parts. What is left behind is a residue of the aggregate consciousnesses that once gave it form – what I call the Heart. And an echo of the world-mind remains within . . . a ghost, if you will. These Hearts are eternal records of a species, since the substance they are made from is among the most durable in the universe. It could survive a stellar implosion or a descent into the maw of a black hole. I believe whatever entity designed this universe wanted these Hearts to persist forever as eternal histories of every sentient life that has ever existed. I think you can imagine why they make such fascinating objects of study.” His eyes widened, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. “Oh!” he exclaimed, turning his attention to Rhas. “After this Reaper wipes out the cat’s world, I would be very interested in obtaining his Heart. Perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement?”

Rhas’s reply to this was a menacing rumble, but the Wanderer was not deterred. “I should be talking to your companions, since they might actually survive what is coming.”

“I think you should do as you promised,” Anecoya said testily. “And tell us how we can stop this Eldritch Horror from doing the same to our world what that other Reaper did to the moon below.”

Ixia spread his arms wide. “Of course, of course. I always keep my bargains.” He lifted Qala from his lap and set her gently down beside his throne. Then he stood, a brief flicker of effort evident in his face, and began to pace with his hands clasped behind his back. The glistening threads entering his flesh stayed connected to him, pulsing with iridescent light. “You have quite a dilemma,” Ixia said. “My instinct is always to solve problems though negotiations, but the thought of turning aside a Reaper that has traversed the universe to feed with reasoned discourse is, unfortunately, ridiculous. So you need another method of deterring this Eldritch Horror – enlisting the aid of an even more powerful being, finding a weapon capable of slaying the creature, or excising from your world that which it has come to consume.” He stopping his pacing and glanced at them hopefully. “I suppose that’s not an option? You must know that Eldritch Horrors feed on a very particular kind of religious fervor flavored by fear and dread.”

“Are you proposing we eliminate all of his worshippers?” Anecoya asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of Zogrusz. “That was my first thought, and I still think it’s our best course of action.”

Ixia smiled indulgently. “You are quite the unusual Phoenix. Your kind is not usually so . . . bloodthirsty. But no, I wasn’t suggesting a cleansing of this Sower’s followers.”

“And why’s that?” Anecoya asked, her hands on her hips. “Are you also so soft-hearted?”

The Wanderer chuckled. “Far from it. Believe me, I care nothing for the lives of mortals. But let’s imagine you are successful at eradicating his faith, or convincing his followers that he is nothing but a big, loveable space octopus-man. And then what will happen when this Reaper appears in the sky above your world? I think after the first city is flattened by a tentacle the size of a mountain the fear will quickly return. You don’t honestly think that a hungry Horror will simply turn around and head back to the void if it arrives and there are no more cultists on your world? No, when I spoke of removing what the Reaper needs for food, I was referring to consciousness itself. If there are no human minds, it will have nothing to eat.”

“You’re speaking of genocide!” Rhas spluttered. “And my death!”

Ixia held up his hands to calm the angry cat. “As you all saw on the moon below, intelligence waxes and wanes. Another life-form will eventually arise on your world, and by that time, Zogrusz here would have been forced to leave so that he can assuage his hunger elsewhere.”

“That is unacceptable,” Zogrusz said, his claws digging into his palms. “We are here because we want to save the humans . . . and Rhas.” Anecoya nodded vigorously at this, her jaw set.

The Wanderer sighed. “Then a fight it has to be. Very well. I shall describe for you all the allies and weapons that might give a Reaper pause.” He cleared his throat as if preparing for a long speech. “First let us consider the Spear of Koth-Aman, forged by the Celestial Artificer himself. It is said that –”

He startled as a whisper slipped into his mind, spoken in the Wanderer’s distinctive drawl. He glanced at Ixia, but the old man wasn’t looking at him, continuing to describe some spear that could purportedly slay an Eldritch Horror.

Ixia was now gesticulating and speaking passionately to his rapt companions, but the outside world had faded for Zogrusz, and he could only hear the Wanderer’s telepathic messages.

Ixia told him.

Indignation surged in Zogrusz.

Ixia replied calmly.

Zogrusz considered interrupting the Wanderer as he was speaking to his companions, but the old man must have sensed this, as more words hurriedly spilled into his mind.

Zogrusz said.

Ixia told him confidently.

Zogrusz said forcefully, and if his companions had not been so invested in what Ixia was saying they would have seen his mouth-tendrils writhing angrily.

the Wanderer replied. Zogrusz could sense the confidence seeping from the Wanderer, and he knew the old man absolutely believed what he was saying. This realization frightened him.

Ixia continued.

This odd statement pulled Zogrusz from his pit of self-loathing.

Ixia’s reply was tinged with a rising excitement.

The voice in his head paused, as if for dramatic effect.

Zogrusz mentally shrugged.

A telepathic sigh gusted through his mind.

Ixia must have been able to sense how much difficulty Zogrusz was having following this explanation, because he suddenly glanced over at him and frowned.

Zogrusz blinked in surprise.

Ixia heaved another sigh, this time tinged by annoyance.

Ixia said fervently.

Zogrusz said to the Wanderer, attempting to untangle himself from their telepathic bond.

Ixia allowed him to go, but before the link was completely severed the old man dispatched one more message.

Zogrusz gasped as his awareness returned and the Wanderer’s words once again filled his ears.

“ . . . and the Weaver in Darkness lairs in the most forsaken pockets of the universe, spinning her webs around stars as she waits for her prey. I strongly doubt even Reapers could break the strands she weaves.”

Anecoya interrupted the old man with a frustrated growl. “A forsaken pocket of the universe? Of all these cosmic beings and artifacts you have just described, are there any that are not lost or hidden or a thousand star systems away?”

“None,” Ixia replied blandly.

“Then why are you telling us about them?” she snapped.

He shrugged. “You wanted to know what could stop a Reaper from consuming your world. I am telling you, as per our agreement.”

Anecoya whirled around, throwing up her hands as she stalked away. “This is a waste of time,” she snarled, and for a moment Zogrusz thought she was going to summon her fire sword or transform into her cosmic shape and start tearing with her beak at the strands webbing the inside of the fish.

“Then it is hopeless,” Rhas sighed bitterly.

“To my knowledge, when a world attracts the attention of a Reaper, this has always been a death sentence. I am sorry, cat.”

“I suppose we were just hoping for a miracle,” Rhas said. The world mind looked more than just dejected, Zogrusz thought – its moon-colored fur has lost its luster, and its breathing was a ragged panting. If they did not return soon, he suspected the cat would not survive much longer. “I am glad I was able to see another star system, at least. Very few world minds have ever done that.”

Rhas turned his haggard little face to Zogrusz. He looked as if he was about to collapse at any moment. “Come on, Zog. It’s time to go home – I would hate to miss my own reckoning.” The cat nodded in the direction of the Wanderer and his ward. “Ixia, Qala – farewell. I can’t say it’s been fun.”

The old man bowed his head . . . and then jerked it up in surprise as the little blonde girl stomped over to Rhas and planted herself in front of him, hands on her hips. “Don’t say goodbye, I’m coming with you!”

“What?” Zogrusz blurted, in perfect unison with Ixia, Rhas, and Anecoya.

The girl beamed at the cat. “I want to see your world! It sounds nice. And I’m bored with this fish.”

“You . . . you can’t do that,” the Wanderer spluttered. “Weren’t you paying attention? There’s a giant monster coming to consume life on that world!”

Qala shrugged. “I’m not scared. And you always said I could leave whenever I wanted to. Well, I want to.”

Ixia’s mouth worked soundlessly, and his ashen skin had somehow paled even further.

Qala ignored him, bending down to scoop up Rhas, and then hugged the cat to her chest so hard its eyes looked like they might pop out of its head. Or perhaps the world mind was simply extremely shocked about this sudden turn of events.

“Come on!” Qala cried. “Let’s go ride the bird again!”