61

The Mind is a Universe

Two waterfalls gushed down the rock face of the deep cavern in twin silver cascades, spewing their contents into an underground river. Candle and Zephi came to a halt at the rocky banks, bent double and winded. Behind them, the green orbs winked out and the vast cavern was once more bathed in peace. Only the merry gurgle and splash of falls disturbed the tranquillity. The river before them ran fast and clean before disappearing into the bowels of the earth, a gaping maw at the base of the rock cliff. Candle eyed it uneasily and moved upstream, turning her back on it. Being careful not to topple in, both girls leaned over the banks and drank their fill with cupped hands. The water was fresh and icy cold.

"Who was that?" asked Candle, when they were finished. "What was that?"

"Old Man Mountain," said Zephi, her eyes growing round again. "Best to let him sleep." She pressed her lips together and shook her head when Candle tried to ask her for more, folding her arms across her chest. So Candle left her alone, enjoying the moment of peace. They sat side by side of the edge of the underground river, listening to the rush of the waters. She let her legs dangle in the river and let her thoughts wander. Zephi sat beside her fiddling with a piece of her hair.

After a while the little girl got up and ran to the rocks at the edge of the falls. There was a faint glow coming from the base which Candle had not noticed before. Various mushrooms were growing between the rocks – delicate lacy ones with curling edges and fat bulbous ones in assorted shapes and sizes.

"Are they edible?" asked Candle, leaning back as she watched Zephi darting around the slippery rocks, bending and stooping as the drops pattered around her. The water was a balm to Candle's soul and she wasn't keen to move anytime soon. But her stomach growled, reminding of the limitations of flesh and blood. She swallowed a groan. Drinking had helped but she still felt empty inside. She tried not to watch with too much excitement as Zephi triumphantly held up a handful of glowing mushrooms.

"Food!" she said, and Candle's stomach flip-flopped with anticipation. Zephi brought them over and Candle examined the fleshy fungi with interest. It was brown and speckled, the faint luminescence fading as she poked at it. Raising it to her nose, she sniffed. The scent was earthy and rich.

"How do you know which ones you can eat?" she asked.

"I tried them all," said Zephi. She pointed to the delicate filigree of fungi growing to one side. It glowed a dim green, remind Candle of the mountain giant's orbs. "These ones make you laugh until you cry and then you see horrible things." She pointed to a white high domed one with a long stem. The cap let off a ghostly white light, spores floating around it in a gentle haze. "These ones taste really bad, worse than imp. They make everything hurt inside." Zephi held up the modest brown ones that she had collected. "These ones are good."

"Cooked or raw?" asked Candle, her stomach rumbling.

"Hot is most tasty."

Zephi made a flame with her index finger and held a mushroom over it, rotating it till all the fleshy parts were browned. It shrank a little, but the smell made Candle's mouth water. Zephi handed it to the older girl with great ceremony and beamed in delight when Candle ate it quickly. The flavour was dense and a little bland but it was wonderfully filling after being hungry for so long. Zephi delved in her back pocket and made herself an imp leg sandwich. Candle tore her eyes away from the sight and concentrated on filling her own aching belly. The pair ate as much as they could and then stuffed the rest in Candle's bag.

"Time to find the tomb," Candle said, standing up and stretching. She glanced at the water some regret, but they couldn't stay in this cave forever. "You will be able to show me the way?" Zephi nodded vigorously, setting her hair floating in a cloud around her earnest face. Candle bent over the stream, wetting her hair and her clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Demons don't like water. It disrupts their power."

"I don't like water either," said Zephi, looking troubled.

"That's alright," said Candle, "most humans don't like it either."

"You like it because you are a dragon? Sometimes a dragon?"

"Yes. So water severs the connection with Belias – he can't find me while water remains on my skin. I can't do human magic right now, until I kill him anyway but when I'm touching water I can do this –"

She cast a rune in the air, pulling gently on the threads of magic that hovered around the river and spinning them into balls of light. Three golden witch lights bloomed in the air above her. Regarding them with a critical eye she recast them as luminous, sapphire blue and then stood back to admire her handiwork. Zephi's mouth made an 'o' of fascination, the lights dancing in the reflection of her eyes.

"What else can you do?"

"I can paint with light and air," said Candle, "just a little." She concentrated, drew the rune for illusion, and then released the image in her mind one thread at a time until a fully formed rock-wolf sat before them. Its black snout glistened with moisture and its gold and black speckle coat glowed honey-coloured. Zephi's mouth fell open, and she leaned forward, her hands clasped in her lap as the illusion padded softly across the cave floor. Its round ears flickered, just the way Candle remembered, and it turned its head to look at the little girl. Sweat beaded Candle's brow at the effort. The movement of fur and hair were always difficult to create in three dimensions. She expelled a breath and then waved a hand. The illusion dissipated into glowing motes which vanished into the dark.

"What else?" cried Zephi, clapping her hands and Candle smiled at her enthusiasm.

"I can call fire, and water. Some offensive magic, for fighting. Magic that is too dangerous to do here."

"And water doesn't hurt you?"

"Water is an excellent source of power," said Candle, "for this sort of magic. Anything that's in transition. Anything that is between."

"Between?"

"A conduit between the worlds. Doorways, crossroads, rivers, gates. The spaces between."

"I've never been," said Zephi.

"Sorry, what?"

"To the other worlds. I mean, I've never even left the castle." The small girl giggled at the thought and poked her finger at a gleaming witchlight, pushing it high into the air where it bobbed gently.

"You know about the Twilight Kingdom?" said Candle, in some surprise.

"Of course," said Zephi, "everyone knows about the Twilight Kingdom. And the Dawn Kingdom."

"The Dawn Kingdom?"

"Is that where you are from?" Zephi's eyes were wide and curious her pale brows raised so high they were almost lost in the red of her hairline. "Is that how you got here?"

"No," said Candle, thinking quickly. This was dangerous territory. "I'm not from the Dawn Kingdom." She cast about for a means to distract Zephi, and remembered what had sparked the initial discussion. "So water is uncomfortable for humans, " she said, gesturing to the river "and it hurts demons. But iron hurts dragons and demons both."

"But you are holding the dagger?" said Zephi, "earlier you showed me, remember."

"I can hold it but it stings," said Candle. She pulled out the iron and moonsilver blade, laying it flat on her palm. Wriggling her fingers she felt the metal pricking her skin. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable. But she knew if she left it there for any length of time she was sure it would leave a weal. "I am a human right now. If I was a dragon it would hurt a lot more."

"But iron won't be enough to kill a demon," said Zephi.

"No," said Candle. "Not even iron and moonsilver together."

"You will kill him," Zephi said, putting a hand on the older girl's shoulder. "Then you and me can be friends up there." She pointed up, towards the surface.

"First I need to kill the demon," Candle said, swallowing. What was she going to do about Zephi? She couldn't take her home through the gate...maybe she would be able to find somewhere safe to leave her. Someone safe to leave her with. "And I have to survive the experience...then we will have to talk. Help me find the demon's tomb?"

Zephi nodded, and with one last backwards glance at the sleeping cavern exited into the catacombs.

The small girl walked with confidence, taking the turns with easy authority. Occasionally she would glance behind to make sure Candle was keeping up. They passed through dark passageways coated with lichen and mosses, and smooth, corridors lined with smooth slabs of obsidian. They passed through large halls stacked with giant bones – the ancient remains of whales and aurochs and other monstrous creatures which reminded Candle a little of Jotham's front porch. Then they made their way up a winding flight of stairs, and then another, broader set before emerging into a nondescript ossuary. Without the demon's interference and with the small Necromancer girl to guide her, they had arrived at Belias' tomb in barely any time at all.

The tomb. Belias’ tomb.

Candle looked around her. It was an unimpressive resting place. Cold and dusty, like the others, the ceiling barely nine feet high. Unremarkable. Just another forgotten resting place. Candle brushed her finger across the rune that spelled out his name and marked his mortal remains’ final resting spot. She stared down at the dry, desiccated body interred in the hollow. It was hard to imagine that this had once been a living, breathing human, full of hopes and dreams, the bones covered in flesh and blood. It was hard to imagine that this small, pathetic pile of bone and sinew were the source of all her troubles.

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. It was time.

Zephi was standing on her toes, studying the remains with great interest, her eyes bright. Candle put one hand on the girl's thin shoulder.

"Thank you so much for helping me. But now I want you to run and hide – far from here. This will be dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."

"If you kill it," said the small girl, her eyes shimmering, "don't forget about me. You promised to be my friend, remember."

"I know."

Zephi retreated to the dark archway, then turned and looked back at Candle with a considering look on her face. "And if you do die, we can still be friends. Afterwards, I mean. I'll find your bones and bring bits of you back." And then she was gone in a flurry of red hair and bare feet.

"Great," muttered Candle, under her breath. But now was not the time to worry about what Zephi might or might not do with her corpse. She touched a finger to the damp cloth of her hem. They had reached the tomb so quickly the water was still working its magic. She couldn't summon Belias until she was dry again. Unable to relax she paced the chamber, worry gnawing at her stomach and heart pounding at the thought of the deed she was about to attempt.

At last her clothing was dry and she positioned herself in front of the remains of Belias' pitiful physical body. The skull rolled at an angle gaped up at her in morbid mockery. She palmed her moonsilver and iron blades, one in each hand, and spaced her feet apart in perfect balance. This was it. The reason she had come to the Night Nation. This was the moment that would decide the rest of her life. Hopefully, that life would not end here tonight, in this dank old tomb.

Her mouth suddenly dry, she clutched her dagger with hands slick with sweat. Inhaling deeply she held her daggers behind her back. This was no time for second thoughts.

"Belias," she said, and the demon materialized instantly. An inky cloud of coiling smoke and oily vapours coalesced into solid form, liquid malevolence brought to life.

Before he could do anything, before he could freeze her bones, or bury her in a vision she made to plunge the dagger through his body. One blade for the dried out husk, another for the demon. The blade through his physical body was easy, like slicing through cobwebs. The demon recoiled, snarling, lips peeled away from his face in outrage. But although she had moved fast, reacting almost as soon as he had materialised, still she was too slow. As her muscles bunched he lifted a hand, shadows shifting and drifting around his fingers and held her immobilised. She struggled. The veins stood out on her arm as she strained to lower the blade, sweat dripping off her forehead at the effort.

The demon's coal black eyes slid sideways to the dagger buried hilt deep in his mortal remains. "Mistress," he hissed. "What are you trying to do?" He grinned, the smile stretching wider and wider until his whole face was one gaping maw of coiling shadows. The blade in her fist was moving, turning slowly and fighting against her grip. Holding it fast with all her strength she groaned with the effort. It shuddered and twisted until she was forced to let go. She dropped it with a gasp but the dagger hung suspended in midair. Belias held her body fast with whatever dark magic the demon possessed and she was forced to watch as the blade turned with agonising slowness and positioned the point a finger’s breadth from her left eye. The silver edge glinted and she blinked. It moved closer, unnervingly close, to her vulnerable eye and she held her breath, willing her body to move. It wouldn't obey. She let out a hiss of frustration, grunting with the effort, fighting against the demon's hold. One leg moved half an inch towards the demon and her breath quickened.

Candle could see it was an effort for his magic to touch the metal while also holding her in place. She fought against him and the dagger shook in midair. A second later she managed to move her other leg and the blade dropped to the ground with a clatter. Released, she dove for it, not allowing herself a second to breathe in relief. Grabbing the handle she scooped it up and stabbed towards the demon's heart. Or where his heart would be if he were alive. Again he stopped her, paralysing her limbs.

"Do not toy with me, Mistress," he spat. "You are mine body and soul, do not forget that. I can kill you at any time. You are only useful to me as long as you are obedient..."

"I have never been obedient," Candle growled, and she thought that Belias might have flinched. It was true, she realised. She had never done anything the demon had demanded of her, and she wasn't about to start now. The blade shuddered and dropped again. Once more she swooped down and leapt for him.

"Stop it," he hissed.

"No."

Her hand shook from the effort of holding the blade, and again he took it from her, but they were both shaking. She glanced over the remains of his body, the moonsilver and iron blade pinned through the mummified mess. Would he kill her? Candle was sure he could, but then he would be without a vessel, and without hope. If demons hoped.

"Stop it!" He cried and the tomb exploded outwards into a vision landscape. Belias flew apart, as if exploding into a dark star. The parts of him reassembled, like pieces of a sinister puzzle. In place of his usual, maggoty, shadowy face was the face of a teenage girl. The girl was slight and copper skinned with wild, flyaway black curls and vivid blue eyes. The eyes were the colour of the ocean at twilight and they blazed with anger. It was a shock to see herself made flesh in demon form, and Candle took a step back. Was this the girl that others saw when they looked at her? But no, this face blazed with anger, the eyes filled with a passionate rage that Candle had never worn. The Other Candle's head was held high. She wore confidence and pride effortlessly, a sneer painted on her lips. A beautiful gown covered her body from shoulders to feet, the sort of garment that Candle had never had the opportunity to wear ­– black and flowing, pooling around her feet in elegant waves.

"What are you trying to do," said the Other Candle. The voice was strangely layered, the sibilant hiss of the demon overlaid with her own higher register. "What are you hoping to accomplish?"

"Your death," Candle said, from between gritted teeth, "and my freedom."

"And yet, this is a foolish hope. When have you ever been able to accomplish anything? Without me you are nothing, without constant help and attention from others you are nothing. Death is too good for you. You should beg me to end you. For release."

Candle screamed and ran at the girl with the dagger. The Other Candle flew up, her skirts billowing around her and looked down at her scornfully.

"You don't get it, do you," the demon whispered. "The world would truly be a better place without you."

"That's not true."

"It is true. Think about it. If you were better your parents would have loved you. If you were worth loving you would have earned their acceptance. If you were better you would have saved your village. If you were faster and stronger and smarter your sister would live.”

"No,” her voice shook. “I tried to save them."

"You did not try. You ran away like a child, leaving them all to die. And you wonder why your Ancestors ignore you. It is because you disgust them. You know this is the truth. You bled your fingers praying and they never answered. Not one. Your brother sold you to me, your father hated you, you mother lied to you your whole life. Your sister discarded everything you said. You were scorned, mocked, abused. Your friends were an imaginary old woman and a goat-herd whose affection you bought with desserts.

“If it wasn't for you. Aeshma would still live. His death is on your soul. How many have died by your hand? Or by your actions? Or your inactions?" The Other Candle threw back her head and laughed, peal upon peal of wicked laughter. "Two? Ten? One hundred? You are a stain on the earth. No one will mourn your passing. No one will even notice if you don't return. You are a maggot. A slug. Nothing."

"It's not true. I tried to help."

"If you had been stronger, if you were better. Maybe you could have saved Aeshma. But you are not. You are an arrogant fool. A waste. You could have killed Ronove but you hesitated. Your hesitation resulted in an innocent death."

"I didn't know."

The girl's mouth twisted into a wide, cruel smile.

"It's your fault, for being weak, for trying to show off when you are nothing. You are NOTHING, just the same pitiful loner who ran into the night with her tail between her legs. Leaving them to die. A coward. Always fleeing, always trying to disappear – a mouse when you could be a lion. Death is too good for you, instead you will waste away all the years of your life knowing you are nothing and that no one loves you. No one could ever love you."

A tear rolled down Candle's cheek.

"And so it will end, here in the darkness. No one will ever know and no one will ever care."

"Jotham is waiting for me."

The Other Candle shrugged.

"I doubt it. Pathetic. Just look at you, you half-breed mongrel. Your only ally is a reptile who pities you because he is lonely. Do you think he would look at you twice if he had met another dragon in the last millennium?”

“No.”

“You know it is true. What could he possibly see in you?”

Candle swallowed, her eyes pricking.

"Locryn and the others, they are all waiting for me."

"They have forgotten you," said the demon who wore Candle's face. "And if they remembered you they would hate you. You came to their aid. You bled for them. You killed for them, and do they appreciate it? They turned on you. They would lock you away in a tower. And all for what?" The Other Candle's hair drifted around her head like a dark halo. "One last time I make the offer. This is who you truly are, who you should be."

Her heart turned into a blackened lump as she listened. It was hard to hear the things the darkest parts of her whispered to her as she struggled to sleep in the deep of the night. It was hard to hear her own thoughts echoing back at her with such venom and power.

"Accept it. Accept me, and you will never be ignored again in your life. One word is all it will take."

"No."

The Other Candle's face split in rage and she stretched out her arms. Lightning cracked across her body as it levitated up and up into the air. Candle looked up at this dark vision of herself with open-mouthed shock. She leapt aside hastily as a lightning bolt sizzled through the air, burning a hole in the place she had just vacated.

"Then choose death."

Dark Candle's eyes blazed with hatred and power, and a small part of Candle had to admit it was beautiful. A small part of her looked at the girl, the woman before her and felt a tiny bit of regret. Candle would always doubt, would always second guess her choices, would always try to please. The Other Candle cared for nothing and nobody. She was wild and free and utterly uncaring. This Candle would never feel small, would never have to answer to others.

A small flash of red hair caught Candle's attention and she realised that Zephi had not obeyed her. The Other Candle radiated dark energy and Candle winced as debris rained down on her. She had to get away, or Zephi might get hurt. Besides, she thought, looking up at Belias' raging, beautiful body, this had gone on long enough. The job was only half done.

Belias had encased her in a vision of darkness but she knew they were still in the tomb, she could feel the stone floors beneath her feet. Ignoring the evidence of her eyes she focused on finding the energy that flowed between worlds like a river and pulled into her in a refreshing, wholesome stream.

"Run, Zephi," she yelled, and the child ran.

Candle's eyes snapped open and her skin burst into scales. Her body swelled in size and power. The Other Candle shrieked with rage, and maybe a little fear? But the tomb was too small for the bulk of her dragon body, her wings were caught against the ceiling, her back straining against the walls. She pushed and strained, snapping at the Other Candle and felt something give.

Rocks tumbled as the passage collapsed inwards. With a giant swish of her tail Candle swept more pillars away, and the rocky ceiling flew down on top of Dark Candle who screamed and cursed. She dove upwards, fighting her way through rock and stone, dust and bones raining down on top of her. She blasted them out of the way with a burst of energy, worming her way upwards, out of the stifling dead air of the catacombs.

The rocks burst wide open, and starlight filled her sight. Gleefully Candle bunched her muscles and leapt up and out. She was unable to move properly in the tombs but in the open air she would have the upper hand. At last she hoped.

The Other Candle rose out of the ruins her hands held wide, dark energy sizzling up and down her arms, rolling across her chest. Candle breathed a torrent of fire at her opponent and the Other Candle deflected it with her hands. The blue plume of flame melted the nearby rocks, turning them into molten lumps. The Other Candle flew high into the air, her hair streaming behind her in the wind, the starlight gleaming on her face.

"Is that all you can do?"

The Other Candle let loose a plume of blackbright fire and Candle dodged. How could she defeat herself? A version of herself with access to all the power a demon had to offer. A version of herself with no limits and no qualms? A silver strip of water gleamed in the distance. Candle turned and fled towards the sea.

"You can't run," screamed the Other Candle, from behind her. A wave of darkness tore through the air and she veered away. It missed her cheek by a hairsbreadth. She flew wildly, trying to make her flight path unpredictable.

"You pathetic, tiny fool. Fly if you want. You always run. You never stand your ground. You should do the world a favour and just give up. Stop trying, stop running."

Candle didn't turn to look, didn't turn to listen but kept true to her path. The gleam of the sea growing closer with every wingbeat.

"Don't you ever tire of running? Don't you ever just want to stop? Sleep? Give in? Do as we say."

The sea was soon a silver mirror in front of her. She landed in the water with a splash, silver droplets cascading off her scales. The cool salt liquid enveloped her. As always, the water was a balm to her soul. It slid over her scales, energising her, washing her clean, soothing her fear. She turned to face Candle-Belias.

"You think you are clever," they said, in that strange double voice. "But now you have merely changed the location of your death. You will succumb, or you will die. You can still choose to live. Choose wisely."

Candle laughed.

"You already said I only had one chance," she said, "And here you are, offering it to me again."

Other Candle screamed and hurled a fistful of blackbright energy at Candle's head. She dodged, sending back a fistful of light spears that cut a humming trail of deadly light through the air. The Other Candle laughed and spun away, her skirts swirling. Candle took to the sky, water streaming off her body as they fought. Twisting and clawing, neither could get the upper hand and they broke apart panting. The Other Candle’s hair was a wild tangle in the wind, and Candle’s body ached from a dozen scrapes and near misses. Candle eyed the deep ocean waters below, the shoreline limned with bioluminescent energy. The Other Candle lifted her hand, darkness crackling across her palms and Candle charged directly at her. She tackled the demon square in the chest and they crashed down in a tangle of limbs and fangs. Candle screamed as the black energy burned her with cold fire, ripping at her skin. It hurt so much. They landed in the ocean, with a mighty splash and a hiss of evaporating water. Candle transformed back into her human body, and drove the blade through Other Candle’s chest. Candle felt her heart flutter, as if the blade was in her own body and she felt, rather than heard the Other girl scream.

The girl’s face melted revealing the demon's old face. Belias screamed and his face dissolved, shattering, disintegrating, the dark flesh peeling back. The ink-black shadows melted, drifting away on the gentle breeze to reveal a human face. It was a nice face, a young man's face, perhaps early thirties, his hair blonde and his skin burned copper by the sun. His eyes were brown and full of sadness as he looked at Candle. His lip twitched upwards into a half-smile.

"Thank you," he whispered to Candle, as he dissolved into mist.