As Zolantos neared

the fabled continent of Sacrozast

in his lasercopter,

he put the aircraft’s fold drive into idle,

and he and the sorcery-machine

were plucked out of fold-space

with a sharp jerk.

The blur of speed receeded,

and the immediate environment

of the lasercopter

shimmered with after-velocity.

There it was,

down on the mountains,

Castle Brave Bone,

a work of sorcery-engineering

so ingenious

that the flows of history had ceased,

creating the certainty

and stability

that had long eluded man.

The Omniverse was civilization itself,

no longer parched

in ebbs,

and no longer drowning

in flows.

Almost a decade had passed

since Zolantos had last visited

this towering behemoth

of sorcery and power,

and many things had occurred

in the interim.

He knew that Annison Lake,

the Grand Matron of the Permanent Now,

had taken a protégé

some time ago,

and the thought gave him pause,

though he would not admit to himself

why.

As the Time Mountains

sped beneath him,

something caught his eye

in the snow below.

He decelerated

ever so slightly,

and peered through his viewfinder.

A group of four women

slowly maneuvered their way

up the crags and slopes,

followed by a small train

of pack animals.

It would be an arduous journey

for anyone,

but these women looked like matrons;

although,

Zolantos had learned long ago

that the devout delighted

in such trials.

He turned off the viewfinder,

and switched his attention

back to Castle Brave Bone,

which loomed in front of him

like an eternal black

thunderbolt,

unbreakable

on top of the mountains.

The lasercopter streamed

over the farms surrounding the Castle.

From this height,

the acolytes in their blue farm dress

looked like

azure flowers littering the ochre fields.

Zolantos pulled back on the throttle,

and the lasercopter

swooped and slowed,

descending into the

front courtyard of the Castle.

The lasercopter’s landing claw

softly clamped onto

the stone floor of the courtyard.

The sorcery-engines sighed in exhaustion —

Zolantos knew

he had pushed the machine too far,

but there was a new urgency

in the Omniverse

that he was not about to disregard.

Through his Cosmic Paranoia,

he could sense

her,

standing at the front gates of the Castle,

the protégé, so young,

yet so clear to him,

a tempestuous, tormented sea

disguised as a girl.

Zolantos felt vertigo,

and he reached out

to grab hold of a seat

to steady himself.

The atoms of her skin,

tickled by the soft fabric of

hyper-translucent gown,

sung to him

from across the distance

between them.

Zolantos

opened the lasercopter’s hatch,

and stepped down to greet

the protégé.

“Good afternoon, my lord,”

she said,

in that husky voice

he knew so well.

He did not look her in the eyes.

“I trust you are Lady Annison,

the Grand Matron’s protégé?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Now he met her gaze.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,

Lady Annison.”

“And you as well, Lord Zolantos.”

“I hope the Grand Matron is well?”

“Quite well,” Annison said, turning to

open the gate.

“She is eager to speak with you.”

“Then we should not keep her waiting.”

Zolantos followed the protégé

into Castle Brave Bone.

Inside,

the entrance hall was mostly empty,

its cavernous silence

only punctured by the occasional

whisper of an acolyte’s

hyper-transculent gown,

or the stray word

by a matron.

The loudest sound was

no doubt

his own bootsteps,

and he felt clumsy

in this Holy Place.

His eyes fell upon

the swinging wisps

of the protégé’s dark hair,

one moment afloat in movement,

the next lazily clinging

to the skin of her bare back.

Zolantos knew then

that the All-or-Nothing

had forsaken him.

The floating specter of the mad seeress,

Phane Li Zat,

who had haunted Castle Brave Bone

since before it had physical form,

noticed Zolantos from her aerie

high in the entrance hall,

and shrieked in ghastly laughter.

“Zolantos the Merciless Cripple!

Zolantos the Butcher!

Zolantos the Orphan-Maker!

Blood-drinker!

Rapist!

Murderer!”

The protégé turned back

to Zolantos

and gave him a reassuring look.

“Do not listen to her,”

the protégé said.

“She is a mad fool.”

“Is it so foolish to speak the truth?”

Zolantos replied.

The protégé shrugged.

“She is still mad.”

The protégé led Zolantos

to the administrative hall,

and to the door

of the Grand Matron of the Permanent Now.

So many years,

thought Zolantos,

and everything feels the same.

Something is wrong...

something is wrong

with the the Omniverse.

“Just this way,”

said the protégé,

not realizing that Zolantos

knew the way all too well,

that he knew

the Grand Matron

quite well too.

But did he know

her?

Annison Lake?

The protégé knocked on the door.

“We are here, Grand Matron,”

the protégé said.

to be continued...