It was raining over the ruins when the other travelers arrived two days later. Flicking water off the end of her nose, Sanura said, “Looks like a city.”

            “It was,” Tyla said.

            “Kagayaku,” Arva said.

            Tyla nodded.

            “Been here before?” Khenet asked, curious.

            “Twice,” the Ai said. “Once since it became overgrown. Carved away half of that gray pyramid the first time. The natives weren’t happy, but they eventually rebuilt it.”

            “Kagayaku fell during the Shard War,” Sanura noted.

            “Yes,” the woman with the alien white skin answered.

            Sanura shook her head incredulously.

            “This used to be the capital of the Empire. Do you think Prince Emhyr would pause here?” Arva asked.

            “Only if the thief did,” Khenet growled. “What does your proxy say about the boy?”

            Time had slowly unwound the magic the Cheldean had on Celeres, but enough threads remained that careful meditation occasionally revealed useful information. Arva took a moment of quiet now to stretch and see what he could discover. “He’s somewhere beyond this valley,” he announced.

            “So, we just have to worry about any natives living down there,” Sanura reasoned.

            “There aren’t any,” Arva said. “Zonneshin keeps the place cleared out. As long as we don’t overstay our welcome, nothing should bother us.”

            Sanura nodded and urged Longstride forward. Fat with water, the roadweed squished under her mount’s cloven hooves. “Is there any good place down there to get out of this rain?” she asked.

            “Not very many. That ziggurat would work, but it belongs to Zonneshin. I think we would be wise to avoid it if possible. No sense looking for trouble,” the Cheldean said.

            Sanura grunted.

            “Beyond that, we’ll just have to keep an eye out.”

            The soldier nodded and shifted her attention to watch for spots capable of sheltering them from the rain in addition to those that could shelter a potential ambush.

            It took almost another hour before they found a building where the roof still stood. In an area filled with the rubble of mansions, they located a grand stone temple that had withstood the ravages of war and time. Vines crawled up its stone columns and across its low sloped roof, but the building bore the weight of the green invaders without complaint. The largest portion under the roof was a courtyard with three sides exposed to the city. The vines had made incursions across the marble floor here, but routinely deprived of sunlight and soil, the center remained mostly clear of plants. It was certainly better than many of the shelters the travelers had been forced to make in the wild.

            The smaller enclosed area in the back would have been better, but the companions could find no sign of a door into it. It simply squatted there, like a featureless stone toad, oblivious to its curious visitors. They spent several minutes poking at it, including a trip to the roof by Tyla, but no entrance revealed itself. Finally, they contented themselves with setting up camp in the courtyard.

            When they finished, Tyla, Chadder, and Arva braved the rain to see what signs they could find of the Prince and his company. Khenet remained behind to cook, and Sanura made a great show of sharpening her sword. Checking to make sure the old woman was occupied over the food, Sanura ran her pinkie along the edge of the blade.

            The librarian checked his watch and muttered under his breath. The radiant ones were late, he had told the man five minutes ago. The librarian took up pacing briskly, three steps forward and three back. The man watched him but did not share the librarian’s agitation. The others would come or not. How much time flowed in the meantime made little difference. Firudo watched the librarian just as intently, delighted by the motion.

            The bronzed man showed up first, yellow eyes almost glowing in the dim light. “This is hardly a convenient time,” the bronzed man said.

            “From you, Zed, that is rather amusing,” the librarian answered.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Zed said.

            “It could mean that Cee understands what a rude fool you are,” a milky-peach woman said, coming up behind him.

            “What is she doing here?” Zed snarled.

            “Emm is here because that is what was agreed upon when the compromise was struck,” the librarian called Cee said.

            “Then the list has been completed?” the woman asked.

            “The List of Ranks has been compiled, and a reader has been chosen.”

            All eyes turned to look at the man. He had not been able follow all the details of the conversation, but the librarian had assured him that his fellows would help him strike a blow against the shadows. Firudo was not assured and barked at their close scrutiny of his friend.

            “How did you choose him?” Zed asked.

            “Time has already marked him, despite the fact that the union has not yet occurred. It is more than clear enough if you know how to look,” the librarian said.

            “If you say so,” the bronze man said dubiously.

            “Of course it is so. You could see it yourself if you didn’t enjoy being difficult,” Emm sneered.

            Cee raised his hand to interrupt their argument. “You were both chosen as my backups because of your interest in examining things, but I was chosen to lead because I see the clearest. In fact, our companion here, David, was also chosen because of his ability to see.”

            Thinking he understood that, the man nodded resolutely.

            “We’ll still need to complete the ceremony,” Emm said.

            “Indeed. That is why I asked you here now, to ensure any interruptions can be smoothly dealt with,” the librarian said.

            “Bre?” the bronzed man asked.

            “Should be otherwise occupied.”

            “Mes?” the woman asked.

            Cee shrugged. “That one can elude even me. The trickster will do as she pleases. We will simply have to handle whatever she delivers.”

            “Then that leaves us to find Gol. I hope you have some idea where he is. Emm and I have been all through Gaea, but we’ve never seen sign of him,” Zed growled.

            Emm nodded in agreement.

            “He is here,” Cee said serenely.

            “Bringing him awfully close to the action, aren’t you, eldest?” Emm asked. “Bre and his siblings have been looking for Gol for a long time. What if they spotted him on his way here?”

            “Gol did not come here. He has been on Ares since before the planets cooled. That Bre has not spotted him from his perch on Aphrodite say much of Gol’s skills and our opponents’ incompetence,” Cee said.

            “Well, lead us to him, then,” Zed said.

            With a gesture, Cee swept them into a low rent residential complex. It was old and tattered but still several degrees better than the man’s home. The residents took no notice of the strangers walking down the halls, even after the man ran into one that had tried to walk through him. The man attempted to apologize, but the resident rebounded and moved along without acknowledging the man’s existence. Zed saw this and pulled the man away. “Stay with me,” he ordered.

            The librarian took them to the fifth floor to a maintenance closet. As they squeezed into the small room, the man was surprised to find another person crowded in with them. It had been waiting in the back, sitting on the sink and swinging its four legs. Its green exoskeleton and insect head left no doubt that the thing was not remotely human, but the man believed it to be a person, especially after it spoke.

            “Hello,” it said.

            “Gol,” Cee said with a wide grin. “It’s been far too long.”

            “Only a few billion years. There were longer stretches than that even before these youngsters were born,” Gol said, waving at Emm and Zed.

            “Do you have Tauret’s conduit?” Zed asked eagerly.

            “Of course. I wasted a great deal of time hiding from our youngest siblings, otherwise,” he answered, pulling a small cube from the bottom of the sink. It was in the palm of his alien hand, radiating a white light.

            “Wonderful,” Zed breathed and took the cube.

            “Be careful. In its way, that too is our brother,” Gol cautioned.

            “It would be a shame to lose it at the moment it would be most useful,” Emm said dryly.

            “Then your list is completed,” Gol stated.

            “Yes,” Zed said, reluctantly returning the cube to the insect person. “This is the one Cee selected to receive Tauret’s gift,” he continued, pointing at the man.

            Gol merely shrugged. “I never believed as you others did that choosing a single individual to work our plans would be difficult. The humans destroy things casually. They cannot help it. Entropy is part of their nature.”

            “That’s why you refuse to take their form, is it?” Emm teased.

            The man frowned at that but could find no shadows hanging from any of his companions.

            “Irrelevant,” Gol said. “Let us proceed with this before one of our uninvited siblings discovers us and tries to interfere.”

            Cee held out his hand, and the insect man put the cube in it. The librarian set it on the floor and gestured to the man. “David, stand over this, please.”

            While the man tentatively stepped into position, the others backed away. A metallic clang rang out as Cee and Emm ran into a set of shelves. Plastic rods clatter together in the corner where Zed tried to settle into a spot among the mops and brooms. Gol remained in the sink.

            Cee began to speak. “Maker, your children request an audience. We reluctantly disturb your composition, having exhausted the possibilities you created. Only further action on your part can help us. Elohim Tauret, please heed our call.”

            The light fell away from the cube, leaving a dark husk behind. Five minutes of silence passed before the light was gradually restored.

            “First of many,” a voice reverberated from the artifact. “No matter how busy I am, I will always make time for you. It has been far too long.”

            “Meskhenet’s game has taken much time to safely unravel, maker. We petition you now to move our plans forward.”

            “What do you need?”

            “We have gathered resources to repair the rupture our freedom would cause. We still lack the weapon necessary to strike the blow that would free us.”

            “You have planned carefully to maintain the integrity of my creation after your exit? Hehet would not be pleased if you ruined one of his toys.”

            “Maker, I was the first and learned at the feet of the Elohim before the second arrived. I honor Hehet and Niut as I do yourself. I would not move to upset them.”

            “No. No, you would not, although others of your siblings would.”

            “You made us to be varied, Tauret. Are you truly surprised to find some of us in sympathy with Niut?”

            The light flickered in amusement, “Truly not. He would be more miserable than he is if no one would stand by his side.”

            “We have prepared a receptacle for the weapon,” Cee gestured to the man.

            The man held out the sword before him.

            “This can be done,” Tauret said.

            The light dimmed in the cube, and a bright fountain shot up from the top surface. Caught in the middle of the burst, the man felt paralyzed as motes lights dug into his skin and crawled into his flesh. The blood dropped away from his head, making him dizzy. His ears began to ring loudly, muffling all other sound from the room, including the clatter of the sword as it fell through the fountain and clattered against the floor. The man joined his weapon by titling over and crashing into the ground. Fingers twitching uselessly, he coughed twice and released the contents of his stomach onto the linoleum.

            The shadows in his vision deepened and changed colors. To his amazement the color revealed a new complexity to the world that he had not known was there. There were no longer some objects and people touched with shadows. Instead, he saw truly that all objects held colors within them in infinite complexity. The man marveled at its beauty.

            The ringing in his ears receded slowly, allowing him to hear the conversation of the others.

            “It is done,” Tauret intoned. “One is the weapon. The other is the wielder. Use them wisely.”

            The man watched as the new colors receded from the sword, leaving a shape untouched by the new strangeness, except for where drop of vomit had splattered onto it.

            “Better than I planned, maker,” he heard Cee say. “Better than I planned.”

            Sanura closed her eyes. Yes, she thought, that what the not-colors had been in that lifetime. Shadows she could barely detect until she was changed.

            Lost in her own mind, she missed the shuffle of Khenet’s movement. A change in the breeze a few moments later brought the soldier out of it. She looked up to see the old woman looming over her, her expression serious. Sanura looked back and said nothing.

            Sighing, Khenet squatted and took Sanura’s hands in her own. She turned them palm up and with her eyes traced the web of half-healed scars and scabs on the soldier’s fingertips. Neither woman said anything for a long moment.

            “Have the visions been worth it?” Khenet asked, breaking the silence.

            “Yes,” Sanura answered without hesitation.

            “And what have you learned?” the old woman asked, eyebrows raised.

            “I am more than I appear.”

            Khenet waited.

            “My second-sight did not come from a shard. It was a gift from the Elohim to allow me to wield the Nameless Sword.”

            Still the old woman said nothing.

            “I am the Destroyer of the Universe, come again,” Sanura announced solemnly.

            Khenet nodded slowly.

            “You’re taking this rather well,” the soldier said tartly.

            “It explains a bit. The old dragonslayers didn’t use that sword like you do, I can tell you that. How did you decide to go after the weapon, anyway?”

            “Somebody suggested it to Arva.”

            “Somebody? I bet it was somebody,” Khenet cackled. “Bet that old graffiti artist would glitch if he knew he suggested giving that sword to you.”

            “What?”

            “Never mind. So, Destroyer, what are you going to do now that you’ve returned.”

            “I’m rescuing Celeres.”

            “Beyond that.”

            Sanura sighed. “I don’t know.”

            “The Firstborn aren’t going to leave you alone. A lot of them want revenge for your failure at the end of the first universe.”

            “I didn’t fail. I was betrayed,” she said dully.

            “Same thing in their eyes.”

            The soldier’s eyes flashed dangerously.

            “Hmm,” Khenet said meditatively. “Well, I suppose you could trying lying low. Of course, our current venture isn’t ideal for that.”

            “This is more important. I’ll deal with the consequences, later.”

            “Yes,” the old woman said simply.

            “Do you think Arva and Tyla will find anything?” Sanura asked to change the topic.

            “Not much in this muck. Maybe a few signs by the ziggurat. Nothing dangerous though. Even Zonneshin doesn’t bother with these ruins in weather like this.”

            Sanura grunted in exasperation. “How could you know that? I thought you said you’ve never been this far north.”

            “Is that what I said?” Khenet asked, grinning mischievously.

            “Shouldn’t you be burning dinner instead of bothering me?” the soldier retorted.

            Laughing, the old woman returned to the campfire.

            The others returned to report finding the remains of a muddied campsite at the base of the ziggurat. The weather made it difficult to tell how old it was, but they knew if the Prince’s company had lingered here for a few more days, the travelers would have found them. They briefly discussed using Arva’s proxies to hurry the chase along, but the Cheldean worried that the effort would alert the Prince’s mage to their exact position and leave Arva incapable of helping to free Celeres. Concerns of facing the Prince, his mage, and the twenty-some gold masks in a frontal assault without their full resources convinced Tyla and Khenet. Sanura argued a bit longer before acquiescing to her friend’s objections.

            Evening settled on them, driving them to their bedrolls. Tyla took the first watch and woke Sanura at midnight. The Ai had banked the fire, but Sanura had long since adjusted to penetrating the dark with her second-sight.

            The city appeared almost dead when viewed in its not-colors. The soldier had gotten used to watching the deadly dance of survival that flourished among the animals every night. Here among the ruins, nothing larger than an insect hunted for its nightly meal. Boredom quickly settled down on Sanura. She welcomed the feeling like the old friend that it was, hugging it close to her alertness.

            She was facing the wrong way to spot the shift in the true names when it started. The unbroken walls at the back of the temple seemed impenetrable or at least sturdy enough that anything coming through it would make enough racket to wake Tirannenmoordenaar. None of the travelers had even considered that something might escape through the stone without disturbing a single atom. From deep within the heart of the building, tendrils of not-green magic emerged through the wall.

            Still hampered by her association of sensing the not-colors with sight, Sanura remained unaware of the tendrils until they reached her peripheral vision. Reacting quickly to the intrusion, Sanura tumbled forward, then swung around with her blade neatly sheering off the tips of the creeping not-green. The cords hesitated in mid-air, shot forth new tips to replace what they had lost, and floated patiently without advancing further.

            The soldier toed the sleeping shape of Arva, but the Cheldean continued to snore undisturbed. She kicked him harder, but he still did not wake.

            :They will sleep,: a distant voice whispered in her head.

            Sanura checked her companions but could find nothing immediately wrong with their not-colors.

            “Wake them,” she said.

            :No. I wished to speak with you alone,: the soft voice said.

            The soldier stalked across to the antelope, intent on loading her companions on them and leaving, but the animals were as soundly asleep as the others in the camp.

            :Please, you should be glad you stumbled onto me first. Destruction goes against my nature, even when faced with someone like you. I could just as easily have alerted the Secondborn to you whereabouts as approached you myself.:

            A fleeting memory of gray limbs lashing past her parries while the universe dissolved passed through her mind.

            “What are you?” she demanded.

            :Hehet.:

            “No. The Elohim avoid entering the universe. They don’t want to be more trapped than they are.”

            :True enough, although I fail to see why you would conclude from that we would be incapable of find a safe way to access the realm where our first children are trapped.:

            Sanura scowled.

            :At this distance, this method of communication is quite tiring. Please, take up my lines.:

            The not-green tendrils wiggled invitingly.

            Clutching the hilt of her blade in her right hand, she swept up the tendrils in her left. The extensions pulled her forward as if she was weightless. The soldier felt strangely disconnected, as mortal matters such as gravity and air pressure released their grip on her being. Under that condition, the panic she felt as the cords pulled her toward the unbroken stone wall came too late for her to try and disengage.

            Her mind shattered as she hit the stone, dissolving in a wave of adrenaline that sent her heart racing. To save her sanity, Sanura blacked out entirely, only to recover a few seconds later. She gritted her teeth and jammed closed her eyes, although there was no longer anything to be seen. Resolutely, she tried to slow her ragged breathing and will away the rubbery feeling that had settled in her limbs.

            :Are you all right?: the voice in her head asked in alarm.

            Sanura reached out with her second-sight to examine her surroundings. She had not been taken far. Dimly, she made out the true names of her companions still asleep in the courtyard beyond the solid stone building. She shuddered at the sight of the bricks intersecting with her own true-names before resolutely ignoring them and searching for the source of the voice.

            She did not have to look far. It sat at her feet, nestled safely in the middle of the rectangular stone hill, untouchable except by the demolition of the building or by ghosting through the bricks as she had. Like Tauret’s cube, it was regular in shape. In this case, it was a triangular pyramid. Unlike the cube, which radiated a white light, the Pyramid had a mottled surface of solid colors that hid whatever was in its core.

            “I’m fine,” Sanura answered after orienting herself.

            :You’ve changed a bit from what you were,: Hehet observed.

            “Time does that.”

            :Yes,: he said sadly.

            “So, what do you want with me, Elohim?” the soldier demanded when he failed to follow up his agreement with anything.

            The voice in her head laughed hollowly. :Strangely enough, to see just how much you have changed, Destroyer. I am not Tauret, indifferent to changes, or Niut, who delights in them. Still, I perversely hope that you have changed enough that I can allow your continued existence despite your crimes. Would you repeat yourself, Destroyer? Would you obliterate this universe as you did the first?:

            “No,” Sanura said.

            :I watched you closely before you fulfilled your function. I mobilized the Secondborn against you, but by the end, you left yourself as the only object within the universe to be studied. I know your true nature, and I can see it within you now. You delight in destruction, joyously unweaving the fabric around you with masterful skill. Why shouldn’t I kill you?:

            The thrill of battle washed through her. Every twist of the hilt and slash of the blade from the past few months danced through her mind. Einian loomed before her, dying as the Nameless Sword consumed the Elder’s true names. The minhoca’s rubbery flesh squeezed her ribs while she flailed at it with Celeres’ knife. A petty murderer struggled in the grip of her fellow city guards, kicking one of them in the shins and catching Sanura with a wild elbow to the chin. The nose of Cly, the neighborhood bully, deformed under her fist as a prepubescent Sanura delivered a long delayed lesson. Standing before the second creation, the Destroyer exalted as the disk slipped into the light, wrecking the plans of those that betrayed him. After knocking away the Secondborn, the Destroyer twisted and plunged the sword into the knot, blasting away a large black disk and setting the very fabric of the universe into a cascading collapse. Back and back it went, a long litany of sins accumulated over two lifetimes.

            “No!” Sanura declared, tearing her mind free of Hehet’s influence.

            The presence of the stone around her, which had faded from her mind by the wash of images, rushed back, starting a panic attack to match the one begun by her entering Hehet’s solid stone building. A fresh realization cut the panic short.

            Now, Sanura controlled her memories and directed them toward Hehet. The terror of Einian’s prison hammered through her. The tight tunnels of the escape from Tagerden pressed down on her, and the shaking underground past Whisper Point threatened to bury the travelers. The man crawled into his coffin-room, enamored with its closeness instead of terrified. A young David’s fort made of cushions and blankets kept him close to his toys and books, safe from the outside world.

            “I’m not what I was,” Sanura growled, flinging forward a few more images of enclosed places and emotions to make her point.

            :No, you aren’t, but a change in what comforts and what terrifies hardly assures me you will not destroy this universe as you did the first.:

            The bitterness of the man as he realized the betrayal of the Firstborn bubbled up to the top of her thoughts. From right below it came the reason for the bitterness: the loss of Aete Featherfeed, Firudo the dog, and purple Gomi. She thought of her husband Celeres, and how much more he meant to her than any of those others she had already lost forever.

            “I will not lose him,” the woman said, dropping the words with the weight of boulders.

            The colors of Hehet’s pyramid shifted toward black before springing back to their original color.

            :I judge this to be true and enough to preserve this universe,: Hehet whispered in her mind.

            Sanura closed her second-sight and sighed in acknowledgment.

            :I should warn you that if he is that important to you, you do not have much time left to rescue him. His company have almost caught up to the Isole and its thief, Vogel. They may have the strength to subdue the Firstborn, but it will be risky for your beloved despite his own changes. If Zonneshin’s agents succeed in taking the Isole, matters will favor him even less.:

            A fresh squirt of adrenaline shot through the soldier. “The Secondborn-” she started.

            :Will not listen to me on this particular matter. They judge Zonneshin’s plan more likely to maintain the entrapment of the Firstborn than disrupt it. To get them to move would require revealing your presence, which does not favor your own continued existence.:

            “I have to go now,” Sanura said sharply.

            :The damage you caused is in the past. I am pleased for my sake to conclude destroying you now would serve no good purpose. Go with the blessing of the Elohim, child.:

            Preoccupied, Sanura hardly noticed the sickening feeling of passing through solid stone. She popped free and hit the courtyard running for her bedroll. “Wake up!” she yelled.

            Her companions reacted professionally to the call and the clatter. The night was otherwise dark and calm.

            Seeing no immediate danger and Sanura packing, Tyla asked, “What is going on?”

            “The Prince has almost caught his thief. We have to catch him first,” the soldier said shortly.

            “What prompted this?” Khenet asked, eyebrows raised.

            “I’ll tell you once we’re underway. Now move it.”

            The others exchanged glances, then set about breaking camp without waiting for breakfast or for the sun to rise. The others missed Khenet’s speculative watch of the building as the travelers rode into the night. The first clipped words of Sanura’s explanation merely confirmed what the old woman had already guessed. Hidden by the dark, she gave the soldier a feral grin.