Page 63 of Katabasis
But Nicomachus and Magnolia had been living within increasingly complex webs of fantasy. It was inevitable—they had finally lost their grip on reality, had actually fooled themselves into thinking they had power over life and death. They were not magicians anymore. They were mere charlatans now, lost in their own illusions.
So when the Kripkes died, the academic community greeted their disappearance with little ceremony. No one issued a retrospective of their work; no one edited a Festschrift; no one named any endowed chairs after them. The Kripkes’ two graduate students dropped out of their respective programs. One found work as a visual effects designer in Hollywood, and the other was living in a commune outside Palo Alto the last anyone heard.
Alice knew of the Kripkes, for she had fanatically researched everyone and everything tangentially related to underworld sojourns. She’d found a torn and bloodstained copy of their Royal Albert Hall pamphlet, crumpled carelessly at the bottom of a records box. She’d found what few research notes by Nicomachus and Magnolia were accessible to the public—the rest were lost when the Kripke family home was sold off. But small wonder Peter didn’t recognize their names. After all, there wasn’t much point studying someone who went to Hell and failed to come back.
“They’ve been roving the eight courtsever since.” Elspeth was doing something complicated with the ropes and sail. They were quite far from shore now, and theNeurathglided smoothly over deeper, calmer waters. “In the beginning, they still looked human. When they still cared about what they used to be. They’ve adapted since, taken on more and more of... the attributes of deities, we might say. I started seeing those little rovers a few years ago.” She made a face. “Nasty little things. They’ve produced a veritable army since.”
“Whatarethey?” asked Peter. “I mean, what kind of magick—”
“I wish I knew. I’ve got two theories about it. The first is that they’ve found Shades and bound them to living matter—which is terrifying, because if they can do that then they’re well on their way to doing anything. That’s why I think it’s unlikely.”
“And what’s your other theory?”
“That they’ve split off parts of themselves into the bones. That the constructs are satellites of their own minds.”
Peter blanched. “But that—I mean, that’s incredibly sophisticated magick.”
“Well, the Kripkes have had a lot of time. They always were underestimated as proper magicians, I think. The stuff they’ve come up with down here would revolutionize the field above, if only they ever got out to publish.”
“What about that large construct?” Alice asked. “The one on two legs.”
“They’ve still got that thing with them?”
“It moves differently than the others,” said Alice. “It’s... more deliberate, like it has a will of its own. Have they been innovating?”
“No.” Elspeth’s face tightened. “No, that’s their son.”
Alice and Peter spoke at once. “What?”
“Theophrastus,” said Elspeth. “Cute kid. I saw him at a conference hotel once. He was playing with these plastic dinosaurs. Kept banging them together and shouting they needed to reproduce to save their species.”
Alice’s chest felt tight. “They didn’t...”
“They decided they didn’t want to leave him behind,” said Elspeth. “So they brought him along. Gave him some juice laced with arsenic before the show, and collected his dead little soul shortly after they journeyed down themselves.”
“That’s horrible,” said Peter. “They—I can’t believe theymurdered—”
“Not murdered. Not from their perspective,” said Elspeth. “You have to understand: they think they’re still finding a way out of this mess. So the way they see it, all they did was bring him along for the trip. No different from joining Mum and Dad for a weekend conference in Birmingham.”
“So they’re still trying to see things through?” Peter asked.
“The Great Quest.” Elspeth nodded. “They’ve been stuck on it for years. They’ve traveled all over the eight courts by now. Found some parts that even I haven’t explored, I’m sure. And they’ve been amassing their—research assistants, let’s call them. Used to be just one or two rovers I’d see loping around. Now there’s dozens patrolling every court. Until now, I’ve never seen so many assembled in one place. They must be really excited about you.”
“What are they looking for?” asked Alice.
“Anything that could be of use,” said Elspeth. “All sorts of things find their ways down to Hell, you see. Not always on purpose. Usually it’s objects. Childhood toys. Old furniture. Things buried in coffins or discarded at places of death. Bones, lots of bones.” Elspeth gestured at herself and Alice noticed, upon closer examination, that her armor was not of fine steel, but an intricate sheet of bones and metal rubbish stitched together. At her waist dangled what Alice hoped was a rabbit skull. Around her neck hung a metal chain that might have once been used to flush a toilet. She looked like she’d dressed for a rock concert wearing only found items from the sewer.
“Sometimes it’s animals. Rats, mostly. Your occasional dog. They don’t mess with cats—nobody messes with cats.” Elspeth scratched Archimedes behind the ears. “No, we don’t—you good boy. Sometimes people come before their time. That doesn’t happen often. They have to be very lost, or very close to death. It’s dreadful to watch happen. They don’t ever find their way back up. They pass, and then their soul...” Elspeth fidgeted with her chain. “I saw a child once. Such a skinny thing. Unloved. Didn’t care where he was, to be honest. No one ends up in Hell if they have anywhere else to go. I tried to send him back up. The Kripkes got to him first.”
“And what did they do?” asked Peter.
Elspeth blinked hard at him. “What do you think?”
Alice stared back out over the shore, the deceptively empty sands. How lucky they’d been. How foolish.
“They are not human anymore,” said Elspeth. “They have no sense of compassion or justice. There is no reasoning with them. They have lost all perspective on life and death. There is only knowledge, resources, and the Great Quest.”
“Jeez.” Peter hugged his chest. “We might as well just reincarnate, then. Get it over with.”
