“But our star, Sol, wanted to ascend,” said Edmund. “Why couldn’t he?”
“Because other stars would have also needed to do so,” said Samaranth, “and Rao is oldest among them, so his decision binds them all. It takes the complete commitment of one’s heart, and aiua, to ascend,” he continued, looking now at Rose. “You know this. I can see it in your countenance.”
“Then this world may truly be lost,” Rose said despairingly. “If the stars will not ascend, what is left? What can be done?”
“Just because Rao has abandoned the care of this world does not mean the world is without its . . . Caretakers,” Samaranth said. For the first time, his voice seemed to be breaking with an emotion that none of the angels in the city had displayed. “There are none here in the city willing to ascend—but the elder angels can still descend to the office necessary to look after this world. We can still choose,” he finished, his words more of a struggle now, “to become Dragons.”
Part Four
The Deluge
The beasts were tended to by smaller creatures . . .
Chapter THIRTEEN
Reunion
It was a caravan of worlds, and it stretched across the dunes from one horizon to the other. The great creatures that carried the lands of the Archipelago and all the peoples who lived in them were perhaps distant cousins to the Feast Beasts that served meals at Tamerlane House, reimagined for a more massive duty. They resembled the offspring of camels that had been successfully courted by horned toads the size of elephants, and in place of humps were immense glass spheres, each of which contained the past, present, and future of a land from the Archipelago of Dreams.
The beasts were tended to by smaller creatures of the earth, who had been given the task by the leader of the caravan: the last true Caretaker of the Archipelago itself. When the Archipelago fell to Shadow, it was he who gathered up all the lands and peoples and transported them here, where they could make their way to safe haven until the world could be made right again. “Have they been given water?” he asked. “The heat is terrible today.”
“Henry is takin’ care o’ that,” said his First Assistant Dragon, a badger called Tummeler. “I’ve made him, ah, my assistant, if’n that’s keen by you.”
Samaranth looked at the badger in surprise. “The guinea pig? Hrrrmm,” he rumbled. “Is it really wise to entrust such a large task to such a small creature?”
“You of all, uh, people ought t’ know,” Tummeler said, admonishing, “that size is irrelevant. ’Ceptin’ when it comes to stuff like actually hauling stuff, like entire islands from th’ Archipelago. Then it pays t’ be big—but we got creatures t’ do that, so Henry is just perfect t’ leave in charge as a supervisor. My point being—”
“I understand, little friend,” said the great Dragon. “Better than you realize.”
He looked back at the caravan and thought about the thousands and thousands of lives, and the history, and the culture, and most importantly, the stories that had been preserved by his actions. He looked at the badger, who had been a hero in the old Archipelago, and one of those a Dragon might actually call friend. And he remembered those who had been left behind.
“I wish . . .” Tummeler began, sensing the old Dragon’s thoughts. He stopped, whiskers quivering, and looked up at Samaranth. “I wish we had been able t’ bring Miss Aven with us,” he said sadly. “I wish she didn’t have t’ stay behind, all alone.”
“She wasn’t alone,” Samaranth replied, “but more importantly, she knew it was necessary. Someone needed to tell the Caretakers what had happened, so that events could proceed the way that they must.”
“And have they?” Tummeler asked, looking back along the caravan of beasts. “We have been out here, wandering around with th’ whole of the Archipelago on our backs, for . . .” He paused and did some figures in his head. “I really don’t know. How long have we been out here, anyway? It feels like we been wandering for forty years.”
Samaranth chuckled, but it sounded like the rasping of a rusty engine. “That was an entirely different exile story, little Child of the Earth,” he said. “We are no longer in any place that follows Chronos time, so it is all relative. But if I were to hazard a guess, I would say . . .
“. . . that we have been gone from the waters of the Archipelago of Dreams for less than a month. Maybe two.”
“Really?” Tummeler said, eyes wide. “If’n you’d asked me, I’da said we been taking care of th’ Archipelago forever.”