Chapter 29

We floated next to one of the pyramids of Pathia while Eade and I sat in the shade of a thousand goat-intestine balloons and she offered unsolicited opinions.

“It seems obvious,” Eade explained in a tone that made it clear that while it was obvious to her, she had no doubt the rest of us were completely clueless. Which made my brain clench, because she was right.

“You seem quite confident about that,” I said.

“Completely confident,” Eade replied.

“So explain it to me, then. Right now.”

Eade actually looked up from her phone. “You wouldn’t under­stand.”

“Try me.” The Pylian Juncture I got in to that phrase would have elicited an audible gasp from Bowmont the appliance sales­man.

Eade sat up and put her phone away. “Well, it’s the connection of things. The sum-total of the Universe. It means we’re all just fumbling around in the dark. Nothing matters. This conversation. Your romantic obsession with Vole. Our mad escapade through the Pathian desert. Nothing has any purpose.”

“Wait… My romantic obsession with Drakeforth?” A thought dawned with the full spectrum of sunlight and harmonised chorus of birdsong never seen outside of a sensie soundtrack. “You’re jealous?” I blinked and said it again. “You are jealous. You are burning up because you think that Drakeforth and I are romantically involved?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Eade sneered, without conviction.

“Egg yeah it’s ridiculous.”

“Totally,” Eade gave a firm nod. “Doesn’t mean you’re not romantically entwined, though.”

“We are not romantically involved!”

“How would you know?” Eade asked.

“What kind of question is that?”

“The kind that I’m asking because you can’t answer it.”

“You do know I have a degree in dialectics, right?”

Eade nodded.

“Therefore answering difficult questions is what I do.”

“Is that your final answer?” Eade elevated one eyebrow.

“What? No. I already said Drakeforth and I are not romant­ically inclined.”

Eade leaned forward, her elbows hugging her knees, “Why not?”

“It’s obvious. Isn’t it? I mean, of course it’s obvious. Isn’t it?”

“You tell me.” Eade seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.

“I am telling you. Repeatedly. There is literally nothing going on.”

“Okay,” Eade straightened.

“Okay,” I agreed. We sat in silence for a minute. “There’s just one thing.”

“Oh?” Eade’s other eyebrow climbed up her forehead.

“You don’t believe me.”

Her face exhaled and relaxed. “Of course I don’t believe you.”

“Well, as long as we are clear on that.”

“Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?” Eade asked.

“Why did the murrai bring us here?” I repeated the question that she clearly hoped I had forgotten.

“It seems obvious,” Eade started again. We were interrupted by the sound of Drakeforth’s hand slapping on the rail of Goat’s airship. The retired god of Arthurianism came into view as he pulled himself back on board.

“We found the entrance,” he said once he stood on the deck.

“Great,” Eade said, and rose to her feet.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it was there,” Drakeforth replied. “Come on, I’ll show you.”