Imajica. Clive Barker

My people lived in that Dominion then, and watched over that place, but the Unbeheld drove both the spirits and my people out.’

      ‘So the spirits have nowhere to go?’

      ‘Exactly. Their numbers swell, and so does their grief.’

      He thought of Taylor, lying on his deathbed, dreaming of release, of the final flight into the Absolute. Instead, if Pie was to be believed, his spirit had entered a place of lost souls, denied both flesh and revelation. What price understanding now, when the end of everything was limbo?

      ‘Who is this Unbeheld?’ Gentle said.

      ‘Hapexamendios, the God of the Imajica.’

      ‘Is he a God of this world too?’

      ‘He was once. But he went out of the Fifth Dominion, through the other worlds, laying their divinities waste, until he reached the Place of Spirits. Then he drew a veil across that Dominion -’

      ‘And became Unbeheld.’

      ‘That’s what I was taught.’

      The formality and plainness of Pie’oh’pah’s account lent the story authority, but for all its elegance it was still a tale of Gods and other worlds, very far from this dark room, and the cold rain running on the glass.

      ‘How do I know any of this is true?’ Gentle said.

      ‘You don’t, unless you see it with your own eyes,’ Pie’oh’pah replied. His voice when he said this was almost sultry. He spoke like a seducer.

      ‘And how do I do that?’

      ‘You must ask me direct questions, and I’ll try to answer them. I can’t reply to generalities.’

      ‘All right, answer this: Can you take me to the Dominions?’

      ‘That I can do.’

      ‘I want to follow in the footsteps of Hapexamendios. Can we do that?’

      ‘We can try.’

      ‘I want to see the Unbeheld, Pie’oh’pah. I want to know why Taylor and your children are in Purgatory. I want to understand why they’re suffering.’

      There was no question in this speech, therefore no reply except the other’s quickening breath.

      ‘Can you take us now?’ Gentle said.

      ‘If that’s what you want.’

      ‘It’s what I want, Pie. Prove what you’ve said is true, or leave me alone forever.’

      It was eighteen minutes to midnight when Jude got into her car to start her journey to Gentle’s house. It was an easy drive, with the roads so clear, and she was several times tempted to jump red lights, but the police were especially vigilant on this night, and any infringement might bring them out of hiding. Though she had no alcohol in her system she was by no means sure it was innocent of alien influences. She therefore drove as cautiously as at noon, and it took fully fifteen minutes to reach the studio. When she did she found the upper windows dark. Had Gentle decided to drown his sorrows in a night of high life, she wondered, or was he already fast asleep? If the latter, she had news worth waking him for.

      ‘There’s some things you should understand before we leave,’ Pie said as it tied its own left wrist to Gentle’s right, using its belt to do so. ‘This is no easy journey, Gentle. This Dominion, the Fifth, is unreconciled, which means that getting to the Fourth involves risk. It’s not like crossing a bridge. Passing over requires considerable power. And if anything goes wrong, the consequences will be dire.’

      ‘Tell me the worst.’

      ‘In between the Reconciled Dominions and the Fifth is a state called the In Ovo. It’s an ether, in which things that have ventured from their worlds are imprisoned. Some of them are innocent. They’re there by accident. Some were dispatched there as a judgement. They’re lethal. I’m hoping we’ll pass through the In Ovo before any of them even notice we were there. But if we were to become separated-’

      ‘I get the picture. You’d better tighten that knot then. It could still work loose.’

      Pie applied himself to the task, with Gentle fumbling to help in the darkness.

      ‘Let’s assume we get through the In Ovo,’ Gentle said. ‘What’s on the other side?’

      The Fourth Dominion,’ Pie replied. ‘If I’m accurate in my bearings, we’ll arrive near the city of Patashoqua.’

      ‘And if not?’

      ‘Who knows? The sea. A swamp.’ ‘Shit.’

      ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a good sense of direction. And there’s plenty of power between us. I couldn’t do this on my own. But together …’

      ‘Is this the only way to cross over?’

      ‘Not at all. There are a number of passing places here in the Fifth: stone circles, hidden away. But most of them were created to carry travellers to some particular location. We want to go as free agents. Unseen, unsuspected.’

      ‘So why have you chosen Patashoqua?’

      ‘It has … sentimental associations,’ Pie replied. ‘You’ll see for yourself, very soon.’ It paused. ‘You do still want to go?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘This is as tight as I can get the knot without stopping our blood.’

      ‘Then why are we delaying?’

      Pie’s fingers touched Gentle’s face. ‘Close your eyes,’ it said.

      Gentle did so. Pie’s fingers sought out Gentle’s free hand and raised it between them.

      ‘You have to help me,’ he said.

      ‘Tell me what to do.’

      ‘Make a fist. Lightly. Leave enough room for a breath to pass through. Good. Good. All magic proceeds from breath. Remember that.’

      He did, from somewhere.

      ‘Now,’ Pie went on, ‘put your hand to your face, with your thumb against your chin. There are very few incantations in our workings. No pretty words. Just pneuma like this, and the will behind them.’

      ‘I’ve got the will, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Gentle said.

      Then one solid breath is all we need. Exhale until it hurts. I’ll do the rest.’

      ‘Can I take another breath afterwards?’

      ‘Not in this Dominion.’

      With that reply the enormity of what they were undertaking struck Gentle. They were leaving earth. Stepping off the edge of the only reality he’d ever known into another state entirely. He grinned in the darkness, the hand bound to Pie’s taking hold of his deliverer’s fingers.

      ‘Shall we?’ he said.

      In the murk ahead of him Pie’s teeth gleamed as it matched Gentle’s smile.

      ‘Why not?’

      Gentle drew breath. Somewhere in the house, he heard a door slamming and footsteps on the stairs leading up to the studio. But it was too late for interruptions. He exhaled through his hand, one solid breath which Pie’oh’pah seemed to snatch from the air between them. Something ignited in the fist the mystif made, bright enough to burn between his clenched fingers …

      At the door, Jude saw Gentle’s painting almost made flesh. Two figures, almost nose to nose, with their faces illuminated by some unnatural source, swelling like a slow explosion between them. She had time to recognize them both - to see the smiles on their faces as they met each other’s gaze - then, to her horror, they seemed to turn inside out. She glimpsed wet red surfaces, which folded upon themselves not once but three times in quick succession, each fold diminishing their