the joy." It was so simple after all.
"I told you before that I'm nothing. Like you, I have a gift. I come to make men into gods."
The claim was outrageous, but Morning Star heard it without surprise. She had recited the words of the Catechism often enough in her time in the Nom.
Why did the All and Only bring us into being?
To become gods.
"This will happen," said the Joy Boy, "when we overcome the separation that keeps us apart. We will become god."
"What am I to do?"
"Reach out to those who are the farthest away from joy. Use your gift to make them feel what they fear to feel. Bring them to join us."
"Am I to travel to other lands?"
"Not to other lands. To other minds. To those who have kept themselves so far apart that they have lost sight of others and become trapped in themselves."
"Who are they?"
"The Noble Warriors."
Morning Star shivered as she heard the words. It was a shiver of recognition. So her time in the Nom had been for a purpose after all.
"You are a bridge, Morning Star. Lay yourself down across the chasm that separates us, and let your brothers and sisters cross to joy."
"How am I to find them? The Noble Warriors are dispersed."
"There is one with greater power than the rest."
"Seeker!"
"Find him. The others will follow."
"Find Seeker!"
All her memories of her friend came flooding back. Of course she must find Seeker. There was nothing she wanted more. The Joy Boy knew her heart of hearts. He assigned her the task that was most special to her in every way.
"I know him well," she said.
"Bring him to us. Let him share the joy."
"Yes, Beloved," said Morning Star.
10 The Old Man in the Mirror
S EEKER CROUCHED LOW AND CLOSED HIS EYES. T HE giddiness had returned. He shivered and felt the sweat on his face. Then once again came the rising surge at the base of his throat and he thought he was about to be sick. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to vomit up the poison in him. But nothing came.
"Stay, then," he said. "You can't hurt me."
He rose to his feet once more and looked round him. The sea of grass extended on all sides as far as he could see. No roads, no tracks—not even the track he had made in coming here. The grasses had erased all signs of his passing.
"Very well, then," he said to himself. "Since I don't know which way to go, I'll go nowhere."
He closed his eyes and set off walking blind. He pushed his way through the long grass, not caring where he went, hunter turned wanderer.
Meet your plan like a stranger, so they taught in the Nom.
At first he moved hesitantly, fearing that he might stumble and lose his footing. But finding the ground remained firm beneath his feet, he gained confidence and strode along at a brisk pace. By shutting his eyes and therefore refusing to seek a single destination, he made all destinations available to him. He might end up anywhere in the world. If he could only keep his eyes shut long enough, he was bound at the very least to go somewhere new.
After some time, he felt that the grass was changing round him. He heard the croaking call of rooks. Where there were rooks there were trees. He stopped and opened his eyes. He saw the trees not so far ahead of him, and between the trees a building. It was not the house with the blue door; this was something far grander. The waving grasses now ceased altogether, and he found himself walking over what had once been lawn and was now an expanse of sun-parched weeds. Before him stood a veritable mansion. Colonnaded single-story wings reached out like embracing arms on either side of a two-story central block. He was approaching what must be the back of the mansion, a wide stone terrace onto which opened a line of five tall windows. In one of these windows, standing gazing out towards him, was an old man, thin and stooping, holding a long slender stick.
Seeker hurried forward, his hopes rising. The old man, he was sure, was waiting for him. He found the steps that gave access to the terrace. He saw
"I told you before that I'm nothing. Like you, I have a gift. I come to make men into gods."
The claim was outrageous, but Morning Star heard it without surprise. She had recited the words of the Catechism often enough in her time in the Nom.
Why did the All and Only bring us into being?
To become gods.
"This will happen," said the Joy Boy, "when we overcome the separation that keeps us apart. We will become god."
"What am I to do?"
"Reach out to those who are the farthest away from joy. Use your gift to make them feel what they fear to feel. Bring them to join us."
"Am I to travel to other lands?"
"Not to other lands. To other minds. To those who have kept themselves so far apart that they have lost sight of others and become trapped in themselves."
"Who are they?"
"The Noble Warriors."
Morning Star shivered as she heard the words. It was a shiver of recognition. So her time in the Nom had been for a purpose after all.
"You are a bridge, Morning Star. Lay yourself down across the chasm that separates us, and let your brothers and sisters cross to joy."
"How am I to find them? The Noble Warriors are dispersed."
"There is one with greater power than the rest."
"Seeker!"
"Find him. The others will follow."
"Find Seeker!"
All her memories of her friend came flooding back. Of course she must find Seeker. There was nothing she wanted more. The Joy Boy knew her heart of hearts. He assigned her the task that was most special to her in every way.
"I know him well," she said.
"Bring him to us. Let him share the joy."
"Yes, Beloved," said Morning Star.
10 The Old Man in the Mirror
S EEKER CROUCHED LOW AND CLOSED HIS EYES. T HE giddiness had returned. He shivered and felt the sweat on his face. Then once again came the rising surge at the base of his throat and he thought he was about to be sick. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to vomit up the poison in him. But nothing came.
"Stay, then," he said. "You can't hurt me."
He rose to his feet once more and looked round him. The sea of grass extended on all sides as far as he could see. No roads, no tracks—not even the track he had made in coming here. The grasses had erased all signs of his passing.
"Very well, then," he said to himself. "Since I don't know which way to go, I'll go nowhere."
He closed his eyes and set off walking blind. He pushed his way through the long grass, not caring where he went, hunter turned wanderer.
Meet your plan like a stranger, so they taught in the Nom.
At first he moved hesitantly, fearing that he might stumble and lose his footing. But finding the ground remained firm beneath his feet, he gained confidence and strode along at a brisk pace. By shutting his eyes and therefore refusing to seek a single destination, he made all destinations available to him. He might end up anywhere in the world. If he could only keep his eyes shut long enough, he was bound at the very least to go somewhere new.
After some time, he felt that the grass was changing round him. He heard the croaking call of rooks. Where there were rooks there were trees. He stopped and opened his eyes. He saw the trees not so far ahead of him, and between the trees a building. It was not the house with the blue door; this was something far grander. The waving grasses now ceased altogether, and he found himself walking over what had once been lawn and was now an expanse of sun-parched weeds. Before him stood a veritable mansion. Colonnaded single-story wings reached out like embracing arms on either side of a two-story central block. He was approaching what must be the back of the mansion, a wide stone terrace onto which opened a line of five tall windows. In one of these windows, standing gazing out towards him, was an old man, thin and stooping, holding a long slender stick.
Seeker hurried forward, his hopes rising. The old man, he was sure, was waiting for him. He found the steps that gave access to the terrace. He saw
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