Page 3531

Hector almost resented that. But the reaper probably had a point. “I think... the way it works is... I need to see something in order to search for it in my memories. Specifically, I mean. I’ve tried to search based on just ideas before, but the results I got back were always kinda... shitty and vague. Almost like the Candle itself was trying to figure out what I want. And not quite succeeding.”

‘So you’re saying the Candle is stupid.’

“I did not say that. Not at all.”

‘That’s what I heard.’

“I’m saying that words like ‘Rathmore’s Materials’ or whatever are not helpful. Maybe if I knew what they looked like, then I could find something relevant, but...”

‘Well, the Gate’s right here. Put those photoreceptors to use and get a good look. That’s basically why we came all this way, isn’t it?’

“I have been looking,” said Hector, extending out his iron platform so that he could eye the Gate up and down again. “I’m just trying to...”

‘No rush,’ said Garovel. ‘Take your time and think. You’ve got a lot in there, right? Soak in the view and think back. Hell, meditate if you have to.’

Hmm. Hector did as the reaper said, circling around the Gate to get a series of good looks in from all different angles, including from above and below. Maybe he couldn’t search for someone mentioning the Gate, but perhaps it would show up in the background of a memory. If he could just learn to recognize its shape...

‘Okay, but don’t actually take that long. I’m getting bored over here.’

“You were being so helpful for a minute there...”

He concentrated. And yet also didn’t. He wanted to find just the right headspace to occupy for this. He wanted to be loose and free. Moving through memories quickly and easily. Not lingering. Not getting bogged down in details. But he also wanted to have enough awareness so that he could actually detect the Gate if it appeared.

It was a balancing act, of sorts. A long and strange trek, speeding by countless memories like a passenger looking out the window of a train.

There was a temptation to simply... keep going. Because, also like a train, there was a certain rhythm to this. A certain... comfort. Passively observing the world. Observing history. Hmm.

Stop.

There.

He had to rewind a bit. Had to journey backwards. Not sure that he’d seen what he thought. Had to take his time, too. Look over each scene a bit more thoroughly.

But he found it.

Rathmore’s Gate.