by J B Drake
“Mardaley—” Baern began.
“You’re upset,” Mardaley interjected. “I understand, and I can’t fault you for feeling like you do. But I stand by my decision. Had I known then what I know now, things would be different, for sure of it. But I knew as much as you did back then, and I couldn’t abandon the boy, not when there seemed a chance to free him from her.”
Baern stared at Mardaley in silence for a spell, and while a part of him screamed and raged at his friend’s folly, he knew, had the roles been reversed, chances were he would’ve made the same choices.
“Tell me you see a way through this,” he said at last.
Nodding, Mardaley sighed. “I do, but it’s not brilliant.”
“I don’t care, it’s better than nothing.”
“Very well,” Mardaley sighed. “I say we heal him.”
Baern frowned. “What?”
“We heal him, Baern.”
“Heal his mind?”
Mardaley nodded.
“Those things can’t be undone, surely.”
“Not quite, Baern.” Mardaley shook his head. “Granted, I am no expert, but this other Tip couldn’t have been there for very long; Tip is still quite young. I say we heal his mind before the fracture becomes irreversible, meld the two Tips into one, and, if we play this right, unlock his full potential in the process.”
Baern stared at his friend in silence for a spell. “How do you know our Tip is the real Tip?”
“Oh, come now, Baern,” Mardaley chided. “If you suffered a fractured mind, would you conjure a personality as weak as our Tip?”
“But you said it yourself, you’re no expert.”
“That is true, but even so, that’s too much of a leap.”
“Well then, how do you know our Tip will be the one to remain once he is healed?”
“I…” Mardaley began, but words failed him.
“Precisely. And, from what you say, this other Tip may well be a butcher who lives for the slaughter. Do we truly wish to unleash him on all we hold dear?”
“Listen, Baern—” Mardaley began.
“Let’s not tempt fate, Mardaley,” Baern interrupted. “The boy is no threat right now, he—”
“He is no threat because of our friend’s presence.”
“Then let’s leave her there.”
Mardaley stared at his friend, mouth agape. “You cannot mean that.”
“I do,” Baern nodded. “Mardaley, thus far, she’s done nothing to earn our mistrust. If anything, she’s gone to great lengths to protect that boy, and—”
“She was protecting her vessel!” Mardaley seethed. “Nothing more!”
“You say that, but—”
“She cannot be trusted, Baern! She can never be trusted!”
“But—”
“No, Baern! She excels at worming her way into people’s hearts! And when they trust her implicitly and cease guarding themselves against her, she strikes! You must never see her as anything other than a threat!”
“But—”
“No, Baern, listen! If we leave her in Tip and she finds a way to take full command of the power coursing through that boy, she will turn on us, all of us. There is no forgiveness in that heart of hers, no mercy and no pity. She will raze your Tower to the ground and kill everyone in it! Do not doubt that she won’t!”
“How is that any different to this other Tip using that power against us?”
“You compare a young boy wielding ungodly magic to the Kin-Slayer herself? Truly, Baern? This other Tip might slay many of the Tower, but Kin-Slayer will leave none alive!”
Baern stared at his friend in silence for a spell, then sighed. “So how do we proceed?”
“First,” Mardaley replied, “we must keep this to ourselves. If she knows about this, you can be sure she’s already put plans in place to make this other Tip her own, and the last thing we need is to show our hand and have her hasten her plans.”
Baern nodded at this.
“Second, we must find a way to heal him, but ensure our Tip is the one who remains.”
Once more, Baern nodded.
“And then, once we’re sure of this, we part them and heal Tip.”
“Except we’re out of our depth, here,” Baern replied. “Neither of us knows anything about matters of the mind.“
“Neither one of us is an expert in this field, that is true,” Mardaley replied, “but I know a few who are. I’ve already sent word to them. It’ll take a few days for my missives to reach them and for them to answer, but answer they will. They will know what to do.”
“And if they don’t?”
“They will.”
“Mardaley, I—”
Once again, Mardaley placed a hand upon Baern’s shoulder. “I have asked you many times in the past to trust me, and you have. I ask once more. Trust me.”
“These are my people we’re talking about, Mardaley. If this goes wrong, it’s their blood that will be spilt.”
“I will not let that happen, Baern, upon my honour. But you must trust me. Please.”
Baern stared in silence at his friend for a few moments longer, then, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he nodded.
“Thank you, old friend, “ Mardaley smiled. “In the meantime, I intend to ask Marsha about Tip’s past, see what I can glean about what caused the fracture in the first place. If anyone will know, she will.”
Baern shook his head. “Mardaley, those two met in Merethia, how does that help us?”
Mardaley smiled once more. “Tip is a bad liar, Baern. You need to spend more time around him when he lies, you’ll see what I mean.”
Baern frowned. “You think they knew each other before Merethia?”
Mardaley nodded. “For sure of it.”
Smiling, the Magister shook his head.
“Very well,” he said. “Let’s try this your way. It’s not like we have much of a choice.”
Mardaley smiled. “All is not lost, Baern, we’ve been in worse predicaments.”
Baern stared at the smiling storekeeper a spell before shaking his head and sighing.
“Forgive me, Mardaley,” he said, “I should’ve kept faith in you. It was just…”
Mardaley grinned. “Think nothing of it.”
Forcing a smile, the wizened mage nodded.
“I’ll send for you once I’ve spoken to Marsha,” Mardaley added as he rose.
“Very well.”
Nodding, the elderly storekeeper placed a hand upon his friend’s shoulder one last time, then turned to leave.
The Scales Fall
Seething, Anise read through the missive before her a third time, this time with great care. In her hand was her quill, ready to pen a scathing response, her withering remarks already formed and waiting to be given life on parchment. But first, she had to be sure what she thought she’d read was what was indeed written. So intent was she on her reading that she didn’t even look up when a knock came at the door.
“Come,” she ordered as she read.
In response, the door opened and closed, and while Anise was vaguely aware that there was someone in the room with her, everyone knew better than to interrupt her when she was in the middle of a missive. And so, silence filled the room as she read on.
Then at last, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly. What she’d thought she’d read was indeed what had been written.
“Bastards!” she spat before placing her quill upon the desk and finally turning her attention to whoever was with her. She regretted it immediately.
“Oh, Marsha,” she said as she spied a glowering Marshalla.
In response, Marshalla crossed her arms beneath her bosom.
“What’re you doing here?” Anise asked.
“You avoiding me,” Marshalla replied. “Came to find out why.”
Shaking her head, Anise leant back into her brother’s chair, calling forth her best imitation of a confused frown. “What in the world are
you talking about?”
With her gaze darkening, Marshalla walked forth to stand before the desk. “You was supposed to meet me for lunch yesterday.”
Anise shrugged. “I’m busy, Marsha, or can’t you see that? With Daniton looking after Thuridan, it falls to me to see to the running of this place.”
“Right,” Marshalla nodded. “That the same busy that made you not show the other day when you said you’d come see me at the night mares?”
“Marsha, I—”
“Or the same busy that made you leave me waiting at the fountain? You swore you’d be there, Anise, you swore, but you—”
“Marsha.”
“Why you ignoring me? Didn’t do nothing wrong, but you been acting funny since we all got back from the storehouse.”
“Marsha, look, I—”
“You blame me, don’t you? You blame me for what happ—”
“Oh, for goodness, sake, girl, don’t be so dramatic! Of course I don’t—”
“Then what, eh? What?”
Anise moved to speak, but no words came.
Marshalla shook her head at the Archmage. “Thought you was my friend.”
Shaking her head, Anise leant forward. “Marsha, I am not ignoring you, I—”
“Swear,” Marshalla interjected.
“What?” Anise demanded.
“Swear you not ignoring me.”
“Oh, for heavens sake, Marsha, stop being such a child! I have taken on all my brother’s responsibilities alongside mine! I am not ignoring you, alright? I’m just busy!”
“Then, how come you only ever downstairs before or after my time? Every day, Anise, every day. Been watching you.”
Once more, words failed the Archmage as she stared at the elven girl before her.
Dropping her arms to her side, Marshalla stared at the desk and shook her head.
“It hurts, Anise,” she muttered. “Don’t got many friends left in here, just you and Amala. Thought could talk to you about anything.”
Then, she stared at Anise once more. There were tears in her eyes now.
The Archmage stared at Marshalla with a soft gaze and lips agape. “Marsha, I…”
“Could really use a friend right now, you know,” Marshalla said. “Really need someone to talk to. Keep seeing her, and that knife, every night.”
“Who? Netari?”
Marshalla nodded as a single tear ran down her cheek. “Don’t know how to stop it. It’s like she’s there waiting for me to close my eyes. Could really use someone to talk to.”
A coldness filled the room as Anise stared at the girl before her, her own tears not far away.
“You could’ve spoken to Baern,” she said at last.
Marshalla shook her head as she lowered her gaze once more. “Baern don’t listen, he just tries to fix things. Don’t need someone to fix things, just need someone to talk to.”
“I…” Anise began, but she knew not what to say.
Shrugging, Marshalla continued. “Tried talking to Amala. It helped some, but couldn’t tell her much, she wasn’t there. But you was, and you killed before too, so you know how it feels.”
“Marsha, listen—” Anise began as she reached out for Marshalla’s hand.
“Thought you was my friend,” Marshalla interrupted as she pulled her hand away.
“I am, but—”
“Then, why you ignoring me? Why you letting me suffer like this?”
“Gods, child, stop talking like that! Please!”
At Anise’s words, Marshalla stared at the desk once more. Then her tears broke free.
With a hand outstretched, Anise stared at the young girl in silence. Marshalla was right, of course, she had been ignoring the girl, but she had good reason to, a reason she dared not share. Except, as Anise stared at the tears in Marshalla’s eyes, the pain in her heart grew till it became unbearable. Noble though her reason was, keeping silent was tearing the young girl apart. Marshalla deserved to hear it. Come what may, no matter the price, she deserved to know.
“Oh, no you don’t,” her inner voice warned. “You open your mouth on this and she’ll hate you for eternity.”
But if she could convince Marshalla of the purity of her purpose, perhaps it needn’t end that way.
“You’re playing with fire, Anise, and you will burn. She will never see things your way. Ever.”
But the girl before her was close to falling apart. The taking of a life was a heavy enough burden to bear, but to be borne by one so young… She couldn’t stay quiet, she had to say something.
“Say something else.”
No, anything else would be hollow and meaningless. If she said anything, it had to be this.
“You’re playing with fire, woman.”
Marshalla would understand, she’d have to. And besides, in Marshalla’s own words, she was a dear friend. Perhaps that would be enough.
“Gods, please let it be enough,” Anise whispered as she stared at the silently weeping girl before her. Taking a deep breath, the Archmage sat up, closed her eyes and shed her own tears as she shook her head. Letting her breath out slowly, she opened her eyes once more, then wiped the tears from her face.
“You wish to know why?” she asked at last.
With her head bowed still, Marshalla nodded.
“Very well.” Anise sighed. “I will tell you, but know that, come what may, no matter how you feel, I do this because I care about you.”
At this, Marshalla stared at her, a frown upon her lips.
Taking one more deep breath, Anise ploughed forward. “It’s because of…her.”
Marshalla’s frown deepened. “What’d she do?”
“You didn’t see how she butchered those people, Marsha. She’s an animal, a monster.”
Marshalla shook her head. “She was protecting us. Protecting you.”
“No, Marsha, she did was she did because she enjoyed the slaughter.”
“But—”
“I know how you feel about her, truly I do. Your words and Baern’s still ring in my ears. But that creature is…”
Anise gritted her teeth as she stared at Marshalla. This was harder than she’d thought.
“I’ve been wrestling with my conscience on this, Marsha,” she continued after a spell, “and I can’t abide by it. I know I gave you and Baern my word, but I just can’t.”
“What you mean?” Marshalla demanded as her eyes slowly grew wide.
“You’re losing her, woman! Shut your mouth!”
But Anise couldn’t. “I can’t sit by and do nothing while she roams free. She’s a danger to us all. You included.”
“No,” Marshalla replied, leaning onto the desk. “No! She not that person anymore! She won’t harm nobody!”
“She harmed those people in the storehouse.”
“They was trying to kill us!”
“And can you say, without any doubt in your mind, that should she somehow gain control of Tip, permanent control, she won’t turn on us?”
“Yes!”
Anise shook her head. “You can’t, Marsha, nobody can. Nobody knows her heart.”
The silence returned, and it was unbearable. Then, as Anise stared into Marshalla’s eyes, she saw within them that which she wished not to see, but knew deep down was the only outcome. Within those eyes, she saw hate. Within those eyes, she saw revulsion. Within those eyes, she saw the death of their friendship.
“Told you.”
With every ounce of strength she could muster, Anise sat perfectly still, the pain in her heart hidden from her features. In that silence, she stared at Marshalla, and stared on till Marshalla began backing away from her. Then, her lips moved as if of their own accord.
“I have been avoiding you because seeing you makes it difficult to—”
“You going to tell.”
Anise gritted her teeth. “Yes.”
That one word brought Marshalla’s fear to her face, true and raw.
“Well played, Anise,” she thought
, her words echoing with such deep bitterness. “Well bloody played.”
But her lips kept moving.
“With Thuridan the way he is, a revelation like this may well push him over the edge, and that’s the only reason I haven’t told Matriarch yet. But once he’s—”
“They’ll put Tip in a void sphere,” Marshalla said, her voice quivering.
Anise swallowed hard. “I know. But his sacrifice—”
“No!” Marshalla exclaimed, shaking her head as she backed away from Anise. “You can’t do this!”
“I must,” Anise replied as she rose. “You must believe me when I say I don’t hate you, or Tip, upon my honour! But I must do this. ”
“No,” Marshalla replied, shaking her head still. Won’t let you! No!”
Then, Marshalla spun about and bounded for the door.
“Damn it, wait!” Anise yelled as she darted after her, catching Marshalla’s arm just as she flew out of the door, and with a grunt, the Archmage pulled Marshalla back into the room before slamming the door shut.
“Let me go!” Marshalla shrieked as she fought Anise’s grip.
“Keep your voice down!”
“Let me go!”
“People will hear you and come see what we’re arguing about! Do you want them to hear all this?”
Falling silent, Marshalla glared at Anise with a mix of fear and hate. It was enough to break the Archmage’s heart anew. At last, she let Marshalla go, only to watch her back away as if her life were threatened. The girl was lost to her, Anise knew this, but she carried on regardless.
“We can’t save Tip, Marsha. Mardaley’s plan of separating them is a pipe dream, nothing more. And I know what the Tower will do to him seems barbaric, but she is a danger! You must see that!”
Marshalla held her peace, choosing instead to glare.
“You will never be safe around her, Marsha, ever. In time, she will turn on you. Once Tip is fully hers, she will turn on us all. And even if she doesn’t, you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. Tip is going to join the Shimmering Tower, think what that means! Once he joins, all it’ll take is a single outburst and the truth will be revealed. You will spend each day in fear, wondering if you’ll ever see Tip again, and if, by some miracle, the truth is revealed and you and he escape, you will both be hunted, not just by us, but by legions of others looking to subjugate her.”