by Becky James
“I’m sorry, but we have to go,” the other Evyn interrupted. “Now, if I could just work out how we get out of this shared dream, that would be nice, and we’ll go along our merry way.”
“MasterMage Waker must have ensnared you as well,” Aubin mused. “She’s looking for other minds to draw nightmares from. She can’t use Evyn or Thorrn that easily because of their resistance to magic, so she might be trying to find nightmares she can use against us across worlds and alt-histories.”
“She aims to use me as raw materials?” The other Aubin scowled. “I hate being thought of as an easy target.”
Aubin inclined his head. “We will have to defeat Waker to be released from this prison.”
“And… and if your Evyn is missing, I want to make sure she’s alright,” the other me said.
I smiled. “That’s kind of you.” He flushed, a darling shade that swarmed up his neck and blotched his cheeks. I slapped him on the back. “So, if you’re not a swordsman, what do you do on your world?”
“I am a swordsman! I’m a member of Special Forces,” he grumbled.
“Then the worlds are very different indeed.”
He scowled. “Special Forces won’t teach me,” he said, shrugging my hand off.
“What? How can you be a member if they won’t train you? Were you banished?” My skin crawled. Banishment was a punishment reserved for disobedience or dishonour on the battlefield, of breaking the core tenets. When a fighter was banished from Special Forces, all their tattoos would be removed and they would be cast out, shunned from all Oberrotian society.
“No. I was a slave.” He looked to his Evyn for reassurance. She smiled at him.
“What?” I took a step back. “That’s… awful.”
“It was.” He avoided meeting my eyes.
I couldn’t help but shudder. “This is literally my nightmare come to life. Are you sure you’re not dream things?”
He coloured again, this time a darker shade of red, and balled his fists so hard the knuckles cracked. The other Aubin called, “Thorrn, the alt-you is just as arrogant an ass as I imagined.”
“Careful there,” I warned. “Do you know how much I’d like to punch Aubin sometimes? I’d settle for punching you.” The other Thorrn snorted, and the other Aubin glared at him. “We are not alternatives in this timeline. You’re the alts.”
“I suppose, as we’re here in your world, we are the alts,” said alt-Evyn. She raised her eyebrows at her companions – alt-Thorrn and alt-Aubin – to forestall their protests. “Alright. So, where do we go from here?”
“We need to find my Evyn and rescue my king,” I said. “In terms of assault force, we have… Me. A me that can’t fight. Aubin, and…” I looked at alt-Aubin, standing far too casually with his hands on his hips. “What can you do?”
“Oh, nothing remarkable. Just an apothecary.”
“Mm. With a few extra skills.” Aubin drew his Battlemistress blades. Alt-Aubin slid a matching pair out from opposite forearms. Grim smiles trickled across both their faces.
“Put me under ‘Surprise Element’.” Alt-Aubin slid the blades back to rest along his forearms under his sleeves. After a heartbeat, my Aubin did the same. “Where’s Waker in all this? I take it she’s unlikely to let us out with a kiss of goodwill if we manage to find what you’re looking for.”
I turned to scan the sky. “I don’t know. She could be nowhere in this dreamworld, but I suspect that as we free her captives, she will move against us. We have found and liberated the queen, and she has helped us with a mental link to Gough and Gadamere. The queen is a Reader mage,” I explained. “I suspect that if we go after the king, Waker will intercept us, and that’s where Evyn will be as well.” I pointed to the castle. “I think King Gough will be at the heart of this. Maybe even in the Last Tower.”
“Where’s your Tuniel?” Alt-Thorrn asked.
“Outside guarding us from Rhona, the Journey Mage of Monsters, and my old contingent,” I said. Alt-Thorrn paled. “What?” I asked him.
“Just… We haven’t had good experiences with Rhona.” Alt-Thorrn’s jaw worked. “She can control berserkers. Be careful.”
“How do you know – ah. You’re me, from a different timeline. Well, what did she make you do?”
Alt-Thorrn’s jaw locked, and alt-Evyn touched his arm. “It’s a painful memory, but it might help him,” she told him softly. She faced me. “She was able to control him and wield him against his better judgement. Just… be careful.”
My heart wrenched. “What did you do?” I could see it on his face, his shame. “You hurt Evyn.” The idea of my body, my skills, being used against her made my stomach sour. I clenched my fists, glaring at him. Anyone who hurt my soul would pay the price.
“I was wondering how long it would take for them to fight,” one of the Aubins said.
“Shut up, you two,” I muttered.
“It wasn’t his fault,” alt-Evyn said quietly. “He would never hurt me in his right mind. Magic interfered. We were not bonded at the time, so he was not immune to its effects. We are only made to do things against our will and better judgement with magic controlling our actions. Believe me, if he had so much as called me names or said something insulting to me without magic involved, I would have separated from him.” She smiled to reassure me, then frowned. “What’s the matter?”
I turned away firmly. “I… Yes. Of course. You should be with someone who has never hurt you.”
“What did you do?” Now it was alt-Thorrn’s turn to glower at me.
“I insulted my Evyn gravely. I rejected her to start. I’m sorry.” I glanced up as something small entered my space.
Alt-Evyn took a tentative step toward me, opening her arms. Here was an Evyn I had never hurt, and she looked at me with a depth of love that shocked me. It was clear this Evyn and Thorrn had come through much together.
Pressing her briefly to my chest, I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Well, this is all very cute, but I think I’d like to escape from this dreamworld,” alt-Aubin said. “I dislike being unrooted from reality.”
“Alright. Formation, lady and gentlemen,” I said, clearing my throat. “Alt-Thorrn to me. Aubins, keep an eye on the flank. You’re not formally trained, but you are pretty smart. Actually, hold on a heartbeat here. Evyn can transfer knowledge in dreams. I wonder if I can do the same.” Grabbing the back of alt-Thorrn’s head, I pressed my forehead to his.
“What are you doing?” alt-Thorrn choked.
“Take on some fighter knowledge. Pull it out of my brain somehow.”
“Is this how you say hello on your world?” Alt-Evyn asked.
“I’ll get my Evyn to explain. Would have been helpful if it worked, though.”
Suddenly he disarmed me, holding my father’s sword and twirling it. “Huh. Looks like it did.”
“Mm. Now give that back. It was my father’s.”
“You mean our father’s.” He looked up the length of it, jaw working, and handed it back.
“Thanks.” I materialised him a copy. “Here. From my Shard. I’m sure he would have been appalled at what you had to go through, but you’re still standing.” Tuniel’s words came back to me. “It seems we’re the sort of fighters who keep getting back up time and again. That’s good to know.”
Alt-Thorrn nodded. “Still beating.”
Alt-Aubin took a step back from me. “You can keep whatever you have in your head,” he said. “I have my own ways and means.”
“I’d like a shot.” Alt-Evyn bounded up to me. I pressed my forehead to hers, and her eyes widened with surprise. “Cool! Like the Matrix.”
“That’s what my Evyn said.” I missed her with a pull as wrenching as the one Gavain used against my shoulders.
In our phalanx with me at the head, we made our way back through the gates and into the quiet courtyard. I scouted ahead and waved everyone into the gallery. “Where is everyone?” My voice echoed through the hallways. “We should get up high. If
the king isn’t being held in the royal apartments or the Last Tower, we’ll at least be able to see around us and figure out where she might be. Keep an ear out for explosions or the like, as Evyn will be wrecking a lot of stuff if she can.”
“Explosions, eh. That is a different Evyn,” alt-Evyn said with a smile.
“She’s multi-talented. As are you, if you can travel into different alt-histories. Is there nothing you can’t do?” I said, smiling as Special Forces red crept across her face.
I concentrated on what I had to consider as enemy territory. Given that the last time Evyn, Aubin and I had been in the castle we had been chased at sword-point out of it, it wasn’t that much of a leap, but these walkways and well-worn stones had been my home all my life. It hit me that, if I failed in my mission, I would be unlikely to see these ever again, except in my memories and dreams.
Straightening my reds, I pressed on, leading the group up the spiral staircase and biting down on the inside of my cheeks. Stretching my senses, I heard nothing. That in itself was cause for concern. The castle never slept; even at night messengers roved to and fro, sending the king’s wishes on their journeys across the land. “This feels all wrong. Proceed with caution,” I whispered.
A boom rattled the staircase, and I barely kept my footing.
“Use the dreamlands! Do something!” Aubin said.
“Ah! You’re right. Then… Gough is just up here in the—”
“Thorrn, help!” The scream cut my heart and dragged my attention down the hallway. Evyn! My Evyn. I signalled and marched up the stairs, drawing my sword as we gained the level of the library. Glancing about, I marked we were present and ready, weapons drawn.
“Here they come. Your men to rescue you.” Waker’s voice came from behind the big double doors.
“And a few more,” I muttered. Wouldn’t the MasterMage be surprised. I shouldered my way into the library.
Chapter 22
My attention snapped to Evyn, who was tied spread-eagled onto a wheel. Terrible tubes erupted from her elbow and thighs, blood dripping into buckets below. I felt nauseous at the stream but pushed it back. Evyn looked pale and dizzy, head lolling on her chest.
In front of her stood a tall, gaunt, middle-aged woman with red hair flaming down her back. Waker. She remained implacable as the door boomed open.
In between me and her were two figures. One was Tuniel in green armour. The other was an older version of me. I frowned. Another alt?
“Luc,” alt-Evyn gasped.
Alt-Aubin swore. “Damn and blast. I suspect she was able to snatch him out of my mind, given we were just talking about him.” He pulled his blades free and into a guard stance, but his stance was overly stiff.
“And that’s our Tuniel out of your head.” I frowned at my Aubin. “Why are you afraid of your own soul companion?”
Aubin’s pale face scowled. “Souls of mages and mancers are typically killed. Isn’t that enough?”
I took a guess. “No.”
“Get away!” my Evyn cried from the wheel. “She’s drawing nightmares from – oh.” Her head lifted weakly to stare at the cavalcade behind me, and especially the second Evyn.
“We defeated Luc before. We can do it again,” alt-Evyn said to her men.
“Good, I’ll go for the mage,” I told them. “Special Forces is trained to deal with mages.” I raised my sword against Tuniel. One of the Aubins – mine by the familiar clothes – clamped his hand on my arm. “Get off!”
The dream Tuniel stepped forward. “Aubin, you have done well to bring me Earthian blood. Now I will rise to power and bleed her dry.”
Aubin held on tight to my arm. “Tuniel, we don’t have to do this,” he said. “I admit I had concerns, but I believe you can control your power, not the other way around.”
“Don’t bother talking to it,” I said, shrugging him off. “We’re killing this dream thing.”
“Don’t you dare! That’s my soul.”
“It’s a dream thing, it’s not real! The real Tuniel is outside, guarding us all.”
“And you trust her to do that?” this dream Tuniel asked. “When at any heartbeat Evyn’s life could be…” My Evyn gave a groan, shuddering and fainting into her bonds. “… cut short.”
My heart pounded. “Whether I do or not, it’s happening.” What had I done? Had I trusted a mage too easily?
Alt-Thorrn saw my face blanch. “It’s fine in our alt-history,” he assured me. “My wife wouldn’t hurt Evyn.”
“Thorrn!” alt-Evyn snapped.
“You’re… married? To a mage? You have a mage that close to your soul?” I shook my head. “I can’t deal with this now.” Grabbing hold of Aubin’s shoulder, I propelled him to the other group. “I offer a trade; my Aubin won’t attack this dream.”
“Fine by me. I know that’s not my Tuniel.” Alt-Aubin strode over, blades tapping against his leg. “I don’t think we can win, though. Even though you’re getting immune to magic, you don’t have a defence against the stones melting beneath you or falling from the ceiling.”
“Those are both wonderful ideas,” Tuniel said.
My legs buckled, the stone as thick and heavy as tar. She raised her arm, but alt-Thorrn raced up and slammed into her, taking her to the ground.
“Come on. Get out, soldier boy,” alt-Aubin said, clucking his tongue. “Your bond isn’t strong enough yet, it seems. You’ll have to deal with Luc instead.” Heaving me up and out of the sticking tar, alt-Aubin shoved me over to where alt-Evyn and my Aubin faced off against the older man.
“He is a mancer, and his magic is pain,” alt-Evyn explained quickly. “He can reawaken every moment of pain you’ve ever experienced. If he touches you, you won’t be able to get back up.”
Aubin glanced at me. “That’ll be your shoulders all over again. Don’t let him touch you.”
I swallowed. “Noted.” We needed long-range weapons. I materialised halberds to keep this nightmare at bay and a crossbow for me. Aubin dropped his knives to pick one up and began herding Luc back, alt-Evyn copying him.
“Well met, nephew.” A smirk curled across the mancer’s face.
“Nephew?” I said, frowning.
“Never you mind. Just kill him,” alt-Evyn said.
“Dolobere’s offshoot, you said,” Aubin murmured. “Thorrn, who is your grandfather on your father’s side?”
“Nevermind that!” Alt-Evyn sounded strangled.
“I don’t know. Shard changed his name to reflect his strong bond with Istadella.”
Aubin’s eyes widened.
I swung around to alt-Evyn. “What? Really?”
Alt-Evyn rubbed her temples. “I don’t like to affect other alt-histories, I really don’t. You never know what might come out of meddling.”
My jaw dropped. “You mean to tell me Shard is a… a royal bastard? He’s a… and I’m a… but I protect the crown, I don’t… huh?”
“You’ve broken him. It will take him a while to recover,” Aubin said.
I shook my head. “I can’t deal with all these revelations now! But you can put rubles on me bringing this back up when we have a quiet moment!”
I glanced at Evyn to check her colour. She hung unconscious and pale; how much blood had that monster mage drained from her? Luc’s foot splashed in a container of my soul’s blood – and he grew to three times the size. I aimed with my crossbow but every bolt bounced off him. Swearing, I grabbed for my sword and leapt in, slashing upwards and opening up his belly. Thick coils of entrails dropped to the floor.
Luc swiped at me but I had already danced back. “That’ll end him,” I said, dragging in a breath and nearly gagging on the smell of entrails. “I’ll go help with Tuniel.”
Tuniel was trying to get up, but alt-Thorrn lay on top of her. Of course – she wouldn’t be able to do any area-wide magic with him so close. Wading in, I grabbed her hair, severing her head with a decisive slice. “There. Done.” I panted.
Except that the head rolled to the wa
ll, bounced back and reattached. The Luc giant roared and swiped at alt-Evyn, knocking her to the wall.
My Aubin ran to retrieve her. “There’s something I’m missing here,” he said. “I need to stop and think—”
“No time!” I stabbed Tuniel. She brushed my sword aside and lunged for me.
“This has to be my nightmare, Tuniel attacking Evyn,” Aubin said.
“And where did Luc come from? Aren’t we in Gough’s dreamlands right now, the castle?” I shouted back.
“That she plucked from my head,” alt-Aubin chimed in. Picking up a halberd, he fended off the Luc beast alongside my Aubin.
“She can’t get nightmares from Gough,” my Aubin said. “He’s immune to magic, because of his connection to Rose.”
Alt-Aubin replied, “So this is our combined nightmare? Where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know, but I cannot escape the thought that we’re playing right into her hands.” Aubin drew back. “We won’t be able to defeat these things. We’re just going to wear ourselves out trying.”
I shoved the dream Tuniel back. “We have to get Evyn, though. We can’t leave her there!”
Suddenly, Tuniel and Luc froze while Waker became animated. “And thus we come to it,” the MasterMage said. “You can see that you are mired in a nightmare. You will fight to exhaustion, whereupon you will be killed.” Waker folded her arms. “Or there is another way.”
“And what’s that?” my Aubin asked.
“A Thrall contract. With him.” She pointed at me.
I lowered my sword, my heart thudding in my chest.
“What’s a Thrall contract?” alt-Evyn whispered. “Nothing good, I take it?”
“It’s old magic,” alt-Aubin whispered back. “A non-mage or mancer can give their spirit freely to a magic user. They will become their tool for life. The wording of the contract is very important, though; as old magic, it will work by the letter of the law.”
My Aubin stepped forward. “What terms are you offering?” he asked.