by Davis Ashura
“I think the Village Council should lift the block on Serena’s ability to dream back,” William said. “We need to learn everything we can about Shet.”
Serena paced along the hallway outside the small chamber within the Municipal Center of Arylyn, where the Village Council met. The building was as nondescript as the rest of Lilith was lovely. From the outside it resembled a jail rather than a place of governance. Four windowless walls made up the exterior, and the interior held a similarly boring decor with a color palette limited to tans. Tan walls, a tan ceiling, and tan wooden flooring. In addition, other than the Council’s meeting chamber, a few bathrooms, and this one hallway, the building held no other rooms.
Perhaps the uninspired design was related to the nature of Arylyn’s politics. In the Far Beyond, libertarians would have considered Lilith heavenly. The government was intentionally ineffectual and limited, but somehow it worked. As a result, there had never been any need for large municipal buildings full of bureaucrats passing endless rules and regulations.
“One bureaucrat is a necessity, two are a nuisance,” was a popular saying on Arylyn.
“You’re wearing a hole in the floor,” William said.
Serena grimaced. Anxiety had birthed a flock of butterflies in her stomach. She didn’t think she’d ever been this nervous before, not even when confronted by the danger of Kohl Obsidian.
“Sit down.” William patted the bench on which he sat, the only furniture in the hallway.
Serena took a seat next to him. “I wish they’d hurry up,” she said. “The not knowing is killing me.”
“I’m guessing you don’t mean it in a literal sense,” William said with a smile.
“No, I do mean it literally,” Serena snapped. She knew William was only trying to be funny, but she wasn’t in the mood to laugh.
Zane Blood, a native-born magus and the councilor for Cliff Spirit, exited the Council’s meeting chamber. He was a middle-aged man of middling height and build, with sharp features, a balding pate, and an officious manner. Zane peered over the rim of his glasses and his eyes scanned up and down the hall as if searching for something. He frowned in clear annoyance before he finally noticed them sitting on the bench.
Zane harrumphed. “Come with me,” he said with a snap of his fingers. “We’re ready.”
He led them into the Council Chamber, a room every bit as boring as the rest of the building. Three hard benches with all the comfort of a pew faced a plain, rectangular table, behind which sat the councilors.
“Have a seat,” Mayor Care said to them, before focusing her attention on Serena. “We understand you wish to have your restrictions lifted.”
“I do,” Serena said. Her nervousness faded as action finally allowed an outlet for her energy.
“Why should we?” asked Bar Duba, the councilor for Cliff Air. He was a tall, stout man, and his Mediterranean-dark skin and hair indicated his lineage as native to Arylyn. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched for his heavy build. “You are a mahavan, after all.”
“I was a mahavan,” Serena corrected. “I stopped being one the moment I agreed to help William and Jake escape.”
“Weren’t you the one who captured them in the first place?” demanded Councilor Break Foliage of Cliff Fire. He was a weaselly man with a nasally voice, and also native-born.
Serena flushed in both embarrassment and annoyance, but she didn’t let the anger touch her voice. “An action for which I’m not proud,” she said in an even tone.
“And yet you’d likely do it again if the circumstances were similar?” asked Seema Choudary, a small, quiet Indian woman with a raspy voice, the councilor for Cliff Earth.
“No,” Serena said. “I’d ask for help rather than sell someone into slavery.”
“So you say,” replied Lucas Shaw, a tall, slender American who was originally from Charleston, South Carolina. He retained the accent of his blue-blood Southern forebears and represented Cliff Water.
“So Afa and Mr. Zeus say,” Serena replied. “You have their testimony on my behalf.”
Mayor Care shook some papers, but didn’t appear all too pleased. “We do, but we still have questions. Why should we trust you with this ability? Dreaming to a mahavan. How do we know you won’t give away Arylyn’s location?”
“That very question was given to me the second time I wore Afa’s governor,” Serena replied. “If you’ve read the testimony I presented, you already know my answer. I couldn’t lie when I wore the governor. I won’t tell anyone about Arylyn’s location.”
“Based on your teachings from Sinskrill, I accept that you truly believe that Lord Shet lives and that Seminal is real,” Councilor Duba said. “But do those instructions not strike you as merely a cautionary tale? A Dark Lord who will snatch up the naughty children of Sinskrill if they misbehave?”
“I know Shet’s real,” Serena said, “as do Afa and Mr. Zeus.” She gestured to the papers before Mayor Care. “They say as much in their testimony.”
“You keep bringing up Zeus and Afa like they’re talismans,” Councilor Shaw said. “We hold both of them in great esteem, but neither Zeus or Afa are nomasras that can banish our worries.”
“I hoped if you didn’t believe me, you’d believe them,” Serena said, “especially Mr. Zeus. He tolerates me, but I doubt he likes me much.”
“I’m not sure if I like you much either,” Councilor Blood said.
“Why not?” William asked. “You don’t know her.”
“You weren’t asked to attend this meeting, Mr. Wilde,” Mayor Care admonished.
“I’m here to offer support for Serena,” William said. “Besides which, all Council meetings are open, aren’t they?”
“Even though she kidnapped you to Sinskrill and exposed you to torture and torment?” Councilor Choudary asked.
“I understand why she did what she did,” William said, “and I’ve forgiven her for it.”
Councilor Foliage stroked his pointy chin. “What about your friend, Jake?”
“You have his testimony as well,” Serena said. “He also supports my petition.”
Councilor Duba yawned in apparent boredom. “We all know how we’ll vote,” he said. “Let’s be done with it. I’m late for supper, and my wife is making my favorite meal.”
“Every meal is your favorite meal,” Councilor Choudary said with a smile.
“True.” Councilor Duba laughed and patted his ample stomach. “But if you don’t want me sautéing your toes, I say we vote.”
“I agree,” Mayor Care said. “Motion to vote?”
“Motion,” Councilor Duba said.
“Second,” said Councilor Choudary.
“All in favor of voting now?” Mayor Care asked.
It was unanimous.
“Then all in favor of lifting Serena’s restrictions?” Mayor Care asked.
Five voted in favor.
“Against.”
Only Councilor Blood voted against.
“The motion carries,” Mayor Care said.
William beamed. “Congratulations.” He pulled Serena into an embrace.
“I’ll have Mr. Zeus or someone of similar skill lift your braid,” Mayor Care said.
“Thank you,” Serena said. Her eyes welled as a rush of gratitude filled her. She loved Arylyn, but until this moment, she’d never truly felt accepted. Now, she did.
“You better not betray us,” Councilor Blood growled.
April 1989
for the past two years, like clockwork on a bi-monthly basis, Jake tested with Mr. Zeus, attempting to create a braid that would limit a normal person’s ability to discuss what a magus didn’t want them to talk about. So far, every effort had ended in failure. Jake could create the braid as specified, but only one time out of every three. The other two times his weaves came apart in a flash of light.
“I’ll get it this time,” Jake said to Mr. Zeus.
“I’m sure you’ll do your best,” the old man replied, with what Jake took
to be a pitying smile.
“My best is going to get me home,” Jake declared, forcing certainty into his voice. This time it had to work.
Mr. Zeus gestured for Jake to begin. “Show me.”
As usual, the testing took place in Mr. Zeus’ study. Jake sat in the soft embrace of one of the leather chairs while Mr. Zeus took the adjoining one. The books and scrolls served as the only witnesses.
Jake took a measured breath and blew out all his doubts.
Ready.
He sourced his lorethasra, drew forth a strand of Spirit, and deftly twisted it into shape. He let it drift across his forehead, over his chest, and down his forearms before it settled in one of his hands. Next, he unspooled a line of Earth and laced the rustling, ivy Element around and through his braid of Spirit. He knew both strands were too thick, and in times past, the next step—leeching the Spirit out of the weave and thinning Earth—had always led to failure.
“A quick weaving,” Mr. Zeus said in approval, “but you know as well as I that it’s too strong. It’ll maim whoever you use it on.”
“I know,” Jake said. His eyes narrowed in concentration. Now the lessons he’d practiced during the past few weeks would be put to the test. He took a moment to collect himself. No need to rush things.
His braid required a reduction of its strength, but this time, rather than directly thinning the lace of Earth, Jake added a touch of Water. It quickly eroded the other strand and left it a barely visible webbing.
Jake smiled.
Perfect.
“An unusual use of Water, but effective,” Mr. Zeus noted. “What about your Spirit? It’s still too thick.”
Jake brought up a line of Air. He set it spinning along the braid and poured the excess Spirit into it, careful to leave no areas of weakness. Seconds later, his braid was complete, but this time it possessed both the correct form and the correct depth of strength.
Mr. Zeus stroked his long, white beard in thought. “Who taught that to you?”
“Afa. He showed me how to whittle away the rough edges of a weave by using a different Element as a kind of sandpaper. He said it’s used by those with too much power and not enough control. It’s what William does most of the time.”
“You haven’t used this until now because …” Mr. Zeus left the question open-ended.
“Because I didn’t realize I had to,” Jake answered. “No one else did, either. We all thought I was average, but I guess not.”
Mr. Zeus’ brow furrowed. “Do it again. Beginning to end. No pauses, and as quickly as you can.”
Jake dispersed his braid and did as Mr. Zeus directed. He formed the weave as swiftly as he could. His control wobbled now and then, but in seconds, he had another braid woven and ready.
Mr. Zeus dispersed his creation. “Again.”
Jake did so.
“Again.”
Mr. Zeus had him form the braid ten times, and each time Jake formed it without any flaw.
After the last one, the swiftest yet, Mr. Zeus clapped his hands once and called an end to the testing. He wore a broad grin. “Enough. You have it,” he said as he rose to his feet.
Jake stood as well, and a burgeoning elation filled him. “I have it?”
“You have it,” Mr. Zeus confirmed. He placed his hands on Jake’s shoulders. “I’m so proud of you. You never faltered in your studies, no matter how many times you came up short.”
“I get to go?” Jake asked. He needed to hear the words.
“You get to go. No reservations. I can’t tell you how happy I am for you.” Mr. Zeus held up an admonishing finger. “The braid is perfect, but you still need speed.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake agreed, but his mind had already raced ahead to what he would say when he saw his family again, and his heart came close to bursting.
Jake held a small lantern to illuminate the way as he climbed the final feet to the top of Linchpin Knoll. Accompanying him were William, Jason, and Mr. Zeus, each of them holding their own lights.
Night had long since settled over Arylyn, and this late no one else was awake in the village. The wind breathed through the trees and pulsing water surged down the cataracts, the sound somehow softer at night. Shadows of statues and trees bent into strange, fantastical shapes. A stillness held Lilith in a peaceful touch, a quiet made magical by moonbeams and stars lighting the waterfalls and mist. The ethereal elements of light and water clothed Lilith in a mystical, ivory calm as time seemed to slow and stretch out.
Jake stared heavenward and prayed, thanking the Lord for the life with which he’d been graced. So many had it so much worse. He also reflected on the evening sky, wondering whether tonight was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. As always, he couldn’t tell.
“Are you ready?” Mr. Zeus asked, returning Jake’s attention to the here and now.
Jake’s heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. He shivered with excitement, wanting to howl at the moon and cast lightning from his hands. He realized he was grinning, and he also knew he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He was going home. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure it was real.
“Settle down,” Jason said, slapping him on the shoulder. “You’re smiling like an idiot.”
“That’s because he is an idiot,” William said.
“Peace,” Mr. Zeus said. “He’s earned the right to be happy.”
“Yeah, but we’re still going to make fun of him,” William said.
Their words washed through Jake but didn’t touch him. None of their teasing mattered. Tonight was the culmination of a long journey, an odyssey that had seen him kidnapped, endure enough pain and heartbreak to last several lifetimes, and master magic.
But tonight those troubles would reach their end.
“You sure you don’t want anyone else tagging along?” Jason asked.
“We’ll be fine,” Jake answered. He indicated William, whom he’d asked to come with him.
“As long as there aren’t any necrosed waiting at the saha’asra in West Virginia,” William said.
“There aren’t,” Mr. Zeus said. “We’ve discretely checked every once in a while. They all left more than a year ago. None of them have come back. We were even able to procure a car for you.”
“Really? What kind?” William asked.
Mr. Zeus smiled. “It’s a surprise.” He passed over a set of keys.
“A Ford?” William asked.
Jake didn’t care what kind of car they drove. “Let’s go,” he said, unable to wait any longer. His heart thudded with uncontainable excitement.
William hitched a backpack full of clothes, and Jake slung his bag as well.
“It’ll be morning in West Virginia,” Mr. Zeus told them. “You’ll need to place a braid of forgetfulness on anyone who sees you.”
“We know,” William said in an exasperated tone, and while Jake couldn’t see William’s eyeroll, he sensed it.
Apparently, so did Mr. Zeus. “Yes, I’m sure you know everything already,” he said sarcastically, “but it doesn’t hurt to go over the simple details. They’re usually the keys to success.”
“Yes, sir,” William said, sounding abashed.
“You remember the key to open Arylyn’s anchor line?” Mr. Zeus asked.
Jake pulsed the answer in a series of flashing threads of Fire.
“Good. Then we’ll see you in a few days.”
“Weeks,” Jake corrected. “I’m staying for a while.”
“But I’ll be back in a few days,” William said. “I don’t need to be in Jake’s way the whole time he’s there.”
“You’re coming back later on though, right?” Jake asked.
William nodded. “After you’re settled in with your family.”
“And you have your nomasras?” Mr. Zeus asked.
“Yes, sir,” Jake said. He showed Mr. Zeus the large, emerald ring on his right hand, while William displayed the locket Serena had given him. He’d woven it into a nomasra and hung it from a chain aro
und his neck.
“Then safe travels,” Mr. Zeus said.
Jake sourced his lorethasra and reached for the anchor line. In his excitement, it kept slipping from his grasp, and he flushed in embarrassment.
“Need some help?” William asked.
“I got it,” Jake grumbled. He finally managed to trigger the anchor line.
A line blacker than the night split the world. It rotated on its axis and opened into a doorway filled with swirling colors like in a kaleidoscope and a pulsing yellow beacon. The colors bled away at the same time that a deep-throated bell rang and a rainbow bridge filled the doorway.
“Here goes,” Jake said to no one in particular. He realized he was grinning again, and again he didn’t care. He reached with his Spirit and stepped onto the rainbow bridge. His body stretched, threatened to unravel, and a wash of sound like an endless surge of water against a beach rushed past his ears.
Everything snapped short, and Jake stumbled forward. He regained his footing in time to see William arrive an instant later. They both took a moment to gather their bearings.
They stood in a meadow, gathered into the embrace of a northern forest. The newly risen sun glinted above the tree line, and frost shimmered like tiny crystals upon spring-green grass and dogwoods dressed in corsages of pink and white flowers. In comparison, the other trees of the forest stood unclothed and naked.
A handful of darkened cabins rimmed the perimeter of the meadow. Thankfully, no one was out and about.
“Is this the right place?” Jake asked.
“This is it,” William said.
“I don’t think anyone saw us arrive,” Jake said, glancing around.
William shivered. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t have good memories of this place.” He headed toward a gravel-lined parking lot containing a couple of cars and several pickup trucks.
“Which one is ours?” Jake asked.
William grinned. “That one.” He pointed to a hot-rod-red T-bird.
“How do you know?”