by Mike Truk
“Very well,” she said, voice dull.
“Thank you.” I wanted to thank Blind Fortuna, too, but didn’t want to press my luck. “Pony? You all right?”
The war troll had climbed to his feet, lower jaw jutting out as if in thought, brow lowered. He gave me an assenting grunt, though he seemed strangely distracted.
“Tamara?” I hurried back and helped her sit against the wall. “Are you going to be all right?”
“I… yes. My head. Splitting pain. Need to… I just need a moment. Candle? My front satchel.” She was wincing as she looked up at me, as if I stood just behind a piercingly bright light.
“Here.” I dug out her nub of candle, lit it with the live coal she kept in her firebox, and then handed it to her.
“Thoughts… strange. Sluggish. One… one second.” She focused on the candle flame, and then began to whisper.
I sat back on my heels. I’d seen her do this many times, now. It would be over soon. But to my surprise the candle flame changed beneath her hand, not just lengthening like a snake but spreading out like a dinner plate.
Tamara jerked back her hand and the flame snapped back to its normal self over the candle.
“Tamara?” I asked.
“What’s happened to me?” She sat up against the wall, stared at her candle, and then up at me. “The blow to my head. Perhaps…?”
Netherys was watching from the side. “Iris healed you through the Exemplar of the White Sun. Perhaps that’s changed your matrix, as she calls it.”
“Changed… healed me through…?” Tamara looked around, taking in the tomb, the dead elves, where Aurora lay on her side, eyes closed, looking for all the world as if she’d just fallen asleep. She clasped her hand over her mouth. “She’s dead?”
Cerys turned away.
“The White Sun have mercy,” said Tamara, voice shaking. “And - Iris? She healed me? But she’s - how is that even -?”
I closed both of my hands around her own. “Focus on healing yourself first,” I said. “Then we’ll explain.”
Tamara gave a shaky nod, gazed once more at the flame, and this time, without even raising her hand, the flame spread forth like a puddle of burning brandy flowing out across the floor.
Tamara’s eyes were wide, glazed with shock, but then her focus grew distant, as if she were staring past the flame, through me, and into a different world altogether.
“My… my matrix is changed. It’s… what did she do?” Her voice grew strident with fear as she turned to where Iris stood. “What did you do to me?!”
Iris’ lips were pursed, as if the topic no longer interested her. “Healed you, obviously. Your head injury was fatal. So I mapped the exemplar’s matrix over your own, and brought forth her areas to replace those of yours that were damaged. Obviously.”
“You… replaced mine… with…?” Tamara could barely get the words out. “I’ve now got… pieces of Aurora’s soul embedded within my own?”
Iris shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it, sure. But you’re alive. Kellik asked me to save you. So I did.”
Tamara looked up at me, tears glimmering in her eyes, and it was as if a great blade of ice slid into my chest. The horror and shock in her face was more than I could bare. “You… you asked her to do this?”
“I didn’t know what she was doing,” I said, holding onto her hands with both of my own. “She offered to heal you. I didn’t want you to die. I told her to do whatever it took.”
Tamara closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Visibly focused on her breathing, on controlling herself.
“Tamara, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t know.”
For achingly long seconds Tamara just sat there, breathing in and out of her nose with long, slow, deliberate breaths, and then, without warning, the candle flame spread out once more, forming that burning lake, and flowed up and around her head to form a searing corona of white fire.
I fell back on my ass for what - the second? third time? - driven back by the heat, which quickly faded away, along with the flames. When they were gone Tamara remained, her skin tone healthy and flushed, the deep lines of pain and exhaustion gone from her face, her hair vibrant and looking freshly washed, her breaths deep and powerful.
“I don’t know what this means,” said Tamara, slowly opening her eyes. “I don’t know - what?”
I was gaping. Jaw opening and closing, trying to find the words, trying to get them out, to even breathe.
My whole chest had seized up as if Pony had just slammed me with his hammer.
Tamara frowned, staring at me in confusion and dismay. “Kellik? What is it?”
Stared at me with eyes that were no longer a rich and wonderful brown, but whose irises now gleamed a silvery gold like hammered platinum.
Chapter 18
“Tamara,” I said, well, more like managed to choke out. “Your eyes…”
“Hmm?” This caught Iris’ interest, and she walked over.
“What about my eyes?” Tamara reached up as if to touch them. “They don’t feel different…”
And I realized then that more had changed than just her irises. Her manner was subtly different, too. Anyone who hadn’t spent so many hours with her over the past few weeks or month even might not have noticed, but she seemed slightly more self-composed, more… I didn’t even know exactly what to call it. Self-possessed? More centered?
Iris bent over to peer in her face and then clapped her hands. “Wonderful! This means… but wait. Does that indicate…?” She rubbed at her chin as she straightened and stepped away.
“Kellik?” Even Tamara’s new self-possession couldn’t hide her fear. “What’s happened?”
“Your eyes,” I said again, feeling as if I were having an out of body experience. “They’re… they’re platinum gold like Aurora’s were.”
Tamara froze. Fingertips still outstretched but an inch from her eye. Her skin, which had been a healthy hue, went pale once more. “What?”
“He’s right,” said Cerys, voice soft with amazement as she stepped up beside me. “You’ve… does that mean…?”
Netherys joined us on my other side. “You’ve become an exemplar? Of the White Sun?”
Tamara let out a burst of laughter which she immediately cut off by clamping her hand over her mouth. Her platinum-gold eyes went wide, serving to only emphasize the change.
“Impossible,” said Netherys, “or, at least… it was. Until today.”
“Iris?” I turned about to stare at the necromancer, who stood, chin propped in one hand. “What did you do?!”
“Hmm?” She blinked, coming out of her reverie, and glanced at me. “I already told you. Merged matrices. The question is, would this have happened to anyone else but Tamara? Pony’s eyes…” She turned and glanced up at the war troll, “remain the same. So he’s not become an exemplar. Perhaps Tamara’s affinity for the White Sun made her more susceptible to the change? Or perhaps… I wonder.”
“Tamara?” I turned back to her and reached out to touch her elbow. She’d remained completely still, eyes glassed over with shock. “Hey. It’s still… it’s still you.”
Was it though?
“I’m….” She lowered her hand, voice so faint I could barely hear it. “I’m an Exemplar… of the… but I’m Foresworn. I turned away from the White Sun. Why would… how could I be…?”
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling equal parts frustration and fear. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. But you’re still alive. You’re still Tamara. You’re still Foresworn, if that’s what you want to be. Right? Unless… do you suddenly want to return to the Church of the White Sun? Pick up where Aurora left off?”
For long, terrible, horrifying seconds she simply stared at me. Had Iris changed her so much she’d change her core beliefs? Had enough of Aurora come through as to warp her very sense of self?
“…no,” whispered Tamara at last, and I nearly fell over in relief.
“Then you’re still you. A
nd we’ll figure out what this all means when we have time. But for now, we need to keep moving. Need to do what we came to do and get out.”
Tamara gave a shaky nod, “Yes. We need to keep moving. But… if I’ve been chosen by the White Sun… if, somehow, I’ve become an exemplar... then we can’t simply go back to the way things were, Kellik.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I don’t know what this means, but I have to be worthy of it. And that means working toward a worthy cause, one the White Sun would bless. And following a worthy leader.”
A worthy leader.
The words cut me to the quick. The pain in her platinum eyes told me she knew how much they had hurt me. But she didn’t take them back.
“I understand,” I whispered, pushing my pain away, bolting it down so that I could remain focused, could keep functioning. “And we can figure that out once we’ve done what we came here to do.”
“And what is it we came here to do?” asked Cerys, voice caustic. “Other than to kill the undeserving and offend the very gods?”
“We came to learn about my heritage,” I said, rising to my feet, “and it seems to revolve around this Eye. An artifact whose usage drew Anadriel and Aurora here, both intent on stopping whomever has it.”
Netherys walked over to where the dead elves lay and scooped up her twin blades. “It sounded like the White Sun is using the Eye. Aurora seemed to indicate that she’s working on stopping them, which would imply that his holiness of the White Sun is behind this. Who else could oppose her?”
Tamara pressed her hands to her temples. “I can’t… the revelator? Using a king troll artifact? That can’t, I mean…”
“It’s a wicked world,” said Netherys with a smile, “and getting wickeder. Who wants to guess as to where that portal led?”
That was right. The white burning portal that Aurora had closed before fighting us.
Elsa pushed away from the wall. “I - I don’t know what I just saw, what the hell just happened here - is still happening - but without that portal we can’t continue. Unless… can you open it back up, Tamara? If… if you’re an exemplar, now?”
Tamara turned her head slowly to stare at Elsa, the shock making her expression blank. “Open what?”
“A portal,” said Elsa, voice faint. “That stood right there. Aurora closed it. Can you… I mean, do you know how to…?”
“No,” said Tamara.
“Oh,” said Elsa, shoulders slumping as she glanced toward the double doors that led back out into the hall. “Then… then this was… I don’t know how to continue.”
“I thought you expected to find ‘incalculable wealth’ here in the tomb,” I said. “Why are you suddenly so fixated on this portal?”
“I don’t see any wealth lying around here,” Elsa replied quickly, “do you? Barring that, going through the portal was the only option left.”
“Hmm. Well, have no fear,” I said, reaching into a pouch and drawing forth a cruel looking object made of iron spikes and interlaced rings. “You can take a handsome fool out of Port Gloom, but you can’t take Port Gloom out of - well, you know.”
“What’s that?” asked Elsa, stepping forward.
“It’s called a gloom key.” I approached where the portal had stood. “Powerful artifact from Port Gloom. We stole a few. And they…” I pushed it forward tentatively into the air where the portal had burned, “… are able to open up just about any… there.”
There was a rush of power, the gloom key shivered in my hand, and the portal flared back into life, spinning and burning with white fire.
“By the gods,” said Elsa. “Who are you people?”
I put the key away and took a deep breath. “We ready, everyone? Pony, Pogo?”
The war troll grunted, pounding one fist into the other palm. Pogo gave a crisp salute.
“Netherys? Iris?”
The dark elf sheathed her blades after wiping them clean on an elven cloak. “Ready.”
“As well,” said Iris. “And let us increase our company…” She extended her hand, and the elven corpses began to stir.
“No,” said Cerys. “Leave them be.”
Iris didn’t look her way. “We need their help.”
“No,” said Cerys, reaching for an arrow. Her voice shook with barely repressed emotion. “They were elves, by the White Sun. It’s bad enough that we killed them, but to raise them to do your bidding? Absolutely not.”
Iris looked sidelong at me. “Kellik?”
I ground the heel of my palm into my eye. “No, leave them be. Cerys is right. It feels wrong. Just believe me when I say it, all right, Iris? Even if you don’t understand.”
The necromancer’s eyes narrowed and the corpses slumped over. “Very well. Though I am growing frustrated by the abritrary nature of these decisions.”
“All right?” I asked Cerys.
She looked away from me as if the very prospect of meeting my eyes were too painful to contemplate, and managed a stiff nod.
Fuck. She was barely holding it together. Should I take her aside, try to talk to her? I studied her profile. The clenched jaw. The way her whole body seemed to vibrate with pent up grief. How her throat worked as she swallowed again and again as if holding back sobs or screams.
Fuck.
No. Taking her aside might just push her over the edge. I reached down for Tamara’s hand. The healer - no, exemplar - took it and allowed me to pull her up. She didn’t meet my eyes either, but looked down and away, still seeming to be in a state of shock.
“We’ll have to move fast once we step through,” said Elsa, “because we’ll probably be outside the ruins.”
I turned to scrutinize her. “What aren’t you telling us?”
She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, holding herself rigid as if in expectation of violence. “I’m guessing this portal leads to the temple of the White Sun. Where else would it go? If we’re heading into the temple, we’ll need to move fast. I can guide us. I’ve visited many times.”
There was more going on behind her eyes. “Did you know this portal was here?”
“No,” she said quickly, “I suspected -”
I put power into my next question, suffusing my words with the terrible might of my heritage. “Did you know the portal was here?”
Her eyes widened, glazed over, and she stepped back, “I - yes, it was a very strong possibility, the White Sun doesn’t go through the ruins to get here, they had to have come by portal, they’ve used portals before around Port Lusander -”
“Kellik,” hissed Cerys. “Stop.”
“I want the truth,” I said, mind still flooded with my power. A power which was coming all the more easily each time I used it.
Cerys narrowed her eyes. “Not like this. You start forcing people to speak whenever you want I’ll kill you here and not wait for Tamara to check you.”
And by the Hanged God’s ocular cavities I believed she would. And beyond that, part of me knew she was right. To start hitting people with my power whenever I suspected them of duplicity - whether I was right or not - was a huge step down a very slippery slope.
“Fine,” I said, pinching the brow of my nose. “Elsa. Why didn’t you tell us?”
She pressed a hand to her temple. “I - what just -”
“Answer the question,” snapped Cerys.
“Because I didn’t want to spook you. But now? Having seen what I’ve seen?” She laughed, a mirror to Tamara’s own near hysterical bark, her own high pitched and wild. “I pity anyone that gets in your way. Everything’s going to shit. Everything.”
“Not yet,” I said, “we’re still here. Is there anything else you haven’t told us?”
Elsa inhaled deeply, visibly composing herself, and then shook her head. “No. I’ve told you everything.”
I held her gaze. Stared into the depths of her eyes, and had to admire her for how skillfully she lied. “Tie her up.”
“Wait!” She backed up as Pony strode toward her. “You can’t do this,
we had an agreement, you need me in the temple -”
“An agreement based on mutual honesty,” I said. “The stakes are too high to trust you any further. Sorry Elsa. You shouldn’t have played us false.”
Her eyes darted from side to side, and then she relaxed. “All right. That’s fair. Go ahead and tie me up.”
That was too easy. I watched her, trying to catch some hint of what was going on in her mind as Pogo quickly bound her wrists behind her and then wound his rope around her arms and down to her ankles where he trussed her legs together. She sat, and in short order was professionally immobolized.
“Elsa,” I said, squatting before her. My left foot was starting to feel better, I realized. More solid. “This is your one chance to tell me anything you think I should know. You’ve seen what my friends and I are capable of. Come on. Come clean.”
Elsa gave me a defiant, apologetic smile. “Sorry Kellik. It’s your loss if you get rid of me.”
“Use your power,” said Netherys. “Or allow me ten minutes with her. I’ll get her to talk quickly enough.”
Elsa’s smile vanished.
“No,” said Cerys. “I won’t allow it.”
“Kellik,” sighed Netherys, turning toward me and rolling her eyes. “Seriously? Is she going to have veto power over ever practical application of our abilities when it doesn’t align with her suddenly fragile sense of morality?”
“Keep talking that way,” said Cerys, voice a low hiss once more. “I’ll put an arrow through one of your damned eyes and consider it a small mitigation of the sins I’ve committed.”
“No,” I said, a wave of fatigue washing over me. It was falling apart. Our group. One way or the other we were fragmenting after this. The realization filled me with bitterness and regret. “Cerys is right. No torture. And I won’t use my power like that.”
“This is idiocy,” said Netherys, speaking slowly and plainly as if addressing a child. “If Elsa is betraying us, then we -”
“Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes,” I said. “I’m sorry, Netherys. I hear you. But I don’t want to emerge from these ruins a vastly different man than from what I entered. And I’ve never been all right with torture.”