The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2)

by Matthew W. Harrill

  “You would not dare!” Yerdu erupted, her outrage filling the decks and making many of the sailors grin.

  “If they would not, I would.” It was Malcolm, who had crept silently on his huge feet up the stairs behind them. “I know what you mean to everybody here, especially these wizards you profess to love. I know what it is to lose somebody Yerdu, and I will not let you be lost to them, not if there is a chance to survive.”

  “What if they are lost to us?” she asked in a tiny voice, one that truly showed how small she could become.

  “You will have to have faith that we will not, dearest.” Belyn spoke with emotion that he seldom showed, proof of how serious he thought the situation to be.

  In response, Yerdu ran to him, and hugged into him, kissing him deeply. “I will pray for you, Belyn Stroddick. Get out of this alive.”

  Joleen and Keldron were of a similar, if more bashful parting. A lingering kiss out of sight of the rest. “Come back to me,” was all she said, but the unshed tears spoke volumes more than words alone.

  “Always,” Keldron replied, and then she was gone. He turned his attention back to the spiralling columns that were almost within touching distance.

  “Are you two finished?” Raoul said with a grin. “We still have to figure out a way to save ourselves from this mess.”

  “Patience was never one of your virtues.” Belyn replied, shaking his head despite the infectious grin on Raoul's face causing one on his own.

  “I prefer to think of it as 'There's no time like the present'. Now what are we going to do about that?”

  Keldron retrieved the focus stone he had used to sense his master, the spirits, and all manner of things since they had figured out the use of it. He closed his eyes, pushing through with his consciousness. What he saw astounded him. A force was holding the columns together similar to the focus that he had used to create a barrier of air. Bright blue ropes of focussed energy twisted the seawater until it touched the cloud. “This is not natural.” He announced to the two glowing forms beside him.

  “You don't say?” Raoul replied sarcastically.

  Keldron ignored the jibe. “The source of the focus is incredibly far off, but there is a source for sure. It is feeding the water, keeping it moving towards us. There is more. A different focus is doing the same thing to the clouds above. Wizards are working in tandem on this, and it looks like they were not selecting a random target. A pulse has just hit the columns this way.”

  “We see it,” Raoul replied, they are moving faster.” One of the glowing forms moved away for a moment. “The boats are being lowered.”

  “Good. The sooner they are away the sooner we can try something more drastic.” Keldron was already having ideas.

  “Like what?” Belyn asked.

  “Like attacking the towers of water about to swallow us, or perhaps the people behind them.”

  “Try contacting Obrett,” Belyn suggested, “perhaps he can shed some light on what is happening here.”

  Keldron sent his thoughts out through the focus, heading in the direction his master had come from. It seemed as if he had travelled over half a continent before he was shaken by something. Any lesser man would have collapsed in mind-numbing agony as being disturbed so, but Keldron was well versed in the ways of the mind and mentally shrugged it off. Raoul stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder. “What happened?”

  “You were searching too long, my friend. Any of us could have reached Obrett in that time. We have to face the fact that we are on our own for this one.”

  “I could have searched a little longer…”

  “No you could not have, my brother. Look behind you.”

  Keldron turned around. “What the..?” The towers of water were only half as far away as when he had started his focus, and now they could see the twisting columns moving visibly towards them. The water churned frothy white around the darkness of water mixed with black cloud, twisting in unnatural ropes, internal currents threatening to rip the columns apart.

  “It is as if a whirlpool had been turned inside out.” Curtis murmured. “All hands secure the decks! I want lines rigged everywhere. These things aren't gonna suck the Grotesque to a watery grave, not if I can help it!”

  The remaining sailors jumped to it, carrying out the orders of their captain with not even the whiff of fear amongst them. “That won't help us if we can't do something quickly.”

  Curtis turned to Raoul, who had spoken the words everybody knew, but was afraid to admit. “I know that, you know that.” He pointed at his scurrying crew. “They know that. The only thing keeping them from jumping ship and swimming like rats for the shore is the fact that we have three wizards on here who might be able to get us out of this situation, so I suggest that you keep trying.”

  “Okay, here is what we are going to do.” Belyn had evidently made up his mind and decided to take charge. “Raoul, you and Keldron create as grand a focus as you can manage, and try anything to divert those columns. Take one column each. I am going to try and move the ship closer to the shore.”

  “Are the boats far enough away that this will not affect them?” Keldron asked.

  Raoul looked off towards the shore where the boats were moments from landing. “They are safe. Worry more about us, brother.

  Keldron nodded and set his mind to the task. He picked his favourite stone, the focus stone first given to him as an apprentice. He knew every facet of the golden marble, every nick, every flaw within the rock. Pouring his concentration into it, he used more passion, more sheer guts than he had ever done before. The world became a different colour for him as he looked through his mind's eye, viewing the potential catastrophe before him as one who was not really there. The energy within the twin columns before him surged as another focus churned up two elements that were not really meant to mix. To one side he felt Raoul doing the same, and beyond that Belyn was concentrating on forcing the ship ahead of the current, with little success. “I think we can help you there, Belyn.” He said directly into the mind of his friend. “Raoul, you take the left column, but whatever you do, push against it as well.”

  He received a mental nod from his tall friend, and together they released the twin focuses against the might of enraged nature. Keldron pushed against the columns of water, and his focus dissipated along the lines of power used to contain the churning elements. He tried to fight the other focus, to break the bands of force, but he found that his efforts had no effect. “Try twisting the water the other way.” He called out, hoping that Raoul could hear him. If there was any acknowledgement, it was masked by the sheer immensity of the power being wielded by the three wizards.

  “We are moving,” Belyn announced, “slowly at first, but with your efforts a bit faster over time. It is doing no good though, the columns have moved even closer.”

  Keldron nodded, and ploughed into the other focus with his own, hoping to reverse the bands of power and destroy the water spouts. For a moment the churning water slowed, but as soon as it looked as though they had made a breakthrough, the water span around even faster, the counter-focus knocking both Keldron and Raoul off of their feet. Dazed for a moment, both men took a few breaths before they opened their eyes. What they saw astounded them. The waterspouts had moved alongside the ship, one either side. They looked up into the yawning maw of eternity twisted amongst coils of watery wrath. It was pitch black, for the cloud was so close to the surface of the sea that the darkness blotted out any possible light. In addition, rain had started to fall amidst forks of lightning that blasted from one spout to the other, almost concussing the sailors with each rapport. The surface of the sea nearly boiled with the currents created by the twin vortices, and the ship began to list heavily to one side.

  “HOLD TIGHT, LADS!” Curtis called to his men. “If one of those spouts touches my ship, we will all be drawn into a watery grave.” He said this to the wizards, with only his helmsman also in hearing distance. “Do something.”

  “Belyn, how fast ca
n we get this ship moving if we all try what you are doing?” Keldron called to his friend.

  “Doubt we can go much faster, but we can try.” Came the shouted answer above the roar of the twisted water churning up to the sky.

  “Raoul, join with us!” Keldron ordered, and the three wizards combined their efforts. Forcing the ship against the suction that threatened to pull the Grotesque under, they managed to break if not totally, then partially free of the watery death that awaited them. The ship forced itself ahead of the waterspouts, appearing to the people on shore as if it had been squeezed out ahead of them. On the ship, the sailor's cheered encouragement as the focus appeared to be working. The ship was moving steadier, and listing less. The shore seemed as close as the twisting towers of water behind them, but it was still at least a half a league too far away. They could see the rest of the crew and passengers gathered on the shore out of reach of the surging tide created by the focus.

  “It is working!” Raoul cheered as he looked up, but then something stirred up in the cloud hit him, and he lost his concentration. Raoul dropped like a stone, the plank of wood next to him obviously responsible for the welt on his forehead. The response was instantaneous. The speed of the ship dropped to nearly nothing with only two wizards focussing, and the twisters began to close once again.

  “We cannot maintain this, not between the two of us!” Belyn yelled across through the sheets of rain.

  “We have to!” Keldron roared back. “We have to save ourselves, we have to save Raoul!”

  “Not this way!” Belyn roared back, and Keldron felt his friend release the focus. Completely unsure of what Belyn was doing, Keldron poured his heart and soul into the focus to keep the ship ahead of the destructive force behind them. “What are you doing?” He yelled as loud as he could but Belyn had crouched down, seemingly lost to the world.

  All sound and exterior feeling was lost to Belyn as he drew within himself to concentrate on a focus that had been denied him for far too long. The rain and the wind was but a distraction for the living, and if he did not pull this off he was as good as dead anyway, so what harm could it do to try? He remembered all of the times he had moved inanimate objects from one place to another, and the feeling he had known as he performed the focus. He thought also of his conversations with his mentor, and the way they had travelled across country with their minds. Most of all, he remembered what it was like to move his casks of spiced Brandy from a place he knew well back to his own body. Those feelings combined were surely the source of what he intended to do now. “Intent is the paramount cause. Everything we do now serves our intentions, and the intentions of others.”

  “What?” Shouted Keldron. “Get the focus going, we may yet save this ship!”

  “Too late for that, my friend.” Belyn replied, and sank into the depths of his mind, searching for the key.

  And there it was, stretched out in front of him like a map. The fundamentals by which the world was governed, a law older and more basic than any that they had ever heard of, had ever dreamed about. As he swam within the depths of his own perceptions, he saw that which had been clouded until now. It had taken a situation where he faced his own death to find the answer. The whole world served a basic law of existence, with everything interconnected. From here he could move wherever he liked, touch the souls of infinite people should he have the will to do so. It would still take energy though, and a lot of effort, but Belyn knew that all he had to do was will it, and through his focus stone it would be so. He looked at the beings surrounding him on the ship, and considered the wrongness of the waterspouts. They were an affront to the basic law, and their violence was a direct result of the natural order of things trying to assert itself. He knew how it had been done now, could sense the focus that held the water in sync with the storm clouds, but was powerless to fight it. His intent had provided him with a window to a different world, but it seemed there was little more than that. What he could do he would, even should it cost him his life. At least Raoul and Keldron would be spared. Gathering his concentration, Belyn linked all of the beings aboard the ship, and cast his mind towards the shore where others waited. Linking the others to that point through himself, he sent them to the point he had chosen and his mind shrieked in pain. Too much! He was straining himself to the point of self-annihilation. He had gotten half of them to the shore, and felt as if he had but moments left. Belyn dug deeper, and found reserves he never knew that he possessed. Life around him discoloured as the manifestations of energy that were the spouts drew within touching distance of the ship. They screamed at him, hungry to swallow him and end their painful existence for that was surely what they wanted. He did not know, but he had dropped to his knees as he passed yet more of the sailors to the shore. Had he but looked, he would have seen his two friends stood on each side of his corporeal form supporting him, pale with fear in the rain that plastered their hair to their faces and stung their eyes almost to blindness. His stomach churned as the ship lurched, but he never knew. He stopped breathing as he concentrated so much on his task, and he never recognised the pain coming from the lack of fresh air in his lungs. It was so close, so very close. Hoping against hope that his friends were still battling the elements, he waited until the very last to send them on their way, and then he was alone. The ship was his sapling in the storm, and the storm closed in. The mountainous towers of water and lightning bent towards him gleefully, hoping to swallow their prey, but he had one last trick left. The vortices would claim no prey today. He thought he heard the sound of breaking wood as he forced himself along the same line that he had sent the others. The impression of land speeding by as he travelled through this nightmare was only relieved by the blackness that opened up to swallow him into dark, blissful eternity. His energy was spent. No longer would Raoul argue with him.

  Chapter Twenty

  “This way, quickly,” hurried the guard named Cameron, who had been assigned to Zya and Ju as guide and guardian by Duke Hester. The Duke was oblivious to the personal peril that he placed himself in, or he judged Zya's needs equal to or above his own.

  Zya clutched her stomach as another pulse was forced along the focus. Combined with the prescient feeling that one of the more worrying dreams was imminent reality, she was barely able to stand. “Are we near?” She spoke out of the back of her throat, a weak, whispery sound.

  “It is not far now, a hallway or two, ma'am,” Cameron replied as he scanned the walkways for any more mercenaries.

  Ju had his bow in hand and an arrow notched. “The sooner we get there the better.”

  Zya struggled to move, aided in part by the guard. “Whatever happens, let me try and deal with them first.”

  “Are you sure the ones that you seek are in there?” Cameron was still shaken from the events in the hall, betrayed by his trembling hands.

  “I am sure,” Ju and Zya replied simultaneously, their unconscious connection through the weapons still linking them together.

  As an afterthought, Ju added, “your Duke fights on, but is sorely pressed. I suggest we get this over with quickly that we can get back to the hall and aid him.” The feeling of the third weapon was still so new that its spell was magnified and they almost felt every parry and thrust used by the Duke.

  In reply, Cameron hushed them silently. “These are the quarters of the Duchess, and have been so ever since this city was built. Have respect for them, for the rooms are almost as precious as the title of 'Duke'.” Cameron had great respect for the history of the Duchy, and it shone from his face, a beacon of sincerity.

  “We will be careful,” Zya replied, “but let me go in first.”

  Cameron opened the door, which squealed in protest. “Sea air,” he said in disgust, implying that the salt in the air had corroded the hinges. “These rooms are unkempt.”

  “I doubt the late owner had much use for them,” Ju muttered.

  “Stone me!” Cameron exclaimed as the door opened wider, admitting them to the suite of rooms. They had
been stripped bare of any decoration, the cold stone all that graced them as they entered.

  “Sold it all, I bet,” Ju observed.

  A cold look had settled on Cameron's face. “I curse the day that woman ever set foot in this palace.”

  “It is the wizards that are within who require the cursing, Cameron,” Zya replied, her face calmer as inner resolve took over, “they are about to kill somebody a hundred leagues away and we have to stop them.”

  The three silent figures crossed the floor of what had once been the opulent personal abode of the Duchess to the suite of smaller chambers that faced out towards the sea. Both Zya and Ju could feel the pressure of imminent disaster. Things were about to get out of control.

  “They are in the room beyond this one,” she said quietly.

  “That is the balcony over what remains of the estate before the ocean,” Cameron replied without hesitation.

  “That is the best place to work a focus from.”

  They opened the door, a polished affair with none of the roughness associated with many of the heavy tarred doors belonging to this region. In fact it was the one thing in the entire room that would remind them of the softer nature of the Duchesses from the past. The next room was smaller, and the door to the room beyond was ajar. This room showed signs of recent use. Scraps of food covered a small table, and blankets were evidence that people had been sleeping rough. There was other evidence too, but Zya averted her eyes. It was to this room that she had been drawn, to save some unknown people from a dream. The path that she trod was a strange one indeed. They stayed close to the wall that hid them from the next room. If there was anyone watching then surprise needed to be as important an element to them as the power Zya could focus or the weapons that they bore.

  There was no sound from the balcony aside from the wind whistling in the early evening. Zya risked a glance out to sea, and was relieved to see nothing on the horizon to make any wizards change their spells. Zya pulled Ju back when it appeared he was going to step through, and it took the briefest of explanations to placate her angst. “No ships.”