by T J Marquis
“So you’re an angel,” Jon said. Should he kneel in Jeremiah’s presence? What would be appropriate? “Like… uh, Mr. Bear.”
Jeremiah laughed, voice booming. Jon blushed.
“Not an angel, no. I am less than that, less than your fluffy guide as well. He does have a true name, you know, though if he didn’t give it to you, neither shall I share it. I am simply a guardian. If I understand what I’ve read of your world, you could think of me as the international police.”
“All of them? Or just one?” Jon asked.
Jeremiah smiled knowingly.
“And perhaps a guide, for tonight. Come.”
Jeremiah put a massive hand on Jon’s shoulder and they dissolved together into an ethereal wind. The world blinked out into darkness, and back in, and they stood together on the platform at the mouth of the Maw, overlooking Enkann. It was deep night, and cool at this altitude. The dry air was clear, speckled with innumerable stars and graced by the big blue moon.
“This land you are crossing into has a long history. For thousands of years, I have watched its people strive for their ideals, at first innovating, working, but eventually slipping further and further into the mundane. They don’t even remember that every last person on this planet is a descendant of the first travelers!”
The guardian paused to let that fact solidify. He met Jon’s gaze. “Your wizard friend told you this world is particularly easy to travel to?” Jon nodded that Dahm had.
“So it was that many travelers came upon this world, ripe and ready for new life. In those early days of colonization, the people built a City.”
“Centrifuge,” Jon guessed.
“And beneath the City, a machine with a singular purpose. Now I’ve no wish to give you a history lesson, at least not today, but it’s important you know a few things, now that you’ve embraced your vision.
“The City itself was built according to a dream, for the Enkannites of those days listened closely to the voice of HAEL. It was to be a bastion of safety for all travelers, a fortified city to withstand the ravages of time. The Centrifuge machine itself, namesake of the City, was the product of special revelation to the world’s greatest minds, a shadow of greater things in higher realms.
“The City grew up around the machine, the Keep at its center, and men began to forget the shared vision that had driven them to build it in the first place. It was then that a peculiar technology brought a lone traveler to the planet - a ship that was able to cross between the planes of reality. I have only heard from my brethren where this man came from, but it is said he had traveled through many worlds, seeking blood to spill for some strange purpose. It is this dark man that the Nulians worship as god, for he rules them with brutality, and the promise of power and wealth.
“He’s the one driving their army? So he’s the one I’ll have to fight,” Jon said.
Jeremiah gave him a sharp look and crossed his burly arms. “A fair assumption, but do not be hasty. In all likelihood, the dark man is as old as I am - to him you are but a babe. Listen first, and learn. When he landed his dimensional fortress in the lands east of Enkann, the purpose of the Centrifuge was realized. His ability to travel was negated - he could not use his ship to leave this planet, as long as the machine functioned. I watched him as his ire and resentment turned to fury, so insulted was he that anything should hinder his own goals.”
“That’s why the City was sacked before,” Jon said, “Why they’re going to attack again.”
“It is all he cares about,” Jeremiah said. “And he’ll throw any number of Nulian lives away to destroy the Centrifuge. He has done so many times, and with each failure, his desperation grows.”
Jon covered his mouth with a hand, then said, “But that last attack, the one that crippled the City - he almost won.” Jeremiah nodded. “My vision makes sense, then. But why would the Light send me here to help? If you’re the guardian, you could just cut through the Nulian army, or kill their so-called god.”
Jeremiah sighed and strode to the end of the ledge. “My brethren and I have our function, and we are restrained from doing anything more, though we may often want to. Mortals are blessed in that you may shape your fate with choices both good and bad. For me, to overstep my bounds would be a terminal sin. I was only able to slay the Nulians in this place because, besides deserving it, they would have interfered with my meeting you.”
“Why not choose someone from this world then? Why another traveler?” Jon asked. What if Bahabe had been chosen for this power? She was brave, stout of heart. She had proved today that she had both the guts to fight, and the compassion to mourn violence.
A better person than me, Jon thought.
“Do you always learn so slowly, Jon?” the guardian scolded, and turned back to face him. “They were all travelers! But I understand your meaning.” He flung his arms out to indicate the world around them. “Have you seen what these people are concerned with? The Anekans want nothing to do with Enkann and Centrifuge. They’re seeking to move even further away, across the sea! You’ll know soon how the Enkannites live - even their wizardess and retainer is too consumed with basic survival to give ear to HAEL. No one hears, Jon! But you did, and you came, and you have not yet reneged.”
“You keep mentioning HAEL. Bahabe did too. Is it His power I have? Am I supposed to believe in Him, worship Him?” Jon asked. It had been a long time since he’d considered religion.
Jeremiah waved his hand toward the sky. “I do, but belief is a peculiar thing. I can give you the seed, and maybe I or someone else could water it, but HAEL Himself makes it grow. As for the power, well, it’s in you isn’t it? You know that much is real. You will do with it as you will.” Jeremiah turned away again, gazing in the direction of Centrifuge. “People play stringed instruments in your homeworld, yes?”
Jon said that they did.
“And some children, when first given their bow or plectrum, are quick to learn, as if the knowledge had already made a home within them. When they use that talent, does its creator, the one who weaved it into that child’s being, become less involved if the child is ignorant of the talent’s source?”
Jeremiah did not ask to confirm that Jon understood.
They were quiet for a long minute. Jon joined the guardian at the edge of the precipice, gazing at the night-shrouded world. He marveled continually at how still the land was, how clear the air. Visibility seemed to be infinite. Was that the glow of a city to the southeast? No telling how far away it was.
Jeremiah saw where he was looking.
“That’s the Nulian army,” he said. “You must have good eyes if you can see it from here. They are too great a flood to be stemmed by Enkann anymore. It’s taken ages to wear the City down to this point, and that is why you’ve been given such great power, and the chance to use it.”
“I want to keep helping,” Jon said. He did, it felt good. The power, the fight itself was exhilarating. Amid the pangs of guilt over killing ran a current of pleasure - the joy of control. The satisfaction of administering justice. He still hadn’t decided how much was good, and how much bad.
“But when I push myself, my body gives out,” Jon continued. “What happens if I start a fight I can’t finish? Everyone around me will die.”
Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. “Don’t be so dismissive of those around you. And don’t try to take everything on by yourself! Your friend Dahm has deep reserves of talent you’ve not yet seen, and Bahabe has yet to realize even a fraction of her potential. Yes, if you were to lose yourself in the power again, you may tire and fade, and the battle might be lost, but not everyone would perish, for this world must go on. What you need to do is learn, keep practicing, put to work your faith in the Light, and your diligence in learning its way in you.”
Jeremiah tapped Jon’s chest with a large, firm finger.
“Think a moment,” he said. “Why might using the power you have exhaust your body?”
Jon had in fact thought about it a lot. “The
ability to do whatever I can imagine comes from the Light itself,” he said. Jeremiah hummed an ‘mmhmm’. “But the energy comes out of my body. So even though it’s heavily amplified, I still get worn down.”
“Close,” Jeremiah said. “Why do you assume the energy has to come from you?”
Something clicked into place immediately, a key sliding into a lock.
Jon looked down at the shelf of stone beneath their feet. Could he use the innate energy of the world around him to feed the Light? What would that do, though?
“You won’t know ‘til you try,” Jeremiah said as if reading his thoughts. He very well might be…
Jon’s eyes searched the dark slopes around them. There, a man-sized boulder, laying at a crooked angle after some earlier rockslide. Lifting objects telekinetically had proved challenging before, it would be worth a try.
Jon’s preconceptions of magic dictated that he should lift his hand to try to move the boulder. He thought he heard Jeremiah chuckle softly.
He felt it now, his will drawing life from his nerves, blood and bones, tugging at the edges of his consciousness. Knowing this was possible, that he might be able to borrow from the earth to use his power, helped his focus.
Point that will at the earth, make the connection, he thought.
If he brute-forced the boulder, it might pop like the seashells all those weeks ago, or worse.
Use finesse.
Calming himself, he felt the pull on his body lessen and fade. His stance grew heavy, like something was pulling or pushing him tighter to the earth. He took the moment by the horns, directing that force into the distant boulder, which rocked forward a few degrees in response. Jon pushed again, and the big rock reluctantly began to slide forward. In sudden excitement Jon gave it one last nudge, and the boulder rotated just enough to begin rolling, gaining speed as gravity took it down the mountain slope. He looked guiltily back toward the Maw, as if the commotion might be waking his companions.
Jon stayed still, quiet, waiting for the familiar feeling of enervation. It didn’t come.
“Look down,” Jeremiah said.
Jon looked, and saw that he now stood in a shallow crater. The mass of the stone beneath him had simply disappeared. Had he channeled it up through his feet?
“Maybe you are a swift learner after all,” the guardian said, smiling. “Though you’ve a long way to go yet.”
Jon bent down, needing to feel the effects of his experimentation. The stone was hot. He wondered what kind of reaction had just taken place.
“Well Jon, I’d hoped we’d be so productive tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to take a pupil.”
“How much of this did you know was going to happen?” Jon asked. He was still trying to understand where the line between choice and destiny lay.
Jeremiah smiled. “Some,” he said. “I see far, but free will clouds the horizon. We’ll talk again, I’m sure. I hope I’ve been a help to you.”
Without a further word, the guardian slipped away into the wind.
Chapter 12
Assassin
Jon stood there for a long time, thinking. The freedom of new knowledge stirred in him, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go back to sleep. He watched the glow of the Nulian encampment in the distance, wondering. What if he could end this right now?
Would assassinating an officer or general be enough? Would he have to kill every single one of them?
Maybe I’ll just scout it out, he thought.
Jon stepped off the end of the ledge and took flight. He swung low and reached the outskirts of the sprawling encampment within the hour. It was closer than he’d thought. He landed on the shadowed side of a hill and crept up to its crown, cat-like.
The Nulian camp was lit with the torches and lamps of late-night revelry. Jon heard spikes of raucous laughter echo between the hills every few moments. Like a city’s roughest neighborhood, there were occasional gunshots, screaming and shouts.
An attack now would catch them almost completely unaware, but could he take this many? Likely not. He’d have to come down on them like a bomb.
The center of the camp looked less unruly, and Jon saw that the three barges the Nulians had recovered were parked there, near a little town’s worth of command tents. Malok was down there somewhere.
Near the command encampment was a long, makeshift pen with a canopy as large as a circus. That must be where the dragon was, but it was dark and quiet. Dragons - Jon could hardly process it. He could see its stolid ogre guardsmen, at attention, not even conversing. Would the beast awaken if Jon attacked the officers? Could he handle it if it did?
There were too many variables, Jon decided. Even scouting the camp may have been a bad idea. Jon turned back toward the mountains.
A shadow filled his vision - a large humanoid form with skin and clothes that blended into the night. It wielded a pair of daggers like tanto. A split second passed, Jon waiting for the strike to fall, but it didn’t.
Jon flinched anyway and stepped back.
The dark creature’s face twisted in a snarl. The only thing moving was its glaring eyes. It was paralyzed. Jon looked closer. It had a human face.
“Jon,” a deep voice scolded. “Did we not just agree that you wouldn’t try to do things on your own?”
Jeremiah materialized next to the big black form, and Jon saw that his iron hand was clamped on the dark creature’s shoulder, restraining it.
Jon shrank. The guardian was right. No sooner had he seen the slightest improvement in his ability than he had tried to fight on his own again. He felt the urge to apologize, but he knew it would cement his foolishness.
“Now this Assassin has seen you,” said Jeremiah. “It will not forget your face. It would have been wiser not to reveal yourself yet. Sometime in the future, you tell me if it was worth getting a look at the Nulian camp.”
Jeremiah shook his head like a disappointed teacher.
“I’ve saved you this time. I caution you not to test my limits. Go back to your camp, Jon. Be wiser tomorrow.”
“Don’t leave yet, Jon,” came another voice. Small, calm, familiar.
Jon turned. Mr. Bear was there behind him, still smiling.
Jeremiah greeted him in a language Jon found unfathomable, and the bear nodded hello.
“Thank you for that, brother,” said the bear to Jeremiah. “I feared to make it in time, but you’ve always been so punctual.”
“How did you know I would come here?” asked Jon.
“Pshh,” the bear waved a paw at him dismissively. “When you know something, you know. No sense questioning it. Did you say thanks?”
Jon glanced back at the guardian. “Um, thanks.”
Jeremiah smiled and nodded. Without a flourish, he dissolved into the wind, taking the dark creature with him.
“Come,” said Mr. Bear. “Let’s walk back.”
He started down the shadowed hillside, and Jon followed, every bit as dumbfounded as the last time he’d seen the bear.
“Are you out of your element, or in it?” asked the bear.
They were walking side by side under starlight. The hills northwest of the Nulian camp had let down into a wide-open valley.
He waited for Jon to decide.
“Both, I suppose,” Jon said at last.
The bear laughed.
“That’s the kind of answer I like. Fraught with philosophy. Can I try to answer for you though?”
Jon found no words, but the bear answered anyway.
“I think you’re more in than out,” he said. “You’ve already made a splash, made friends, saved lives. Help with the guilt much?”
“Not really,” Jon said.
“Good sign,” said Mr. Bear. “It shouldn’t. You can’t just dig your way out of a hole, right?”
“I guess not. But you said -”
“I told you there’s forgiveness. That’s not something you work for, even if the things you do might help you find it - they don’t prov
ide it. Only God can do that.”
“Is this why you came tonight? To tell me not to try so hard?” Jon asked.
“Is that what I said?” his look shrank Jon yet more. How did he do that, with such a simple face?
“No, Jon, I really just came to say hi. Sure, I can see you from afar,” the bear looked up at the bright stars, and Jon imagined the green-gold planes opening up to them again, “but I wanted to see you in the flesh.”
“Are you a guardian too?”
“What did Jeremiah say?”
“Right. He said you’re more than him,” Jon answered.
“Well that was generous of him,” Mr. Bear chuckled. He kicked at a pebble with a stubby foot. “I suppose it’s true, if you’re thinking mostly in terms of power or ability. He would. I’d say it’s more that we have different jobs.”
“He called himself the international police,” Jon said.
“Okay. Fair enough. In your world’s terms, I guess that would make me… a United Nations task force? No. Ah, a nuclear deterrent? Hmm. An orbital bombardment?”
“What?”
“Oh, true, you don’t have those yet,” said the bear. “It’s conceited of me anyway, though, isn’t it? To say so? Or is it just that I’m trying to enlighten you a little, since you’ve asked? Or maybe, I’m something else entirely and I just can’t tell you, or don’t want to.”
“Do you always talk this way?” Jon said.
“Do you?”
There was a beat, and they both laughed.
“You know that was stupid, what you did tonight, don’t you Jon?” the bear asked, his tone level.
“Yeah. If it weren’t for you guys… That thing would have killed me.”
“Oh it wanted to, didn’t it? You might have bit a chunk out of its hide though, so don’t sell yourself short. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t stupid. You have a ways to go before you can take on an army by yourself, let alone something like the Assassin.”
“Wait. You’re saying the army was the lesser threat?” Jon stopped in his tracks, chilled.
“Well, think of it this way,” said Mr. Bear. “At what point did not one, but two high-powered beings show up to make sure you stayed alive?”