“See there!? You were light as a feather until you let out that yell,” I observed intelligently. I could see understanding dawning on their faces, and I smiled inwardly. This will be the greatest silent game ever, I thought to myself.
Soon enough I had spelled each of them so that they were able to bounce about the room lightly, almost floating, as if they were no heavier than soap bubbles. At first I watched them closely, making them heavier if they spoke or got noisy before returning them to their near weightless state if they stayed silent for a while. Needless to say, my plan worked brilliantly, and soon they were all entirely quiet as they smiled and pushed off from floors and walls, flying effortlessly from one side of the room to the other.
Irene was giggling in my arms as she watched her siblings and Gram cartwheeling through the air. Since she seemed happy enough, I set her in her cradle to watch them, while I sat down in Penny’s rocking chair. I had forgotten how comfortable it could be, with its padded arms and seat.
At some point, before I realized it, I fell asleep. Dealing with young children took a bit of energy, and it was quite pleasant to doze as they played around me in the nursery. I had already warned them not to leave the room, and there seemed to be little harm they could do in their near weightless state. With my chin on my chest, I dozed and dreamt of sunny days and simpler times.
“What in the world!?” Penelope exclaimed loudly, startling me awake. My heart was racing at her sudden cry, and my eyes fought to focus on her as she stood in the doorway. A surge of adrenaline shot through me, and I saw her eyes focusing above me, where Matthew and Moira were sailing over my head, holding little Irene between them.
“Momma!” cried Moira excitedly, and then she lost her grip on her younger sister, causing Matthew and Irene to tumble awkwardly while Moira sailed off in another direction. Irene still had her full weight, and though her brother struggled gallantly he lost his grip on her as well.
Looking upward in shock and surprise, I caught my giggling infant daughter as she fell. It was a catch born of pure reflex and parental good fortune, for I was utterly unprepared. My face was a study in bewilderment as I met Penny’s gaze. “I can explain,” I stuttered out immediately.
As it turned out, my explanation was rather unimpressive, or at least that was my impression based upon Penny’s disapproving stare. It didn’t help that the children were still bounding up and down around us while we talked. With a wave of my hand, I canceled the spell on them.
A unanimous cry of, “Awwww,” went up around the room.
“Go play outside,” Penny told them, ignoring their dispirited tones, “and take Conall with you.” We watched them troop out of the room, and after they had closed the door she looked back at me. “I can’t believe you.”
“I didn’t intend to fall asleep…,” I began, but she interrupted me almost immediately.
“This isn’t about that Mort. We’re both human. How many near misses do you think I’ve had? I’m not immune to fatigue either. This is about your promise not to use magic on the children,” she explained.
“I don’t think that this really counts. I just reduced their mass so they could bounce about,” I responded with some relief. I had actually thought she’d be more upset about our falling daughter.
She stared agape at me. “Doesn’t count? Were you dropped on your head as a child… like our daughter nearly was? Our children were flying about the room like butterflies! How is that not using magic on them?”
Obviously it was too soon to count on her overlooking the falling child portion of the incident. I decided to forge on. “When we discussed the topic of magic, we agreed that we wouldn’t expose them to any potentially harmful magic,” I countered, “This wasn’t harmful, with the possible exception of them dropping Irene after I fell asleep.”
“How do you know? Does anyone know? No one has the faintest clue what sort of lingering effects magic may have. That is why we agreed that you wouldn’t use any magic upon the children, at least until they are adults,” her voice sounded somewhat exasperated.
Even so, that wasn’t how I remembered our past conversation. “Hold on, Penny, before you get too far into that. We agreed that we wouldn’t expose the children to any harmful magic, not shelter them from all magic. Do you really think I would do something that was intrinsically harmful to them?”
“You don’t always know what will be harmful and what won’t!”
My nap had put me in the mood for a debate. “Give me an example,” I retorted.
“Remember the rocks you used to ‘incapacitate’ the men that ambushed us on the road?” she shot back immediately.
I flinched at the memory, and I could see a flicker of guilt in her own eyes as she mentioned it. Years ago I had created a spell to send small rocks flying unerringly at the heads of enemies. My intention had been to knock them senseless, but the reality had turned out differently. My stones had struck with enough force to shatter their skulls. I had continued to use the spell after that, but only when my intention was to use lethal force. That first mistake was but one of several that still haunted me. “That wasn’t fair, Penny,” I warned.
“Fair can go hang! This is about our children, Mort. One mistake and we could be ex-parents. How ‘fair’ would that be?” she said heatedly before countering, “Name one use of magic that you think is completely harmless.”
“Healing,” I said immediately.
“Marcus,” she replied with one word.
I had long ago shared with her the effect of Millicenth’s choosing Marcus to be her avatar, though I still hadn’t told her about the more recent news… that it might be fatal. Somehow I didn’t think that would help my argument. “His addiction resulted from the abuse of the goddess, not merely the act of healing,” I replied.
The conversation devolved from there, and eventually we were forced to call a truce, a truce that hinged upon my agreeing to refrain from any further magic involving our offspring. I agreed reluctantly, but I was still sore on the topic when we went to bed that evening.
That might have been the reason it took me several hours to fall asleep. Either that, or I had had too much of a nap earlier. No matter the cause, I tossed and turned for hours before finally drifting off into a troubled slumber. My dreams did nothing to improve the situation.
***
I sat astride a massive charger while staring across a sullen and brooding landscape. The sky was dark and heavy with clouds that appeared on the verge of producing rain, though none fell. A brisk wind whipped my face while I watched the sky grow ever darker. As I watched, the thunderheads grew and covered the sky completely, leaving the land in a darkness illuminated only by the glow of the clouds themselves, punctuated by occasional flashes of lightning.
It never occurred to me to wonder where I was, somehow I knew. This was the borderlands, the space between the world and elsewhere. The interface between the realm of men and the rest of… whatever else there was. Even in dreams I was unsure of what else might exist out there.
What was truly unusual was the weather. This place was normally one devoid of anything beyond bare rock and relentless wind. Thunder and lightning, much less clouds, were unusual and unwanted intruders here. Something is happening, I thought, worlds are about to collide.
The weather was a harbinger of something ominous. That I could feel, right down to my bones, and the electric tension in the air made even the roots of my teeth ache. I watched and waited, for I could think of nothing else to do. There was no course of action available to me here. I could only observe… and wait.
After what seemed an interminable wait, I felt, as much as saw, the sky crack. It was preceded by a darkening of the already black sky, followed by a thunderous flash of light, and a roaring noise that reminded me of thunder while being completely unlike it. It was the sound of reality being torn forcibly apart. In the wake of that terrible sound and the light that accompanied it, I sensed three incredible beings passing through. They were creat
ures of such power and magnitude, that I could not help but be left in speechless wonder and awe.
Deep within, my primal instincts urged me to dismount, to genuflect, or even lie face down, so great were the powers I sensed. These were gods, and while they were probably not even aware of my presence in the distance, my primitive hindbrain still yammered at me in mindless fear. I ignored it, and after a moment my stubborn nature and more rational forebrain silenced the raw emotion.
As my reasoning faculties began functioning again, I paid closer attention to the information my senses were bringing to me. A rift had been torn in the world, and three beings of enormous power had passed through, but they had not lingered. In fact, they had moved with a haste that left me wondering. The rift stayed open behind them, though it should have closed already. Such things were unnatural and could not sustain themselves, once the power that created them was withdrawn.
A cold sensation passed over me, while simultaneously the air grew still, as the endless ravening wind of the borderland came completely to a stop. In that pregnant pause, the light pouring from the rift died away as something dark occluded the opening, something ominous. A dark power issued through the tear in reality, and as it emerged, I could feel sweat standing out on my skin. This was a force far beyond the powers that had so recently passed, and while they were bright and indifferent, this power was undoubtedly malignant.
While I stared, I saw the dark mass turn, and somehow I could sense it was shifting itself to face me. An enormous eye appeared and I felt tiny in its gaze… fear shot through me as I realized it could see me. It was aware. Mal’goroth!
Sitting up in my bed I found myself cold and panting, as though I had run a hard mile and then been doused with cool water. My dream was still clear in my mind, and worse, I was certain that it was far more than just a night terror. My ears caught the sound of labored breathing, and I realized that Penny was twisting in the bed beside me. Her body curled and fought with the sheets she had wrapped around herself. That explains why I’m cold.
The thought barely registered though, I was more concerned with my wife. Her eyes had opened and she was staring rigidly at the ceiling, as though whatever her gaze had fixed upon left her paralyzed with fear. “Wake up,” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.
Worried, I began to shake her, hoping I could snap her out of the dream, when something that had never happened before occurred. Her eyes fixed upon me, focusing, and then her lips moved, “Don’t.”
“Are you awake?” I asked. Her voice sounded odd.
“No, but I will be if you keep shaking. You mustn’t do that Mort. Let me finish talking to her,” as she finished that statement her eyes closed.
“Talking to whom?”
“To the Penelope of the present,” she answered softly.
Well that reply left me dumbfounded. I had thought I was talking to the Penelope of the present, whatever that meant. Her body had grown still and calm, so I felt better at least. Until her lips began moving, while she mumbled softly to herself, never quite clearly enough for me to understand. Penny had had a number of important visions over the years, and quite a few minor ones, but they had never been like this. In most cases she went limp, still, or appeared to pass out. Once or twice she had begun shaking, but tonight she seemed to be holding an internal dialogue while being not quite truly asleep.
“I really hope you aren’t going to start giving cryptic messages when you wake up. I’ve had just about enough of those for one lifetime, thank you very much,” I said, without much hope of being heard. It was doubtful that her conversation partner cared much for my opinion anyway.
She looked at me again, “That isn’t always easy. Sometimes you think simple statements like, ‘help the twins change their clothes,’ are cryptic. How should I know what you’ll understand and what you won’t?”
I stared at her uncertainly, “Am I addressing Penny of the present or ‘Penny the unknown’?”
She frowned, “What makes you say that? Were you watching my vision?”
“No, you told me to stop bothering you, and when I asked who you were talking to, you told me ‘Penny of the present’,” I informed her. “I got the distinct impression that you weren’t quite yourself.”
The expression on her face spoke volumes. Unfortunately, much like her previous mumbling I had not a hope of understanding what it was saying. Finally she spoke aloud, to put an end to my confusion, “You aren’t going to like this, but I’ve had another vision, and this one is unlike any of the others I have had so far.”
“Uh huh,” I nodded sagely.
“I saw a portent of dark times to come. The gods walk the earth directly, and we are all in danger…,” she began.
“I already knew that part,” I said interrupting, “I had my own dream.”
Penny gave me a waspish look. She rarely liked being interrupted. “Fine, then I can move on to the important part. I met myself and I’ve been given a message for you, as well as a choice.”
“Penelope Cooper, I swear on my father’s grave, if you give me some weird and unintelligible message, like, ‘Beware the man that casts no shadow, for he fears the wind,’ it will be the last thing you do,” I told her gravely.
She shook her head, which made her already loose bun fall apart. Brown hair fell about her in untidy curls. “No, there’s nothing mysterious about this one… if you’ll just let me finish, and my name is Penelope Illeniel, if you recall. We’re married.”
“Not if you don’t tell me the full truth,” I said a bit petulantly. “Seven years ago you left me thinking you were dead, and it nearly killed me. I don’t care what your prophetic powers warned you about; you’d best tell me all of it this time.”
Penny’s eyes crinkled a bit, full of sympathy. “I will. There’s nothing hidden, at least nothing in the present. I can tell you everything that I know.”
Before she could continue I put in, “What do you mean, the present?”
“If you’ll shut up, I will tell you!” she snapped back.
I was already riled, up but I paused for a moment, and after giving it some thought, I decided she had a point. I closed my mouth without further comment and waved my hands indicating she could continue.
After a moment she did, “I’ll start at the beginning. Like you, I saw the gods tear a hole in the fabric of the world allowing them to cross over completely, but unlike when Celior crossed, this time they were able to manage the crossing without any aid from our side.”
I bit my lip. It was plain that her vision had included a lot more detail than mine, but I didn’t dare ask questions yet. I made a mental note to bring it up when she was finished. It shouldn’t be possible for them to cross without the aid of someone of power on this side.
“All three of the remaining Shining Gods have entered our world, and they were followed by Mal’goroth. The meaning of that I am unsure of, but I’m certain that it can’t be good,” she told me.
I nodded, doing my best to let her finish. I’ve been waiting for their retribution for seven years, since the day I imprisoned their brother, I noted mentally, but I always hoped it would be one at a time… not like this!
Penny took a deep breath, “This is the part you may not like.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know much else, my vision was interrupted by someone, and I was given a choice: knowledge without the ability to affect the outcome, or ignorance with the hope of protecting those I love.” She stopped after that, waiting for my reaction.
I had a better handle on myself by then, and I answered in a more controlled fashion. “First, I’d like to know more precisely who you were talking with.”
“Myself,” she replied. “I spoke with a future version of myself, one that had seen the vision I was about to see.”
“I thought she seemed familiar,” I muttered. “So, why would you interrupt your own vision?”
“It was my only remaining choice. Things hadn’t gone well for that othe
r me. She was somehow able to warn me, to start over. For some reason, ignorance may offer more hope than knowledge,” she answered.
I could sense the hesitation in her voice. “Does this mean our actions will alter her future? Or is she from a different future?” My head was whirling with possibilities.
Penny put her hand on my chin. “Pay attention. Don’t let that big brain of yours lead you astray. The important thing is that she gave us a chance to make better choices. According to what she told me, we have at least a week or more, and if I had accepted the full knowledge the vision would have laid before me, my choices would have been fixed, and we would most certainly have lost some, or maybe all of our children.”
“What!?” I said, with some alarm. Apparently my safeguards weren’t sufficient, which despite the situation was a surprise. I had spent a considerable amount of time planning contingencies. Any man fearing the gods might seek vengeance through his family would do likewise… if he had the resources at my disposal.
Penny’s hand on my arm stilled me for a moment. “That won’t happen, Mort. I chose a different path. Taking my other-self’s advice, I was able to end the vision and deny myself that knowledge. My choice now is simply to prepare, with you, for what we know must be coming.”
I shook my head in bewilderment. “What can you do Penny? Not that I ever liked your visions, but knowledge was your only advantage.” I stopped myself before adding, ‘you’re helpless’.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said suddenly, “and you know there are other options. Give me power Mort. Let me protect our children.” Her eyes were emphatic as they bored into my own.
“You know better than that. I’ll never remake that bond, Penny,” I said flatly.
Mageborn: Book 04 - The God-Stone War Page 13