Polychrome

by Ryk E. Spoor

  But I wouldn’t die a success, and the problem wouldn’t be solved, so I hoped that dying wasn’t in the cards for a while yet. The warning of danger and that sharp, perilous smile Polychrome had flashed me added an edge of excitement that was almost too much to bear. Part of me had wanted to hear that there was danger, even though I was very far indeed from being ready to face anything. It was a little galling to recognize that I’d have to depend on Polychrome to defend me, though.

  I knew my eyes weren’t nearly as good as Poly’s, but having had good reason to learn to sense movement and oddities in a background — both as an amateur astronomer and as one who had, in his past, been frequently bullied — I was pretty good at noticing things that might pass others by, at least when I was paying attention. I was paying attention now, and a tiny flicker of motion caught my eye.

  “Poly –”

  A single glance in that direction and her face hardened, suddenly more Valkyrie than fairy. “Yes. We run now, Erik. Do not let go, do not falter.”

  The dark shape was terribly small in the distance, yet somehow it had the same eerie implication of deadly power of a tornado; in the sunlight I could see the same green-black color that was unmistakable to anyone who’d ever seen such clouds.

  But there was no time to look back, because Polychrome was pulling me along, forcing me to run, run as I hadn’t in years. I had mastered long walks, gained some endurance that way, but effort-triggered asthma was not something that encouraged distance running.

  I ran, though, holding Polychrome’s hand as her power helped turn my heavy mortal steps to inhuman bounds, clearing a hundred yards, two hundred at a step, sprinting at a speed to rival a jet, yet leaving hardly a wake behind us. It was a terrifying but exhilarating experience, and in some ways I wished it could go on forever.

  But my lungs were not cooperating. The air was not nearly as cold around Polychrome as it should have been, nor so thin, but my air passages were closing themselves off. I heard the thin, shrieking whistle in my chest, felt the pressure. My ribs began to ache and I stumbled, almost falling, forced myself to continue, but now my thighs and calves were beginning to protest, pain of fatigue starting to radiate through them, stiffening my legs and throwing my stride off. “P--Poly…” I gasped, but my voice was a thin whisper and the wind of our passage tore the word away, cast it backwards.

  Then I staggered again, tripped, reflexively reaching out. But Poly had already begun the next leap, and as she did, the rainbow glory that surrounded her passed out from beneath me.

  A shockwave of deadly cold washed over my body and my ears screamed and popped as pressure equalized, explosive decompression at 35,000 feet. For a moment, even the strangled ache in my chest was forgotten in the ice-bladed agony.

  And then I had something even worse to worry about, as I plummeted like a stone. Ice crystals tore like microscopic claws of miniature demons over my face, and I screwed my eyes shut to keep the wind from possibly freezing my eyeballs solid. 35,000 feet…terminal velocity maybe 120mph…reached that or close to it by now…about seven miles…I’ve got three, three and a half minutes before I hit. Ouch.

  An apocalyptic blue-white flash and a BOOM like the shattering of a mountain let me know that I might have a lot less than that. Or more, if I got into an updraft. I was buffeted by turbulent winds and freezing rain soaked me. I was wheezing and shivering and the only reason I wasn’t screaming is that I couldn’t spare the breath.

  I’ve still got my inhaler on me. Got to wait until it’s warmer, though…can’t suck this stuff in deep…too cold. I might be dead a couple minutes later, but if anyone could save me, I sure didn’t want to suffocate to death afterwards.

  A blast of warmer air, a splatter of rain that was probably still cold, but felt like a warm shower after that last bit. It was pitch black…but no, wait, something light…which direction? I’m going towards it, so it’s down. Oh boy, get ready…

  The grey-black mist thinned, lightened, and suddenly I burst out into clear air, the thunderhead still rumbling above me, wrinkled carpet of the earth below. Already I was very far from home, I could tell; none of the geography looked familiar, and I’d done quite a number of airplane flights over the years. A minute or so left…

  I pulled out the inhaler, took a shot. It was a feeble first try, but the tightness began to loosen. I waited a few seconds, spreading myself as wide as possible on the winds… Not that this will help much… even if I hit water from this altitude it’ll splatter me like concrete, even if I slow myself to a mere 90 miles per hour or so… Another puff on the inhaler, and that — plus all the adrenalin from the fall — seemed to finally force my lungs to give up on the suicide attempt. I felt air rushing back into me, my brain clearing, as the details of the ground began to resolve, showing that I had only a few thousand more feet to go…

  And then I saw a spark of rainbow light above me, dropping from the cloud like a diving hawk. It plummeted towards me, closing the distance… but I was still falling. I glanced down, saw the Earth rushing closer with terrifying speed, looked up, and I could see Polychrome now, a look of grim determination on the beautiful face, drawing nearer, nearer, reaching out…

  And our hands touched.

  Instantly I stopped, enveloped by warm air and standing on rainbow glory. I looked down.

  Polychrome had caught me with about two hundred feet left to go.

  I looked at her, trying to smile, while my legs shook from the reaction to near-death, seeing her own pale face mirroring my own. “Cut it…a…a little fine there, didn’t you?”

  For a minute I thought she was going to slap me, but suddenly she giggled. “You…don’t you ever do that again!”

  “Believe me, I didn’t plan on it. But I can’t keep running like that for long; I stop breathing.” I was glancing around now, looking for a speck the color of gangrene and storm.

  She looked concerned. “Are you--”

  “All right…for now. But what about our pursuers?”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “Your…unexpected maneuver, Erik, probably surprised them more even than it did me. And I did not use my power to pursue at first, merely dropped, so they had not a trace to follow. I hope -- I hope that we have lost them, at least for now. Can you walk, at least?”

  “I can. Maybe even jog a bit.”

  She watched me with concern, but led us upward, away, back into the sky. By the time we reached the heights again, the stormclouds were gone, and fluffy cumulus floated in every direction. “Well,” I said finally, “against that background I think I could see one of those things a long way away.”

  “And I could see them even farther, and there are none to be seen.” She gave the first real, relaxed smile she’d given for hours, and that ethereal music rolled out again.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “I keep hearing music.”

  She laughed, and that helped loosen the tightness remaining in my chest and body, just hearing her laugh again. “The Music of the Spheres! It follows all the Faerie in one way or another. ’Tis the song of the world we inhabit, the spirits and powers that are associated with all Faerie and, perhaps, those above us as well.”

  “Above you?”

  We landed atop another cloud and saw more stretching before us, a curious formation of one cloud higher than another, almost like steps. “Something had to lay the foundations of the world, chart the direction of the winds, place the stars in their courses. Some even say my Father is descended of these. He might be. I have never asked. But call them the Great Spirits, the Powers, the Gods, what you will, I do not doubt they exist.”

  I chewed on that as we hopped from one cloud to the next. I suppose that wasn’t the sort of thing Baum would even want to have touched with a forty-foot pole, especially not in the early Twentieth Century. It did give a deeper level to what was happening, and I wondered how these…gods…might be, or get, involved in the current events.

  Wind buoyed u
s up, the Spheres sang, and we rose higher and higher. And finally, leaping once more to another cloud through a level of even higher mists, I beheld…

  “The Fortress of Rainbow.” Polychrome spoke with dramatic flair and a deep pride as she gestured upward.

  The clouds here were steps, there was no more mistaking it, as they became more and more immense oblong risers, great stairs a hundred feet high and just as broad, reaching to a Brobdingnagian edifice that made the words fortress or castle utterly inadequate — a mighty palace with invulnerable walls of polished grey-crystal stormcloud, tumbled rose-quartz mists made solid rising as pinnacles, azure crenellations defining the tops of amethyst keep towers within, bridges of gossamer-white fog joining each to the next, and a shimmering aura of all colors shining out from behind it.

  I stared at it for many minutes, speechless as we rose higher and came closer to the Fortress of Rainbow. “If you live here, Lady Polychrome,” I said finally, “I can only say that you did our poor mortal city far too much honor, for nothing save your own beauty have I ever seen to compare to that.”

  Was it my imagination, or did she actually blush for an instant? “You are far too kind, but I am sure my father will be pleased to hear your words.”

  I am going to meet the Lord of the Rainbow. I’m really going to meet the Lord of the Rainbow. I can’t believe I’m even thinking that. “And when will I have the pleasure of saying these words to him myself?”

  We stepped down on what felt and looked like polished marble, and the great golden gates swung wide. “In a few minutes only, Erik. I am to bring you before him at the very moment I arrive, and even now I see a runner going before us, telling Father that I am coming.”

  I wasn’t sure I was quite ready for this. I didn’t even know what to expect from this meeting. I was damn sure I wasn’t what he was going to be expecting.

  I tried to not look like I was gawking as I was led through the streets towards the Palace that lay ahead. The last thing I needed was to be overawed. I managed to achieve this, but only by doing something which — in retrospect — might have been more dangerous: looking almost entirely at Polychrome. And once more her beauty captured me so completely that I really, truly did not notice most of what we passed, did not become aware that we had entered the castle until a great thunderous clang echoed through my consciousness and I looked up, to see two massive portals swinging open before us.

  “My Father!” Polychrome called eagerly. “I have returned!”

  Seated at the far end of a pillared hall so immense that I was sure I could have flown the Goodyear Blimp down it without touching the pillars on either side, looking down from a throne that must itself have been twenty feet high, was the Lord of Rainbows. In the violet-stormy eyes and in something of the set of the jaw I could see that Polychrome was his true daughter, but the heroic frame, muscled like a Greek Titan, the iridescent armor, the white hair falling around a face chiseled and resolute and with a single scar across one cheek, these were entirely unlike the Daughter of the Rainbow. I knew I was looking at not merely a King, but some being of vast and dangerous power; I could feel it crackling in the air around us.

  He rose and bowed. “Indeed you have, Polychrome, first of Daughters. And…this…is the Hero?”

  She laughed. “So it must be, for every prophecy to now he has fulfilled.”

  He looked grave and — no surprise — doubtful. But he bowed again to me, and said, “Then I give you welcome. Iris Mirabilis, Lord of the Rainbow, Master of the Seven Hues, greets you.”

  I gave my own best bow. “I thank you for the welcome, Lord. I, Erik Medon, mortal man and little else, greet you.”

  A slight smile acknowledged my own lack of titles. “It is well. Daughter, leave us.”

  “But –”

  He gave her a stern look, and Polychrome sighed and bowed. “As you will.” As she turned, she whispered in my ear, “Don’t let him scare you. He’s really the kindest of fathers.”

  That’s reassuring. We both waited until the massive throne-room doors had closed behind her. Then I turned back to Iris Mirabilis. “My Lord, I –”

  The immense Lord of Rainbows had drawn himself to his full height — which was a lot larger than anything human-shaped had any business being — and a swirl of crackling blue-white electricity was forming about his hand.

  “Whoa, now, hold on –”

  “Stand fast, mortal! For now the truth shall be known — in life or in your death!”

  And a blazing sphere of living thunderbolts smashed down on me.

  Chapter 7.

  Ugu looked up from the stone he was polishing as the Tempest swirled into the room. “You bring news?”

  The bound storm-spirit bowed low before him, and in a thin shriek reported its observations. As he listened, Ugu felt his face tightening, lips thinning to a straight line. And so it has begun.

  Once the Tempest had concluded, he nodded and waved it away. “Call the others back; I will have new orders for you soon enough.”

  Carefully he placed his tools back in their places; with the strength of a Herkus who had long since assimilated the strength of the mystical zosozo which was the sole province of that hidden group of people, he lifted the three-ton statue he was working on and carried it back to its sheltered niche. Assured that all was neat and clean in his workshop, he left, locking the door with a gesture.

  “Lady Amanita,” he said to apparently empty air, “we have something to discuss.”

  Her light and warm voice replied immediately. “But of course, my King. I will attend you in the throne room immediately.”

  Ugu mounted the steps to the great black throne — with its second green throne, slightly lower. He could not quite restrain an acid smile at that. Some would take that to indicate that he was the true ruler, and he suspected that Amanita intended him to view it that way as well. But he knew that despite his magic being pivotal to their recovery and success, her powers were at least the equal of his own, and she was in some ways far more dangerous.

  As the beautiful green-haired woman, eyes sparkling and seeming warm and inviting, appeared on the throne — where a moment before had been fluttering a harmless-looking green butterfly — one aspect of that danger was reinforced. Ugu may have been a hermit in his first war against Oz, but that hadn’t been because he was unaware of certain attractions; and when the former Mrs. Yoop had chosen her new appearance and name, she had made clear that she had very intimate ways to show her gratitude at finally being freed from her prior humiliating shape. Ugu had even allowed himself, for a short time, to believe that she might actually have fallen in love with him. But he had watched people as a sour-tempered Dove for… hundreds of years? He saw her glances in moments out of the corner of his eye, heard what his own spies reported of her behavior and words. Her enthusiasm was for power and control. Now that she had been forced from her comfortable self-contained retreat, the former desire for isolation had been replaced with a demand for mastery — one as matter-of-factly absolute as her prior assertion of dominance over her home.

  So while he still occasionally enjoyed the pleasure of her company, he had to admit it also held the additional thrill of danger — because he was unsure, every time, whether she had some additional plans for his vulnerability. Which was why, in moments he could be assured of privacy, he made his own preparations. She had gathered an array of forces of her own, he knew — and while he had his own advantages, a Yookoohoo with the incredibly honed control that Amanita Verdant (née Yoop) wielded was a hideously dangerous opponent.

  Which was, of course, why the first thing he had done upon acquiring access to his magical tools was to manufacture a charm that prevented any except himself from performing any transformation on him.

  “My Lord.” Amanita bowed her head prettily. “What news is this that has you looking so serious?”

  “It is time you recalled your spies, my Lady Amanita,” he said, gazing down at the map of Oz and the surrounding countries. �
��We need all that they have gathered, and we need it now.”

  Her green eyebrows quirked upwards. “Oh my. That sounds so…grim, Ugu dear. What has happened?”

  “The Lord of Rainbows sent out his daughter but a day or so past.”

  “And? The dear girl travels far and wide, and has avoided our little realm.” She knew, obviously, that only one of Iris Mirabilis’ daughters would be referred to simply as “his daughter.”

  “And she traveled to the mortal world, directly to the mortal world, and left the Rainbow there.”

  All playfulness vanished and she shot to her feet, eyes narrow and cold. “Oh, she did, did she? And has she returned?”

  “She has, my Queen. And bringing with her another — a mortal, I would presume.” Ugu was pleased he had managed to surprise her. Often he would call her in with news, only to find that one of her own myriad of spies (in equally many forms) had already given it to her. “Given the reports that Polychrome had indeed rescued that accursed Pink Bear, and the rumors your spies had garnered of a Prophecy, I think we now need the full story. Immediately.”

  She nodded sharply. “It will be a loss; it took much to insert a spy undetected into the palace, which is why I have never contacted him before. But by now he must have at least some of the Prophecy, and with luck all of it. I will recall him and the others.” She gave vent to a curse of such ancient power that one of the green plants she had set in the window nearby spontaneously blackened. “The fools! Did they think we would not know? They think to move against us, now, after we have had all this time to prepare — your marvelous armies, my own Faerie Bindings for power, and all Oz now resigned to our control? Better they had tried earlier — the result would have been the same, but at least they would have made a credible try of it.”

  Ugu shook his head. “Do not make the mistake of believing that the Lord of Seven Hues is a fool, Amanita. Even I may be a fool in my own way, but not all others are so stupid as you would make them. If he has chosen to wait, and to act only now, then I assure you he has waited for excellent reasons and has a plan.”