Ratagan looked back and questioningly signaled for a landing. Alexander shook his head. The pain hadn’t subsided, but he’d managed to focus his will against it, recalling lessons learned during the trial of pain. It took a minute or so to master the agony he was feeling. It didn’t subside or even lessen, but he was able to clear his mind and endure, trusting that it would pass in time.
When Southport came into view, he realized that something had changed. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, probably because he’d been so preoccupied with the pain behind his eyes, but he could see the horizon—something he’d lost when his eyes had been damaged by the cold of the aether. It was as if his all around sight had suddenly expanded to encompass the scope of normal vision.
The pain abruptly faded into the background. It wasn’t gone, just not nearly as interesting as the experiences he’d just had. He’d used his clairvoyance without shifting into the firmament, or at least he thought he had—and his all around sight had suddenly expanded. The implications made his mind race. He was lost in thought when Ratagan turned in his saddle and tapped him on the shoulder.
“You all right, Lord Reishi? We’re here.”
Alexander shook his head slightly, looking around and finding himself in Southport’s aerie. They’d landed. He smiled in spite of the halo of residual pain still floating around his head.
“I’m good,” Alexander said, unfastening his straps.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Ratagan said. “It happens to the best of us.”
Alexander just nodded, sliding off the wyvern and patting the beast on the side.
Kevin was waiting nearby. “Lord—”
“The name’s Alexander, Kevin.”
His brother-in-law nodded, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I guess I’ve been here for so long that titles and such are becoming second nature.”
“It looks like Southport’s better off for your leadership,” Alexander said, opening his Wizard’s Den while surveying the city. The aerie was located on the roof of a large structure, offering a good view of the shipyards and the port. A fleet of fast-attack boats was anchored in the bay, dozens of ships ready to sail at a moment’s notice—more lined the docks and piers jutting from the sea wall.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve actually grown fond of this place, though I’d trade my office for a ride through the Great Forest in a heartbeat.”
Jack smiled broadly, pointing across the city. “I can see the inn where we met.”
“I think you’re right,” Alexander said.
“Any news of Isabel?” Kevin asked.
“Phane still has her, but she’s alive and well.”
“Are you sure?” Kevin asked, concern for his sister showing plainly in his eyes and his colors.
Alexander faced him squarely. “I am. In fact, I just looked in on her. She’s not happy, and she’s locked in a magically protected cell, but she’s unharmed.”
“How did you look in on her?” Anja asked. “Don’t you need your magic circle?”
Alexander ignored her question, giving her a look that forestalled any further inquiry.
“Kevin, this is Anja, and in spite of her appearance, she’s actually a dragon.”
Kevin looked at her, then back at Alexander. Seeing that he was serious, Kevin bowed formally.
“Welcome to Southport, My Lady. It’s a pleasure and a privilege to make your acquaintance.”
Anja blinked, then smiled broadly.
“I like him.”
Jack chuckled. “I would never have expected such honeyed words to roll so easily off a Ranger’s tongue. Perhaps you have been here too long.”
“One thing I’ve learned in my time here is that courtesy never hurts.”
“Well said,” Jack replied with a look of mischief.
“Come, let me show you to your quarters,” Kevin said.
***
After dinner, Jack spent over an hour telling a rather embellished version of Alexander’s journey since he’d named Kevin Regent of Southport. While Jack’s story would have been engrossing if Alexander hadn’t lived it, he was preoccupied with thoughts about his magic. It was changing again—becoming more. As much as he welcomed the promise of greater capability, such developments were usually accompanied by pain and danger.
When Jack finished his story and Kevin began recounting his time in Southport, Alexander did his best to listen attentively. Information was always welcome, and sometimes even useful. Kevin had organized the city with near military precision, rooting out the corruption that had so permeated the place under the previous regent’s stewardship.
The shipyards were now working in three shifts, turning out fast-attack boats at a rapid pace, most of which had been sent south to Kai’Gorn. Kevin and Talia had developed a good working friendship through the letters and reports they sent each other via frequent message riders. He also kept in contact with New Ruatha, though less frequently. The Lancers ravaging the north had never made any serious attempt to penetrate the Great Forest, so southern Ruatha had become a refuge for those fleeing the war, and Southport had grown quickly because of it.
After the meal was cleared and Kevin had left them to retire for the evening, Alexander opened his Wizard’s Den and put his weapons on the table, then stepped back out into the large sitting room at the heart of the royal suite Kevin had provided them.
“I need to try something and it might be dangerous.”
Chloe spun into a ball of light.
“How so?” Jataan asked.
“My magic is changing again. During the flight here I think my all around sight merged with my clairvoyance. For just a moment, I was with Isabel, but I could still feel my body on the back of Ratagan’s wyvern. I need to find out if I can use my clairvoyance without the protection of a magic circle.”
“And you’re afraid that you’ll become possessed,” Jack said.
Alexander nodded, remembering back to that horrible moment when he’d killed two of his own Rangers.
“If I lose control, you need to subdue me.”
“I don’t understand,” Anja said.
“If I attack you, it’s not really me. Take me down and hold me down. If I don’t come to my senses, bind me and put me in a magic circle.”
“Are you sure this is necessary, Lord Reishi?” Jataan asked.
“I need to know what my magic can do.”
Jataan nodded.
Alexander sat down at the table and closed his eyes. He could see the room as plain as ever, perhaps even a bit more clearly. He pushed past the door and into the hall, paying close attention to how it felt, noting the dull pain still present behind his eyes. He sent his point of view up through the ceiling and into the sky over Southport, rising up to a height of a thousand feet, still well within the prior range of his all around sight. From there he looked around. He could see to the horizon. That alone made him smile, a curious sensation, feeling his body react to his visual experience while his sight was far removed from his physical location.
He looked north to the watchtower at the edge of the Great Forest and began to move toward it, slowly at first, cautiously. He reached the previous limit of his all around sight, and then passed it without difficulty. With a thought, he was floating above the broken watchtower, looking down at the site of his first encounter with nether wolves.
While hovering over the plateau, he gently probed his own mind and body, feeling the wood of the table beneath his hands, hearing the crackle of the fire burning in the hearth mixed with the gentle rustle of the wind over the watchtower. It took some effort to separate the sounds of each location.
The pain behind his eyes was starting to build, but it wasn’t even close to unmanageable. He thought of Blackstone Keep and the world rushed by. In a moment, he was floating over the ancient fortress. The pain began to intensify. He scanned the horizon and saw a telltale smudge of color in the distance. Rake and his thugs were getting closer. The pain grew, stabbing sharply into his mind�
�he returned to his body with a thought.
“Alexander?” Jack said.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it just hurts a bit.”
The sharp stabbing sensation behind his eyes began to subside, diminishing quickly into a dull headache.
“Let me have a look at you,” Lita said, sitting next to him and placing her hand on his forehead while muttering the words of a spell.
“You’re pushing too hard too quickly,” she said. “I detect some minor damage. Nothing that won’t heal, but you should refrain from doing whatever you just did for a while.”
Alexander nodded.
“What did you do, anyway?” Anja asked.
“I went to Blackstone. It was odd, more like my all around sight than my clairvoyance because I could still feel my body and hear what was happening here while seeing and hearing everything there at the same time.”
“Impressive,” Jack said. “It would seem that you still have more potential to realize.”
“I think you’re right,” he said, opening his Wizard’s Den and heading for his circle.
“I thought you were going to take it easy,” Anja said.
“I won’t use my new vision, but I want to try reaching out to Siduri again.”
“Last time you got lost in the firmament,” Anja said.
“I found my way back. Besides, I’m going to try something different this time.”
“Should we be concerned?” Jack asked.
“Probably, but I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me.”
He sat down in his circle and offered his best reassuring smile to his friends.
“If I’m not back in an hour, Chloe will come in and get me.”
After only a moment, he was in the firmament. His plan was risky, dangerous even, but he didn’t know how else to proceed. Holding on to anger had allowed him to return from the place of peace, but that path didn’t seem to lead any closer to the first adept. That left two options … and one of those involved dying.
Alexander sent his mind to the fortress island, deliberately attempting to penetrate the wards and allowing himself to be scattered across the firmament. Instinctively, almost reflexively, a small but essential part of his psyche retreated to the place of the witness. Rather than begin the process of reassembling himself, he just watched. Bits and pieces began to drift out of his awareness, pieces of himself seemed to be slipping away. Still he watched.
Isabel came into his mind and then she too began to fade from thought. A surge of panic overcame him and he began to struggle to get himself back, casting his mind across the ocean of creation and grasping desperately for the parts of himself that had been lost. For what seemed like a long time, he struggled to reassemble his identity, pulling pieces back to himself as he found them, but he still didn’t feel complete. Parts were missing. He could tell they were gone by the holes their absence left in his memories and his sense of self.
After stretching out across the whole of creation with his mind, he began to search beneath the surface of the firmament, reasoning that the lost parts of himself had to go somewhere. When he found the first fragment and drew it back to himself, he felt a surge of hope and began to search in earnest, finding more missing pieces sinking toward the formless depths. Bit by bit, he reassembled his mind, feeling more than a little frightened of the consequences of failure. He could only imagine the outcome if he allowed parts of himself to fade away into undifferentiated source.
It was entirely possible that he could lose memories, skills, personality traits, even feelings for those he loved. As much as the depths of the firmament called to him with the promise of peace and tranquility, they had become a threat to his very identity, a danger to his unique existence.
Fully himself again, he floated on the surface of the firmament, considering the outcome of his experiment. Both of his last two attempts had resulted in a panicked retreat. Both had threatened to claim his sense of self. Both had failed to bring him even one step closer to Siduri.
He called out to the first adept, imploring him to respond, begging for his help, but to no avail. Only the song of creation answered. He returned to his body and stretched his legs, sitting on the edge of his circular table with his face in his hands.
“I take it things didn’t go well,” Jack said.
“No, I’ve tried two of the three suggestions the sovereigns had for reaching out to Siduri. Both nearly killed me. Worse still, the third way starts by killing me.”
“What!” Anja said.
Chloe spun into a ball of light.
“I was on the brink of death when I first found Siduri in the firmament. It’s the only time I’ve gone there physically. So I guess I just have to figure out how to die without dying.”
“No!” Anja snapped. “You need to stop this. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Perhaps she’s right, Lord Reishi,” Jataan said. “If Siduri were willing to help, he would offer it.”
“Maybe, but I can’t help feeling that he’s the key to this whole thing.”
“You are the key, Alexander,” Jack said. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but the world rests on your shoulders. Most people don’t understand that, but we do. If you fall, we all lose.”
“No pressure, huh, Jack?”
The bard shrugged helplessly. “Deal in what is.”
Alexander snorted. “I seem to recall hearing that somewhere before.”
Chapter 14
Ratagan launched off the ramparts, his wyvern gaining altitude with each powerful stroke of its wings. Southport slid past until they were floating over green fields. Alexander caught sight of the road leading to Highlands Reach and thought of his childhood home. He had always dreamed of going back there, building a house overlooking a rich, green pasture and raising a family. He realized that he hadn’t thought about that in some time. Now that he did, he understood that it was just a dream, nothing more. The reality of his life had placed very different demands on him, demands that he had an obligation to live up to.
As much as he longed for the peaceful, simple life of his dream, he understood now that his duty, the purpose of his life really, was to ensure that others could live that simple, quiet, and profoundly rewarding life. It struck him as odd that so many people thought of power as something to aspire toward, something noble and worthy, when in reality anyone with a soul would flee from it the moment they realized the truth of it. Power was about bending other people’s free will, making them comply and obey. Good people didn’t think in those terms, which made the avid pursuit of power a vocation for evil people.
Worse still was the certainty that evil people would never stop trying to lord their will over others. And the natural result of that truth was that evil people would always gravitate toward government while most good people would avoid it at nearly all costs.
Government wasn’t a necessary evil, it was necessarily evil. It couldn’t be otherwise given the nature of those who yearned to be a part of it. Balthazar Reishi had understood this fact of human nature and committed himself and his family to protecting those who just wanted to be left alone to live their lives, protecting them from those who craved power over them.
Whether he liked it or not, that was Alexander’s lot in life as well. He’d come to accept that he was the Reishi Sovereign and champion of the Old Law. His wants mattered far less than his duty. He smiled to himself as he took one last look at the road that led to his old life before looking forward.
As much as he wanted to test his new sight, he was wary of overexerting himself. Rake was nearing Blackstone Keep. Odds were good that Alexander would find himself in a battle before the sun set and he wanted to conserve his strength and his magic. That left him with plenty of time to think.
Twice he’d failed to reach out to Siduri. While he might eventually find success along either of those paths, he doubted it, and both presented dangers that were beyond his understanding. It was frustrating that the one person who could help
him gain that essential understanding might only be reachable through the very understanding he had to offer.
That left the one last path, the one that began with his death, the only one that had ever succeeded. Aside from being potentially lethal, he didn’t relish the pain he was certain he would have to endure. Objectively, he knew that pain was manageable, he knew he had the capacity to withstand nearly any degree of agony, but that didn’t make it appealing. That kind of suffering always provoked a little flutter of fear in his belly.
And yet, he knew deep down that he would attempt to re-create the experience that had led to his physical transition into the firmament. How could he not? His friends doubted the value and feared the risk, but they hadn’t been there, they didn’t understand.
Siduri had called Alexander “one with source.” His understanding of just exactly what that meant was becoming clearer, though by no means complete. He needed Siduri to teach him. He needed a mentor who understood. And he needed Siduri to end the shades. He shook his head with frustration. He couldn’t even make contact with the first adept, never mind persuade him to teach Alexander what he needed to know and then willingly sacrifice himself to the Taker. Alexander hardened his resolve—that there was a chance was what mattered.
The Great Forest floated beneath them, green and lush. The steep barrier peaks of Glen Morillian rose in the distance to the west. Far to the east, the Pinnacles were just barely visible poking up through the haze shrouding the horizon. For a time, he let his mind wander, watching the world go by beneath him, but then a thought occurred to him. If his sight had changed, perhaps his illusion magic had changed as well.
He focused his mind and visualized a ball of light, bright and white. Nothing happened. He tried to re-create the state of mind he used while in the firmament to project his magic, but again nothing happened.
His mind wandering again, he returned to Siduri and his experience in the construct created by the first adept. He couldn’t help but wonder just how real it had been. Was it in fact a separate reality? If that was the case, the possibilities were endless. More likely, it was just an elaborate illusion designed to deceive even its heartbroken creator.
Sovereign of the Seven Isles 7: Reishi Adept Page 16