Voidfarer

by Sean McMullen

  Andry, Costiger, and Essen entered the taproom as I sat contemplating my options, and suddenly my mind was made up. "Wallas, I owe you a whole pail full of dried fish," I conceded. "So, you believe me?" "I think I shall investigate."

  "Pelmore is in the loft room in the northwestern corner."

  "What? Truly?" I exclaimed, fighting a temptation to wring his neck for not telling me immediately.

  "Being a cat, I was able to climb down from the roof and look through the window. Oh, and one more thing. There appears to be a Lupanian device in the room with him."

  A Lupanian device. Suddenly involvement with Azorian became a possibility. Anger suffused my body, as if I had swallowed some sharp, hot drink. Just what was it about Pel-more? Was anyone safe from his allure, or whatever it was that people saw in him? I was, clearly enough, but how did he enchant Azorian, Lavenci, Riellen, the inquisitor general... and perhaps Wallas? Was Wallas working for him as well? I was dangerously far down the road to paranoia, and desperately in need of answers. My three Wayfarer friends came over with tankards. I allowed them to have a quiet drink first.

  "How was training?" I asked Andry.

  "Need two weeks to be sure they'd not run," he conceded.

  "Same with mine," Essen.

  "Gentlemen, how would you feel about joining me in a raid?" I asked. XXX

  The Wall Tower Building had massive, iron-bound doors of oak, and its windows were wide enough to aim a bow through, but not much more. Even Wallas would have found them a squeeze. Banging on the door and calling out "Militia inspection!" roused someone on the other side, and presently there was the rattle of a bar being raised. The scrawny little keeper looked rather like a handful of twigs stuffed into a sheepgut condom. I pushed past him and looked around.

  "Wayfarer Constables, this is a raid!" I said quietly, a finger to my lips.

  "But you said—" began the keeper.

  "I lied. Go to your room, lock the door, and stay there." The center of the tower was open all the way to the roof, but there were three floors of rooms built around the sides and lined with balconies. Block-and-tackle landings on each balcony allowed goods to be raised and lowered, and those goods seemed to be of the low-volume and moderate-expense variety, such as fine cloths, spices, and imported pottery. We climbed the stairs slowly and quietly, our weapons at the ready. On the third floor I cocked the small cavalry crossbow that I had borrowed from Andry.

  "The room is the one at the northwest corner," I said as we crept along the wooden balcony. "Costi, you shoulder the door open, hit the floor, and roll aside. I'll come next, Andry will be my backup. Essen, stay at the door, make sure that nobody comes in behind us."

  For the last few yards no words were spoken, but then we Wayfarers are trained to work as teams, in silence. I pointed to Costiger, then the door, and finally patted my shoulder. Costiger's considerable weight smashed into the door, bursting it open. As he dropped to the floor I was right behind him.

  "Wayfarer Constables!" I shouted. "Throw down your weapons and raise your hands!"

  I had a fleeting impression of three people, some bedding and boxes, and a large, glittering thing that seemed more like a piece of jewelry the size of a ponycart than a Lupanian machine. The sight of it gave me a moment of panic, and I fired my cavalry crossbow at a part of the mechanism that looked important. A moment later I saw, well, myself raise something about the size of a small tinderbox. There was a sound like a wet cork being drawn across glass, and the universe was suddenly all brilliant white light. XXX

  There was no pain in my head as I came to my senses, but the room was spinning and blurry as I opened my eyes. When I managed to focus on what was before me, I saw that Andry, Costiger, and Essen were lying on the floor. Pelmore was sitting in a corner, bound and gagged, and a woman dressed as a militiaman was carefully removing my crossbow bolt from the mechanism of crystal and precious metals. Sitting on a box and pointing the tiny but quite devastating weapon in my general direction ... was me.

  "Ah, good, I remember waking up about now," I said to me. "Do behave yourself, Danolarian. I know you do, of course, because I remember it, but one never knows with this time business."

  "Causality," muttered the woman repairing the strange machine.

  "Who are you, and why are you rescuing Pelmore?" I asked.

  " 'Rescuing' is such a strong word," said my image. "Moving to more appropriate confinement," said the woman.

  "Just as soon as we're in Bucadria I am going to remove his head," the image of myself said emphatically.

  "Well I think we should perform a small but humane operation and sell him in the Wharfside slave market," said the woman. "We don't have the death penalty where I come from."

  "I'm betting castration is not in the register of penalties either," said my other self.

  "True, but abduction is also against the law, and we did just that a few days ago. Death is so final, and anyway, is it not more cruel to have Pelmore condemned to watch others doing it for the rest of his life, while all he can do is stand guard, and serve tea and cakes?"

  "Er, who are you?" I tried again.

  "This is Lariella, I believe you already know Pelmore, and of course, I am you."

  "My friends," I said, uninterested in word games. "Are they dead?"

  "They each got a direct hit from this stuncast, and will be asleep for another quarter hour. You have been revived deliberately."

  "Will someone tell me what is going on?" I demanded.

  "Your crossbow bolt nicked the mercury regulator for the temporal-displacement amplifier!" Lariella suddenly exclaimed.

  "Er, what does that mean?" I asked.

  "I thought you said that the bolt did no real damage," Lar-iella said, ignoring me.

  "I remember the machine working after the shot," retorted my other self.

  "Well at least two pounds of mercury have leaked out and run down between the floorboards. I suppose I can seal the tube with beeswax and bleed some mercury off from the quantum bypass reserve."

  Whatever needed to be done did not take long. My other self kept the weapon trained on me as she worked.

  "Lariella is descended from Riellen," he said as she worked. "Twenty-eight generations, is it not, Lari?"

  "That's right, we have kept the family tradition of doing this alive for over a thousand years."

  "I would still like to know what is going on," I insisted.

  "I don't tell you, but you catch on," said my other self.

  "Time to go," said Lariella, standing up and turning to face us with her hands on her hips.

  "Go?" I asked. "Where?"

  "Actually, it's when," said the other me.

  I suddenly realized that Lariella was the fittest, strongest-looking, and healthiest woman that I had ever seen, and she was pretty close to the tallest as well. She hunkered down again and fished something about the size and shape of a pack of cards out of a box.

  "My recording of Lavenci first singing 'The Banks of the Alber,'" she said with something approaching triumph as she clipped it to her belt. "It's just so romantic, I just can't wait to play it for my friend Darriencel. She's descended from you and Lavenci."

  Now I was at a really serious loss for words. My other self handed the weapon to her then walked over to the rather worried-looking Pelmore and untied his feet.

  "On your feet, Pelmore, we are about to terminate your existence," declared my other self.

  The words were not chosen wisely, for in spite of having his hands tied behind his back, Pelmore struggled and kicked as he was forced across the room. He even managed a couple of kicks at the glittering machine, which he probably assumed was some type of torture device. His struggles ceased when Lariella picked Costiger's ax from the floor and belted their prisoner over the head with the handle.

  "Now look what you've done!" said the other myself. "He's out of it, I'll have to carry him."

  "Where?" I asked again.

  "We're going to sell him in the Wharfside s
lave market." "White eunuchs were worth a lot in Wharfside," added Lariellen.

  She began to strip off her clothing, revealing some type of purple, skintight garment that covered her from neck to wrists and to ankles. Her midriff had a set of abdominal muscles that put mine to shame, yet her figure was still very pleasing. Pel-more was soon tied over a bar behind the tandem saddle arrangement within the machine.

  "At last, after a thousand years, Riellen's mistake will be put right," said the woman. "When my daughter is born next month, she will not have the burden of a thousand-year-old obligation to follow."

  "You're eight months pregnant?" I exclaimed in disbelief.

  "No, my husband is. Now then, just one more mistake to correct." With that my other self and Lariellen lifted Andry from the floor and began to tie him behind Pelmore.

  "Leave him, he's done nothing," I pleaded. My other self shook his head.

  "Remember Wallas's gossip? I am afraid Andry lay one night with Learned Terikel, who is now a young glass dragon. She is no longer entirely human, and she is atoning for her infidelities to Roval by killing all her other surviving bedmates. Gilvray and that musician were two of them, the rest died from unrelated causes. Andry is the only other one, so he is in danger of having his heart ripped out. We shall take him into the past, and in a few moments he will be centuries dead. I have arranged money and protection for his wife and family. They have to stay here."

  "Causality," said Lariellen again. "It's too hard to explain."

  "Terikel... will never believe," I said, trying to get up.

  "She will when I tell her," said yet another voice, from somewhere behind me.

  "Thank you for taking Andry to safety. My loyalty lives, even though love has died."

  My other self and Lariellen climbed into the time engine and seated themselves.

  "Ready, Danol?" asked the woman from the very distant future.

  "When you will, ladyship. Goodbye, Lady Velander, goodbye, young self. Oh, and Danolarian, take my—and your— advice, and try to be a bit romantic with Lavenci tonight. Tomorrow you will both be too tired, because—" His voice was cut off before I could hear any more. Parts of the thing began to spin, the entire structure blurred, along with its passengers, and then it became so indistinct that I could see right through it to the wall behind. It faded to almost nothing, then vanished with a soft whoosh like the slamming of a door. I heard footsteps behind me as someone walked away. Lady Velander, I had said. I knew her to be another young glass dragon.

  I managed to force my limbs to work, and crawled over to where the machine had stood. A small puddle of mercury was draining between the floorboards. Pelmore's kicks must have damaged Lariellen's repairs, yet the thing had worked so I thought no more of it as I watched the last evidence of its existence drain away.

  The others were still unconscious as I searched the room. I found nothing out of the ordinary, except for a strange book that had been printed with quite incredible refinement. There were pictures of people doing heroic things against Lupanian tripod towers, and the writing was somehow familiar yet not so. I put it in a bag just as a meow sounded outside.

  "Come in, Wallas, it's safe," I called. "What happened?" he asked, surveying the unconscious Wayfarers.

  "Some weapon that stuns. You were right, Pelmore was here, but his captors have fled with him. They took Andry as well."

  "Where? The window is too narrow, and nobody came out through the door." "I watched as they became invisible." "Really?"

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  "EVENING'S ALL FOR COURTING"

  Once Essen and Costiger were awake and on then-feet again, we returned to the Lamplighter. For a time we discussed what we had seen in the Wall Tower Building, but could reach no new conclusions. "Bucadria," said Essen. "You heard one of them say Bu-cadria?"

  "That was the place," I responded.

  "Alberin was called Bucadria about two thousand years ago. It was a colony of the Vindician Empire, and a big market for slaves and gold."

  "Two thousand years ago," I said, shaking my head. "Perhaps I heard the name wrongly."

  Right at that moment we heard the sound of drums outside and the jingle of armor and weapons. An excited buzz of voices sounded throughout the taproom, and people started to hurry out. Moments later, we were all listening to another voice, a small voice but one which had the penetration of a razor-sharp dagger.

  "Brothers, sisters, I'm here to tell you that win or lose tomorrow, we can never be defeated!" cried Riellen in the street outside. "Alberin has elected a leader! Presidian Laron is the first leader in all the history of the world to be elected. Aye, and the great and powerful people do not like it. We elected a leader from among ourselves, and now we follow him! Win or lose on the battlefield tomorrow, we have shown the way."

  At this there was much cheering and clapping, and it took a long time to die away.

  "Tomorrow, citizens of Alberin, I shall be on the walls, fighting alongside you. Presidian Laron will be there too, and if we are killed, it does not matter, because any of you could

  replace us! While any one of us is alive, the spirit of Free Alberin is alive. They cannot kill us all."

  Actually, they can and probably will, I thought as I slipped from the tavern and skirted the crowd in the street outside. Almost of their own accord, my feet began taking me in the direction of Madame Yvendel's establishment.

  >: x >:

  I was admitted to Madame YvendePs academy by one of the students. This time Lavenci and her sister and mother were there together, and were having dinner when I was shown in. Lavenci and Wensomer were dressed in nondescript skirts, and resembled the wives of artisans. They both had their hair bound up in scarves, were somewhat grubby, and looked as if they had not been getting much sleep for several days. Madame Yvendel, on the other hand, was dressed as if she were running some sort of finishing school for courtesans in Diomeda. Very little furniture was left in the room, only some cushions and the table. Lavenci waved off the servant who tried to attend me, and insisted on sharing some of her bowl of savory rice, ground nuts, and cheese with me. I took the bowl from her, and as I ate with a porcelain spoon she explained that she had found a way to activate some of the spells and castings in the captured tripod. It enabled her to listen in on conversations between the Lupanians.

  "I do not understand," I admitted. "They communicate by hooting and ululating. Do you mean you can now understand their cries?"

  "No, it is something more subtle. Some sort of cry that we cannot hear, but which can be made audible by some device or spell in the tower's cowl."

  "So you can understand what they are saying?"

  "No, but I can hear them talking."

  "Which is of no use whatsoever," Wensomer pointed out. I ate in silence for awhile. Madame Yvendel announced that she had by now packed most of the academy down into the sewers and cellars beneath street level. Wensomer and Lavenci both complained that their bedchambers had been packed and moved while they had been away with the captured tripod.

  "We shall all be sleeping on cushions on the floor tonight," said Lavenci as I handed her bowl back. "Am I welcome to stay?" I asked.

  "Oh Danolarian, you are very, very welcome, but compared to the palace this is such rough living."

  "As long as I can lie in your arms, even this place is a palace," I replied, feeling sure that I could have been more poetic if I had tried, but not feeling up to trying.

  Lavenci gave a little sniff. "Side by side, not in my arms until seven years after Pelmore dies of old age," she said ruefully. "Until then I can but offer you my hair to touch, but nothing else. Sometimes, sometimes ... it would be almost worth being doubled over with pain, just to feel the touch of your fingertips."

  "Ah, Lavenci, you will never make an inspector in the Wayfarers," I sighed, pouring out a little wine for myself.

  "Oh, and why not?"

  "You fail to notice little details sometimes." "Like what?"

  "Like being br
ushed by my fingertips when you handed me the bowl."

  "What?" she laughed, as if I had told a joke that she did not quite understand. "I was careful not to touch you."

  "Not careful enough," I replied, bending the truth a little for the sake of dramatic effect.

  "But I would have been convulsed with pain by the constancy glamour if..." Suddenly Lavenci caught the meaning of what I was saying, and the reason that I was smiling. "Danolarian, you did it!" she shrieked. In a shower of crockery, wine, food, and cushions Lavenci was upon me, wrapping her arms about me and smothering my face with kisses.

  "What did I say?" said Madame Yvendel. "Of course Rax EinseVs pupil would find an engineering solution for a magical problem."

  "Of course only my brother could have raised the glamour," said Wensomer. "Is any wine unspilled?"

  Lavenci raised her face from mine, and I hastily took a number of deep breaths.

  "You packed the entire bloody academy away!" she shouted at her mother. "All the bedding, perfumes, soaps, clothes, all the special things for my first night with Danolarian!"

  "If you can give me about six hours I am sure I can find—"

  "No! By then it will be dawn, and, and, and... Damnation! After all this waiting I am not having my beloved left with memories of embracing me scruffy, smelly, and on a floor! Wait a moment... Madame Karracel's is still open for business."

  "The bawdyhouse?" I asked.