Beyond the Pale
Page 23
Lethe straightened up to his full height, Billy’s physical body under his complete control. Billy had become part of him, their spirits fused somehow by the rushing flood of mana that had pulsed through them and the Dragon Heart.
He stood on the edge of the cliff and stared out across the Chasm. No evidence of a spike or bridge remained on either side now. Lethe had used the Dragon Heart to level out the mana. He knew what its purpose was now.
He knew that it had been created not only to decimate the bridge, but to even out all of the mana spikes. To prevent premature contact.
Trees grew up around him now, the cracked rock desert replaced with a forest full of life and energy. His work here was nearly complete, and soon he would move on to the next spot. The next unnatural spike of mana.
Lethe would use the Dragon Heart to smooth it out, then move on. And on until every point of abnormally high mana had been leveled flat, its energy dispersed throughout the world.
The Dragon Heart was fused to his body now, and it had become a part of his spirit as well. Lethe had remembered things as it merged with him. He recalled the burning fire and the rainbow portal. He recalled anger and frustration at the elf with the painted face.
Suddenly, as the mana inside him, inside his Dragon Heart, merged with his expanding consciousness, everything clicked into place. The fire was an explosion, a bomb that immolated him. The portal was created by a magic ritual, it was a conduit for life energy.
Lethe remembered much more. Flashes of a life before being named by Thayla. Smells and images came back to him. Memories that spanned millennia came rushing back with wonderful, exquisite clarity.
He had not known what would happen when he died. But the sacrifice had been absolutely necessary.
Now, as he began moving along the edge of the cliff, he remembered the one thing that had evaded him. The one thing that defined his existence.
He remembered his previous incarnation.
He recalled his name.
Dunkelzahn.
About the Author
Beyond the Pale, Book Three of Jak Koke’s Dragon Heart Saga, completes the story of Ryan Mercury and the Dragon Heart which began in Stranger Souls and continued in Clockwork Asylum.
Koke has also written two other novels set in FASA - created universes. His first, Dead Air, was a stand-alone book in the Shadowrun® world and was published by Roc books in 1996. His second, Liferock, is his only fantasy novel so far and will soon be published by FASA Corporation as part of its Earthdawn® series.
Both solo and in collaboration with Jonathan Bond, Koke has also sold short stories to Amazing Stories and Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine, and has contributed to several anthologies such as Rat Tales by Pulphouse, Young Blood by Zebra, and Talisman, an Earthdawn® anthology.
Koke invites you to visit his web site at http:IIursula. uoregon.eduI~jkoke. You can also send him comments about this and any of his Shadowrun® books care of FASA Corporation.
He and his wife Seana Davidson, a marine microbiologist, live in California with their five-year-old daughter, Michaela.
MEMO
FROM: JANE-IN-THE-BOX
TO: NADJA DAVIAR
DATE: 20 AUGUST 2057
RE: THE LEGEND OF THAYLA
Dunkelzahn’s Institute of Magical Research just unearthed this document. Thought you’d be interested. Text follows:
Ages ago, before written memory began, lived a queen of great beauty and even greater heart. Thayla reigned over a rich green valley nestled between two mountain ranges that rose like spikes into the heavens. Under her rule, the land she loved prospered, and her people lived their days in joy.
Each morning Thayla greeted the rising sun with a Song. She sang in a voice as clear as the air and as bright as the great burning orb itself. Nothing foul or dark could prosper in her land, for her voice was too pure for such abominations to bear.
One night an army of dark creatures made to enter the valley, seeking to overrun the prosperous land and corrupt it with their vile presence. Thayla rose that morning as she always did, and upon seeing the black army, sang. Her voice filled the valley with power and hope.
The evil horde, shown the depravity of their existence by her voice, had no choice but to flee. And as they did—running and flying with wild abandon for refuge beyond the valley—one black soldier slowed and, for the briefest of moments, listened to Thayla’s Song.
Days passed, and the terrible army remained beyond the valley, fearful of the Song. Finally, driven by their dark masters, they surged forward again. And again Thayla sang.
As before the foul creatures fell back blindly, unable to stand even a few pure notes of her voice. But again the lone, tall warrior with hair and eyes of dark fire lingered and listened, if only for a few moments, before fleeing the valley.
The next time the creatures approached Thayla’s domain, less of the army came. The rest were unable to marshal the will needed to enter the valley. But again, the lone dark soldier fell back last, so that he could hear her Song.
Finally, not one of the black army would come. Not even the terrible threats of their vile masters could push them forward. But still a single warrior in ebony and red armor would slip into the valley before each dawn and listen, and after a time, watch as well.
The black figure advanced to where he could see Thayla standing high upon the terraces of the great sprawling city that surrounded her palace. And he would watch her every morning as she rose and greeted the new day with the Song. And as he listened, blood flowed from his ears and his skin blistered from the powerful purity of her voice, but he would not turn aside. He would not flee from her Song. And so he stood, listened, and watched.
Then one night, the dark warrior slipped into the city as Thayla slept. He crept into her citadel, sat at the foot of her bed and watched her.
When she woke and found him there, she called for her guards, but none were strong enough to move the dark warrior. She called her sorcerers, but none were wise enough to banish him. She sang to drive him away, but though his body and spirit were wracked with pain, he stood strong and firm, enraptured by her beauty.
Unable to drive him away, the great Queen Thayla decided to ignore him. Though he stood at her side, she ate without speaking to him. Though he ran alongside as she took her horses out for exercise, she did not look at him. And though he stood silently nearby as she slept, she did not acknowledge his presence.
Each morning she would rise and greet the sun, singing loud and strong so that the dark army waiting beyond the valley could not enter. And each morning he stood beside her and cried tears of blood and fire at the pain and joy her voice gave him.
And so this went on for some time. Thayla slept, sang, and performed her royal duties. But the black warrior stayed at her side, and slowly the land began to darken from his presence. The animals of the field sickened, as did the people. The crops would not grow, and dark and terrible clouds filled the sky over the valley.
Thayla knew the black soldier was the cause of all these things, and so she asked him to leave. He did not even answer her. She tried to trick him into leaving, but he would not be fooled. Then she tried to force him away, but he could not be broken. Finally, she begged him to leave.
“But I do not wish to leave,” he replied. These were the first words he had ever spoken to her, and his voice was like dried leaves blown on the autumn wind. “Your beauty is like none I have ever seen.”
“But you cannot stay,” she told him. “Your presence is destroying my land and my people.”
“I care not for your land or its people,” the warrior told her. “I care only for you.”
Faced with his determination, Thayla wept. Slowly her people died. Finally, she called her greatest advisors together and told them what they must do.
“As you know, the presence of the dark warrior is destroying our land and our people,” she said. “However, he will not leave my side. We cannot make him leave, and so I must leave the land and
take him with me.”
Her advisors wailed at her words. “But you cannot! It is only your voice that holds the black army at bay! If you leave, we will certainly die!”
Thayla nodded, for she knew this to be true, but said, “I will leave, but my voice will remain.” And with that she charged her most powerful sorcerers with the task of placing her voice in a songbird that would greet the rising sun each morning as she had.
They searched the land and found the finest songbird of all. And as the sun rose, they performed the ritual. When the first light appeared the next morn, the bird sang with Thayla’s Voice, and the Song held the dark army at bay.
The sorcerers rejoiced at this, but when they turned to congratulate Thayla, she and her dark shadow had gone. They searched the land but could find neither of them.
But the Songbird rose each morning. And with a voice as pure as the clear air itself, it sang the Song, and the black army trembled in its tracks, unable to enter the valley.
Copyright
ROC
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First published by Roc, an imprint of Dutton Signet, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc.
First Printing, March, 1998 10 987654321
Copyright © FAS A Corporation, 1998 All rights reserved
Series Editor: Donna ippolito Legend of Thayla: Tom Dowd
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