Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

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Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters Page 63

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.


  "No, not exactly. I could sense that they weren't there. I was trying to make my way to all the portals where the ifrits weren't…"

  "How did you know where you were?" asked Wendra. "How could you tell which places were Tables and which weren't?"

  "I didn't at first," Alucius admitted. "That was how I got into trouble the first time. This time, I recalled where I'd been, but then I found the map." He leaned forward, avoiding his daughter, and kissed Wendra, warmly, perhaps too warmly.

  She broke off the kiss. "A map? What kind of map?"

  Alucius looked at his wife sheepishly, then slowly stood and walked to the pegs on the wall where his jacket and tunic and trousers hung. After fumbling through them, he withdrew the map. "I've had other things on my mind…"

  "I've noticed," she said dryly.

  "So have you."

  Wendra flushed.

  They both laughed.

  Alucius extended the map to Wendra. "The green octagons show where the ifrits had Tables in the time of the Duarchy. At least, that's what they seem to be."

  As she studied the map, Alucius looked at her, thankful that she was well and safe. He couldn't help worrying about his absence from the Northern Guard, but dealing with the ifrits was of far greater concern—if he and Wendra could find a way. Or if the soarers could teach them.

  Chapter 140

  Salaan, Lanachrona

  « ^ »

  Despite the heavy, fleece-lined, black jacket he wore, Tarolt shivered as he descended from the Table. He moved quickly from the Table chamber up the steps until he stood before the stove in the conference room.

  Without speaking, the Recorder followed him, waiting. Finally, Trezun cleared his throat. "What did you find out?"

  "What we suspected. There was an accident, and the seals were broached. You will clean up the mess in Blackstear and seal the room. That should not take you long, and we might need the Table. The chamber is too cold for regular use as it is now. How they can survive in such chill… but then, they are what they are."

  "Yes, Tarolt. What of the herder-colonel?"

  "He translated to Blackstear and then elsewhere. There were traces there, but he found another Table or portal."

  "He must be able to use the portals, then. There is no record of his using any of the other Tables."

  "That assumes all the Tables are functioning properly." Tarolt's voice was clipped, cold. "Is that in fact so?"

  "The only older Tables are the ones in Soupat and Blackstear. You have inspected the Table in Blackstear. The one here and the ones in Prosp and Norda are new."

  "Just five Tables. We need to step up the search for the scepters." Tarolt frowned. "We had best message Lasylt the latest about the herder-colonel. Why can they not understand that we need more support?"

  Trezun remained silent for a time, before adding, "Waleryn has been working on the locators." He did not look directly at the fieldmaster.

  "You don't sound like you have news I wish to hear."

  "They are not quite what we thought."

  "Little is," replied Tarolt. "Do they work?"

  "They do, but not exactly as Waleryn had expected."

  "Explain."

  "They were designed to discover the scepters and their assemblies—together. Waleryn has not been able to refine the locations yet. It requires some triangulation. He can only pick up one signal. He thinks the other scepter may have been destroyed."

  "They cannot be destroyed. Not here on Corus. One has been removed from its container. It could be anywhere. A map of where the old Tables were would help. We only have an incomplete list."

  "But there is some good news," Trezun added.

  Tarolt waited.

  "With the locators and one of the scepters, the other can be located."

  "That is good only if we can find the one. We must hope that the herder-colonel does not discover their importance. Or the ancient ones have not told him." Tarolt's face turned even more severe. "I detest having to rely upon hope… or upon the weaknesses or failures of others."

  Chapter 141

  « ^ »

  The soarer appeared but briefly to Wendra and Alucius in the next two days, saving that her energies were limited and that she would wait until Alucius was able to travel the ley lines before she imparted more instruction. Before either Wendra or Alucius could comment or protest, she was gone, leaving them limited supplies—and the run of the tower. Alucius had tried to soar, the way he had once been able to in the tower, but with the portals closed once more, the lifeforce energies were too weak. That had left them effectively confined to one level of the amber tower.

  If he had not been so worried about both the ifrits and his absence from the Northern Guard, Alucius could have enjoyed the time with Wendra and his daughter even more. As it was, he still enjoyed it, although he wished the circumstances had been different.

  "We can only take the time we have," Wendra reminded him—more than once.

  He thought it was Novdi when the soarer abruptly appeared once more. She walked from the mirror square into the trapezoidal room where the three spent most of their time. Nor did the soarer hover, but stood on the amber floor before Alucius and Wendra. They sat on the ends of the bed, and Wendra cradled Alendra in her arms. Even though Alucius was seated, his head was almost level with that of the standing soarer. The soarer's wings carried but the faintest hint of green and gold iridescence.

  The last skill I can provide is the one that will decide whether you can survive while you do what is necessary to stop the ifrits. The soarer paused.

  Alucius got the sense that she was panting, but he could not see that she was breathing hard.

  You must learn how to anchor yourself. You must link your lifethreads with the threads of all that is around you. The ifrits cannot do that. Watch…

  Alucius focused on the soarer, who, young-looking as she appeared, also seemed worn and tired. Still, he could sense the thin threads that extended from her lifethread and hooked to the amber of the walls, even to the silvery metal.

  As quickly as the threads had seemed to meld, they disengaged, and the soarer stood unlinked.

  You must try. When you are so linked, no force brought by an ifrit can touch you or harm you.

  Alucius stood, trying to spin off thin threads.

  No! The threads are part of you. They must stay part of you. You cast them loose, and you lose part of what you are.

  Alucius swallowed. He had sensed both the command and the true fear from the soarer, a fear so real it had frozen him for a moment. Was what they were trying that dangerous?

  It is most dangerous. You can link to power and obtain it, but that is even more dangerous. A hint of humor appeared, coloring the words that followed. Anything that confers power bears danger. She looked at Wendra. You also must master this. Your mate cannot protect you, nor you him.

  Alucius tried once more, visualizing the finest threads of his being, almost like hair extending forth, but remaining anchored to him.

  Better, but they must be stronger, and there must be more of them.

  Alucius watched as Wendra attempted to replicate what the soarer had demonstrated.

  Hold the threads to you…

  At least a glass had passed before the soarer held up a tiny hand. Enough. If you practice well, you will be strong enough to protect yourself.

  "How will this protect us?" asked Wendra.

  When you so link to the world, you cannot be taken by the power of their Tables or their lifeforce. Isolation from the world makes one vulnerable. Linking more tightly to the world creates strength. You will need that ability to save our… your world from being drained and destroyed…

  "Will they use the Tables to drain the world and its lifeforce? Or can they tap the world directly?" asked Alucius.

  They must use the Tables to begin with. Once the master ifrits are established here, they will be able to tap the world directly—as they had begun to do before the Cataclysm. They will come
as once they did, flooding through the tubes and Tables.

  "Did they just add the Tables to the web that already was?" asked Wendra.

  It was not… it is not a web… those lines are part of the lifethreads of the world itself. Were we strong enough, we could travel the threads, as once we did, as you can.

  "Without a Table or a portal?"

  Yes. The Tables are necessary for the ifrits. That is their strength and their weakness.

  Alucius didn't see a weakness. "What weakness?"

  They must use a Table, or a location that once held a Table or is otherwise powered, as by one of the scepters. They can also transport those who cannot use the Table themselves. That is a great strength. If you will but learn, you can travel anywhere on the major lifewebs, but you cannot carry another… The other weakness is that excessive use of the Tables will drain a world far sooner…

  Alucius nodded. "Not too many people should use them?"

  Use by a handful will not harm the world, but use by thousands or the transport of large weights of metals will wear down a world before its time, and it will die, and then so will everything upon it. Even the existence of many Tables over centuries will wear down a world… Enough… you must do what is necessary… If you wish your children to survive and prosper, you must travel the dark tubes to the world of the ifrits. Only there can you stop them.

  "Why didn't you?" asked Alucius.

  We could not. We cannot travel the dark tubes. Even entering one will kill a soarer. Nor did we know about the scepters then.

  Scepters? The soarer had never mentioned them before, and now she spoke as though they were of great import. He had so many questions. "Why can we…" Alucius stopped. "Because they helped form us?" The very thought that he and Wendra were somehow related to the ifrits was distasteful, and he'd shied away from it in the years since he had first learned that.

  Wendra's eyes widened, but she did not speak.

  You are of this world, of another world, and of the world of the ifrits, and you are of yourself. We are but of ourselves and this world, and that has not proved enough strength…

  "But you brought me here. You've done so many things," protested Wendra.

  I did not bring you. Those with strength did. Our fate was sealed from the first, for we can have either skill or strength. We cannot have both. Skill is not strength. Soarers are most skilled, but you are far greater in strength. Skill can be taught, once the intelligence is there. We have either intelligence or strength. We have never had both. You do. You must use your strength to find one of the scepters and take it to where it can destroy the access of the ifrits to Corns forever.

  Scepters again? The soarer's thoughts seemed almost fragmented.

  Alucius had never heard any mention of a scepter. Or had he? Wasn't there a mention of a scepter of the day in one of the old rhymes? And there had been the statue in Dulka—it had to have been Dulka—that had borne a scepter tipped with blue flame. "What are the scepters? Where are they?"

  They were a symbol of the Duarchy, and they had a function.

  "What function?" pressed Alucius.

  They made the Tables possible. They created stresses, fractures, in the lines of lifeforce that hold the world together. If they are not either reunited with their source, or one of them destroyed, in time . . . There was the sense of a shrug.

  "Then what?" asked Wendra, a trace of irritation in her voice.

  The lifeforce webs will shrivel and die, and so will all your descendants. How long this will take, we do not know. Many hundreds of years, but it will happen.

  "How did the scepters create the Tables?"

  Each contains lifeforce from all the worlds held and drained by the ifrits. Each world contributed a small fraction of its lifeforce. The tension between the two scepters allowed a disruption in the balance of forces on a world. That imbalance makes possible the creation of the translation tubes between worlds, and between Tables and portals.

  "And we need to destroy the scepters?" asked Alucius. "Or one of them?"

  Need is what one makes of it. There was an impression of a headshake, although the soarer's head did not move. It gets more difficult to retain lucidity. You need only to destroy one scepter…

  "How do we destroy something like that?" asked Wendra. "Where do we find it?"

  Find it… you must… you can… it is twisted silver and black, locked in pink and purple, and it cannot be far from a ley line, a world lifethread, and it has its own… feeling… Its appearance… we cannot say. It could look like anything. We have never seen it, only felt what it did… The soarer slumped, as if she could hardly hold herself erect on the amberstone. Destruction… that is simply said, and most difficult. You… must reunite it with the master scepter on the world from which it was brought… find the master scepter on the world of the ifrits and reunite them. You must not wait… for in instants… will come a great convulsion… and you will be trapped there, and die with that world…

  Alucius looked at Wendra.

  You must practice what I have taught you. And then you must rest before you go. You must be refreshed before searching for the scepters and before you travel the dark tubes.

  "We must act quickly?" pressed Wendra.

  If you would save yourselves and this world we would leave to you. I must go… little time for me remains… for any of us… Do what you will… I… we can offer no more… No more… The soarer walked out into the adjoining room to the square mirror and was gone.

  "She didn't say anything more," Alucius said. "She didn't even soar."

  "She's dying. They all are," Wendra said. "It's so sad."

  "Dying?"

  "Can't you feel it? There's so little lifeforce behind her."

  Alucius hadn't thought to look. "They always seemed so powerful. So invincible."

  "Did she look invincible?"

  He shook his head. Inadvertently, he yawned. "I'm tired. I didn't do that much…"

  "Using Talent is work, and you're still tired from what you've been through."

  "We should practice a little more."

  "Just a little," Wendra replied.

  Alucius stifled another yawn and squared his shoulders.

  Chapter 142

  Salaan, Lanachrona

  « ^ »

  A reddish purple mist erupted from the center of the Table. As the mist vanished, the figure of a tall, muscular ifrit was revealed. His eyes were deep purple, his alabaster face almost translucently white, his shimmering hair black. He did not smile as he stepped off the Table and looked first at Trezun, then at Tarolt.

  Trezun bowed immediately.

  "Fieldmaster Lasylt? I had not expected…" Tarolt inclined his head respectfully, but not deeply.

  "Whom else did you expect with so much at stake?" The deep voice reverberated through the Table chamber. "Whom else…?" His eyes caught a glimpse of his visage reflected in the now-silvered Table top. "The dark hair… the paleness… it…"

  "It takes some getting used to," Tarolt said. "We stand ready to do your bidding."

  "Where are the scepters? Do you have them under guard?"

  "We have located but one, and there is no functioning Table at that locale."

  "Is there a portal?" demanded Lasylt.

  "Ah… yes. There was once a Table."

  "And you have not attempted to recover it?"

  "With but two of us remaining…" Tarolt pointed out.

  "I see your problem, especially given a strong Talent-steer being loose. Once I have rested, I will procure it, and with it we will locate the other."

  "Are the scepters that… critical?" asked Trezun.

  "You sent word that this Talent-steer had killed a fully translated Efran. Is that not true?"

  "Yes, Lasylt. But he used local lifeforce attached to local projectile weapons."

  The newly arrived Efran's violet eyes blazed. "You do not understand, I see."

  "But… a projectile weapon?"

  "No… any Talent-stee
r who can bind lifeforce into inanimate metals and minerals—that is the danger, because that ability can direct the use of the scepters. Or have you found this Talent-steer?"

  "No. He made a translation to Blackstear, but he is no longer there."

  There was a long silence. The senior fieldmaster seemed to shudder, then took a deep breath.

  "Can we assist you?" asked Tarolt.

  "Assist me? Ah, yes." An ironic laugh filled the room. "You will. If only Talent were linked to intelligence. If only… but we cannot change what is and what is not." Lasylt turned to Trezun. "Are there any other Tables that can be constructed or rebuilt rapidly?"

  "Waleryn—the shadow-engineer in Lustrea—has been working in Norda to re-create the Table there. He has it operating for communications and believes that he can have it fully operational within a few days. Because of its location, once it is operational, it will boost the grid strength by another fifth."

  "That is the first encouraging information I've had from you." A hint of a smile crossed the taller ifrit's face. "With another Table after that, we will have enough to translate third-level Talents." Lasylt nodded, "We could have three hundred Efrans here within a year, then, and we will be able to warm the atmosphere more. In our absence, the planet has reverted toward chill, and we must have greater warmth to boost the lifeforce mass. Even so…" The faintest frown crossed the broad forehead. "We cannot undo all of what has already been done."

  "What has been done?"

  "I will explain… after I rest." Lasylt walked toward the doorway leading to the steps.

  Trezun and Tarolt followed.

  Chapter 143

  « ^ »

  When Alucius and Wendra woke, aroused by the plaintive wails of a hungry Alendra, indirect light filled the tower room, creating an amber glow that suffused everything. Alucius put his arms around Wendra, holding her close for a moment. After a time, he sat up and took Alendra, to allow Wendra to move into a more comfortable position to nurse their daughter.

 

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